No Is The New Yes (Part 3)

Posted on 22 Jan 2015 @ 10:47pm by Petty Officer 3rd Class Ellsworth Hudson

3,762 words; about a 19 minute read

Mission: Episode 07 - Sojourn
Location: USS Galileo - Deck 4, Main Shuttlebay
Timeline: MD44: 1400 hrs

Previously...

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

And now the conclusion...

Ellsworth was dragging a little when he entered the shuttlebay. It had been an exhausting seven hours, full of a thousand last minute requisitions and notifications in preparation of the ship's departure. It was, perhaps, one of the busiest times for a quartermaster. And while his shift was officially over, he knew he'd need to go back on duty and put in overtime after seeing Wintrow.

For Wintrow, his shift had been similar, though mostly maintenance which he'd requested to perform himself for learning purposes, and simulations to properly learn to fly a shuttle. He'd done well enough on his test several weeks ago, but his emergency procedures needed practice.

He was already waiting, when Ells entered the shuttlebay and he smiled in recognition. "You look exhausted," he commented brightly, as he sized the other man up.

"Exhausted, but still handsome," Ellsworth said, grinning as he tossed his head back and ran a hand through his hair in a dramatic gesture. "I'll have plenty of time to rest once we're underway. So, what's for lunch?"

"Uhm...I haven't really thought about where to go to be honest. I'm not very particular about what I eat, why don't you choose?" He grinned back as he watched the flair for dramatic. "That tends to work better with women," he observed cheerfully, "I mean, a woman's hair is longer...."

"Maybe so, but you'd be hard pressed to find a woman with a head of hair so thick and full and luscious," Ellsworth said, still grinning. The grin faded slowly, and he gave Wintrow a lingering look. When he finally broke eye contact, he had the answer to his earlier question. Whatever he'd felt while they were looking for the cargo this morning had survived the day intact, making it hard to think about lunch or virtually anything else. "Um, let's see. There's a Bajoran cart vendor on the promenade that sells pretty good lunch stuff. Or... I could replicate you something in my quarters. No one can access a culinary database quite like me."

"What holds your preference?" Still having absolutely no romantic intent, his gesture was quite innocent when he reached out to gently grab a handful of Ells' hair, before running his hand through it. "I'm jealous," he continued, "I have trouble keeping mine under some control at all...."

Ellsworth closed his eyes and felt the sides of his mouth tug into a private smile as the hand went through his hair. His eyes fluttered open when it was gone and slowly focused on Wintrow, like he was coming out of a daze. "It takes a lot of work. I probably spend like an hour in the bathroom every day working on making sure everything is in tip-top shape. My roommate Mels teases me and says I take more time than she does, but looking good isn't the exclusive domain of women, y'know. Ummm... Why don't we eat at my place?" It wasn't an entirely innocent suggestion, but he did prefer quiet meals to eating in the middle of the promenade's food court. "Then maybe I can tame your hair for you."

"An hour? I don't have time to take an hour to get my hair done...but if you can show me an easy way I'm all for it." He smiled innocently. "Especially if it's accompanied by good food." he could understand the desire to eat away from the crowds, being an empath, and not exactly trained to block out the masses just yet, he too sometimes felt overwhelmed and often kept to himself during meals. He dropped his hand and brushed it over Ells' before finally linking their fingers together. "I know looking good isn't exclusive to women, I just don't understand the need to spend hours on looks."

"You're like the Anti-Ellsworth right now," Ellsworth said, cutting his eyes down briefly to look at their intertwined fingers. When he looked up, he had something of a mischievous smirk as he tugged at Wintrow's hand to lead him out of the shuttlebay, into the corridor and off toward his humble quarters. "I bet we could do something quick with your hair! I don't spend the whole hour on just my hair, though. Even I'm not that vain... I have to exfoliate and moisturize and tone and shave and admire myself a little bit in the mirror. I, uh...had to look good on Risa. You know, put together. So, I just sorta fell into the routine."

"Ah.... I don't spend a whole lot of time on myself, just enough to be clean and shaven you know...ten, maybe fifteen minutes at best?" He allowed himself to be dragged along, aware of the sense of mischief but not quite knowing the full meaning of what he sensed. "How on earth can you spend a full hour? Where do you find the time?"

"I wake up really early! I'm a morning person, so I'm always up and ready to go at like 0500," Ellsworth said, practically bouncing down the corridor and into the turbolift. Being with another person had apparently energized him and allowed him to recover from the rigors of his shift. When the turbolift doors closed and set off for the section of the ship closest to his quarters, Ellsworth took the moment of privacy to slip his hand partway around Wintrow's waist and close the distance between them a little bit.

