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mokuyoubiΥ
Brendon looked around himself in surprise, assessing the situation. He was back in his uniform, as was Dax, though the rest of them were wearing the same clothes they had been on the station. There was a weight in his pocket and when he slipped his hand inside, he felt the jagged edges of the bat pin Pete had given him, and something else, a bottle, smooth and—dear god, tell him Pete didn’t put lube in his pocket. But he had other things to worry about.
“Ensign Urie.” Sisko’s voice boomed across Operations. He didn’t sound angry, exactly, but it wasn’t a happy sound, either.
They moved as one toward his office, and as they stepped inside, Dax prevented further berating by stepping out of the crowd and rushing towards him, exclaiming, “Benjamin!”
Commander Sisko’s face split in a huge smile. He swept Dax into a hug, which was like, really inappropriate, but Brendon had heard rumours about them, and no one seemed to care, like it was old hat. “Old man!” Sisko greeted her, almost rapturously. “Good to have you back.” Brendon had only met the guy once, but this was such a dramatic change, he didn’t know what to make of it. He couldn’t quite reconcile serious, stern, forbidding Sisko with happy, hugging, sweet Sisko.
“Is Brendon there?” A cold, heavy feeling settled in the pit of Brendon’s stomach at the sound of his mother’s voice.
“Mom,” Brendon said. Sisko gestured for him to step behind the desk. His parents came into view on the screen. His mother made a sound of relief and his father’s shoulders slumped a little. He supposed that should have made him feel good, that they’d been worried, but all he could hear was what he knew would come, when they waved him in private, demanding to know how he could have been so careless, how he could have let himself be taken.
“Thank god,” his father muttered.
“I’ll take it this means you have those Bajorans who took him then, too,” His mother said, addressing Odo.
“Admiral Urie,” Odo said, sounding put-upon, “We have yet to find any concrete evidence that they were involved in—”
“Those Bajorans,” Brendon repeated. He knew Odo and Dax and Sisko were watching. He knew he should shut up and leave this ‘til later. Indignant anger was building up in his chest, replacing the anxiety.
“Those Bajorans?” he demanded. “Those Bajorans are my boyfriends, and the only ones who came after me!” he shouted. Then with a sheepish look at Jon, added, “And Jon. He’s our boyfriend too, and he came after me, only he isn’t Bajoran.” He shook his head. “But that’s beside the point.”
Sisko and Odo looked shell-shocked, but it was nothing compared to the matching expressions of mingled horror and anger on his parents’ faces. Suddenly, Brendon wished they’d come up with some sort of cover story for what had happened before they got back. Now, standing in front of his parents and his commanding officers, he couldn’t think, let along formulate a complex lie.
Again, Dax came to the rescue, sweeping to Brendon’s side. She had this way of pitching her voice that was soothing without sounding condescending, and Brendon saw the looks of awe catch from Jon to Spencer to Ryan as she spoke. She wove an intricate story about Changelings and the Vorta and a Q, that, while believable, resembled the truth only in that it included the same species. Also, she’d apparently spoken to Pete or someone about it before leaving, because she had information about the Changeling that they hadn’t had before, which leant credibility to the story.
Brendon knew his parents. He could tell that his mother’s blinking stare and his father’s frown meant that they believed it. He let out a shaky sigh, and smiled hesitantly at his…boyfriends sounded silly, even though he’d used it. Lovers…well, yes, but that didn’t sound right, either. He’d have to figure it out. But he smiled at them and they smiled back, even Ryan, and Brendon figured that meant he’d done something right.
“Brendon,” his father said, and sounded worn out and weary. “Is that the truth?”
Brendon felt insulted on Dax’s behalf, even though he knew she was lying. He nodded his head fervently. He knew better than to try to add anything or put his own spin on it, because then it would go from being vaguely weird but mostly believable to downright ridiculous.
“Commander Sisko,” his mother said, putting on her admiral voice, “may we please have a moment alone with Ensign Urie?” Brendon fought the urge to cringe. That would just give them more ammo.
Sisko graciously acceded and Odo and Dax went with him. His…Jon, Spencer and Ryan moved to go as well, but he held up a hand to stop them. Ryan looked uncomfortable but Spencer kept him in place with an arm snug around his waist and Jon touched his arm in that way he had that just made everything seem so much better.
“What,” his mother asked, “is this nonsense about you having…having…boyfriends.” She spat out the last word like it was something poisonous to her.
“I really don’t see what that has to do with anything,” Brendon said. He crossed his arms over his chest and tried to look closed off. He was afraid he just looked like a scared little boy.
“We’re not Andorians, Brendon,” his mother said. The way she said it, god. Brendon thought it was laughable sometimes, how his parents put on this good show for everyone else about how they fit into the perfect Starfleet mould, but they could be really close-minded and bigoted about cultures that didn’t mesh with their set of values.
“Andorians have to have four people in their marriage because they have four sexes and they need all four to reproduce,” Brendon said through clenched teeth.
His mother looked harassed. “Bolian, then. Humans do not have plural relationships.”
“Yeah, well, this Human does. I really don’t see why we’re talking about this; I was just kidnapped.” He knew, knew that it was a lost cause, but the part of him that was still an insecure kid wanted them to show concern, ask him if he was okay.
“Yes,” his father said scathingly. “Let’s get back to the part where you managed to get yourself kidnapped and had to have a senior officer come to your rescue after less than a week on your first assignment.”
“Wait,” Jon said. “Wait, you’re trying to make it sound like this is his fault?” Brendon had never heard Jon sound so serious or angry. Jon was Laid Back Guy, not Face Twisted Up With Rage Guy.
“Who is that?” his mother demanded.
“It’s Jon,” Brendon said. He held out his hand and Jon stepped around the desk to take it, glaring at the screen.
His mother gave Jon an icy look. “I thought we asked everyone to leave.”
“You asked the military in the room to leave. Because, let’s face it Admiral, this isn’t really an official dressing-down. You don’t have anything you can reprimand me about, because according to the Federation, I haven’t done anything wrong. It’s only your screwed up logic, Jesus.” Brendon was breathing heavily, but Jon was squeezing his hand tightly. It made him feel a little better.
“Don’t you take that tone with us,” his father started warningly.
“Whatever.” Brendon was disgusted, and embarrassed that Spencer and Ryan and Jon were seeing this. “I’m fine, and that’s about the end of your involvement in this, because the extent of your involvement is that I’m your son, and right now, I don’t really care about that. So why don’t you leave this to Commander Sisko and Constable Odo and I’ll try not to do anything really inconvenient and embarrassing, like die.”
He pushed the button to end the transmission before they could respond, jabbing so hard it sort of hurt his finger. “Ow.” He was pouting, he knew, and sounded like a sullen kid, but Spencer and Ryan came around the desk, too, Spencer squeezing his shoulder, Ryan running a stroking hand over his hair. He wanted to hug them and just hold on, but the walls of the office were glass, and Sisko and Odo were just standing right outside. Everyone in Ops could see them.
“Hey, guys, I’ve got to…” he gestured outside.
Spencer grimaced. “Me, too.”
Brendon caught Sisko’s gaze, gave him a nod to let him know they’d finished. He and Odo came in together. Sisko looked distantly amused, but Odo was hard to read. He crossed his arms over his chest. “Do you want to try to giving me your version of events, Mister Smith?” he asked.
“I know I shouldn’t have helped break Ryan out,” Spencer said evenly. “But we had to get Brendon back. I’ll take whatever punishment you give.”
“It’s my fault,” Ryan interrupted. “I could have been more forthcoming about what happened between me and Brendon. Spencer was just helping.”
Jon rolled his eyes. “Whatever. I was the one who took Spencer to the Helena.”
Sisko made a sound suspiciously like a chuckle, but when Brendon looked over, his face was smooth and serious. “As the only Starfleet officer present during Mister Ross’ departure from the station, Lieutenant Dax has taken complete responsibility for his escape, and explained the necessity of the situation,” he said.
Spencer looked at Odo, as if waiting for the axe to fall. He eyed Spencer and made a grumbling sound. “Since Mister Ross wasn’t involved in Ensign Urie’s disappearance, and seeing as everyone has made it back to the station unharmed, I suppose I can pretend you were just doing your job.”
Brendon didn’t know Odo, like, at all. He’d seen him twice before since coming to the station. And it was hard to tell. He wasn’t like William—he either hadn’t mastered his ability, or he didn’t care, but his face was smooth, incapable of much expression. Still, despite his tone, Brendon got the idea that he might have been teasing. Spencer’s smile, sharp and bright, confirmed it.
“I believe temporary desk duty will be sufficient,” he concluded, and Spencer said, “Yes sir,” through his grin.
“Mister Ross, Mister Smith.” Sisko shook each of their hands as he addressed them. “Mister…”
“Walker,” Jon said, shaking his hand and smiling wide. “Jon Walker.”
“Mister Walker,” Sisko finished, with an answering smile. “I’d like to thank you all for bringing Ensign Urie back to us safely.” It was a dismissal and they seemed to understand that. Ryan cast a look at Brendon like he didn’t want to leave, and Brendon just gave him a reassuring smile. They and Odo left, the doors sliding shut after them.
“I suppose most of the details of your kidnapping are best left untold, if Dax’s story was any indication,” Sisko said. He had this knowing smirk that told Brendon he hadn’t bought a word of Dax’s story. “However, this connection you have in the Gamma Quadrant and his information on the situation there could be vital right now. Dax said something about a communication device?”
Brendon fingered the bat-jewel in his pocket and nodded his head. He wondered what else Dax had said to Sisko while he was talking to his parents and hoped none of it was too embarrassing. “And you’ll be reporting any pertinent information you receive on the Dominion as you receive it.”
