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As usual Jim had left his washing to the last minute. It wasn’t exactly difficult to walk up the two blocks to the Laundromat, but it was inconvenient enough that he saved it to the last moment. Oh well, looked like another hour of his life was to be spent in public in his best panties. This was swiftly becoming a habit and the locals were already used to him walking around in almost nothing. Besides, the Laundromat was almost always empty, no one used the place.
Upon arriving, Jim threw all his clothes, including the ones he’d worn while walking, into three machines and he fiddled with the detergent dispensers for a moment before getting everything sorted into the right washers. It would not be good to have any of his nice white clothes turned pink yet again. He jumped onto an empty table and settled in to wait for everything to finish washing. When the door opened a few minutes later Jim expected to see the lady down the block who usually came in around this time of the week but was surprised to see a very stoically disgruntled and mud-covered Vulcan walk in.
-
Spock had gotten slightly lost. Only slightly. He could see the library he was expected to be at in an hour, but somehow the building was on the other side of the river. A river he did not recall ever crossing before. As he made his way cautiously towards the nearest bridge, a car sped past – much too fast for inner city speeds – and splashed an unholy mixture of mud, rain water, and garbage onto Spock. He looked down at his sodden self and quickly ascertained that it would be very unbecoming and quite rude to arrive at the meeting with his father in this state. He took in a calming breath before looking around for someplace to get cleaned off. Spock turned down a side alley and found a Laundromat that was empty save for one young man whom was wearing practically nothing.
He walked in and nodded to the man, who decided to introduce himself.
“I’m Jim. I’m not usually naked,” he said. Spock noted gratefully that Jim had not gone for a handshake.
“I am Spock.” He wasn’t quite sure how to commence removing his clothes in this situation.
Jim hopped off the table he’d been sitting on. “Mud and whatever else you got on you can be a real pain to get off clothes. They’ve got a quick setting that’ll get the worst of it out in fifteen minutes.” He came over and started fiddling with the options on one of the machines. “Alright, it’s good to go. Put your clothes in when you want.”
Jim flashed the Vulcan a bright smile before turning the other way while he disrobed. Jim stared at an out of date advertisement for Starfleet Academy that was starting to peel off of the wall.
Spock dropped his robe into the machine along with some detergent. He moved to stand against the wall, hoping that this unfortunate predicament would not cause him to be late to his meeting. Spock turned to look at the door and raised an eyebrow when a very angry man whose clothes were almost all red from blood stormed into the laundromat.
-
Doctor McCoy was having a terrible day. It started with a faulty alarm clock which almost made him late to work and he had left his spare scrubs at home, which would usually not be a problem – the hospital had spares - but an exploded pipe in the storeroom wall had rendered all of them useless. Then he’d had a patient in Emergency with an unreasonable amount of blood coming out. The Trauma team had started working double time to ensure the man didn’t flatline or bleed out. The man was still in critical, but stable now. And now McCoy was covered in blood and walking down the streets of San Francisco all the while grumbling about how the universe was out to put him into an early grave. He entered the closest Laundromat, not giving a fuck who was in there and started stripping.
“…Ah, why are you covered in blood?” someone asked.
McCoy turned around, wearing only his trousers. The blonde kid looked bemused and mildly worried. He was also wearing nothing but a pair of red panties. McCoy looked around and noticed the Vulcan standing by an active machine wearing some kind of mini toga thing. This had to be some sort of bizarre dream caused by stress.
McCoy glared at the kid. “Because I killed the last nosy idiot who asked me dumb questions about the blood on my clothes.” He said, and turned around to get his pants off.
“You see, that doesn’t follow,” the kid said, causing Leonard to groan in annoyance. “Because if that’s their blood, what blood were they referring to when they asked? Did you already have blood on you? How many have you killed?!” He was laughing now, clearly no longer concerned about McCoy turning around and stabbing him.
“Good god, kid! D’you ever shut up? I’m a doctor. A guy came into Emergency a few hours ago having lost a hand. So, I am spending my damned lunch break in a Laundromat talking to a blonde fool and a practically naked Vulcan rather than eating!” McCoy got his pants off at last, looked down and realised he had gotten blood on his socks too. How the hell could today get any worse.
The kid slid off the table, looking between Spock and the Doctor. “D’you want me to go grab us some food?” he offered.
McCoy looked at him, midway through struggling with his sock. “Wearing what? You’ve got nothing on, idiot.”
“Nah, I live around here, everyone’s used to me by now. The guy running the fish and chip shop gives me a discount if I’m wearing my red panties.” He smiled. “Though, I have no cash. Only brought enough for my washing.” He gestured towards the three machines whizzing in tandem. McCoy rolled his eyes.