"Ten or fifteen minutes is enough, you look good... I just have a certain idea about how I want to look, so I have to work at it a little bit. That's all. It's not for everyone! Some people are natural beauties, hm?" He winked suggestively at Wintrow and then pulled him by the hand through the doors into the open corridor and along toward his quarters. "Hopefully it's still clean inside, I haven't been around a lot during shoreleave. The temporary quarters they offer on the station are so much bigger. Do you have enlisted-size quarters? It's like living in a closet!"

"I think I have....I mean, I do have to share with someone you know." The positive energy that just flowed from the other Betazoid did wonders for Wintrow's own spirits. He blushed scarlet at the compliment, not quite sure how to respond to it, much less any kind of compliment. "What do you mean, clean? Are your quarters a mess usually then?" The teenager frowned; if anything he was very, very tidy.

"Sometimes," Ellsworth said, shrugging. His apartment on Risa was always a mess with clothes everywhere, but Starfleet had taught him a little bit of discipline. Not to mention his first roommate, Ollie, was really uptight about cleanliness and now he didn't want to inconvenience Melinda by being messy. "I bet your quarters are super clean, huh?" Ellsworth turned around so that he was walking backwards and facing his friend but still holding on to him by the hand. His fingers snaked up Wintrow's thin wrist and pushed their way just slightly beneath the fabric of the pilot's uniform where he could still keep a grip but also feel along his skin and the hair on his arm. "You seem like the clean type, plus I bet they expect officers to be really on top of that stuff, huh?"

Wintrow nodded. "I don't like things being a mess," he admitted, "I like my living space to be clean and tidy. Besides...a mess in your livingspace is like a mess in your head right?" He shrugged. "I don't mind getting my hands dirty while working, but yes my private space I like to be clean." He turned his hand over, palm facing up. It seemed like a good move to make since he wasn't quite sure where Ells was going with this. Looking over his shoulder, he made sure his newfound friend wasn't walking into anything.

Ellsworth adjusted his hand so they were palm-to-palm and just smiled as he turned back around, fell in step next to Wintrow and held his hand. After a couple more doors, he brought them up short and entered the access code for his quarters while chatting, "My head is pretty messy most of the time. And then I have everyone else's messy head in my head, too, so then it's messy and cluttered. And here's my place! Well... Our place."

He dropped Wintrow's hand and made a grand sweeping gesture with his arms, revealing an enlisted-size quarters that was like virtually all the others on the ship. There were a few personal touches but for the most part it could have belonged to anyone on the ship. Ellsworth skipped once toward the replicator and then brought himself to a stop with both hands slapped against the bulkhead of the device, allowing his face to be close to the display.

"Hmmm... What should we have? You can sit on my bed if you want... I mean, there's nowhere else to sit, really. It's that one." He gestured lazily to his right. "Do you like Romulan food? I just had it for the first time on the station! I guess cuz we're close to the border they've got a couple of Romulan restaurants... It was pretty good! Simple, like Vulcan food, but it actually tastes like something."

"I've actually had Romulan food before," Wintrow mused, thinking of Galen who had planned to adopt him and then suddenly disappeared off the ship, nowhere to be found. "I loved it. How about something Betazoid? I've never had Betazoid food before...not even when I was on Betazed, isn't that just daft?"

"Betazoid food?" Ellsworth repeated, laughing. He began pulling up the ship's culinary database to scroll through so he could pick out a few favorites. "A lot of it is sweet. Like, inappropriately sweet. Who makes a meat dish sweet? You'd almost think there was no salt on the planet cuz there are so few savory dishes, but I have a few favorites. We can do a little sampling."

After inputting a few commands and making a few custom choices, Ellsworth took a half-step back and waited for the food to begin materializing: two separate platters with small portions of several dishes artfully arranged around one another. He picked them up, one in either hand, and with wobbling balance brought them over to the bed that doubled as a dining table.

"I don't think you missed your calling as a waiter," Wintrow teased as he sat down on the bed. "not that I'd do any better, my balance isn't that great. Probably why I'm a pilot, and not a marine, I'd keep tripping over my own feet for sure." He picked up a small sample of food and stuffed it in his mouth. "Yikes! This is sweet, goodness!"

