A Personal Encounter - Part One

Posted on Monday September 9th, 2019 @ 1:31am by Lieutenant Commander Canaan Serine & Commodore Gregory Paladin

2,416 words; about a 12 minute read

Mission: Departure and Trial Run
Location: USS Poseidon; Guest Quarters, Deck 3
Timeline: Pre-Poseidon Launch; Pre-Departure; Post-Officer's Meeting

[ON]

Gregory Paladin was nervous. His quarters had been cleaned and made presentable following prior events, the quaint and small space with a living area, dining area, bedroom, and restroom facility was all stuffed into an area comparable to a spartan standard and cleaned thoroughly. The Commodore was sitting in his two-chaired table, gazing out the single window-port out at the Starbase beyond. He had put on some casual clothing, in contrast to his usual professionalism and candor. He wore a pair of pants with loose-fitting shirt and jacket, the jacket itself having the emblem of the Poseidon on the shoulder. He rested his chin on one hand, the hand resting on the table by the elbow. Today was the day he had promised Lieutenant Serine, to meet and conclude the business they started a day or so ago.

He had planned the day out after deciding against more professional pursuits. The Poseidon wasn't expected to leave for a few days yet, so he had time. He concluded that they could try out the ships newly installed holodeck, maybe take a walk in the well-maintained arboretum. In either case, he didn't anticipate them to linger in his quarters.

The door chimed, Gregory almost looking towards it in shock as he was shaken from his stupor. He collected himself, standing to be presentable.

"Come," he stated invitingly.

Paladin had left little doubt to the direction of the relationship forming between them.

[FLASHBACK] "It won't work between us," Gregory said, bluntly, yet with care. "You know that. I can't be a lover, but I can be a friend. I hope you understand."

And Canaan had.

Romantic inexperience did little to dispel any notion this wasn't different, however. Canaan expected their encounter at the gymnasium a singular experience. He reasoned the Commodore did, too, and would allow emotions to settle after their kiss. The older man would find some reason to explain away the experience as a 'heat of the moment' shared between two men in pain.

He'd thought Paladin polite in accepting his offer for a drink, going so far as to open his home to the Lieutenant. Canaan expected the proposal to fade into the background, willfully ignored to maintain some semblance of professionalism between them.

A short time had passed, Canaan and Paladin ghosts to one another, never in the same place at the same time. Even during brief, infrequent visits to the bridge, the Science Officer had yet to see the Commodore. He'd accepted the inevitability of it all.

That was that until it wasn't.

Paladin had reached out, his written message brief.

"Drinks. My quarters. Tonight. -GP"

And so here he was, lingering anxiously outside the door to the Commodore's private suite, gently bouncing on the ball of either heel.

The man's single word reply elicited an unusual reaction, much as it had when they'd kissed. Canaan absentmindedly traced his bottom lip with the tip of a finger, gently biting at the inside of his cheek before stepping forward.

Gregory put his best foot forward, extending both hands out in a clasping and welcoming gesture as he took hold of Canaan's in a display of unconscious comforting and support to what he surmised was an anxious and nervous individual. The act was initiated and concluded briefly, a following gesture of a hand inviting the Lieutenant into his quarters and directing his attention to the Commodore's replicator. Gregory smiled to Canaan, ending the motion of his hand to gesture at the two-seater table he was just sitting at prior to the Lieutenants entry.

"Welcome," greeted Gregory with a large smile, "Replicator is over here and we can sit here," he concluded along with the gesture of his hand. "If you want I can get you something?"

As he stood there, the Commodore took note of the Lieutenant's attire. It was relaxing, similar to that of Gregory's himself. He looked for all the while like someone who was preparing to undergo a short trek in the woods, a relaxing walk, and Gregory took that as a hint that they should probably invest some time in that. The nose ring - how could Gregory avoid missing that? - was a nice touch. It added personality, a flair that Gregory found appealing. He had to remind himself the purpose of the visit as he concluded his observations; friendly and professional.

If the Commodore couldn't feel his hand shaking, Canaan would've been surprised. The Lieutenant was a ball of nerves, although doing his level best to remain outwardly steady. Canaan held onto Paladin's hand, its warmth oddly comforting. Subtly resisting when the man pulled away from the reserved gesture, Canaan slipped hands into the hip pockets of his dark green chinos.

