A Decent Proposal

Posted on 02 Oct 2015 @ 8:42pm by Petty Officer 3rd Class Ellsworth Hudson & Commander Andreus Kohl

3,114 words; about a 16 minute read

Mission: Episode 09 - Empires
Location: USS Galileo - Deck 4, Chief Science Officer's Office
Timeline: MD 03 - 1010 hours

Previously on NIMBUS’ “Danger Men” and "Awkward Elevator Ride":

"To my regret," Kohl said softly, and there was a catch in his breath when he felt Ells' fingers on his neck, "Only your dream can share your bed." His grip on Ellsworth's uniform remained firm; he maintained the half-an-arm's-length between their bodies. Kohl's breathing was heavier than it had been moments earlier, as if his chest were finding ways to draw closer to the other man. Then, Kohl said, "I've only just found you again, but I ship off to the Nautilus today."

He took one of Ellsworth's hands between both of his own, and he gave it a formal shake. Almost as soon as he did so, Kohl leaned in to plant a light kiss on each of Ellsworth's cheeks. "Be brave," Kohl said.

The young Betazoid gave him a quizzical look, clearly puzzled by the exchange. A handshake? Kiss on the cheek? What the hell? After working it over in his mind for a few moments, he frowned up at Kohl, threw his arms around his neck and pulled until he was on his tip-toes. His tongue made its way between Kohl's lips very shortly after they were pressed together. He was sick of being playful and flirtatious; he'd had enough of that foreplay at the ball and in the past few minutes in the cargo bay, and he'd be damned if he was going to walk out of the cargo bay with a kiss on the cheek.

---

Ellsworth stared in open disbelief, the sort you couldn't hide even if you wanted. Lieutenant Commander Andreus Kohl, marching in place in a turbolift, aboard the USS Galileo. Right there before his eyes. The shock was almost immediately disfigured, turning first into a scowl and then shifting into pure vengeance. He stomped into the turbolift and shoved Kohl in the shoulder hard, using momentum and the right segment of the military step to try to throw him off balance. Somewhere on the ship, Petty Officer First Class Pieter Van Zyl probably felt a disturbance as an enlisted crewman struck one of the ship's senior officers, but Ellsworth was so angry that the inappropriateness of it didn't even cross his mind.

"What the hell, Andreus? Did I step through some kinda science thingy and I'm in a Nautilus turbolift now? Did you manage to get some sort of 'special permission' from Commander Blake to abandon your post?" Ellsworth asked, taking an open palm to Kohl's chest and giving him another angry shove. To anyone who might be observing through the ship's security systems, the Betazoid's tiny little fury would be a little amusing given the differences in size, rank, and frame between the two men. "Or did you just make up all that 'Oh, I want to be there' stuff?"

And now, the continuation…


[ON]

Kohl was sitting low in his chair with his legs propped up on the desk when he door chime sounded. The very thought of standing was exhausting. His jacket was hanging over the back of his chair, and his teal tunic was half-open down the front. Kohl dropped the PADD he was reading onto his chest, when he said, "Enter."

Ellsworth waited for the doors to automatically part after the command from the interior and then stepped inside, PADD at the ready and bag hitched up high on his shoulder. He had been prepared for the call since all the department heads were harassing him about supplies, but none of the others had seemed quite so...relaxed. When his eyes began to drift to the half-opened tunic, he smiled to himself.

There were many things Ellsworth did not know: the real purpose of Requistion Form HK-7737; the necessity for things like calculus and quantum mechanics; what half the people on the ship actually did... But among the things he did know, the things he understood with the utmost intimacy, were need and desire. Those things he could spot a mile away. Or, as the case may be, sitting right in front of him. The carefully half-opened tunic, revealing just the right amount of definition. The angle of the legs, propped just so that they formed a line which drew the eyes down their length to the hips. The indifferent, almost haughty authority which always seemed to hang around Kohl but was now amplified by posture and demeanor so as to enhance the inherent imbalance of power in the room.