"Yeah, I don't like that one. It's traditional, everyone eats it, but I never really liked it," Ellsworth said, wrinkling up his nose at the dish Wintrow had tried. He pointed his fork at a different one. "Try that one, it's a lot different." He sampled a few more of the dishes and took the occasion to steal glances of Wintrow while he ate. "You're clumsy? Noo... I wouldn't have guessed." He grinned, cut off a bite of some sort of meat and then looked suddenly very serious. "You know, you're not as quiet as I thought you'd be."

"Yea, a bit," Wintrow admitted as he selected the suggested item, "but not as much as my stepmother always told people I was. I just don't have stellar balance anymore." He stuffed the piece in his mouth and crewed thoughtfully before swallowing. "I'm not as quiet as you thought I'd be, what do you mean, am I talking too much?" There was a shift in the younger Betazoid as he grew quiet all of a sudden, the feel of his emotions changing from pretty much happy to somewhat afraid. He looked down at his hands, which he folded in his lap though he stil held on to his fork. He fell silent, wondering what it was that he'd done wrong now.

"Hey, c'mon," Ellsworth pleaded, unfolding a leg from underneath his body and extending it across the body to playfully poke Wintrow in the knee with his foot. He put his fork down on one of the plates and looked directly at the other young man. "You're not talking too much. There's no such thing as talking too much around me, anyway, cuz it's all I ever do. I just meant... When I saw you, you seemed like the quiet type. You know, like really shy and private and stuff, but you're chatty." He eased his foot a little bit forward, bending it as he did so to bring it over the top of Wintrow's knee and on to his thigh. "And I like it. That's all."

"I'm not usually," Wintrow admitted, smiling carefully, "chatty I mean. Certainly not about my childhood. But there's something about you that makes me feel safe." He covered the foot with his hand and playfully squeezed the toes. "Odd, isn't it?"

"Mm-hmm," Ellsworth said in agreement. Using the sort of strength and flexibility that showed he cared for more than just the maintenance of his hair, he managed to push the two plates aside and sit forward on one knee while leaving his foot in Wintrow's grasp. The distance between them had closed considerably and his eyes had quickly shifted from curious, engaged and understanding to a heavier lidded, sensual look, like something on the prowl. "There's something about you, too. Something very...appealing."

"Is there?" Obviously, the teenager was a little oblivious about himself, but that mostly stemmed from trying to be unnoticed and not draw the attention of his brother and stepmother. "I have this feeling," he added, leaning forward slightly, "that you want more of me than you're leading on. But I don't mind, just..don't go too fast and don't push me. Okay?"

Ellsworth's foot slipped away as he moved on to his hands and knees, crawling over closer until he was face-to-face with Wintrow. When he was mere inches from him, eyes locked, he nodded and made a guttural sound of understanding, consent and desire, both acknowledging and agreeing to what he'd requested. "Don't worry, it will be slow," fingertips traced along his cheek to his lips, "and loving," the hand moved down to rest on the young man's thigh, "and tender," soft lips were at his neck, brushing against the skin with every word, "and sweet," he leaned forward toward Wintrow, "and passionate."

---

Wintrow still couldn't believe he had done this. No rushing, he had said. No pushing, he had said, indicating he had aimed to avoid exactly what had transpired in the last hour or so. If it was an hour at all, because it seemed so much longer. The young pilot turned his head, his eyes traveling across the warm body that partially covered his and he reached up, letting his hand follow his gaze. He certainly hadn't meant for this to happen on a first date! And what would Nesh think? What would Ells' roommate think? Provided, she hadn't already walked in on them.

"Ells?" His voice croaked as he spoke, and he swallowed a few times, his hand still traveling across the bare skin of his... his what?

Ellsworth's mind was hazy with euphoria, flooded with all the chemicals an ordinary humanoid would experience - norepinephrine, serotonin, oxytocin, vasopressin, prolactin - in addition to whatever else his Betazoid physiology afforded him. And there was a difference, he knew, because he could feel it. He was always a plane above his partner, no doubt elevated there by the biochemistry that made his species a distinctly physical one.

And it was a good place to be right now. In the larger scheme of things it was probably a two-steps-forward-one-step-back type of situation, undoing some of the progress he'd made to distance himself from using sex as a crutch, but that was irrelevant for the moment. It was temporary - maybe a day, maybe two - but he wouldn't have to think about Pennington or any of the others, and he wouldn't feel like broken or damaged goods.

"Hmm?" Ellsworth said, slowly adjusting himself to meet Wintrow's gaze. It had taken him a moment to even register that the other man had said anything but now that he was looking at him he smiled. There was a healthy glow about his partner and that brought him some deep level of satisfaction.

