Hello Friends! I decided to continue this a bit over the next few days, because I kind of love them. So, hope you enjoy this part. I don’t know if I will add it to AO3, but you get it here.
Never in a million years had Jim thought Spock would suddenly appear—when he was trying to trash the tree—like his very own Christmas miracle.
And now he wasn’t sure what to do or how to behave. Because, yeah, Jim knew what to do when he wanted to have sex with someone, okay yes, he wanted to have sex with Spock, too, but in a different way. The same way, sure. Cause sex was sex. Although, he didn’t sex with Spock would just be ordinary or anything. And never mind the rumors of every seven years or whatever. Jim didn’t believe that anyway.
But generally, Jim didn’t really go for serious. Vulcans were known to like serious. Insist on it even. And Jim was young and thought he had plenty of time for that.
Until Spock looked at him with those dark, dark eyes and said, “I could help you decorate” and Jim was lost.
Not that anything was all of a sudden. He’d had a huge crush on Spock well before this. But Jim was serious. He thought Spock was with Uhura. They always seemed to be together but then so was Bones and him and they weren’t together, together.
And God, he was so damn nervous. He was dropping things in the kitchen and just generally all thumbs.
What did he have to feed Spock anyway? He’d intended to serve his mom, after she arrived this afternoon, Chicken Cacciatore. Of course she wasn’t coming today or at all and what could he substitute? Vulcans didn’t eat meat.
“Damn, damn, damn.”
“Nothing!” He picked up his PADD. “Please answer. Come on.”
To his relief, Bones appeared, scowling. “What the hell? I just left yesterday. This better be good.”
“Your mom arrived then?” Bones looked a little surprised.
“Um, no. She’s, uh, not coming.”
“Damn it! I knew it. Jim, you’re getting on the shuttle in the morning and coming here.”
“No arguments. I’ll arrange it. All you have to do is show up.”
“Bones.” He glanced toward the kitchen door and the lowered his voice. “I-I met someone.”
“I, uh, I met a guy and he’s here.”
“I left yesterday.” Bones shook his head. “So what anyway? You’ll be done with him tonight and you can still come tomorrow.”
“No. It’s not like that.”
“What you say? I couldn’t hear you.”
“Spock. I met Spock. He’s here. And I’m making him dinner.”
“Do you know any others?”
“I don’t believe this. I left yesterday,” Bones said again. “Are you sure you know what you’re doing?”
“I definitely don’t. That’s why I called you. I was going to make Mom Chicken Cacciatore. What do I make Spock? They don’t eat meat!”
“I’m a doctor not a Vulcan attaché. Why don’t you ask him what to feed him?”
“Because I wanted to look smart. And don’t you dare say anything.”
“Jim? Do you need assistance?”
Bones’ eyes got wide. “That’s really him, isn’t it?”
“I gotta go,” he said in a strangled voice. He turned with a smile as Spock appeared in the kitchen doorway. “Hi.
“Were you talking to someone?”
“Myself, mostly. I’m, listen, I don’t know what to make and—”
“It is fine, Jim. I am not really hungry. Fix whatever you want. I will have tea. If you have it. And then we will decorate your tree.”
“Oh. Well. Um. I don’t have to eat.”
“I am certain you are hungry. I can hear your stomach.”
Jim felt himself blush. “Yeah. I, well, I didn’t have lunch because I was getting ready for Mom to come.” He looked away, feeling foolish all over again. And to his dismay the tears began to sting his eyes again.
“I will send for a pizza,” Spock said softly.
Jim looked at him. “You-you eat that?”
“I am vegetarian, not vegan. We will get a vegetable pizza.”
Jim smiled, swallowing. “Okay. That sounds great.”
Spock nodded and left him in the kitchen, no doubt so he could collect his emotional self. And so he did. And he looked for tea. Hoping he had it.