It wasn’t even a question. “Of course, sir!” he exclaimed. He could read between the lines. Sisko was willing to look the other way about weird not-quite kidnappings and the breaking out of prisoners as long as it benefited the greater good. It was one of the reasons that he was pretty sure Ryan could eventually come to like Sisko, because Sisko really cared about people, the Bajorans in particular. He cared about them a lot more than he worried about rules and regulations.
“Good job, by the way, Ensign,” Sisko said.
“But, Commander, I was kidnapped,” Brendon protested.
Sisko smiled. “Keep it up and you might be looking at a promotion sometime soon. Now, go take the rest of the day off; you’re expected to return to duty tomorrow morning at 0700 hours. Lieutenant Dax and I would like to discuss a project with you.”
Brendon turned to go, but paused at the door. “Sir,” he said, and this was probably crossing the line, but he was really curious. “Lieutenant Dax…she calls you…” Even saying it made him feel like he was committing insubordination, so he just grazed over the name and went on, “and you called her Old Man…”
He looked, but Sisko didn’t look angry. He had an almost goofy smile on his face. “You’ll have to ask Lieutenant Dax about her previous host sometime,” was all he said, then, “Dismissed.”
When the lift lowered him to the Promenade level, he expected for them to be waiting for him and was a little disappointed that they weren’t. Then, across the Promenade he caught sight of them, outside Ryan’s shop, where two older Bajorans, a man and a woman, were speaking to them.
Brendon hurried over and when Spencer saw him, his face lit up. “Mom, Dad, this is Brendon.” He was swept up in a hug by Spencer’s mother before he had a chance to process the introduction.
“Wha—” Brendon began, but Spencer just shook his head, so Brendon stopped fighting it.
“We came as soon as we heard,” she said, and released him. “From Brent, I might add.” She looked testily at her son.
“We were kind of in a hurry, Mom,” Spencer said. He looked fond and exasperated and slightly pink in the cheeks.
“Brendon, I’m glad to meet you,” she said. “I’m Ginger.”
“Spencer,” Spencer’s father said, nodding, and Brendon decided he was just going to think of him as Mister Smith to avoid the confusion of having to address two people by the same name.
Ginger looked around at all of them then, and between the appraisal in her eyes and the way she’d hugged him, Brendon got the idea that maybe she knew about them. It was a little embarrassing, not because he was the sort of person to be embarrassed by it, but because she was Spencer’s mom and it was weird to think of her knowing about them like that.
“Ginger was about to tell me a funny story about Ryan and Spencer when they were twelve,” Jon said, eyes sparkling.
“No, she really wasn’t,” Spencer said.
“We thought we could look after the shop for a few days, give you a chance to rest,” she said to Ryan. She soothed his hair down as if he were her son, too, and Brendon guessed, from what Ryan had told them, that he was like a son to her.
“Of course,” Spencer snorted. “Poor Ryan needs a break from the jewellery store while I take the punishment for breaking him out.” Ryan punched him in the arm. It was intriguing, watching them interact like this, especially now that he’d seen them together in bed. Weird, almost, how they were such close friends that they seemed like brothers, especially at a time like this, but how they worked as lovers, too.
“Maybe we should let the boys rest now,” Mr. Smith said, and the humour in his tone confirmed that Spencer’s parents totally knew.
“Actually, I’m feeling okay,” Jon said. Brendon nodded. Maybe embarrassing stories were out (for now), but he’d still like to get to know the people who’d raised Spencer and Ryan. Especially since they were so doing this foursome thing. Obviously, his parents weren’t down with it, but Spencer’s weren’t yelling at them or insulting them, so that seemed like a good start.
They had eaten just before they’d come, and Spencer’s parents weren’t hungry, so they ended up just hanging out in the jewellery shop. Jon and the two Spencers started up a conversation about politics which was intriguing, but Ryan and Ginger had gone over to the display case and were discussing Ryan’s new designs, and Brendon had wanted to hear more about that since he’d first seen the shop.
Brendon approached them and Ryan smiled a little shyly, maybe remembering the last time they’d been here together. Brendon was acutely aware of the fact that when Pete had sent them back, he’d put Brendon back in his uniform. “Going to bend your rule for me?” he asked gently.
Ryan’s smile wavered, then turned down at the corners. “I should probably take that sign down, anyway,” he said. “No one pays any attention. Brendon.”
“I was just teasing,” Brendon hurried to assure him. “Hey. Show me your designs, too.”
“Brendon knows all about the D’jarra,” Ryan said to Ginger. “Probably more than most Bajoran kids, these days.”
“Oh?” Ginger arched a brow at him.
Brendon shrugged. “I dunno. We learned a lot of cultural stuff at the Academy. I know a lot about a lot of cultures.” He hated it when people made a big deal about him knowing stuff. It should have felt good, but with his parents, nothing was good enough, and he’d got used to talking his achievements down instead of up.
“Show me your designs,” he repeated, trying to divert attention.
Ryan got it. He stretched his lips in a thin line, like he didn’t approve, but he didn’t press the issue any further. He drew out a tray of black velvet from the case, the bands of latinum and silver sparkling against the contrast. “These are some designs I’ve been putting together to represent the traditional D’jarra while incorporating new careers and lifestyles, fashioned after the original concept of castes.
“For example, this one…” He fished around in a drawer below his workstation and pulled out a long slender box. The earring inside shone bright silver. It was simpler than Ryan’s dangling, elaborate earring. Streamlined. Just the post of the earring, the cuff, and the chain between them and no more. “This one I made for Spencer. This,” he indicated the post—a simple flower with six petals with a single small diamond in the centre and even smaller chips of blue stone at the points, “indicates his original caste, Ih’valla. However this,” he traced his small finger along the pattern that trimmed the edge of the cuff; it looked like a highly stylised version of Bajoran writing. “This indicates the Ke’lora.”
“Lawmen,” Brendon said and Ginger gave him a smile. He never would have thought of it, but it was perfect.
Ryan shrugged. “I don’t even know if anyone will be interested. A lot of people grow attached to their earrings; besides, I can’t anticipate of which caste one was and to which they would now belong, so these are just examples. But I could make adjustments to current pieces as well, if someone wanted to keep their earring.”
Ginger hugged him with one arm, tucking him against her. “It’s lovely, Ryan. I think you underestimate how well it will be taken, too. Without the castes we’re all trying to find our places, all over again.”
Ryan flushed, like he was unused to praise. He had so much in common with Brendon, for being so incredibly different. “Can…can other people. Other than Bajorans. Can other people wear them?” He didn’t look at Ryan, afraid of what he might see.
There was a long silence, almost painful. Then Ginger saved them from further awkwardness by saying, “Generally, outsiders do no wear our earrings, as they were not part of the caste system. They can, of course, purchase them if they desire, but publicly displaying them can be seen as insulting. The exception is aliens who marry into Bajoran families. If one has a Bajoran spouse, it is acceptable to wear an earring that represents the caste or family into which they have married.”
Inexplicably, that made Brendon’s eyes sting. He knew it was stupid, he knew this was going to take work and Bajorans weren’t exactly trusting of strangers, and he knew Ryan in particular had issues with Humans and Starfleet and all of that. But all the same, it hurt that he couldn’t be a part of this, which was what Ryan did for a living, what he enjoyed doing, what he was good at doing. It was something that he and Spencer could share that Jon and Brendon couldn’t.
Ryan changed the subject quickly, showing them some other things on which he’d been working. Perhaps it was pointed, to show Brendon that there were other things—he showed them rings and necklaces and bracelets and broaches, dropping comments about how they were popular with many different species.
There was one ring in particular that caught Brendon’s eye, a spiral of dull gold with a small star at one end of the spiral, and a crescent moon at the other. When he mentioned his like for it, Ryan immediately took it out and slid it on his finger. Brendon wasn’t sure if Ryan knew the significance of the placement according to Human tradition, because he put it on Brendon’s wedding finger.
Brendon almost wanted to refuse it because, well, it was a little desperate of Ryan, saying ‘no, you can’t be a part of what I do, but here’s a consolation prize.’ Only Ryan was clearly trying to please him, to show him something, and Brendon didn’t want to hurt him. They had to learn how to make this work without hurting each other. So he left it there, and maybe he liked the feel of it, even if it wasn’t the same as an earring.
They eventually made their way into the back room. Spencer had made tea and they’d moved on from discussing politics to a play Ginger and Mister Smith had seen recently on Bajor. Spencer and Jon were sitting close together on the small sofa and Ginger took the only chair besides the one Mister Smith was already sitting on. Brendon vacillated for a second before Spencer reached out and grabbed his hips. He tugged him over, putting Brendon half in his lap, half in Jon’s. Ryan, smirking at him, perched more daintily on Spencer’s other knee. The Smiths didn’t even flinch.
“You showing them my earring?” Spencer asked.
Ryan nodded. “It’s really nice,” Brendon said.
“Yeah? So when do I get it?” Spencer traced little circles on the small of Brendon’s back in an absent way. It made Brendon want to stretch and purr and stay in Spencer’s lap forever.
“It’s still missing a few touches,” Ryan said, vague and enigmatic.
“Brendon,” Mister Smith said, “Spencer tells me you’re learning to play the belaklavion.”
“Oh,” Brendon started, fidgeting and looking down at his hands. “I was just messing a—” Spencer pinched his hip and Jon laid a hand over his, stopping his restless movements.
“He’s really good,” Ryan said earnestly, eyes wide. “I mean, he plays it better than some people who’ve studied it, for, like, years. He just picked it up and started doing stuff, new stuff, before I even showed him anything.”
“It’s not a big deal,” Brendon protested. “I learned how to play guitar when I was young. It’s similar, you know. I was just applying the same principle.”