Trailing his one hand up to run his fingers through the Betazoid's hair, Wintrow smiled. "I guess slow didn't quite work, did it," he teased, while the other rested against the small of his back. "And you are a very passionate man, very hard to resist."

Ellsworth's smile turned into a grin. "Irresistibly passionate, huh? You're pretty good for my ego..." He moved his head to press into Wintrow's hand as it ran through his hair but felt the nagging creep of self-doubt in the back of his head. It was one of the same things that always plagued him, worrying about what the other person thought of their encounter. Would Wintrow expect a committed relationship? More encounters? Would he later grow to regret what they'd done and purposely look at his feet or the wall when they passed each other in the corridor. "Are you, uh...okay with what happened? I mean... I know it wasn't slow. But...that's okay?"

"I'm capable of saying no, when I mean no," Wintrow answered after a few seconds of consideration. "And I wouldn't be remaining here like this if I wasn't okay with it. It's been a while, that's all....What about you?"

Whatever tension had started building in Ellsworth's body seeped away after Wintrow's response, and he relaxed back into their mutual embrace. For a few moments, he forgot about the question and focused on the feeling of his fingers moving over Wintrow's shoulder, arm, and hip.

It was nice to forget things. Why bother with things that had already happened? Why worry about what would happen in the future? It was best to be all in the present, to feel the ridges on one's fingers as they slid over smooth, warm skin. The past and the future seemed to hold only pain or the promise of it, but the present? The present was feeling his hand move over the bump of Wintrow's pelvis, hearing his rhythmic breathing, being sensitive to the pressure of their bodies resting together. You could derive pleasure from that, enough to wash your other cares away...for a time.

"Me?" Ellsworth asked, dragging himself away from his inner thoughts again to focus on Wintrow. He quickly grinned when he thought about the question and continued to slide his hand around Wintrow's hip until it rested on his backside, as if to emphasize his point. "I was more than okay with it... And it's been...hmm. Well. A while for me, too." It had actually been more than a while given his nature but sometimes you were better off omitting some details. Looking at Wintrow, his thoughts quickly turned affectionate and he used his free hand to brush along the other man's cheek. "You look so beautiful right now."

Not used at all at getting compliments of any sort, Wintrow's cheeks flushed hotly against the Betazoid's hand. And for a few seconds, he was at an honest loss for words, but his feelings spoke volumes. He turned his head and kissed the palm of his hand. "So do you," he finally replied, though it sounded so clich. "And you feel it too. I can sense happiness from you now, and what feels like a sense of peace but I'm not sure."

The younger man shifted, his movement causing the thin blanket to slide from their bodies. He winced a little, just a fraction too noticeable for him to quickly hide it. Dark eyes settled on the other man, hoping he hadn't noticed.

Ellsworth lifted an eyebrow but said nothing; it was fairly obvious what the origin of the wince had been and talking about it out loud wasn't going to make it any better. Instead, Ellsworth did the thing he was best at doing and moved to make a loving, apologetic, comforting gesture by tightening his grip on Wintrow to draw him closer and then kissing him for a long moment. He broke it before it threatened to lead him down the same path again and gave a lopsided smile that seemed to say "sorry."

"I am happy and at peace," Ellsworth confirmed, though he left out any commentary on how fleeting it was likely to be. He wasn't sure how to show his gratitude to Wintrow, least of all because it had seemed like an uneven deal. He'd been the one who needed it, and, despite his inexperience and a personality that probably made this sort of thing the exception rather than the rule, Wintrow had been kind enough to oblige. For what it was worth he focused his thoughts on gratitude, knowing the other would pick up on them, and leaned in to give him another, quicker kiss. "I think Melinda is gonna be home in like half an hour. D'you wanna get some ice cream or something with me?" Hearing it out loud almost made him wince; it hadn't seemed half as juvenile sounding in his head.

"I'd love to," Wintrow replied happily. He gave in to the cuddle first, before stretching lazily. "And maybe some chocolate syrup waffles to go with them?" Like most (half) Betazoids, Wintrow was crazy about anything chocolate, just not too overly sweet. "Didn't get much to eat for lunch," he added ruefully.

OOC-B: I can't necessarily think of anything else to add that would make a better ending! Shall we close it out here? Also, there's a personal log I want to put out from Ellsworth right after this if we could hold off on posting for a day or so. :)

Works for me... I'm not too picky about chronology (Wintrow is on Rigel between MD8 and MD??, 38 I think? Lirha's wedding...gets his first female experience there, with Nesh LOL)

 

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