No Is The New Yes (Part 2)

Posted on 22 Jan 2015 @ 10:46pm by Petty Officer 3rd Class Ellsworth Hudson

3,226 words; about a 16 minute read

Mission: Episode 07 - Sojourn
Location: USS Galileo - Deck 4, Main Shuttlebay
Timeline: MD44: 0700 hrs

Previously...

"Me too.." The normally very shy and timid half-Betazoid felt oddly at ease right now. He looked down at the hand that touched his, and smiled back. "I got here right in that tribble mess, but thankfully after that we had shoreleave right. Went on a trip to Rigel of all places and I don't even remember half of what happened to be honest. I had way too much to drink, and the heat was just well...hot." He paused, blushing slightly. "Commodore's wedding, my roommate is her sister. I was lucky she looked out for me, I'm not really used to just let all gears go you know. And I do think you know...there's something about you, something that makes me feel connected. Not in a romantic sense mind you, I'm not looking for that at all. But there's something..."

And now the continuation...

Ellsworth had moved with him into the storage closet and began inspecting cargo labels, looking for the matching serials that would be the missing containers. At the last bit, he stopped, straightened up and looked at Wintrow over a container that stood at about chest height. He got the impression that might have been more than the shy young man said to most people in a whole week, much less the span of a few minutes, but the last part had thrown him for a moment. After staring for a moment or two, he finally shrugged and smirked in a slightly cocky way.

"Well, I do have that effect on people," Ellsworth said, running a hand through his hair. He grinned and winked at Wintrow, then went back to inspecting the labels. "That's very kind of you... I, uh, don't make a lot of friends. Or, haven't, at least. Not that I've had a lot of experience with it. I've only lived two places - Betazed and Risa - and they weren't exactly fun times, you know?" He cleared his throat, allowed an awkward silence to fall, and then suddenly spoke up again. "You know the Commodore's sister? Wow, fancy. You got to go to her wedding? I bet it was really nice... You didn't get in any trouble, did you?" Something about his tone implied that if there places had been reversed, Ellsworth would have gotten in all kinds of trouble.

"Not in a bad kind no, at least I don't think so. Yes, Cadet Saalm is my roommate. And I do understand, about no fun places. I've only been to Betazed once, to meet my grandfather for the first time. He didn't even know I existed. Dad never thought to tell him after my mom died. I never knew my mom...my real mom I mean. Dad died two years ago, and I believe my stepmother killed him."

He'd had a funny, suggestive comment ready to go about getting in the bad kind of fun, but he couldn't for the life of him remember it now. Wintrow's admission had wiped away all memory of it, leaving Ellsworth in stunned silence. He was the last person to play counselor to someone even at the best of times, much less given his current state, so he found himself at a loss for words.

"That's...tragic," Ellsworth stuttered. The revelation had caused him to reflect on his own parents for a moment, which was a rarity. His own circumstances were different but no less tragic, and for that he felt a sort of kinship with Wintrow. "My parents died in the invasion. You, uh... Did you get along with your dad? Kinda seems a little weird that he wouldn't mention you to your grandfather. Is it cuz you're not all Betazoid? Some people were assholes like that, I remember."

"Nah, me and dad got along great, but he was hardly ever home. He was a diplomat, and I never told him what went on at home either, didn't want to worry him. A child's ignorance I guess, I loved my dad. I think, in the end he did know, because he sent me away from home. He couldn't take me on his assignments you see, he did tell me that once when I asked if I could go with him." Wintrow shrugged. "I loved my dad," he repeated sadly, "but I have a great guardian. Legal guardian I mean, but I suppose he's sort of a big brother to me. He does treat me as his little brother and that's just great. Him and his husband both." He looked sideways as he studied the labels on the crate in front of him. "Do you have someone you can depend on, family wise?"

"No," Ellsworth replied, almost immediately. Standing alone - one single word - the response seemed to carry a heavy weight of finality with it. Wintrow was sweet and had warmed up to him so well that he almost felt compelled to reciprocate. Almost. But while he was more than happy to explore things together with someone under the sheets, his mind and heart and memories were something else altogether. Those cards he played much, much closer to his chest, so when he spoke up it was to shift the focus back on to the other young man. "You said 'what went on at home.' What did you mean? You don't seem like the type to cause trouble..."

"Depends on how you look at it. I spent a lot of time in hospital and yet doctors either didn't catch on or turned a blind eye. I have a half sister left, my half brother is dead." He said it in such a manner that hatred was audible in his voice. Wintrow was no longer smiling and was looking at the floor, his eyes turned almost black with emotion.

Ellsworth frowned from behind a cargo container. He hadn't wanted to talk about his own somber past, so what had lead him to start digging into Wintrow's? Clearly it was filled with as much, if not more, sorrow than his own, and it seemed like nothing good would come from pushing it further. The room already felt much smaller than it had earlier, as if the heavy weight of heavy emotions was causing the walls to press in on them.