Ginger gave him that same assessing look she’d given them all before. “You should play something. You and Ryan, together.”
He tried to protest again, but Ryan would hear none of it. They went together back to Ryan’s quarters, and that got them more than a few weird looks. Apparently Ryan’s dislike of Starfleet was well known, and seeing him walk down the Promenade with an arm around Spencer’s waist and his hand in Brendon’s raised some questions. Mutters followed them all the way, but Brendon didn’t particularly care what they thought, and Ryan held his head high like he didn’t notice.
Ryan kept several instruments from Bajor. In addition to the belaklavion, he had another two stringed instruments, three different air instruments and a small percussion instrument. According to Ginger and Mister Smith, Spencer knew how to play a few of them as the Ih’valla liked to be diverse. One day, Brendon was going to have to get him to play with them. For now, he was content to play with Ryan. He let Ryan start playing and just joined in, improvising, and it was nice, to play without any expectations, without his parents waiting for him to either excel or fail at it.
Later Ginger made lunch and they sat around the table just talking, and it was so easy. Of course things had been easy when it was just them, because they fit, but Spencer’s parent’s were so laid back and relaxed. Talking to them was fun, especially when, despite the protests from Spencer and Ryan, they began telling the crazier stories from their youth.
Mister Smith told a hilarious story from just the previous summer on Bajor, when he and Ginger had first moved to the planet’s surface. Spencer and Ryan had come for a couple of weeks to help fix up a few things. Their plan to refinish the cabinets ended in the cabinet doors having to be removed after becoming warped and no longer fitting their frames. Mister Smith promised to send pictures of the painting incident, where more paint ended up in Ryan’s hair and on Spencer’s face than on the walls. When they’d pitched in with the landscaping and stripped a huge patch of grass down to the dirt, Ginger had drawn the line and they’d been relegated to the simple tasks of weeding the gardens and hanging the pictures.
“It’s much nicer, now,” Ginger said. “Even the lawn has had time to recover.” Spencer rolled his eyes.
“You should come visit,” Mister Smith said. “All of you, when you get the chance.”
“I’ve never been to Bajor,” Jon said.
“Well, it’s no Risa, to be sure,” Mister Smith said.
“Risa isn’t that special,” Jon assured him. He had the self-deprecating smile that he’d had the first time Brendon had met him and that he’d thought was charming. Now it sort of made him pissed off that someone had sometime made Jon feel bad about being Risian. Jon was so easy-going that whatever had happened had to have been bad.
Brendon looked at Ryan, because yeah, he’d like to go to Bajor and stay with Spencer’s parents. Maybe he’d get an idea of what parents were supposed to be like. But it had to be up to Ryan. Ryan shrugged. “It could be fun,” he said casually. “Maybe when you have a couple days off in a row we could get a shuttle down.”
Spencer beamed at them. “You guys can meet Crystal and we can go to the Holona River and the temple.” He sounded almost like a child with his excitement. It was infectious, made Brendon bounce in eagerness. He’d look at his extended duty schedule as soon as possible so they could plan a time to go.
After Spencer’s parents left Brendon was worried it might be awkward. On Pete’s station they’d been happy to see each other, and, well, drunk and horny. Now, they were back and there wasn’t anyone left around to whom they had to prove a point.
Jon pretty much put those fears to an end by instigating a group make-out session on the sofa. It was a little weird, figuring out where everyone fit. Ryan was all bony angles and Spencer was tall and curvy and Jon was short but surprisingly hard with muscle, and Brendon had never fit right with any of the people he’d slept with before, girls or guys. This…worked. There were some elbows in throats and accidental licking of eyes, but between the laughter and play fighting that ensued, it worked.
They remained in a pile, sharing languid kisses and caresses without the same urgency as the night before. There was the promise of it in the tilt and slide of hips and hands finding their way beneath clothing, but Brendon was just content laying here making out all day and his…lovers…fine, yes, lovers, seemed happy to go along with it.
Jon made them all watch stupid movies that he’d seen with The Academy. Ryan kept rolling his eyes and trying not to laugh. Brendon could tell by the tugging at the corners of his lips. Brendon and Spencer didn’t care, and Brendon wouldn’t have thought that Spencer would be the type to go for body humour, but it was fun, to just press their shoulders together and laugh until it hurt.
Brendon insisted they replicate pizza and popcorn and soda for dinner so that they had an authentic, Earth movie-watching experience, since four out of the five movies were from Earth (and Brendon decided he was just going to blame the weird Earth entertainment obsession on some Q-quirk of Pete’s).
Spencer was delighted by the fizziness of the soda, but it kept making Ryan sneeze, which made Jon ask Ryan if they’d accidentally got him pregnant last night. Ryan made this big deal out of eating the pizza, peeling off all the toppings, then licking off the sauce in a sort of obscene way that had them all staring at him with open mouths and glazed eyes. When Brendon kissed him after he tasted like the cherry of the soda and mozzarella and Ryan laughed and turned away from the kiss quickly to sneeze.
Brendon pressed his face into Ryan’s shoulder and laughed. Jon poked Ryan in the stomach and said, “You are so carrying our love children.”
“Fuck off, Walker,” Ryan grumbled, but he was blushing. Brendon wanted kids. Some distant, far, far, far away day, after a lot more sex and not having kids. But even though Jon was joking, it was kind of neat, thinking about it.
“Don’t even look at me like that,” Ryan told him warily. “I’m so not the girl here. It would ruin my figure. If Jon wants a love child, he can have it.”
After dinner, Spencer challenged Jon to a rematch of their chess game from before they’d left. Though, when Brendon glanced over every now and then, this version of the game involved some sort of weird kisses-for-pieces trade. Brendon might have been interested in joining, but Ryan still had the instruments out and started showing Brendon some more advanced parts on the belaklavion. He kept helping Brendon rearrange his fingers, sliding closer and closer until he was practically in Brendon’s lap. He either ignored or didn’t notice that Brendon was still in uniform, but once, the little clear stone on the ring Ryan had given him glinted as he played and Ryan picked up his hand, kissing the finger.
Then Brendon chanced another look at the others, and somehow, entirely without attracting his attention, Spencer had got on his knees between Jon’s legs. Jon’s head was thrown back and his dick was in Spencer’s mouth. Brendon’s breath caught at the sight and he went hard pretty much at once.
Ryan followed his gaze, watching and pressing his lips to Brendon’s knuckles. His teeth nipped at the sensitive skin between Brendon’s fingers, tongue flicking out in little teasing swipes. It was a simple touch, but it shot up his arm and tickled at the back of his neck. Somehow they went from holding the instruments and sitting beside one another to Ryan giving up on pretence and climbing completely into his lap, the belaklavions being set aside, mouths open and hungry.
“Brendon,” Ryan panted into him. Brendon looked up at him, their foreheads pressed together. Ryan’s eyes were squeezed shut tight. He opened them again and leaned back purposefully. His fingers traced down Brendon’s jaw, over his neck. He tapped a nail against the pip on Brendon’s collar. “Show me how to take this off.”
“Here.” Brendon took their joined hands to the edge of his jacket, helping him find the hidden fastening. Together they separated the pieces. Ryan smoothed his hands up Brendon’s chest, pushing the jacked over his shoulders and down his arms, throwing it aside. His fingers scrambled at Brendon’s waist, tugging the turtleneck free and pulling it up. Brendon raised his arms to help him get it off.
“Seriously,” Ryan muttered, when he reached the tank top beneath. “How many layers can you possibly need?” Brendon chuckled, kissed him and pulled away just long enough to get the tank over his head and for Ryan to get his one and only shirt off.
Their lips met again and Ryan’s hands strayed back to Brendon’s waistband, tickling the skin just inside. He found the fastening there himself, peeling it apart. “Starfleet underwear, Urie?” he teased.
“Bite me, Ross, it’s regulation,” Brendon said and hissed when Ryan did bite him, just under his jaw. He was going to have to get a dermal regenerator to keep on hand, living with these three, and their tendency to mark him.
They managed to get Brendon naked through a combination of wiggling and lifted hips. Ryan got off his lap long enough to shimmy out of the rest of his clothes, too. He settled back down, sliding their hips together.
At some point, far later in the evening, all four found their way into the bedroom. Brendon had never been in it before, and it would definitely need a bigger bed (though he wasn’t going to complain about being pressed tight between Spencer and Ryan with Jon’s legs tangled through). Still, Brendon liked it. Ryan mumbled to the computer, telling it to wake them in time for Brendon to get up for duty.
Ryan had completely done away with the grey everything and replaced it with warm yellows, golds and oranges. It was peaceful and rich looking. He’d blocked out the windows with Roman blinds, but on the ceiling were dimly sparkling lights. They provided less illumination than actual stars, and weren’t in any particular pattern, but they cast a soft glow over Spencer’s face that made him look even more beautiful than usual.
He kept watching him until he was having trouble keeping his eyes open. Jon’s thumb was rubbing gently up and down his arm; Ryan’s breath was hot on the back of Brendon’s neck every time he exhaled and his arm was snug around Brendon’s waist. “Go to sleep, Bren,” Spencer muttered without opening his eyes, voice slurred with sleep. “We’ll still be here tomorrow.”
That wasn’t even the problem. He knew they would be. He wasn’t worried. He could have worried about a lot of things, like what his parents would say when he spoke with them next, or what exactly Dax and Sisko had in mind for him, or whatever. But he wasn’t worried about this. And the rest of it seemed small in comparison.
He just wanted to see Spencer, because he’d gone twenty-two years without seeing him, and it was too long. No matter how much time they had, it wouldn’t be enough to see the curve of Spencer’s lips, or the black of Ryan’s lashes against the pale of his cheek, or the way Jon’s hair fell over his forehead, giving away glints of gold.
