Hard Won

Warnings: Bev bashing, Riker bashing, and phantom energy organs.



Note: A few canon details have been conveniently misplaced. *cough* literary license *cough*









At first, Q had decided to stay away for as long as he could stand. Let the man wake in the middle of the night cold and alone. Let him cry out, "Q! Q! Where are you? I'm sorry! Q!" Let him curse himself for his cowardice and his pride. But the man hadn't done those things. Instead, he had carried on as he would have had Q not decided to visit him that night two weeks ago. Better, perhaps, as his mind was clearer and sharper. The release of all of that long-felt, deeply ingrained tension had done wonders for him. Q had done wonders for him. Yet still he stubbornly refused to summon the entity to his bed again.



Q knew he refused because Q watched him. In fact, after two excruciating days of absence to satisfy his ego, the immortal entity had returned to the Starship Enterprise sure that he would find the object of his affection deep in the throes of regret and desperate for the opportunity to redeem himself. But Q had known, deep down, that the man would not be neglecting his oh-so-important responsibilities to wallow in his loneliness.



//No, that's my job,// the entity thought bitterly.



Q had watched the man preparing for work in the morning; he rose eas was washed and dressed himself efficiently. Q had imagined a lingering glance toward the empty bed, a slight hesitation as he crossed the threshold into the corridor that joined his quarters with the rest of the ship. How could the man go on that way? How could he conduct complex negotiations with renewed vibrancy and determination, all the while knowing that he had given up the love of a god-like immortal? //And a witty god-like immortal at that.// But what had he really given up? The man was shrewd -- //For a primate// -- and he must know that Q was nearby, watching, waiting. Really, Q had to admit, the man had every reason to think that time was on his side. What were two weeks to a Q? Fine. Let the man run over every possibility in his tiny human brain. Let him pacify his sense of duty by wrapping up the little sandbox dispute he was mediating before he concentrated on his private life. Fine. What were two weeks to a Q?





The Q energy in the man's bedroom wavered with pensive indecision, just outside the possible perception of anyone who might enter. Q had retreated to the strange comfort of the man's quarters after growing weary of listening to the hairy ape drone on about the terms of the Drol armistice. The hairy ape's only redeeming quality, Q thought, was how highly he esteemed the man; the creature had some taste, it seemed, despite the fact that he had caught many a glimpse in the mirror of the little animal on his face and still considered himself presentable. That was more than Q could say for the blue ape. Certainly she esteemed the man as highly as did the hairy ape, but somehow that didn't make up for the annoying way she was always trying to convince the man of things -- like that they ought to be more than friends, or they ought to break a bunch of ridiculous Starfleet rules. //Maybe we have more in common than I thought, Bev. I still can't wait to see your face when you find out Jack was fucking Jean-Luc's sweet ass for years before they met you. Speaking of Jean-Luc, he's too nice to tell you that shoulder pads went out with the twentieth century, but I'm not.//



Warm blotches of yellow rippled mirthfully through the Q energy as it stretched out across the man's bedroom, covering every surface. The energy pulsed a bit, too, to the soft cadence of the ship's engines. When he was like this, Q could feel every footstep of every crewmember on the ship, though he found it most enjoyable to concentrate on the man's footsteps. If the man spoke, no matter where he was, Q could feel the vibrations of his silky baritone. Disconcertingly, Q found that the pleasure of the man's voice as experienced through the ship's construction was nothing compared to the pleasure he had felt in the man's arms, inside the man's body. Though Q had been aware of his desire to engage the man physically for some time, he had only partially overcome the revulsion and terror that accompanied it.



At the beginning, he had seriously considered the possibility that he had simply gone insane. It certainly wasn’t out of the question for a Q to do such a thing with a far lesser species; a combination of curiosity and boredom had compelled many a Q to reach many a behavioral low. The problem had been, though, that Q had never even considered 'copulating with a human', as the man had so dryly put it, prior to the development of this ridiculous obsession. Q's desire, and even the eventual fulfillment of that desire, had been largely concerned with the man, the man's pleasure, and, for a brief puff of time, being the same as the man. How could Q justify expending so much time and energy on considering, fantasizing about, and planning such a base and ultimately useless act? As much as he might have wanted to color the activity as pure sensuality or experimentation, Q had never been able to hide the truth from himself. He loved the man, and he wanted to love the man the way the man wanted to be loved. Beyond that, he wanted the man to love him that way, too. Somewhere at the edge of his vast consciousness, Q continued to entertain a hope that someday the man would want to love Q the way Q wanted to be loved -- all sparks of energy and raw emotions, memories and deep, unknowable truths -- and want Q to love him that way. Then they would truly be the same.