There was a definitely need to lighten the mood, but Ellsworth felt particularly ill equipped to take the task on. While he was definitely something of a social butterfly and loved to be the center of attention, his repertoire of social skills was about as depressingly limited as his general knowledge. He'd been poorly socialized as a child and since then he'd been more or less stumbling through life, lurching from one social encounter to the next and hoping for the best.

Ultimately, he decided to fall back on what he knew best. Rounding the cargo container next to Wintrow, he quietly slipped up next to him and wrapped a hand firmly but gently around his wrist. He allowed his hand to move just a few inches up Wintrow's arm and finally looked him in the eyes, gently pulling at his arm just to give himself something to do.

"I'm glad we met today," Ellsworth said. He smiled shyly and awkwardly, a rare reflection of his inner state that lacked all the usual bluster and bravado. He was as close as he'd been when they met earlier, but he hoped that it would be much less uncomfortable for the other man now that they knew one another slightly better. Smiling at him, saying something kind, and running a thumb rhythmically along Wintrow's inner wrist was a heavy handed approach lacking in finesse. But it was the best he had, and he hoped it was better than nothing.

For several minutes, Wintrow just stood and said nothing. His breath came slowly, inhale, exhale, at an almost calculated pace. Finally, the younger man turned his head, taking a small step to bring him face to face with Ells. "So am I," he replied slowly, while gently pulling back his hand. "I'm sorry you got dumped with all of that, I never intended to spill my past on you. I'm sorry. But you know, it felt safe, and you have this air about you...I think you've gone through something similar. You don't have to tell me, but I'll listen if you do want to. Fair's fair."

The pilot looked back at the labels then pointed at a small section. "Here's your error, someone read an eight for a three, and an O for a D..."

Ellsworth was grateful Wintrow discovered the error when he did to keep him from doing something stupid and impulsive. In a supply closet with an attractive, young, submissive guy in the midst of an emotional tumultuous moment for both of them seemed tailor made for the sort of Ellsworth Hudson trademark 'mistake.'

"Huh," he said, leaning in to inspect the label for himself. His squint slowly turned into a scowl after realizing just how much of his morning had been wasted by someone's near illiteracy, but it softened considerably when he thought of all the mistakes he made. On a daily basis. Or, sometimes, on an hourly basis. "I guess it's an easy enough mistake to make, right?" The remark was almost rhetorical as Ellsworth was so buried in his PADD that he probably wouldn't hear Wintrow's reply even if he'd made one. After a brief minute of entering commands, he smiled and seemed satisfied. Everything finally reconciled.

"You, uh, don't have to apologize," Ellsworth said, looking up from the device. He hadn't bothered to move, so they were still close enough for him to make out the individual characteristics in Wintrow's eyes that made them unique. "I didn't mean to be all cagey... I just don't usually talk to people about stuff. You know, personal stuff. And I had a really bad night last night, so I'm kinda on edge." He fell silent again, mentally working his way through what he wanted to say before he actually said it. "I don't have any family because they're all dead, died in the war. I'm from Medara in the southern provinces, the first place that the Jem'Hadar hit. I don't really remember it, but apparently it was pretty bad. I guess the Vorta thought if they hit us hard enough, caused enough devastation and destruction, then they could break our will to resist... So, Medara was pretty much wiped off the map and my family with it."

"I'm sorry.." Now it was Wintrow's turn to reach out, and he did. "But you survived," he added, "and you're here now." He gestured around, intending to encompass all of Galileo in his gesture. "This is your home and family now though, isn't it?" He smiled encouragingly, reaching to lift Ells' face up so he could properly look at him. The man's eyes seemed true black, just like most Betazoids. Unlike Wintrow's, whose eyes were a deep blue. "I'm from Earth, I suppose. Born and raised there, insofar you can call it that."

Surviving was about all Ellsworth could claim. He'd managed to make a life for himself out of what he was given and what he could take, but up until this past year it hadn't amounted to much. For all its flaws, Starfleet was at least providing him with an opportunity make a real and meaningful investment in his own development.

"Earth, huh? I can't decide if that must have been really cool or really boring," Ellsworth grinned, making his tone a little teasing. "It's like every little thing is perfect. All the trees grow right. All the lines in the city are symmetrical and aligned, like roads and buildings. Everything is clean. Everyone has plenty to eat and never worries about their needs. The landscape is lush and beautiful, and all the people are attractive." The corner of his mouth tugged into an impish smile and he looked boldly into Wintrow's eyes rather than make some false, bashful move. "It seems... There's a word for it. Surreal?"

"Surreal," Wintrow echoed with a small nod, "but yes the air was clean, and I had food, but only enough to survive. And a half-brother whose sole purpose and joy seemed to be to make my life hell. Encouraged by his mother." He dropped his hand but held the stare. "But we're here now, and we're safe, right? Making a good life for ourselves and getting better, yes?"