Brendon never remembered his dreams.
Φ
Ryan half-woke when Brendon silenced the computer’s alarm and was aware of Brendon and Spencer untangling themselves from Ryan and Jon, trying to be quiet and careful about it. Spencer didn’t have to be at work until 0900, but he did better on little sleep than Ryan did, and he heard him say something to Brendon about getting breakfast together.
Jon mumbled in his sleep and rolled over, snuggling into Ryan’s side. The shower started running and the sound of it soothed him back into a light sleep. Water-cooled lips pressed against his temple and at the corner of his mouth and Ryan smiled at the touches, because he knew which belonged to Spencer, and which to Brendon, just from the pressure and the texture of each.
When he woke for real, it was to Jon’s hands pushing up his sleep shirt, and his mouth was hot on Ryan’s stomach, sucking at his navel, licking and biting ‘til Ryan was panting. He arched his back, lifted his hips, tried to be subtle about it. But Jon bit the waistband of his pants and tugged a little, looking at Ryan from under his lashes, eyes devious.
“Please,” Ryan whispered, and his voice sounded hoarse and alien. He put his hand in Jon’s hair, not pushing…well, maybe a little. “Please, Jon.”
That was what he’d been waiting for. He dipped his head lower, rubbing his nose against Ryan’s erection through the thin material of his pants, opened his mouth, breath damp and hot.
“Shit.” Ryan fingers tightened in Jon’s hair and Jon started mouthing him through his pants and there was the added friction. Jon kept sucking until his pants were soaking wet and Ryan started keening. He didn’t really care if he sounded desperate.
Jon lifted his head just enough to look at him, straining against the tug in his hair. He grabbed the waistband, pulling it down, catching on Ryan’s dick and Ryan hurried to help him get rid of the pants. “Now,” Jon said, voice light. “This is my first time giving a blowjob, so you’ll need to let me know if I’m doing it wrong.”
And fuck, Ryan needed time to think about and process that, because he was incredibly turned on and everything, but there was never going to be another first time, and he felt a little guilty taking it without Brendon and Spencer.
Then Jon started licking at the head of his cock and he remembered that he’d just watched while Brendon and Spencer had fucked Jon for the first time, so he so totally deserved this. There could be a re-enactment later. It would be awesome.
Later, boneless and content, they cuddled together, and maybe Jon was just the sort of person who allowed him to be honest, or maybe Ryan was, like, growing as a person or something, but it didn’t hurt to give away the personal thoughts that came to him. “I hate living on this station,” he grumbled. Not in a hate-my-life sort of way, but in a general sort of bitching way.
“Whyzat?” It was like open-mouthed kisses against his skin. Ryan smiled and let his fingers toy in Jon’s hair.
“I miss waking up and having light creep around the blinds. Or being able to tell the time from the way the room grows dim.” It wasn’t that Ryan disliked outer space, really. There wasn’t any planet with which he felt a connection, no place in particular he wanted to live. Still, this particular station came with its own special set of issues, being the place where he and Spencer and his family had been kept as slaves. He didn’t even mind saying as much to Jon, who just listened and hummed in agreement and stroked his hands over Ryan’s arms and sides.
They finally tumbled out of bed sometime in the early afternoon and went to drag Spencer off to lunch. Spencer took one look at them and knew what they’d been doing. “You’re such a whore, Ross,” he said.
“Yeah, well, don’t think I don’t know what you were doing with Brendon in the shower this morning,” Ryan said loftily.
Jon left him after lunch, and no amount of clinging and slow kisses could persuade him to go with Ryan back to one of their quarters. “I’m supposed to be working with an Engineer on the Promenade; we’re doing some work on some of the shops. I have to earn my keep, you know.”
“I’ll keep you,” Ryan said, with what he hoped was a seductive smile.
“I’m no one’s kept man, Ross,” Jon said. He gave him a smile like a slow burn and tugged Ryan by the hips for another kiss. “Why don’t you go bother Brendon? He should be getting off soon.” The words might have stung if Jon hadn’t said them with such affection.
The store was crowded; friends of Ginger’s and Spencer’s visiting, curious Bajorans who’d heard about Ryan’s confinement and subsequent escape. Even just walking down the Promenade, Ryan had heard the rumours and questions following him. DS9 was at maximum capacity population wise—however, that only meant roughly 7,000 people, and word carried fast. He didn’t have any plans to hide his relationship, but he didn’t particularly feel like announcing it to everyone, or anything. Everyone apparently didn’t care about his intentions, desperate for the slightest bit of news.
He managed to work for a couple hours, working on new pieces and shooting death glares at anyone who directed any less-than-professional inquiries his way. Spencer was great about deflecting the rumourmongers. Ryan felt a happy, content little glow every time Spencer did it; Ryan didn’t know what a real father was supposed to be like, but Spencer was a nice substitute.
As 1500 approached, he started getting anxious. He would have liked to just stay put and have Brendon come to him. He wanted a do-over. He wanted Brendon to just stroll in casually like he had before, and then Ryan wouldn’t freak out. At the same time, he really didn’t feel like causing a scene for all the customers. He sent a wave to Brendon’s shift station. Meet me a Quark’s when your shift is finished.
Brendon had changed. Ryan would have felt guilty about that except that Brendon usually changed, which explained why it had taken Ryan so long to figure out he was with Starfleet. Besides, as much as he wanted to prove a point, Brendon looked a lot more comfortable in his tight jeans and purple zip-up jacket. He waved when he saw Ryan and began weaving through the crowd to reach him.
“Hey,” he leaned over the table to kiss Ryan’s upturned face. He did it in a completely thoughtless sort of way—like he just wanted to kiss Ryan, not like he felt he had anything to prove to anyone. “Where’s Jon?”
“Doing work,” Ryan said, faux-scorn.
“Geez, what a loser.” Brendon rolled his eyes. His foot nudged Ryan’s under the table. Taking a leaf from Jon’s book, he was wearing sandals, and his toes quickly found their way inside the leg of Ryan’s pants, tickling the bare skin of his ankle. Ryan bit his lip against a smile.
“So, what did Sisko want from you?” Ryan asked. Brendon had mentioned it in passing the night before, and looked so excited and nervous that Ryan had to be interested on his behalf or he’d be the worst boyfriend ever.
Brendon shook his head. “Later. I can’t talk about it here. Besides, Jon and Spence should hear it, too.”
Over Brendon’s shoulder, Ryan saw a wave of Starfleet uniforms enter the bar. Probably on the same shift as Brendon. Only a couple of them broke off from the crowd and headed toward their table. Cold dread settled in Ryan’s blood.
“Urie.” The Bolian helped herself to the seat on Brendon’s left, and maybe all Starfleet officers were just that bold. She eyed Ryan like he was some wild, unpredictable animal. “Ross,” she greeted.
“I’m sorry,” Ryan said coolly. “I’m afraid I haven’t had the pleasure.” He tried to keep his distaste out of his tone.
“Ryan,” Brendon said. He looked between Ryan, the Bolian and the other two officers. “This is Ensign Dorios, Lieutenant Remsal and Ensign Colleen.”
“Way to get kidnapped during your first week,” Dorios said to Brendon, and Ryan bristled, even though she was obviously joking.
Brendon just gave them a little self-deprecating smirk. “Yeah. Good thing Ryan came after me,” he said. He snatched Ryan’s hand off the table, holding it tight in his. He gave him an inexplicably smug look.
“Seriously,” Colleen said. “Leave it to Starfleet to lock up someone who actually cares and wants to help instead of doing something useful.” She was a sweet-looking Bajoran with pale hair and bright eyes, and Ryan would never stop being confused by Bajoran Starfleet officers.
“Um.” Ryan shifted uncomfortably. He was used to being the only person around who would criticise Starfleet. “Yeah.” Colleen gave him a sparkling smile at that.
Remsal had asked Brendon a question full of long scientific terms that Ryan didn’t even remotely understand, and now they and Dorios were discussing it together. Colleen, dressed in yellow, either didn’t follow it or didn’t care, because she kept her attention on Ryan. “I heard you were working on some new designs,” she said.
“What?” He cut his gaze to her briefly before looking back at Brendon.
“The new earrings you’re making,” Colleen clarified. He looked at her again, longer this time. He recognised her earring as one of the special designs he’d created when he’d first taken over the shop.
“Oh,” he said dumbly. “Yeah.”
“I think it sounds like a really interesting idea,” Colleen said. “I feel weird, sometimes, wearing this.” She fingered the design, indicating the Mi’tino landowners and merchants. “I mean, it doesn’t have anything to do with who the Colleen family are any longer. My father was a general during the Occupation; I’m with Starfleet, you know?”
Ryan kind of did. He nodded his head warily. She was going to say something stupid or offensive any minute now, and then he was going to have to be a bitch, and it would embarrass Brendon and be awful. Only, she didn’t say anything stupid or offensive. She just kept being irrepressibly sweet and occasionally funny as she went on the tell him just what she’d like her earring to represent, and stemming from that, her interests and why she’d joined Starfleet, which maybe wasn’t as understandable or acceptable as Brendon’s reasoning, but still okay.
Just the five of them sitting around was okay. Brendon kept Remsal and Dorios distracted, though Dorios had traded a few words with Ryan and she seemed okay, too, if a little gossipy. At least she hadn’t said anything about Ryan and Brendon’s relationship. But after a while, several other officers entered and from the calling of names and greetings, it was clear they were friends of those at the table. Ryan’s hand tightened reflexively. Four Starfleet officers at the table he could stand, if one of them was Brendon and the other was Colleen. But ten was never going to happen.
Brendon squeezed his hand back. As if reading his mind, he cleared his throat and said, “You know, we have to meet Jon and Spence, soon. I’ll see you guys tomorrow?”