And so he had feared insanity. No Q had ever died of 'natural causes', but occasionally one did go insane and manage to destroy itself. If there was ever a reason to go insane and destroy oneself, Q had thought, prolonged desperation for intimacy with a human was as good as any. Unfortunately, Q's predicament had not been so simple. More and more as he had watched the man going about his human life, Q's respect for the man had grown, and so his own self-loathing had lessened. The man was worth his time and attention, and all of the jibes and jeers of the Continuum couldn't obscure that fact any longer. They were just bitter that the man had beaten them at their own game and jealous that Q had found something to assuage his ennui. Q had basked in smug superiority over that idea for all of a day before he set off to try and win the man's heart. Patiently he had waited and watched, looking for just the right opportunity and trying toide ide just the right angle from which to approach his intended. Q was clever and semi-omnipotent, and so his first volley had been both well-timed and well-executed, considering the volatile nature of their relationship up to that point. But it hadn't produced the results he had expected. Without fully realizing it, Q had begun the encounter assuming that he would have the upper hand. He was, after all, a Q. The urgency of his feelings, though, and the man's glowing, potent inner strength had sent the situation in a direction Q had not been not prepared to go. How absurd to be at the emotional mercy of a human! How absurd to cry human tears and slobber human love words! Yet Q had done those things and more, and, as time went by and his indignation dulled, he found that he would welcome the opportunity to do them again.



Swirls of brilliant purple infused the Q energy as the man entered his bedroom. Mentally, Q berated himself for the way his being trembled with anticipation at the proximity of his beloved. The man had only come to sleep, after all, as he had done every evening for the last two weeks. He would not call out his regret or toss and turn, bemoaning his solitude. Q would watch him anyway. There was always the hope that the man might come to some new conclusion -- he did have a way of being so unexpectedly flexible, sometimes -- and if he didn't, Q would enjoy witnessing his vulnerability iconsconsciousness.



It was always difficult for Q to thwart his instinct to read the man's mind, but when the man finished showering and went to sit on naked on the foot of his bed, Q almost forgot himself. In all the nights that Q had watched him, the man had never neglected to slip quickly into his pajamas as soon as he had washed himself. He seemed to act as though Q couldn't see him while he was in the bathroom, and so Q deliberately avoided doing so. Everything he had said to the man that night two weeks ago, a second ago, a lifetime ago, would be made worthless if he refused the man his privacy. The irony of the fact that the man could expect to be on display every second he was elsewhere in his quarters, to say nothing of when he was on duty, did not occur to Q. The entity was used to seeing what he wanted to see when he wanted to see it, and so the man, should he ever learn of Q's restraint, ought to be as touched by it as Q was to employ it. It was a gift Q gave the man that could not be refused or given back in scorn.



The man dangled his legs comfortably off the edge of the bed and shifted, smiling calmly, apparently at nothing. Q pulsed more quickly and his ethereal embodiment altered, becoming redder.



"Q," the man said. Q started at the sound of his own name and drew himself away from the wall. Surrounding the man but keeping his distance, Q shivered in a dithering, imperceptible accumulation of energy. The man's gaze grew thoughtful and drifted briefly to his folded hands before roaming out, covering much of the small bedroom in a slow sweep as he seemed to focus on something beyond the edge of his senses. The cocoon of energy that was Q expanded smoothly to make absolutely sure of avoiding the man's detection, even as it reveled in the attention paid to it. On impulse, Q darted a wisp of himself out to tap the man's mind and then retreated, watching anxiously. The man smiled again, softly, and touched the back of his neck. His expression sobered but his eyes remained warm as he spoke again. "I've done a lot of thinking. I know what you want, and I think that we both know I'm not ready to give it to you, if I ever will be. There is, however, something I would very much like to give you. I care for you a great deal, Q, and I hope my gift pleases you." Q quivered around the man, thorny green tendrils of disappointment twining antagonistically with joyful pink splotches. The man had been thinking of Q and now he had a present for him! What could it be? What could it be?



