Do we do or do we not? Part 1/2

Posted on 24 Apr 2015 @ 10:14pm by Lieutenant JG Grayson Jones
Edited on on 30 Apr 2015 @ 5:32pm

1,695 words; about a 8 minute read

Mission: Episode 08 - NIMBUS
Location: USS Galileo: 02-3216 SO, Grayson's Temporary Quaters
Timeline: MD 02, 0300

ON:

After leaving the party, and, the blood wine behind Grayson decided it was time to head back to his temporary personal quarters. While as Acting Chief on the Galileo, he would have the rights as well as the responsibilities. The place was bare other than a few personal things he grabbed, figuring he would not be there for long, he saw no need to clutter the place up.

With a rather tipsy slur to his speech, Grayson turned to his companion and said, "Forgive the bareness, I'm just here for, well, as long as this mission lasts. Oh I really need some food."

Not having expected this at all, Tyrion just smiled as he looked around. "This sure is bigger than what I've got," he commented lightly, while steering his companion to the couch. "And I think I'll second he food part, Klingon food is so...heavy. And the blood wine..." He grinned lopsidedly. "Got to my head right quick, didn't it?"

"You aren't the only one," Grayson giggled as he enjoyed being led towards the couch. "I hate Klingon food. Travelling around with my father a lot when I was younger, I was dragged to lots of different diplomatic functions. Being so small, I was always made to try things as people looked on and jeered or waited with baited breath on how I would respond. Klingons were the worst. Always calling me 'Little Warrior', or not battle ready." Slumping on the couch, Grayson finally allowed his body to relax.

"I suppose being a child does make one a little warrior," Tyrion conceded as he made -in a not so straight line- for the replicator, "so I guess they had a point?" He replicated two grilled cheese sandwiches and big mugs of the blackest coffee he could find on the list, then slowly and carefully -so not to spill- shuffled back to the couch. "Here," he said, unceremoniously shoving a plate and mug forward. "Should help," he added before taking a big swig of the bitter brew.

Grayson hated coffee, his face couldn't hide it. He knew it would help though. "True, it was always more they way they said it though, and the way my father would just smile," Grayson started to unbutton his dress uniform, "Why do they always make these things so damned uncomfortable?" The top of his chest was exposed, so much so part of his chest tattoo became visible.

"To keep us in a pose? They are rather stiff..." Tyrion shrugged out of his jacket and tossed it aside. Letting his eyes travel across Grayson's body he sipped his coffee. "You have body art?" he asked curiously, then grimaced at the bitterness of the coffee.

"Yeah, a hollowed out star, the first of many I am planning," Grayson pulled down the rest of his jacket to expose the tattoo on his left pectoral, a traditional star, hollowed out, thick black line. It was offset enough that one of the five points, pointed up towards his shoulder. "Got any yourself?"

Tyrion shook his head as he admired the artwork. "What does it represent?" he asked, clearly interested.

"Possibilities," Grayson said quite plainly. He started tracing round the line with his finger. "It's not filled in, in the hopes one day it will be. When I get to where I want to be...who I am meant to be with," he let his voice trail off a little at the end, wishing he was back on the blood wine.

"So...in time you're filling it up?" Tyrion asked, boldly reaching to touch one of the star's points. "But what if you make a wrong decision?"

A wave of electricity coursed through Grayson's body. He was thrilled at the touch, comforted. "Eventually, yes," he began, "mistakes always happen though, they can stay with me, or cover them up." A soft gasp of a laugh, escaped from his lips as he looked fondly on Tyrion.

"Oh true," the Betazoid chuckled, burying his face in his mug to hide his expression while tracing down the line with his finger. "How long have you had these?"

Giving a small sigh, showing his enjoyment of the touch, Grayson was having a tough time keeping his emotions in check. "This, about three years. I have plans for more down my arm though. Just need to find someone I trust to do the rest." He continued to smile, a little wearily as he felt the blood wine start to leave his body.

"More stars?" He traced the line down to the next point, shining black eyes peering at the other man over the brim of his mug. "Is there no-one on the ship? Perhaps Doctor Voutilainen is able? She seems to enjoy body art too..."

"I'll need to go talk to her then. But as for more, I was thinking music. It is my other passion in life, well, other than engineering, drinking and well..." Grayson let his voice trail off, a little timid to admit the next thought that nearly escaped his brain/mouth filter.