Dorios gave him a little wave. Colleen put a hand on Ryan’s shoulder and he was very proud with himself for not flinching. “Can I come by your shop some time? Look over ideas?”
Ryan nodded, mouth dry. He could feel Brendon watching him, so he made himself reach out a little. “I can try a few sketches with what you’ve told me.”
Colleen gave another one of her big smiles. “Great. I’ll send you a wave.”
Brendon held his hand all the way to the lift and once they were inside and away from all the prying eyes of the Promenade, Ryan gave in and put his head on Brendon’s shoulder. He felt shaky and weird. “I don’t want to do that again,” he said into the fabric of Brendon’s uniform. Brendon put an arm around him, hand steady and reassuring on his back. “Maybe one at a time.”
“You don’t have to see any of them,” Brendon said. He pressed a kiss on Ryan’s hair.
“It’s okay,” Ryan said, although he wasn’t entirely sure it was. Still, he had to try. “Colleen was…nice. And Dorios and Remsal don’t seem awful.”
Brendon squeezed his waist, steering him down the hall. Ryan realised he was being led to Brendon’s quarters. He didn’t really care which of their rooms they ended up in, but he distinctly remembered Brendon saying something in bed last night, about staying in Ryan’s.
“I just want to get some stuff to bring to your place,” Brendon said. He sounded inexplicably nervous. “Some different clothes, you know, and my pillow and…I mean, if you don’t care.”
Ryan laughed. It was ridiculous, how adorable Brendon’s insecurity was. He’d been so bold before they were lovers. Still was in lots of little ways that he probably didn’t notice. “Brendon.” He stopped Brendon outside the door. “Our place. Mine and Spencer’s and Jon’s. And yours.” Brendon hung his head.
“Why are you being so weird about this?” Ryan asked, smile faltering.
“I just. I haven’t had a lot of relationships, and none of them ended well, and I tried this moving-in thing once and it didn’t work out at all, and I’m not really looking forward to the part where you burn all my stuff and kick me out and tell me you never want to see my face again, and then spread all sorts of horrible rumours about me,” Brendon said, all in one rushed breath.
“You’re stupid,” Ryan said fondly. “That isn’t going to happen with us. I’ve never gotten to the moving-in point, because it’s never been right. We’re right. And you know, you don’t even have to call it ‘moving in’ if you don’t want, but do you seriously think that me, or Jon, or Spencer are going to let you get out of bed in the middle of the night to come back here? Because that’s stupid.” He kicked Brendon’s ankle.
Brendon chuckled softly, a little sadly. “Okay. I’m stupid. I’ll try to stop. It might take a while.” Ryan hated the negativity and hopelessness in Brendon’s tone. That was Ryan’s deal, and he was good at handling it in himself, but in someone he loved, he just felt useless.
“Come on,” Ryan said, tugging on his hands. “Let’s get your stuff. Spencer will be getting off work soon and he can help me convince you of your stupidity.”
The door opened and Brendon stopped short halfway through the room. There was a man in casual Cardassian clothing standing by the window. He turned to look at them and Ryan could guess from his features and fashion that he had to be Clark Urie. And, okay, maybe he was ready for meeting one or two of Brendon’s friends from work, but he was totally unprepared for family. Especially when Brendon’s family were like, the Starfleet model. And especially when the family member in question happened to be the ambassador to the Cardassians.
“Clark,” Brendon said. He dropped Ryan’s hand, and that stung.
“Brendon,” Clark said. He held out his arms and Brendon hugged him quickly, perfunctorily. “And…”
“Ryan,” Brendon said.
“Maybe I should go,” Ryan said. He turned and Brendon didn’t try to stop him.
Clark said, “Ryan. Mom and Dad mentioned something about you.” Ryan looked at him over his shoulder and thought it would be nice if he just shut up. Then he smiled at Brendon. “And two other guys.”
Brendon flushed and scowled. It wasn’t in a nice way. “Mom and Dad can go to hell. What, did they send you here to try and set me straight, or something? Be a mouthpiece for some more of their hypocritical, speciesest ideas about relationships?”
“That was the idea,” Clark said. He had an easy, laid-back way about him. “I came as soon as I heard you were missing and since I was the closest, they thought I was the best option. I told them they could go to hell. Only, not in those terms. Nor, apparently, quite as colourfully as you did. Which, by the way, Jarod and Kara would like me to pass on a ‘good job.’”
“What?” Brendon asked dumbly. Ryan turned fully around to watch them. He touched Brendon’s shoulder lightly and Brendon tensed at first, but he relaxed quickly.
“Seriously, Brendon, did you think I was coming here to yell at you?” Clark looked bewildered. “You were missing. I was worried. I was already almost here when I heard you were back, and it’s been a while since I’ve seen you. So I just came anyway. And I really don’t care how many people you’re seeing. I’m getting married to a Cardassian, so I guess I just have to thank you for giving Mom and Dad something bigger to bitch about so they finally got off my case.”
Brendon flinched a couple of times, like he didn’t know how to take it. “Aridanna’s actually going to marry you?” he said finally.
“Aridanna?” Ryan said. He hadn’t meant to. He’d meant to stay quiet and maybe sneak out or something. “That’s a Bajoran name.”
Clark looked at him. “Aridanna was born during the Occupation,” he said. “She’s half Bajoran. Does that make it better?”
Ryan opened his mouth to say something then shut it with a snap. Brendon scowled at his brother. “Don’t be a dick,” he said.
“He’s the one judging me for marrying a Cardassian,” Clark shot back.
Ryan stiffened all over. “Can you blame me?”
“Pretty much, yeah. How’s you hating a person just ‘cause they’re Cardassian any different from my parents hating you just because you’re sleeping with my brother?” Clark challenged.
“Clark!” Brendon shouted.
“Anyway, whatever. I didn’t come here to cause a problem,” Clark said.
“It’s alright,” Ryan said, surprising even himself, because he found it was the truth. “I’m sorry. I really should go.”
“Please,” Brendon said. He caught Ryan’s hand again and didn’t let go, even when Ryan tugged.
“Ryan,” Clark said. “I don’t want to fight with you. If you’re important to Brendon, you’re important to me. I wanted to meet you. And the others.”
“I…” Ryan swallowed around the lump in his throat. “I—the Occupation sort of fucked with my ability to be rational about things.”
“Understandable,” Clark said. “If it helps, I chose Cardassia as my focus so I could make sure nothing like the Occupation would ever happen again.” Ryan nodded shakily. Clark didn’t owe him that much—hell, he didn’t owe him any sort of explanation at all.
“Are your other boys going to hate me more or less, like, on a scale? Ten being hate a lot,” Clark asked.
Ryan, damn it, couldn’t fight it. He laughed, maybe, just a little. “Jon and Spence are way easier than me,” he said.
Clark gave him a smile. “Thank god.” He looked at his brother. “Will you have dinner with us? Aridanna and I have the ambassador’s quarters on the Valiant. They’re pretty huge. I think we could all fit comfortably.”
Brendon gave him a questioning look, putting it in Ryan’s hands. Ryan hated it, but he felt ridiculous. Clark probably thought he was little better than a child throwing a temper tantrum. He could do better—with the Starfleet thing, with Brendon’s family, with Cardassians in general—he would do better.
“Dinner sounds lovely,” Ryan said.
Clark left them after deciding on meeting at 1900 for dinner. “You didn’t have to,” Brendon started. “I mean, you still don’t, not if you’re not comfortable.”
“What, and let you all go without me? Brendon, I’m in this as much as Spencer and Jon are. And besides, I want to have dinner with them. He seems…What he said, about the people important to you being important to him? Me, too. I feel that way, too. And it wasn’t like he wasn’t right about me. I can be an asshole.”
Saying things like that was getting easier and easier. He still couldn’t believe that it had been less than a month ago that he’d been living out of the jewellery store, spending hours researching stories and the rest of his time working on designs for the shop. When Spencer had to force him to go out, and remind him to eat and had pretty much given up on making Ryan share any of what was going on in his head. It was sort of amazing and a little scary, how fast it had all changed, and was still changing.
“Are you going to freak out on me?” Brendon asked, and Ryan wondered how long he’d been silent. “Come on, let’s go get Spencer and he can tell us both how stupid we’re being.”
The kiss Brendon gave him was slow and tender. He tasted like whatever he’d been drinking at Quark’s, sugary and fruity with a sharp bite of mint. “We’re really lucky that Jon and Spencer combined have about a quarter of our issues.” Brendon smiled against Ryan’s pulse.
He didn’t mean to, really, but Brendon’s lips against his neck made his breath go quick and then they were stumbling to the bed, tearing off clothes as they went. “Pink satin, Brendon?” Ryan teased as he fell back on the comforter. Brendon shut him up with another kiss, pressing him back.
By the time they got dressed (Ryan slipping on a pair of Brendon’s jeans, and those were really comfortable, if a little short and loose), it was past time for Spencer to be off, and when they found him in his quarters, Jon was already with him. Spencer was weird about dinner, but Ryan knew it was on his behalf.
All the same, despite his reservations and Spencer’s, dinner went really well. Aridanna was pleasant and fiercely intelligent and yeah, it was hard, sitting across the table from someone who, from all outward appearances, was Cardassian. She had been raised by a Cardassian mother on Cardassia Prime, and in some ways she was very much like the Cardassians that Ryan had known, who had been his masters. But then she started talking about all the policies she was working on to change, and revealed that her mother had been a supporter of Bajorans. She’d helped them even before the end of the Occupation, and had taught her daughter to respect all life. It was strange, to hear lessons like that being taught from one Cardassian to another.