"Thank you, sir." He took several tentative steps into the Commodore's private respite. Canaan's blue-green eyes surveyed the main living space. He found the room's spartan decor in keeping with Starfleet's minimalist design concept while betraying no hint of the man living within its walls. "Whiskey sour?" He asked, more by way of a question.

Canaan needed a sip of something to help take the edge off. Their previous encounter was more natural, perhaps because there were no expectations between them. Canaan couldn't say there were any now, either, but that did little to dispel what happened between them.

Turning his back to the Commodore, Canaan took a calming breath, holding it for several seconds before slowly releasing it. "That's an incredible view." He noted, gesturing to the viewports behind the long couch.

Instead of going to the table, Canaan slid on to the couch, sinking into its soft cushions. He crossed either leg over the other while smoothing a crease from the soft fabric of the black v-neck teeshirt he wore. "I like how you've kept things pretty simple." He complimented, gesturing to the room as a whole. Paladin had been commander of the Poseidon prior to Johnson. Canaan wondered if these had always been his quarters.

The young Lieutenant's attention diverted to the Commodore. So preoccupied with the setting of their rendezvous was Canaan, that he'd not fully appreciated the ruggedly handsome man standing at the replicator. Paladin's dressed-down attire was fitting, complimenting the man's physique nicely. Like Canaan's clothing, Paladin's were muted in color, subdued in earth tones. All except the patch that adorned a shoulder of the jacket Paladin wore. There, the color story of the Poseidon was prevalent, yet not distracting.

Gregory nodded, speaking the request to the replicator as he ordered two shots of whiskey sour. He grabbed both shot glasses, heading over to Canaan by the time he sat on the couch. Midway he gazed out the window port, admiring the view. He stopped, only briefly, before continuing with a smile that seemed to linger on his normally stoic expression. He handed the shot to Canaan, sitting beside him on the couch.

"This was my old quarters a year ago," Gregory said, "I think since the refit the CO's quarters was moved up a deck, so I had the rough half of it. Did you know that back in the day, the Captain and First Officer usually had quarters alongside senior officers? I didn't."

He held up his shot glass to the Lieutenant. "To our health?" he offered for a cheer.

Canaan raised his glass to mirror Paladin's, going so far as to clink the rim of his against the Commodores. "To the 'maybe's,' 'what if's' and 'could be's.'" He added softly before downing the shot. Canaan licked the sweetness of the beverage from his lips as the alcohol warmed his throat and stomach, cheeks, and upper chest reddening. "Thank you!" He said gratefully and with a relieved sort of expression, rolling the empty shot gloss between long fingers.

"No, no, I didn't know that." He agreed, "Modern design elements keep the CO and XO distant from the rest of the crew. A way of discouraging fraternization?" He wondered aloud, the irony not lost on either of them. "Is it weird, being back in these quarters?" Canaan wondered what memories lingered here.

Gregory downed his shot, setting the empty shot glass on the table. He breathed out as he adjusted to the heat of the whiskey, then observed Canaan as he commented. The irony wasn't lost on him, nor was the tremors he felt before when he clasped his hands. This was dangerous; dangerous allowing the Lieutenant here, dangerous drinking those shots, dangerous being this close. For some reason, Gregory didn't care.

He wanted to divert his attention to the simple questions which Canaan presented, but there wasn't much time. They would be departing soon, and with plans already in motion the Commodore wanted to be sure where his feet were planted. With a gentle sigh, he placed a hand on Canaan's shoulder.

"Lieutenant, I brought you here because we need to talk."

With eyes closed, Canaan leaned into Paladin's touch, not oblivious to the undertone in the man's statement. Acutely aware of how the Commodore's fingers pressed tenderly into the tightness of his tense shoulder. He didn't want Paladin to speak the words that were an inevitability. The crew was about to embark on a journey that would take them places neither had been. That was the crux though, especially for Paladin; this was a road less traveled, and here Canaan was, appearing out of a darkness the two shared. Was he complicating or confusing things for Paladin? Were they too much a temptation for each other neither could afford? Why, in the two brief moments they had shared, was there a charge of some unknown force between them? Was this... dangerous?