He hadn't been called here in any sort of official capacity - at least not the sort listed on the ship's rosters. He was here for a kind of game. And for all the trauma of the past two weeks, it was Ellsworth's sort of game, and he wasn't about to turn that down.

"You asked to see me?"

"Indeed. I desire your expertise, Mister Hudson," Kohl replied. He didn't meet Ellsworth's eyes, though, and he swung his legs down from his desk, which obscured how much he intended the double entendre. With his boots on the floor, Kohl shifted his posture in the chair and gestured towards the chair opposite him. "I've prioritized my supplies requisitions based on tasks. Selecting an asteroid landing pad; diagnosing the secondary deflector array," Kohl explained, "but I could prioritize my requests better if I knew what resources were required in digging the supplies out. Things like person-hours, anti-grav needs, or if anything is only accessible by transporter."

"Hmmm," Ellsworth said thoughtfully.

He crossed to the chair situation opposite Kohl's desk and poured himself into it. The young quartermaster took his time retrieving data on his PADD, all the while letting the computer do the work so he could occupy his mind elsewhere. He recalled first his last disastrous encounter with Kohl, the thought of which drew his brow together momentarily. To say that it had been an off day for him would have been an understatement: he’d been a step or two back from raving lunatic, drug-induced psychotic, alternatively throwing himself at the man and venting emotions. But beyond that were the more pleasant memories: their meeting in the cargo bay, their first anonymous encounter at the masquerade, the sound and feeling of the low hum of enjoyment reverberating in the depths of the Argelian’s throat.

Ellsworth looking up from the PADD without moving his head; his glance was apologetic but short-lived as he quickly returned his attention to the device in his hands.

“I’m afraid it looks like it’s going to take a lot of digging. Most of the science and engineering supplies were preserved, but they’re buried. Literally, in many cases. Everyone in Ops is overworked and stressed, pulling double shifts, trying to sort out the power supply and computer problems. The command staff have prioritized repairs so much that virtually everyone we have is working on the EPS trunks. Materials and requisitions are taking a backseat except when I can catch the odd crewman without enough to do.

“I understand the need is great, but mostly everything is inaccessible at the moment,” Ellsworth said, slowly smoothing out the pant leg along his left thigh, a minor distraction before his eyes moved to lock with Kohl’s. “How badly do you need it, sir?”

As if scratching an itch, Kohl placed the flat of his palm against the base of his own neck. He breathed out through his nose, as he gave his sternum a quick massage. His eyes didn't look anywhere but at Ellsworth. "My needs cross a spectrum of badness," Kohl imparted.

"I don't imagine anyone is crawling into the sensor pallets until we set Galileo down on an asteroid," Kohl said, "which makes Astrometrics my top priority. We don't have the power to operate all the labs. Astrometrics is looking for the asteroid to call home. My team have carried away the debris, and replaced burned out components with parts we've coaxed out of the labs that took less damage. But the holographic projectors are unique."

"Holographic projectors," Ellsworth mumbled, talking entirely to himself. His attention was focused fully on the PADD as he accessed schematics, cross-referenced damage reports from engineering, and checked for available supplies within the ship's stores. He wasn't the fleet's best quartermaster. In fact, he may have been close to being the fleet's worst quartermaster. But, when properly motivated, he had occasional bursts of brilliance.

Kohl said, "Holographic projection isn't the most essential technology, but the creative mind is a fickle thing. Sometimes it helps to see the big picture. In a literal sense. At the moment, I have personnel without anywhere to work. Perhaps I could send them mining for missing components?"

Ellsworth ignored him while he went through the data the PADD was displaying. Engineering had filed a damage report for Astrometrics that gave detailed assessments of the state of the holographic projectors, which in turn allowed him to search out the appropriate parts. A lot of it was buried in one of the storage compartments but the hardest part seemed to be the repair itself.