The Vulcan spoke up for the first time since McCoy had entered. “I would not be averse to food. If I give you the money, would you buy something for me? I am vegetarian.” He said, kneeling down to get some money from the wallet he’d left on the ground by his feet.
“Yeah, no problem at all, Spock. They’ve got veggie burgers.” He turned towards McCoy. “And you, Doctor Bones?” he asked with a grin.
“Yeah, I’ll grab something” he said, throwing a note to the blonde. “Why are you calling me that?” He asked.
“You’re thin. Skin and bones. And you’re a surgeon too! Perfect nickname.” He said, walking confidently out in his panties. “I’m Jim, by the way.”
“Leonard McCoy,” McCoy said, turning to study the options on the washing machine.
“Sure thing, Bones,” Jim said as the door shut behind him.
McCoy rolled his eyes. There was no obvious option for blood stain removal. What kind of a Laundromat was this?
“Do you require assistance, Doctor?” the Vulcan asked.
“No, I should be ok. Speck, was it?” Leonard grumbled a bit, thinking yet again on how today was just so fucking perfect.
“Spock,” he said, walking closer to see what option of detergent McCoy was picking. “That will not remove blood. If anything, it will ensure that the blood remains.” He pointed out a different option. “This one will remove the stains.”
McCoy turned to him, glaring. “I’m not gonna pick that one! It’ll tear my scrubs to shreds. I’m on duty again in 40 minutes.”
“Would you rather have permanently blood stained garments?” Spock asked.
McCoy raised his eyebrows. “Yeah, I’d rather have bloodied ones to none at all!” He said.
“That is illogical. The machine will not ruin your clothes.” Spock said.
McCoy reeled away from him. “Oh, hear the buzzer go off, a damn Vulcan called me illogical. What a shock!” He floundered around the room for a moment in a mix of amusement and exasperation.
Spock’s eyes followed him. “You have met Vulcans before?”
“I’m working in experimental xenotransplantation at the moment, and your people like sticking their fingers in it and getting in my way.” McCoy crossed his arms and huffed a bit.
Spock looked mildly repulsed. “Vulcans do not ‘stick their fingers’ into transplant operations. It is illogical and unsanitary.”
McCoy let out a bark of a laugh. “I love aliens,” he muttered, then spoke louder for Spock to hear. “Not literally, you fool.”
He moved back towards the washing machine to insert some coins and get it started. Spock put his hand out, resting it on top of McCoy’s, to stop him.
McCoy looked at him, expression unreadable except for a slightly raised eyebrow. “Pretty intimate there, Spock.”
Spock snatched his hand away and frowned. He was accustomed to dealing with humans who were unaware of Vulcan culture. McCoy was heartily amused by the slight green blush appearing on the Vulcan cheeks.
“The detergent you have selected will not work,.” Spock said, moving his hands behind his back.
McCoy rolled his eyes. “It’ll work! And your choice will make no difference except cost me more!”
-
-
The Denobulan who ran the fish and chips store had once again given Jim a discount on the food. He’d paid for the two burgers and a fish stick for himself, and received free medium sized chips to share. Jim chuckled on his way out, ignoring the glares from parents who were unused to seeing him around the neighbourhood, having no regrets about using his assets to get discounts.
He walked back into the Laundromat to Spock and McCoy standing quite close to each other, yelling heartily about detergent. They didn’t notice his entrance and Jim broke out into a grin. The two looked cute together.
“I’m not risking my scrubs, they’re the only pair I’ve got!”
“What you are doing will undoubtedly risk your scrubs. It is quite worth the extra dollar to use the correct detergent.”
“Oh, what would a hobgoblin like you know!”
“Clearly more than you do, Doctor.”
McCoy glared at Spock. Jim decided to speak up now before anything turned physical. “How about you use each one, and see if it makes a difference!”
“I’m not paying for two loads of washing,” McCoy said, turning to glare at the blonde.
Jim sighed. “Spock, you willing to pay to prove a point?” he asked.
Spock looked between the cheerful face and the angry one. “Given that rational thought processes seem to be ineffective here, I am willing to put the money towards physical proof, as it is clear the Doctor will not yield to logic.” He said, pulling the coins out of his wallet.
“Fine!” McCoy said dramatically, tossing his arms up in the air. “But if that machine eats my pants, I’m wearing yours.”
“I have no trousers with me.” Spock said, loading one machine with the correct detergent while Leonard got the other one prepared.
“What, you mean you wander around in that tiny toga thing all the time?” McCoy asked. He frowned, thinking that Vulcans would’ve have more decency than to wear only a strip of fabric over their nether bits. Having gotten his machine churning Leonard went over to Jim to grab his burger.
“I wear robes.” Spock said, as though it was the most painfully obvious thing.