Clark, when he wasn’t being confrontational, was a pretty decent man. He was fairly easy going, in ways different from his brother, but he didn’t so much bat an eye when introduced to Spencer and Jon. Then, after dessert, when they were all just sitting around, he carried on a two hour conversation with Jon about warp cores and energy cells and biometrics. If left Ryan’s head spinning with confusion, and even Brendon’s eyes got glazed over, but Jon really enjoyed it.
In bed that night, Ryan lay sweaty and slightly sore and listened to Spencer and Brendon fall asleep quickly, thinking. “Okay?” Jon asked sleepily. His hands never stopped roaming down Ryan’s arm.
Surprising, it wasn’t a lie when Ryan smiled and said, “Yeah. Terrific.” And, it earned him a kiss.
Next Chapter:
http://moku-youbi.livejournal.com/2944.html
Brendon looked around himself in surprise, assessing the situation. He was back in his uniform, as was Dax, though the rest of them were wearing the same clothes they had been on the station. There was a weight in his pocket and when he slipped his hand inside, he felt the jagged edges of the bat pin Pete had given him, and something else, a bottle, smooth and—dear god, tell him Pete didn’t put lube in his pocket. But he had other things to worry about.
“Ensign Urie.” Sisko’s voice boomed across Operations. He didn’t sound angry, exactly, but it wasn’t a happy sound, either.
They moved as one toward his office, and as they stepped inside, Dax prevented further berating by stepping out of the crowd and rushing towards him, exclaiming, “Benjamin!”
Commander Sisko’s face split in a huge smile. He swept Dax into a hug, which was like, really inappropriate, but Brendon had heard rumours about them, and no one seemed to care, like it was old hat. “Old man!” Sisko greeted her, almost rapturously. “Good to have you back.” Brendon had only met the guy once, but this was such a dramatic change, he didn’t know what to make of it. He couldn’t quite reconcile serious, stern, forbidding Sisko with happy, hugging, sweet Sisko.
“Is Brendon there?” A cold, heavy feeling settled in the pit of Brendon’s stomach at the sound of his mother’s voice.
“Mom,” Brendon said. Sisko gestured for him to step behind the desk. His parents came into view on the screen. His mother made a sound of relief and his father’s shoulders slumped a little. He supposed that should have made him feel good, that they’d been worried, but all he could hear was what he knew would come, when they waved him in private, demanding to know how he could have been so careless, how he could have let himself be taken.
“Thank god,” his father muttered.
“I’ll take it this means you have those Bajorans who took him then, too,” His mother said, addressing Odo.
“Admiral Urie,” Odo said, sounding put-upon, “We have yet to find any concrete evidence that they were involved in—”
“Those Bajorans,” Brendon repeated. He knew Odo and Dax and Sisko were watching. He knew he should shut up and leave this ‘til later. Indignant anger was building up in his chest, replacing the anxiety.
“Those Bajorans?” he demanded. “Those Bajorans are my boyfriends, and the only ones who came after me!” he shouted. Then with a sheepish look at Jon, added, “And Jon. He’s our boyfriend too, and he came after me, only he isn’t Bajoran.” He shook his head. “But that’s beside the point.”
Sisko and Odo looked shell-shocked, but it was nothing compared to the matching expressions of mingled horror and anger on his parents’ faces. Suddenly, Brendon wished they’d come up with some sort of cover story for what had happened before they got back. Now, standing in front of his parents and his commanding officers, he couldn’t think, let along formulate a complex lie.
Again, Dax came to the rescue, sweeping to Brendon’s side. She had this way of pitching her voice that was soothing without sounding condescending, and Brendon saw the looks of awe catch from Jon to Spencer to Ryan as she spoke. She wove an intricate story about Changelings and the Vorta and a Q, that, while believable, resembled the truth only in that it included the same species. Also, she’d apparently spoken to Pete or someone about it before leaving, because she had information about the Changeling that they hadn’t had before, which leant credibility to the story.
Brendon knew his parents. He could tell that his mother’s blinking stare and his father’s frown meant that they believed it. He let out a shaky sigh, and smiled hesitantly at his…boyfriends sounded silly, even though he’d used it. Lovers…well, yes, but that didn’t sound right, either. He’d have to figure it out. But he smiled at them and they smiled back, even Ryan, and Brendon figured that meant he’d done something right.
“Brendon,” his father said, and sounded worn out and weary. “Is that the truth?”
Brendon felt insulted on Dax’s behalf, even though he knew she was lying. He nodded his head fervently. He knew better than to try to add anything or put his own spin on it, because then it would go from being vaguely weird but mostly believable to downright ridiculous.
“Commander Sisko,” his mother said, putting on her admiral voice, “may we please have a moment alone with Ensign Urie?” Brendon fought the urge to cringe. That would just give them more ammo.
Sisko graciously acceded and Odo and Dax went with him. His…Jon, Spencer and Ryan moved to go as well, but he held up a hand to stop them. Ryan looked uncomfortable but Spencer kept him in place with an arm snug around his waist and Jon touched his arm in that way he had that just made everything seem so much better.
“What,” his mother asked, “is this nonsense about you having…having…boyfriends.” She spat out the last word like it was something poisonous to her.
“I really don’t see what that has to do with anything,” Brendon said. He crossed his arms over his chest and tried to look closed off. He was afraid he just looked like a scared little boy.
“We’re not Andorians, Brendon,” his mother said. The way she said it, god. Brendon thought it was laughable sometimes, how his parents put on this good show for everyone else about how they fit into the perfect Starfleet mould, but they could be really close-minded and bigoted about cultures that didn’t mesh with their set of values.
“Andorians have to have four people in their marriage because they have four sexes and they need all four to reproduce,” Brendon said through clenched teeth.
His mother looked harassed. “Bolian, then. Humans do not have plural relationships.”
“Yeah, well, this Human does. I really don’t see why we’re talking about this; I was just kidnapped.” He knew, knew that it was a lost cause, but the part of him that was still an insecure kid wanted them to show concern, ask him if he was okay.
“Yes,” his father said scathingly. “Let’s get back to the part where you managed to get yourself kidnapped and had to have a senior officer come to your rescue after less than a week on your first assignment.”
“Wait,” Jon said. “Wait, you’re trying to make it sound like this is his fault?” Brendon had never heard Jon sound so serious or angry. Jon was Laid Back Guy, not Face Twisted Up With Rage Guy.
“Who is that?” his mother demanded.
“It’s Jon,” Brendon said. He held out his hand and Jon stepped around the desk to take it, glaring at the screen.
His mother gave Jon an icy look. “I thought we asked everyone to leave.”
“You asked the military in the room to leave. Because, let’s face it Admiral, this isn’t really an official dressing-down. You don’t have anything you can reprimand me about, because according to the Federation, I haven’t done anything wrong. It’s only your screwed up logic, Jesus.” Brendon was breathing heavily, but Jon was squeezing his hand tightly. It made him feel a little better.
“Don’t you take that tone with us,” his father started warningly.
“Whatever.” Brendon was disgusted, and embarrassed that Spencer and Ryan and Jon were seeing this. “I’m fine, and that’s about the end of your involvement in this, because the extent of your involvement is that I’m your son, and right now, I don’t really care about that. So why don’t you leave this to Commander Sisko and Constable Odo and I’ll try not to do anything really inconvenient and embarrassing, like die.”
He pushed the button to end the transmission before they could respond, jabbing so hard it sort of hurt his finger. “Ow.” He was pouting, he knew, and sounded like a sullen kid, but Spencer and Ryan came around the desk, too, Spencer squeezing his shoulder, Ryan running a stroking hand over his hair. He wanted to hug them and just hold on, but the walls of the office were glass, and Sisko and Odo were just standing right outside. Everyone in Ops could see them.
“Hey, guys, I’ve got to…” he gestured outside.
Spencer grimaced. “Me, too.”
Brendon caught Sisko’s gaze, gave him a nod to let him know they’d finished. He and Odo came in together. Sisko looked distantly amused, but Odo was hard to read. He crossed his arms over his chest. “Do you want to try to giving me your version of events, Mister Smith?” he asked.
“I know I shouldn’t have helped break Ryan out,” Spencer said evenly. “But we had to get Brendon back. I’ll take whatever punishment you give.”
“It’s my fault,” Ryan interrupted. “I could have been more forthcoming about what happened between me and Brendon. Spencer was just helping.”
Jon rolled his eyes. “Whatever. I was the one who took Spencer to the Helena.”
Sisko made a sound suspiciously like a chuckle, but when Brendon looked over, his face was smooth and serious. “As the only Starfleet officer present during Mister Ross’ departure from the station, Lieutenant Dax has taken complete responsibility for his escape, and explained the necessity of the situation,” he said.
Spencer looked at Odo, as if waiting for the axe to fall. He eyed Spencer and made a grumbling sound. “Since Mister Ross wasn’t involved in Ensign Urie’s disappearance, and seeing as everyone has made it back to the station unharmed, I suppose I can pretend you were just doing your job.”
Brendon didn’t know Odo, like, at all. He’d seen him twice before since coming to the station. And it was hard to tell. He wasn’t like William—he either hadn’t mastered his ability, or he didn’t care, but his face was smooth, incapable of much expression. Still, despite his tone, Brendon got the idea that he might have been teasing. Spencer’s smile, sharp and bright, confirmed it.
“I believe temporary desk duty will be sufficient,” he concluded, and Spencer said, “Yes sir,” through his grin.
“Mister Ross, Mister Smith.” Sisko shook each of their hands as he addressed them. “Mister…”
“Walker,” Jon said, shaking his hand and smiling wide. “Jon Walker.”
“Mister Walker,” Sisko finished, with an answering smile. “I’d like to thank you all for bringing Ensign Urie back to us safely.” It was a dismissal and they seemed to understand that. Ryan cast a look at Brendon like he didn’t want to leave, and Brendon just gave him a reassuring smile. They and Odo left, the doors sliding shut after them.