"I'm sure I could put them to good use and work them hard," Ellsworth said, slowly looking up; his smile stretched until it threatened to turn wicked. "We've got the parts needed to fix the holoprojectors in Astrometrics. They just need to be dug out of storage room 33C. And then I can get...a friend...from engineering to conduct the repair. The computer says it shouldn't take more than two hours. And in the meantime, maybe some of your people can help me? I have needs, too. Sir."

Kohl stared back at Ellsworth, just stared at him. His body and his face remained still; now he was giving no indication that he was listening to anything Ellsworth was saying. The first twitch came to Kohl's mouth, as he chewed at bit at the inside of his lower lip. His gaze drifted from Ellsworth's eyes, staring at his lips too. Kohl discarded his PADD on the desk, and he said, "What are you doing after your shift?"

At first, Ellsworth had a knowing smile that was subtle and expectant. But that faded as his brow drew together and a mix of confusion and disgust overtook him. He leaned forward, narrowed his eyes, and stared at Kohl, like something truly heinous had just transpired. "Huh? What did you say?"

Ellsworth's response also brought about a two-staged reaction from Kohl. Initially, Kohl squinted bafflement at Ellsworth, because he thought his question had been pretty straight-forward, pretty simple. That was followed by a self-conscious furrowing of Kohl's brow, as he began to wonder if his words had actually come out of his mouth as he intended. "What are you doing," Kohl asked, over-enunciating every syllable in a sing-song manner, "after your shift?"

"Oh," Ellsworth said flatly. He took the over-enunciation to be condescension, as if it was his fault for misunderstanding rather than that snooty Argelian accent. In response, he stiffened his spine and raised his chin a little bit.

"I'll go home and make sure Oren is okay. He's sick. They don't know what's wrong with him, but I'm taking care of him. But after that, nothin'." He leaned forward in his chair, which made him seem challenging and slightly combative. Something about Kohl often worked to awaken whatever was in him that longed to struggle for dominance in all the wrong ways, and it showed in his smile and look in his eyes. "What are you doing after your shift?"

"I think," Kohl remarked, "I'm going to spend some time in my quarters. They don't nearly feel like home yet." There was something slightly disjointed about Kohl's response. This was supposed to be simple. The past week had been difficult; it was grinding everyone down. Ellsworth and Kohl had started something, months ago... It wasn't going to be one of life's great romances, but it was something. And Kohl couldn't leave something started unfinished. He had to know.

However, the boldness in asking after Ellsworth's free time had retreated at the mention of Oren. Kohl was concerned by the knowledge that Oren still wasn't feeling well, but he was equally concerned that Ellsworth was the one nursing Oren. He hadn't heard about them taking a second shot at their relationship; he hadn't heard much gossip since transferring out of Sickbay. And so it was with hesitancy that Kohl went on: "My belongings are there. Physical manifestations of nostalgia. But I have no memories there, nothing to make it mine."

"Really? Maybe you should make some memories. Claim the space as your own, sir. They say unique, intense experiences are the best way to make a lasting memory," Ellsworth said, looking bashful and demure as he looked away. "Or so I've heard."

"Would you like to do more than hear?" Kohl suggested, his eyes boring into Ellsworth. He waited until Ells was ready to look at him again. "You should come over. After your shift."

When Ellsworth met Kohl's eyes, he realized he did want to come over after his shift; he realized that he wanted to do more than hear. The young Betazoid wanted to make a lasting impression upon the officer, a firmly implanted and indelible memory. And now that he was looking at him, it only made things worse. In fact, it was hard enough to look away again that he didn't, even though he was feeling slightly ashamed about how easily he was embracing his baser side. He'd only just begun to repair things with Oren and getting wrapped up with Andreus Kohl, of all people, seemed like the last thing that would help, and yet...