Jim grinned and put the burger into Spock’s hand. “I had them cook it in new oil, so there shouldn’t be any animal products in there.” Spock nodded his gratitude. “I’ve never seen underwear like those before, though. Aren’t you worried your dick is gonna fall out?” Jim added, looking pointedly at the slip of fabric.
Spock looked at him in silent judgement, letting out a small sigh.
“Yeah, they don’t look super supportive.” McCoy piped up. “Do all Vulcans wear them, or are you just into it?” He said, craning his neck around to have a look.
Spock glared at him to stop. The two humans looked Spock in the eyes eagerly awaiting a response. “Is it a common predilection for humans to be curious about non-Terran genitalia, or is this an attempt to convey sexual interest?” He asked in complete exasperation.
“Curiosity,” McCoy said.
At the same time, Jim said “Sexual”.
McCoy and Spock both looked at Jim who just grinned at the two of them and grabbed a few chips to eat.
After a few beats of silence Spock said, “these are the Vulcan standard,” in a tone that clearly conveyed the end of the conversation.
Jim leant towards McCoy, bumping their shoulders together, and whispered “Don’t worry, I think you’re pretty cute too.”
McCoy looked at him angrily. “Dammit, how old are you, 17?” He asked loudly.
Spock smirked and silently ate his burger.
“Rude. I’m 28,” Jim said, pouting slightly.
Spock’s machine dinged and he went over to check that the mud had been successfully removed. He determined that the robe was clean enough to be moved into the dryer and set up the machine so it would not shrink the robe.
“What’d you do to your robe anyway, Spock?” McCoy asked.
“A car splashed mud and other liquidized waste products upon me as it passed at a speed unsafe for the location,” Spock explained.
McCoy groaned sympathetically. “Damn hooligans.”
Jim laughed. “Did you just say hooligans? Are you 70?”
“Thirty-four, you infant, but I sure don’t feel it.” McCoy said.
Jim laughed again. “How about you, Spock?”
“I am thirty one in Earth years,” Spock said, moving to lean against the table.
McCoy frowned. “That makes you practically a teenager in Vulcan years.”
“There are many factors to that. Vulcan culture and coming of age differs. Also, since half of my DNA is human, I have some significant differences in biology,” Spock said.
McCoy stared at him, brain ticking over. “Shit, you're that Ambassadors kid? I’ve read up about you in a medical journal once.”
Spock stopped himself from frowning. He should have been more subtle, especially knowing that the Doctor was studying xenomedicine.
Jim watched Spock and elbowed McCoy in the side. “Ah, sore subject. Sorry,” McCoy said, scratching the back of his head.
“You have not committed any offence, as such there is no need to apologize.”
“Well, I don’t have any fun mud or blood stories here. I’m just doing my monthly wash.” Jim interrupted the silence loudly, swinging his legs after he jumped onto the table. He made no effort to hide the blatant change in conversation.
McCoy turned to him, frowning deeply. “Monthly wash, good god man. You are a child.”
McCoy’s two washing machines signalled their completion in quick succession. McCoy jumped up quickly to have a look with Spock following close behind.
Jim watched the two of them from the table, hearing them muttering viciously at each other. They turned around, Spock looking triumphant. McCoy held in his hands a clean pair of pants and a shirt that had splotches of dark red and pale red stains still in it.
Jim tried not to laugh at McCoy’s thunderous expression. “Well, the shirt doesn’t look too bad, you might not get the cops called on you if you wore it back to the hospital,” he said.
“Shut up,” McCoy said, turning around to put them in the dryer together. “You too, you smug hobgoblin.” He crossed his arms and leaned against the wall, glaring at Jim and Spock.
The side of Spock’s lip twitched up into a smirk as he went over to check on his robes. Determining that the robes were dry enough to be appropriate for the meeting with his father, Spock began to pull it on over his head.
“You’re off, then?” Jim asked, sounding a bit disappointed. “You should give me your number. You too, Bones, we should hangout again some time.”
“I fully intend to never see either of you again,” McCoy said. Spock, however, silently passed Jim a slip of paper with a comm address on it after looking around quickly for a writing utensil.
“Thank you, Spock.” Jim said looking pointedly at the grumpy doctor.
“It is no issue if the doctor does not wish to join us. ” Spock said before bowing and leaving. McCoy just glared at him as he left, then went to check his scrubs.
“There’s no way they’ll be dry yet!” Jim complained.
“I’ll be fine,” McCoy said, pulling them on.
He turned to leave and Jim called out, “I’ll find you, you tease! I know where you work!”
McCoy paused at the door and turned back to look at Jim, letting out a small sigh. He grinned slowly and said with a wink, “I guess I’ll be seeing you then, darlin’.” And walked out before Jim had a chance to reply.
Jim Kirk smiled to himself and checked on the three machines that were still running. Laundry day had turned into a grand event and he was looking forward to seeing the two men again, and with any luck that day could not come soon enough.