The man lay back slowly, using a heel to shift himself higher on the bed. Smiling languidly at nothing, he spread his legs comfortably and drew lazy fingertips across his own ribs, down, over a firm thigh sprinkled with gray-black hair. Q watched him raptly, from all angles and varying distances. The dark, feathery down across the man's buttocks, the compact muscles discreetly visible under soft skin, and the dreamy affection spread over the man's aquiline features made Q all but forget about the man's honest admission of doubt as to whether he would ever return the entity's love. The man continued to caress himself, sighing softly as his fingertips trailed over a perfect pale nipple, which hardened even as he touched it. As Q began to understand the nature of the man's gift to him he shivered happily and steeled himself to resist the urge to interfere. The man was so lovely laying that way, unashamed as he offered his nakedness and his pleasure to Q. //And I've been inside him, heard him beg for more, watched his face while he came.// When Q shivered again, the faintest echo of that reaction rippled through the sobodybody on the bed. The man's fingers were pinching his nipples, now, and pulling in gentle staccato bursts as his head tilted back into the bedding beneath him. He opened his mouth, his warm and increasingly hazy eyes staring out at nothing in particular, and at first it seemed his cry of pleasure had been a silent one. //So restrained. So beautiful. So unlike me,// Q thought. Then, as Q listened, the softest, most delicate moan the entity had heard in the whole of his unfathomably long life rumbled up from the man's throat. The Q energy in the small room vibrated briefly as Q gathered himself, redoubling the effort he put into allowing the man to continue undisturbed. It was fortunate that Q was concentrating on containing himself at that moment, because when the man slipped one hand down to cup his growing erection as he breathed the entity's name, Q nearly lurched forward and enveloped



"Q… do you know… for a long time I used to think of… Jack on the rare occasions that I indulged in this sort of thing." The man's voice already deep voice had grown husky and thick. He massaged himself gingerly, without urgency, seeming to enjoy the silky texture of his own skin. "I think I might have done it… more often, if I'd somesomeone else to think of… I always felt guilty for thinking of Jack after… ahh… everything that had happened." The Q energy hunched over on itself, burnt dots of uncertainty cropping up here and there across the pattern. //Everything makes him feel guilty, even things he has no control over… and why does he want to talk about that now? Ohhh, but he's touching himself… and he's doing it for me...// The man seemed to be content, though, and his arousal increased with every languid stroke of his cock. Q relaxed and focused on listening. "But I'm not… thinking of Jack now, Q…" The man's eyelids drooped and his hips had begun a subtle, seductive undulation. Q prickled all over with anticipation. "Do you… ohhh… Do you know… who I'm thinking of?" Groaning softly, the man thumbed the head of his cock, spreading what liquid had leaked there across the sensitive underside. Q struggled harder to maintain control, full of the man from every angle, wanting more than anything to touch him and to be with him in a tangible way, wanting more than anything to be the source of his pleasure. "I'm thinking of… you," the man breathed, bending his knees further. Brilliant pink ecstasy splashed across the Q energy, chased quickly by a deep red lust that bled out from the center. //Jean-Luc…// Oblivious but nonetheless concordant, the man thrust into his own fist in long, deliberate strokes, his jaw tightening as delicious tension took hold of his body. So slowly that he could only have been teasing himself as well as Q, the man pressed two fingers past his thin, chiseled lips and into the warmth of his mouth. When the man's cheeks hollowed and a muffled moan emitted from around those penetrating digits, Q shuddered violently and some part of his diligent control snapped.



Formed from Q's longing, without forethought or design, a thick tendril of energy slipped away from the rest of the mass and pressed insistently at the opening of the man's body. As soon as he realized what he had done, though, Q froze, fearing that the man might be shocked or angry. Instead, and to Q's infinite relief, the man arched and spread his legs wider in mindless encouragement. Q recovered quickly, and was soon dripping with hot red lust, ecstatic about new new, more active role in the man's pleasure. //I don’t want him to think I don't love him this time,// Q thought wickedly as he plunged the energy tendril forward, penetrating the man completely in one long, steady push. With an urgent moan strangled by his own fingers, the man writhed back into the bed, his breath coming in chokes and puffs through his nose. Q drew the tendril back until only its tip remained inside and then thrust it in again, harder. Shuddering and nearly rolling onto his side in uncontrolled elation, the man clamped one hand hard around the base of his cock and jerked the other out of his mouth with a gasp.