“I suppose most of the details of your kidnapping are best left untold, if Dax’s story was any indication,” Sisko said. He had this knowing smirk that told Brendon he hadn’t bought a word of Dax’s story. “However, this connection you have in the Gamma Quadrant and his information on the situation there could be vital right now. Dax said something about a communication device?”
Brendon fingered the bat-jewel in his pocket and nodded his head. He wondered what else Dax had said to Sisko while he was talking to his parents and hoped none of it was too embarrassing. “And you’ll be reporting any pertinent information you receive on the Dominion as you receive it.”
It wasn’t even a question. “Of course, sir!” he exclaimed. He could read between the lines. Sisko was willing to look the other way about weird not-quite kidnappings and the breaking out of prisoners as long as it benefited the greater good. It was one of the reasons that he was pretty sure Ryan could eventually come to like Sisko, because Sisko really cared about people, the Bajorans in particular. He cared about them a lot more than he worried about rules and regulations.
“Good job, by the way, Ensign,” Sisko said.
“But, Commander, I was kidnapped,” Brendon protested.
Sisko smiled. “Keep it up and you might be looking at a promotion sometime soon. Now, go take the rest of the day off; you’re expected to return to duty tomorrow morning at 0700 hours. Lieutenant Dax and I would like to discuss a project with you.”
Brendon turned to go, but paused at the door. “Sir,” he said, and this was probably crossing the line, but he was really curious. “Lieutenant Dax…she calls you…” Even saying it made him feel like he was committing insubordination, so he just grazed over the name and went on, “and you called her Old Man…”
He looked, but Sisko didn’t look angry. He had an almost goofy smile on his face. “You’ll have to ask Lieutenant Dax about her previous host sometime,” was all he said, then, “Dismissed.”
When the lift lowered him to the Promenade level, he expected for them to be waiting for him and was a little disappointed that they weren’t. Then, across the Promenade he caught sight of them, outside Ryan’s shop, where two older Bajorans, a man and a woman, were speaking to them.
Brendon hurried over and when Spencer saw him, his face lit up. “Mom, Dad, this is Brendon.” He was swept up in a hug by Spencer’s mother before he had a chance to process the introduction.
“Wha—” Brendon began, but Spencer just shook his head, so Brendon stopped fighting it.
“We came as soon as we heard,” she said, and released him. “From Brent, I might add.” She looked testily at her son.
“We were kind of in a hurry, Mom,” Spencer said. He looked fond and exasperated and slightly pink in the cheeks.
“Brendon, I’m glad to meet you,” she said. “I’m Ginger.”
“Spencer,” Spencer’s father said, nodding, and Brendon decided he was just going to think of him as Mister Smith to avoid the confusion of having to address two people by the same name.
Ginger looked around at all of them then, and between the appraisal in her eyes and the way she’d hugged him, Brendon got the idea that maybe she knew about them. It was a little embarrassing, not because he was the sort of person to be embarrassed by it, but because she was Spencer’s mom and it was weird to think of her knowing about them like that.
“Ginger was about to tell me a funny story about Ryan and Spencer when they were twelve,” Jon said, eyes sparkling.
“No, she really wasn’t,” Spencer said.
“We thought we could look after the shop for a few days, give you a chance to rest,” she said to Ryan. She soothed his hair down as if he were her son, too, and Brendon guessed, from what Ryan had told them, that he was like a son to her.
“Of course,” Spencer snorted. “Poor Ryan needs a break from the jewellery store while I take the punishment for breaking him out.” Ryan punched him in the arm. It was intriguing, watching them interact like this, especially now that he’d seen them together in bed. Weird, almost, how they were such close friends that they seemed like brothers, especially at a time like this, but how they worked as lovers, too.
“Maybe we should let the boys rest now,” Mr. Smith said, and the humour in his tone confirmed that Spencer’s parents totally knew.
“Actually, I’m feeling okay,” Jon said. Brendon nodded. Maybe embarrassing stories were out (for now), but he’d still like to get to know the people who’d raised Spencer and Ryan. Especially since they were so doing this foursome thing. Obviously, his parents weren’t down with it, but Spencer’s weren’t yelling at them or insulting them, so that seemed like a good start.
They had eaten just before they’d come, and Spencer’s parents weren’t hungry, so they ended up just hanging out in the jewellery shop. Jon and the two Spencers started up a conversation about politics which was intriguing, but Ryan and Ginger had gone over to the display case and were discussing Ryan’s new designs, and Brendon had wanted to hear more about that since he’d first seen the shop.
Brendon approached them and Ryan smiled a little shyly, maybe remembering the last time they’d been here together. Brendon was acutely aware of the fact that when Pete had sent them back, he’d put Brendon back in his uniform. “Going to bend your rule for me?” he asked gently.
Ryan’s smile wavered, then turned down at the corners. “I should probably take that sign down, anyway,” he said. “No one pays any attention. Brendon.”
“I was just teasing,” Brendon hurried to assure him. “Hey. Show me your designs, too.”
“Brendon knows all about the D’jarra,” Ryan said to Ginger. “Probably more than most Bajoran kids, these days.”
“Oh?” Ginger arched a brow at him.
Brendon shrugged. “I dunno. We learned a lot of cultural stuff at the Academy. I know a lot about a lot of cultures.” He hated it when people made a big deal about him knowing stuff. It should have felt good, but with his parents, nothing was good enough, and he’d got used to talking his achievements down instead of up.
“Show me your designs,” he repeated, trying to divert attention.
Ryan got it. He stretched his lips in a thin line, like he didn’t approve, but he didn’t press the issue any further. He drew out a tray of black velvet from the case, the bands of latinum and silver sparkling against the contrast. “These are some designs I’ve been putting together to represent the traditional D’jarra while incorporating new careers and lifestyles, fashioned after the original concept of castes.
“For example, this one…” He fished around in a drawer below his workstation and pulled out a long slender box. The earring inside shone bright silver. It was simpler than Ryan’s dangling, elaborate earring. Streamlined. Just the post of the earring, the cuff, and the chain between them and no more. “This one I made for Spencer. This,” he indicated the post—a simple flower with six petals with a single small diamond in the centre and even smaller chips of blue stone at the points, “indicates his original caste, Ih’valla. However this,” he traced his small finger along the pattern that trimmed the edge of the cuff; it looked like a highly stylised version of Bajoran writing. “This indicates the Ke’lora.”
“Lawmen,” Brendon said and Ginger gave him a smile. He never would have thought of it, but it was perfect.
Ryan shrugged. “I don’t even know if anyone will be interested. A lot of people grow attached to their earrings; besides, I can’t anticipate of which caste one was and to which they would now belong, so these are just examples. But I could make adjustments to current pieces as well, if someone wanted to keep their earring.”
Ginger hugged him with one arm, tucking him against her. “It’s lovely, Ryan. I think you underestimate how well it will be taken, too. Without the castes we’re all trying to find our places, all over again.”
Ryan flushed, like he was unused to praise. He had so much in common with Brendon, for being so incredibly different. “Can…can other people. Other than Bajorans. Can other people wear them?” He didn’t look at Ryan, afraid of what he might see.
There was a long silence, almost painful. Then Ginger saved them from further awkwardness by saying, “Generally, outsiders do no wear our earrings, as they were not part of the caste system. They can, of course, purchase them if they desire, but publicly displaying them can be seen as insulting. The exception is aliens who marry into Bajoran families. If one has a Bajoran spouse, it is acceptable to wear an earring that represents the caste or family into which they have married.”
Inexplicably, that made Brendon’s eyes sting. He knew it was stupid, he knew this was going to take work and Bajorans weren’t exactly trusting of strangers, and he knew Ryan in particular had issues with Humans and Starfleet and all of that. But all the same, it hurt that he couldn’t be a part of this, which was what Ryan did for a living, what he enjoyed doing, what he was good at doing. It was something that he and Spencer could share that Jon and Brendon couldn’t.
Ryan changed the subject quickly, showing them some other things on which he’d been working. Perhaps it was pointed, to show Brendon that there were other things—he showed them rings and necklaces and bracelets and broaches, dropping comments about how they were popular with many different species.
There was one ring in particular that caught Brendon’s eye, a spiral of dull gold with a small star at one end of the spiral, and a crescent moon at the other. When he mentioned his like for it, Ryan immediately took it out and slid it on his finger. Brendon wasn’t sure if Ryan knew the significance of the placement according to Human tradition, because he put it on Brendon’s wedding finger.
Brendon almost wanted to refuse it because, well, it was a little desperate of Ryan, saying ‘no, you can’t be a part of what I do, but here’s a consolation prize.’ Only Ryan was clearly trying to please him, to show him something, and Brendon didn’t want to hurt him. They had to learn how to make this work without hurting each other. So he left it there, and maybe he liked the feel of it, even if it wasn’t the same as an earring.
They eventually made their way into the back room. Spencer had made tea and they’d moved on from discussing politics to a play Ginger and Mister Smith had seen recently on Bajor. Spencer and Jon were sitting close together on the small sofa and Ginger took the only chair besides the one Mister Smith was already sitting on. Brendon vacillated for a second before Spencer reached out and grabbed his hips. He tugged him over, putting Brendon half in his lap, half in Jon’s. Ryan, smirking at him, perched more daintily on Spencer’s other knee. The Smiths didn’t even flinch.
“You showing them my earring?” Spencer asked.
Ryan nodded. “It’s really nice,” Brendon said.
“Yeah? So when do I get it?” Spencer traced little circles on the small of Brendon’s back in an absent way. It made Brendon want to stretch and purr and stay in Spencer’s lap forever.