"Not just to drink?" Canaan sulked with uncertainty, his eyes reopening to lock with those of the Commodores.

Gregory felt the way that Canaan pressed into his touch and, almost instinctively, he leaned his body into Canaan's. His voice was soft as he spoke.

"No, not just to drink," he confirmed with a chuckle. "Sadly. We both know why I called you here. What happened in the gymnasium, remember? Would you mind telling me what you thought about that?"

"I suppose..." Canaan sighed in content when he felt Paladin's sturdy frame melt against his ever so slightly. "I suppose it was a surprise." He finished the thought, mind a bit fuzzy as he shifted closer to the Commodore. "A nice surprise." He added, honestly. "Unexpected. Confusing. Umm..." He hesitated to add the last word resting on the tip of his tongue, thinking it would complicate matters further. "Welcomed." He managed to say above a whisper. "And you?" Canaan wasn't sure he wanted to hear Paladin's answer, knowing it would shift the dynamic between them.

Gregory listened intently. His emotions roiled within him, raging at him for violating his one true tenet after the passing of his wife; to seclude himself into his work. Canaan uncharacteristically offered an escape from that, something so out of the blue to Gregory that it permitted his mind to be at ease. He had decided during the interim between their chanced meetings, from here to then, that Canaan was an opportunity that had presented itself rather unexpectedly. For him to dismiss it, even over the facets of command, would be tantamount of spitting on his own happiness and joy.

"I enjoyed it," he said, truthfully. "It brought me peace. I was deciding at first that it was something of the moment, something to be forgotten."

He left his words to linger, not wanting to add that he wanted to pursue it. He would be, if anything, a proper gentleman about things. He gazed into Canaan's eyes.

"Tell me, Canaan. What do you think we should do?"

The Commodore's eyes were open, truthful, trusting, and willing to follow the advice of the man whom they gazed at. This was a chance for the Lieutenant, and for Gregory. The Commodore offered this up willingly.

Canaan's heartbeat quickened ever so slightly. This was not where he suspected the conversation would lead. They shared a vulnerability, admitting to their fast attraction without percipience. "I-I wouldn't want it to be forgotten," Canaan stated unequivocally. "But I don't want it to complicate or harm your career, either." He added, knowing the words needed to be said, yet surprised it was he who said them. It was essential to accept whatever the consequences that followed their decision to either pursue or end whatever was happening between them. It also wasn't necessary to figure it all out at that moment. Time was a necessity. "I think we have the time to find out what all this means." He said finally, wondering how Paladin would react.

Gregory nodded and, without speaking, gently leaned into Canaan as he entered into a kiss as he closed his eyes. It was a long moment to enjoy the feeling, one hand reaching to cusp the cheek of Canaan. When he finished the kiss, his lips parted, and his eyes bore into those of the Lieutenant's.

"Stay the night," Gregory said, almost pleadingly. "We'll figure out what happens tomorrow."

Canaan was breathless as his gaze held Gregory's, an intensity boiling between them. His head was woozy, enraptured and he couldn't speak, tender lips unable to form words. Instead, the white-haired Lieutenant responded by swinging one leg over Gregory's lap, a knee falling on either side of the Commodore's hips. Looking down, Canaan returned Gregory's gesture, placing a hand against the man's cheeks. Leaning down, Canaan pressed a fervent kiss onto Gregory's wanting lips, each more passionate than the last. Any notion to take things slow and steady was abandoned as they gave in to the carnal, innate desires that had followed from their first meeting.

Gregory submitted himself to the feelings that had been repressed from their first encounter in the Gymnasium. The night was long and passionate. The future, though uncertain, seemed just a bit more clear to the troubled man. As their rapture endured, he hoped the same would be true for Canaan as well. Two brothers in arms, two completely different wars, chanced a meeting on a ship with its own scars of battle. All scars, in the end, heal in their own unique ways. They also bore fruit to new futures, one which Gregory was optimistic in pursuing.

The night waned on.

[OFF]

"I'm convinced that different people awaken different beasts in you."

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