"Wait…" he choked. "Wait, wait." Startled, Q stilled the tendril within him and watched carefully. The man took a moment to steady his breathing, and Q was relieved and intrigued to see that his open mouth curved up at the corners. //What has he got planned, I wonder?// Carefully and without relinquishing the strong grip he had on his erection, the man slithered onto his stomach and raised his hips, whimpering when the tender, weeping head of his cock brushed against the sheets. At the sight of that powerful, passionate being opening for him, wallowing unabashedly in his lust for him, Q lost control. "I want it like… ohhhhh, Q…" Without deciding to and without transition of any kind, Q had embodied himself, his painfully, destelytely hard human cock taking the place of the energy tendril inside Jean-Luc's ass. The man perceived the change instantly and sank back against him, his muscular thighs trembling and sweating.



"Do you… have any idea… what you look like?" Q growled, nearly scowling with the intensity of his lust as he thrust himself again and again into the tightness and heat that was Jean-Luc. Groaning, the man abandoned his upper body, letting it jerk and shift on the bed with the force of their rhythm, and his legs spread wider to allow Q to penetrate him more deeply. This time, Q wasn't going to hold back. He wasn't going to disappoint Jean-Luc. As he clamped his hands around the man's grinding hips, grunting with the effort of his labors, he got a wicked idea that nearly made him come on the spot. "Jean-Luc?" he purred throatily. The man moaned in reply, shifting onto one elbow and using a handful of sheet to thrust back harder. "Jean-Luc, open your mouth." Q heard the man moan again, louder this time, and gave him a moment to comply, using the time to gaze admiringly at the way Jean-Luc's muscles stood out in sharp relief now, quivering beneath sweat-slicked skin. Telling himself that there would be time for it later, Q pushed away a fantasy of licking every drop of sweat from the man's body and returned to the task at hand.



Tilting his head back and dividing out a small part of his consciousness from the rest, Q visualized the energy cock he had used to fuck Jean-Luc. When the tip of his human cock made particularly rough contact with the man's prostate, though, Jean-Luc's inner muscles spasmed as his body quaked, and the entity momentarily lost his concentration. Q panted roughly and slowed his thrusts just enough to allow him proper mental control. Ignoring the man's desperate cry of disappointment, he again visualized the energy cock. Once he had it firmly constructed in the allottedt oft of his consciousness, he embodied it, separate from himself. Q gave Jean-Luc only a fraction of a second to see the phantom organ before thrusting it into his obediently open mouth. The man's body arched and shook violently as he emitted a strangled, gurgling groan, and Q lurched forward with the force of his own delight at the reaction, clamping a hand under Jean-Luc's sweaty chest. Fearing that the pleasure, in conjunction with the split of his attention, might drive him insane any second, Q pounded the man desperately from both directions. He struggled valiantly to maintain anything that might resemble a rhythm, but Jean-Luc shuddered and writhed so helplessly under the dual assault that none could be effectively established. Q hugged the man more tightly against him, restraining him so that all he could do was tremble and whimper. And then he heard it; somewhere, distantly, there was a buzz at the edge of Q's consciousness. Afraid that if he concentrated too hard he might tear himself into three pieces permanently, and yet more concerned about succumbing too early to the hot, delicious friction of Jean-Luc's body, he opened his mind and listened harder.



//"…please…come…make…my…please…"//



//Jean-Luc? Is that you?// Q shuddered at the prickly pleasure the distant voice brought to his mind, dimly aware that the man beneath him was moaning steadily now, his lustful sounds made indistinct by the cock in his mouth. Reaching out toward the voice with his mind, Q tried to draw it nearer.



//"…please…mouth…Q… I want it to come in my mouth, please, please make it come in my mouth, please, Q, please…"//



Q convulsed, crying out with his mind and emptying his human lungs of breath as he pumped himself, hot and liquid, into the man's body and over his tongue. Jean-Luc's back hollowed and his muscles pulled taut for one heartbeat, then another, and then one more before he spasmed violently, pinned between Q and the bed and splattering the sheets below. His human cock still buried to the hilt in groping warmth, Q rode the man's orgasmic wave and reveled in his frantic, smothered cries until Jean-Luc collapsed, trembling and unconscious.