Ellsworth held the stare, too, but seemed to be looking into and beyond Wintrow's eyes as he reflected on what the young man had said. Safe? Making a good life? Getting better? He had to wonder. He'd thought he was in a safe place making a good life and getting better... But then he burned up Van Zyl's plants, screwed up a requisition for Elijah, and couldn't quite get himself in line with Starfleet regulations. Then there was Pennington. He'd thought he emerged from that feeling stronger, but all it had really shown him was how temporary his progress had been. His new life was nothing more than a house of cards waiting for any gust of wind to blow it down.

That made him feel vulnerable. And thinking about his family was always like popping the cork off twenty years of stifled, contained and buried emotions: unresolved feelings of abandonment, the torment of his early childhood, fighting and yelling and pushing back against a system so hard that all he did was make himself into something that was unloved and unwanted. Together, in the present, all of it was making his hands shake and pushing him into a panicked state. Wintrow's words, while kind and supportive, might as well have fallen on deaf ears.

The panic seemed to make something snap and now there was a lean and hungry look in his eyes, like burning selfish desire. It was old habits, seeking comfort and relief from his own torment in the arms of another person. Later, he might try to convince himself that he had acted under duress, that he wasn't really himself. But as he took the half-step forward that completely closed the distance between the two young men he knew that he was completely in control of himself, and he was making a conscious decision.

It wasn't necessarily a good thing, he knew. It wasn't a healthy way of addressing his problems. But it was the only thing he knew. As one hand slid along beneath Wintrow's arm, passing over his elbow and coming to rest along the back of his upper arm he had the heady sensation of easing into something familiar and well-worn, like slipping into your favorite leather jacket with the perfect fit.

Wintrow stood frozen, not really having expected this despite being more than aware of Ells' feelings right now. "What are you doing?" he whispered, though he made no move to shy away from the touch. It indicated, at least to the other man, that he wasn't entirely opposed to being seen with someone of the same gender. He blinked slowly, watching the hand slide up his arm. His own hands were tightly folded around the PADD he held, his own PADD. He didn't even realise he was holding his breath in anxious anticipation.

For the briefest moment, Ellsworth questioned himself. He heard Pennington - you know you want it - and wondered if he might be taking advantage of the shy young man for his own gain. He knew that sometimes the victim took on the traits of their assailant, continuing the chain of abuse, but he told himself this was different. He was just being assertive and confident. He was just pursuing a goal - to feel better, to feel wanted. The fine line was consent, and so far Wintrow seemed to show no signs of resisting.

"Nothin'," Ellsworth whispered playfully, guiding his free hand around Wintrow's waist. He used the embrace to pull him closer while sliding his hand up from the cadet's arm to his shoulder, neck, and finally cheek. He moved his thumb slowly and rhythmically; they were anything but full cheeks because of his size, but the skin was smooth and soft and it made Ellsworth smile. Elijah, Grayson and all the other men that had drifted in and out of his life suddenly faded away into secondary...tertiary...non-existent concerns. As ever, he was living completely in the moment. Even Oren seemed far and distant; he was happy to have him back, to revel in the physical intimacy of their friendship, but there were limitations to that...

Wintrow shook his head, though he did smile. "Don't," he said, "not now, not here." He gently pushed Ells' hand down, back to his arm. "I'm not opposed, but not here. I'm on duty Ells, I can't afford any reprimands for fraternization on while on duty. And you're on duty too, it would look even worse on you."

Ellsworth had to actually tell himself that 'not now, not here' wasn't rejection, as anything remotely close to it stung him painfully. Moving on from that in the span of a microsecond, he then smiled like he didn't care if they were on or off duty. He did, of course. He didn't want to get in trouble, and, more importantly, he didn't want to get Wintrow in trouble. Pieter Van Zyl droned on about fraternization in the back of his head (Hudson, I'm not so sure you know the difference between being friendly with your fellow crewmembers and falling into bed with them) while he leaned forward, tilted his head slightly and pushed his soft, well-pampered, parted lips against Wintrow's. It wasn't a needy kiss, not nearly as needy and steamy and passionate as he wanted it to be; instead, it was far more restrained but no less pleasurable given how wicked and taboo it was.

"Later then?" Ellsworth asked, drawing his brow together in a sort of pout. His hand moved from around Wintrow's waist and rested on his hip as he took a step back, allowing for a more appropriate amount of distance to develop between them.

"Why don't you meet me for lunch?" Wintrow asked, gently taking another step to create a little more distance. The kiss had caught him off-guard but it hadn't been unpleasant. "I get off duty around two."

"Okay, 1400 hours then," Ellsworth said, counting the hours in his head. The entire thing had been precipitated by his feelings in that moment - the overwhelming pressure for release - so seven hours from now, he had no idea what sort of mood he'd be in. Sometimes they could be as changing as the blowing wind. As his eyes roved over Wintrow's face, looking for telltale signs of the other man's enthusiasm, he wondered how long the desire would last.

"Come pick me up on the flight deck? I should be there all of my shift. If I change location, I'll call ahead."

To be continued....

PO3 Ellsworth Hudson
Quartermaster
USS Galileo
[ PNPC - Mott ]

&

Cadet SO Wintrow Paragon
Support Craft Pilot
USS Galileo
[ PNPC - T'Vanna ]

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