"And...?" Tyrion prompted curiously, lowering the mug to openly stare at him.

Without a word, Grayson leant in like he had done before and stole another kiss, this time just a little more forceful than before, spurred on by the constant touch. "Romance," Grayson responded as he pulled his head away ever so slightly, allowing Tyrion to make the next move, should he want to now Grayson's intentions were known.

Breath caught in his throat in surprise and Tyrion leaned back a fraction to study him. "Nothing wrong with romance," he breathed, shifting his hand from the inked star up to Grayson's cheek. "I only recently learned that, only to be left heartbroken." His eyes never left the other man as he leaned in, their lips touching lightly. "I liked that," he whispered seductively.

"There will always be lots more of them here for you then, and significantly less heartbreak. Had too much of that myself and don't want any more of it any time soon." Grayson moved his cheek more into Tyrion's hand and waited with baited breath on what would happen next.

Using his thumb to caress the cheek, Tyrion offered a reasonably chaste kiss at first. "I like that even better," he murmured, a little bolder in his second kiss now though he closed his eyes. "And it seems so do you," he added, smiling around the kiss.

Feeling an equal increase in boldness, Grayson went in more forcefully for a kiss. Positioning himself in a way he could wrap his arms around Tyrion's neck and let them droop over his shoulders, his happiness would no doubt be infectious to even the most dense empath within a ship to ship radius. His spots than ran down his body, grazed his tattoo started to fee alive, burning with the glow that was radiating from him.

Knowing a Trill's spots were sensitive, Tyrion set his mug down and raised his other arm to brush his fingers over the spots that ran own Grayson's face and neck, gently caressing them. "Do you feel less cloud-headed now?" he asked softly, "does it help?"

Letting out a low moan of pleasure, "That does, you seem to be the only person who known my weakness. The spots on my neck are extra sensitive. A touch," Grayson ran his fingers along Tyrion's neck, mimicking the kind of touch that would turn him to putty in any man's hands. "A kiss," he kissed Tyrion's neck in the same fashion, "they all the things you now know to weaken me and bring me under your power." Grayson smirked a little more suggestively than he had been smiling and flirting all night.

"I wouldn't do that," the Betazoid promised, "I'll never take advantage of you." His breath came out in a quiver and ended in a sigh. "Unless you want me to?" He leaned against the broader man's shoulder as he was kissed, then shifted so he was all but sitting on his lap. "But then...no...I won't do anything you don't want me to do."

Leaning into his ear, Grayson whispered very softly and seductively, "I'm the kind of guy, once you earn my trust, you can do with me as you wish. Pulling me back from that fight, holding my arm? You've more than earned my trust." With that Grayson began nibbling on Tyrion's neck, hoping he would take up the offer.

Tyrion held his breath but continued to stroke the sensitive spots with the tips of his fingers, nuzzling them on the other side. After a few seconds, he leaned up to trail a few kisses along his cheek, back to his mouth. "I didn't fancy the idea of seeing you struck down without cause," he whispered back. "Even if the idea of nursing you is appealing."

In one swift move, Grayson removed the rest of his jacket, revealing all of his tattoo and the rest of his spots, while moving into a position to straddle Tyrion's hips and letting his arms hang around his neck and hang over his shoulders. "Well, it completely won me over, and that," a kiss, "is something," another kiss, "is something that has not happened in a long time.

"I've always wondered how far a Trill's spots go," Tyrion murmured playfully, leaning back on the couch, pulling Grayson with him. Though the other man seemed soberder now, Tyrion's head was still swimming a little, and with blood being rushed to other places now, it wasn't helping much. He rested his hands against Grayson's sides and tugged the shirt out of his pants, then slipped his hands underneath. "Are your hands colder too than normal?"

"All the way down," Grayson winked, "but my hands are perfectly fine, being part human I don't have that particular Trill peculiarity, that and a perfectly flat and pouch free stomach too. Want to see?" He asked teasingly, spurred on by the little blood wine that was left in his system.

TBC:

CPO Tyrion Faye
Intelligence Officer
USS Galileo
Pnpc T'Vanna

Lieutenant (JG) Grayson Jones
Chief Engineering Officer
USS Galileo

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