"Maybe I should," Ellsworth replied, eyes locked. He swallowed and let his eyes wander indulgently down to the half-opened tunic and beyond. Only as he was about to fall out of it did he realize he'd moved to the edge of his seat and so adjusted to be able to keep the proximity without falling to the floor. The position put a definite strain in his legs, pulled something in his thighs, but he luxuriated in the feeling and derived pleasure from the pain. "I'm sure you're a very entertaining and hospitable host. And I've always been a very appreciative guest."

"What? What are you talking about?" Kohl asked, his words punctuated by an exasperated sigh. His every interaction with Ellsworth had been heightened reality. There was real life, and then with Ellsworth life was like musical theatre. Everything --everyone-- was bright, and bold, and used witty metaphors, and rhyming came spontaneously. Only... today, Kohl's head hurt from lack of sleep, and from whatever-the-hell frustrating arousal was happening with K'os, and from fears he had frittered away too many resources on the impending science team briefing. He didn't have the capacity for musical theatre today. He could hardly even manage compound sentences. "I'm talking about sex," Kohl said.

Hearing the word was like having a heavy hand on the middle of his chest that pressed all the air out of his lungs and set his nerves afire. There was enough of him that wanted it, wanted Kohl, that he had to close his fists and squeeze to keep some control. The hungry look in his eyes was in completely contradiction to what he managed to bring himself to say, "I know. And... No. I can't."

Ellsworth was proud to say that rather than Oren keeping him from it, he kept himself from it. Oren played no small part in it; he knew he couldn't stand to have to tell him that he'd slept with his boss, yes, that boss. But it was far more out of his commitment to be committed - to be honest, to be focused, to be worthy - that he refrained from accepting the offer. Something about it felt inherently wrong, even though it wasn't something that he'd discussed with Oren, so he felt right in denying himself.

All Kohl could manage to say was, "Ohh." And yet there were paragraphs of meaning communicated through that elongated vowel sound. At first, Kohl sounded surprised by Ells' decision; utterly gobsmacked, frankly. The sound evolved into a sense of recognition about Ellsworth's mentioning of Oren earlier, and a sense of understanding about why Ellsworth would refuse. Towards the very end, Kohl even sounded proud of Ellsworth.

Still, this was an unexpected consequence. It was unexpected for Kohl, and Kohl assumed it was unexpected for Ellsworth. Kohl folded his arms over his chest and he leaned forward to get a better look at the slim beauty in the chair opposite him. A critical expression creased Kohl's features, while he studied Ellsworth. It was like the creature before him was some fascinating lab sample on a Petri dish. "Huh..." Kohl intoned.

Finally, Kohl asked, "Are you sure?" There was no hint of flirtation, no application of pressure, in the shape and delivery of Kohl's question. There was only a naked search for understanding about the mechanisms operating inside Ellsworth's head, and his heart.

"No," Ellsworth said honestly. "But, I'm hardly ever sure about anything." He fidgeted in his seat a bit, ran his thumb over the impassive surface of his PADD to give himself something to do. "I'm sorry."

"Don't ever be sorry for saying no," Kohl said. He waited for Ellsworth's eye-contact before he said it and he said those words with a quiet confidence. If he had known Ellsworth, if Kohl had truly known the first thing about Ellsworth, he might of belaboured the point a bit further. He might have questioned more to confirm Ellsworth's understanding and commitment to do so. As it was, Kohl didn't know Ellsworth. He didn't know Ellsworth's struggles; he didn't know that Ellsworth probably could have used a friend a bit like Kohl. And so Kohl just wanted to leave his being rejected in the past, and he moved on.

"Mister Hudson," Kohl said in his formal timbre, "Can we talk about tricorders and their general scarcity...?"

"Uh, right. Yeah! Yeah, sure," Ellsworth said, trying to sound more and more upbeat with each word. Within moments it was a complete transformation, though whether it derived from his mercurial nature, capacity for suppression, or both was unclear.


[OFF]


Lieutenant Commander Andreus Kohl
Chief Science Officer
USS Galileo

PO3 Ellsworth Hudson
Quartermaster
USS Galileo
[ PNPC - Mott ]

 

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