“It’s still missing a few touches,” Ryan said, vague and enigmatic.
“Brendon,” Mister Smith said, “Spencer tells me you’re learning to play the belaklavion.”
“Oh,” Brendon started, fidgeting and looking down at his hands. “I was just messing a—” Spencer pinched his hip and Jon laid a hand over his, stopping his restless movements.
“He’s really good,” Ryan said earnestly, eyes wide. “I mean, he plays it better than some people who’ve studied it, for, like, years. He just picked it up and started doing stuff, new stuff, before I even showed him anything.”
“It’s not a big deal,” Brendon protested. “I learned how to play guitar when I was young. It’s similar, you know. I was just applying the same principle.”
Ginger gave him that same assessing look she’d given them all before. “You should play something. You and Ryan, together.”
He tried to protest again, but Ryan would hear none of it. They went together back to Ryan’s quarters, and that got them more than a few weird looks. Apparently Ryan’s dislike of Starfleet was well known, and seeing him walk down the Promenade with an arm around Spencer’s waist and his hand in Brendon’s raised some questions. Mutters followed them all the way, but Brendon didn’t particularly care what they thought, and Ryan held his head high like he didn’t notice.
Ryan kept several instruments from Bajor. In addition to the belaklavion, he had another two stringed instruments, three different air instruments and a small percussion instrument. According to Ginger and Mister Smith, Spencer knew how to play a few of them as the Ih’valla liked to be diverse. One day, Brendon was going to have to get him to play with them. For now, he was content to play with Ryan. He let Ryan start playing and just joined in, improvising, and it was nice, to play without any expectations, without his parents waiting for him to either excel or fail at it.
Later Ginger made lunch and they sat around the table just talking, and it was so easy. Of course things had been easy when it was just them, because they fit, but Spencer’s parent’s were so laid back and relaxed. Talking to them was fun, especially when, despite the protests from Spencer and Ryan, they began telling the crazier stories from their youth.
Mister Smith told a hilarious story from just the previous summer on Bajor, when he and Ginger had first moved to the planet’s surface. Spencer and Ryan had come for a couple of weeks to help fix up a few things. Their plan to refinish the cabinets ended in the cabinet doors having to be removed after becoming warped and no longer fitting their frames. Mister Smith promised to send pictures of the painting incident, where more paint ended up in Ryan’s hair and on Spencer’s face than on the walls. When they’d pitched in with the landscaping and stripped a huge patch of grass down to the dirt, Ginger had drawn the line and they’d been relegated to the simple tasks of weeding the gardens and hanging the pictures.
“It’s much nicer, now,” Ginger said. “Even the lawn has had time to recover.” Spencer rolled his eyes.
“You should come visit,” Mister Smith said. “All of you, when you get the chance.”
“I’ve never been to Bajor,” Jon said.
“Well, it’s no Risa, to be sure,” Mister Smith said.
“Risa isn’t that special,” Jon assured him. He had the self-deprecating smile that he’d had the first time Brendon had met him and that he’d thought was charming. Now it sort of made him pissed off that someone had sometime made Jon feel bad about being Risian. Jon was so easy-going that whatever had happened had to have been bad.
Brendon looked at Ryan, because yeah, he’d like to go to Bajor and stay with Spencer’s parents. Maybe he’d get an idea of what parents were supposed to be like. But it had to be up to Ryan. Ryan shrugged. “It could be fun,” he said casually. “Maybe when you have a couple days off in a row we could get a shuttle down.”
Spencer beamed at them. “You guys can meet Crystal and we can go to the Holona River and the temple.” He sounded almost like a child with his excitement. It was infectious, made Brendon bounce in eagerness. He’d look at his extended duty schedule as soon as possible so they could plan a time to go.
After Spencer’s parents left Brendon was worried it might be awkward. On Pete’s station they’d been happy to see each other, and, well, drunk and horny. Now, they were back and there wasn’t anyone left around to whom they had to prove a point.
Jon pretty much put those fears to an end by instigating a group make-out session on the sofa. It was a little weird, figuring out where everyone fit. Ryan was all bony angles and Spencer was tall and curvy and Jon was short but surprisingly hard with muscle, and Brendon had never fit right with any of the people he’d slept with before, girls or guys. This…worked. There were some elbows in throats and accidental licking of eyes, but between the laughter and play fighting that ensued, it worked.
They remained in a pile, sharing languid kisses and caresses without the same urgency as the night before. There was the promise of it in the tilt and slide of hips and hands finding their way beneath clothing, but Brendon was just content laying here making out all day and his…lovers…fine, yes, lovers, seemed happy to go along with it.
Jon made them all watch stupid movies that he’d seen with The Academy. Ryan kept rolling his eyes and trying not to laugh. Brendon could tell by the tugging at the corners of his lips. Brendon and Spencer didn’t care, and Brendon wouldn’t have thought that Spencer would be the type to go for body humour, but it was fun, to just press their shoulders together and laugh until it hurt.
Brendon insisted they replicate pizza and popcorn and soda for dinner so that they had an authentic, Earth movie-watching experience, since four out of the five movies were from Earth (and Brendon decided he was just going to blame the weird Earth entertainment obsession on some Q-quirk of Pete’s).
Spencer was delighted by the fizziness of the soda, but it kept making Ryan sneeze, which made Jon ask Ryan if they’d accidentally got him pregnant last night. Ryan made this big deal out of eating the pizza, peeling off all the toppings, then licking off the sauce in a sort of obscene way that had them all staring at him with open mouths and glazed eyes. When Brendon kissed him after he tasted like the cherry of the soda and mozzarella and Ryan laughed and turned away from the kiss quickly to sneeze.
Brendon pressed his face into Ryan’s shoulder and laughed. Jon poked Ryan in the stomach and said, “You are so carrying our love children.”
“Fuck off, Walker,” Ryan grumbled, but he was blushing. Brendon wanted kids. Some distant, far, far, far away day, after a lot more sex and not having kids. But even though Jon was joking, it was kind of neat, thinking about it.
“Don’t even look at me like that,” Ryan told him warily. “I’m so not the girl here. It would ruin my figure. If Jon wants a love child, he can have it.”
After dinner, Spencer challenged Jon to a rematch of their chess game from before they’d left. Though, when Brendon glanced over every now and then, this version of the game involved some sort of weird kisses-for-pieces trade. Brendon might have been interested in joining, but Ryan still had the instruments out and started showing Brendon some more advanced parts on the belaklavion. He kept helping Brendon rearrange his fingers, sliding closer and closer until he was practically in Brendon’s lap. He either ignored or didn’t notice that Brendon was still in uniform, but once, the little clear stone on the ring Ryan had given him glinted as he played and Ryan picked up his hand, kissing the finger.
Then Brendon chanced another look at the others, and somehow, entirely without attracting his attention, Spencer had got on his knees between Jon’s legs. Jon’s head was thrown back and his dick was in Spencer’s mouth. Brendon’s breath caught at the sight and he went hard pretty much at once.
Ryan followed his gaze, watching and pressing his lips to Brendon’s knuckles. His teeth nipped at the sensitive skin between Brendon’s fingers, tongue flicking out in little teasing swipes. It was a simple touch, but it shot up his arm and tickled at the back of his neck. Somehow they went from holding the instruments and sitting beside one another to Ryan giving up on pretence and climbing completely into his lap, the belaklavions being set aside, mouths open and hungry.
“Brendon,” Ryan panted into him. Brendon looked up at him, their foreheads pressed together. Ryan’s eyes were squeezed shut tight. He opened them again and leaned back purposefully. His fingers traced down Brendon’s jaw, over his neck. He tapped a nail against the pip on Brendon’s collar. “Show me how to take this off.”
“Here.” Brendon took their joined hands to the edge of his jacket, helping him find the hidden fastening. Together they separated the pieces. Ryan smoothed his hands up Brendon’s chest, pushing the jacked over his shoulders and down his arms, throwing it aside. His fingers scrambled at Brendon’s waist, tugging the turtleneck free and pulling it up. Brendon raised his arms to help him get it off.
“Seriously,” Ryan muttered, when he reached the tank top beneath. “How many layers can you possibly need?” Brendon chuckled, kissed him and pulled away just long enough to get the tank over his head and for Ryan to get his one and only shirt off.
Their lips met again and Ryan’s hands strayed back to Brendon’s waistband, tickling the skin just inside. He found the fastening there himself, peeling it apart. “Starfleet underwear, Urie?” he teased.
“Bite me, Ross, it’s regulation,” Brendon said and hissed when Ryan did bite him, just under his jaw. He was going to have to get a dermal regenerator to keep on hand, living with these three, and their tendency to mark him.
They managed to get Brendon naked through a combination of wiggling and lifted hips. Ryan got off his lap long enough to shimmy out of the rest of his clothes, too. He settled back down, sliding their hips together.
At some point, far later in the evening, all four found their way into the bedroom. Brendon had never been in it before, and it would definitely need a bigger bed (though he wasn’t going to complain about being pressed tight between Spencer and Ryan with Jon’s legs tangled through). Still, Brendon liked it. Ryan mumbled to the computer, telling it to wake them in time for Brendon to get up for duty.
Ryan had completely done away with the grey everything and replaced it with warm yellows, golds and oranges. It was peaceful and rich looking. He’d blocked out the windows with Roman blinds, but on the ceiling were dimly sparkling lights. They provided less illumination than actual stars, and weren’t in any particular pattern, but they cast a soft glow over Spencer’s face that made him look even more beautiful than usual.
He kept watching him until he was having trouble keeping his eyes open. Jon’s thumb was rubbing gently up and down his arm; Ryan’s breath was hot on the back of Brendon’s neck every time he exhaled and his arm was snug around Brendon’s waist. “Go to sleep, Bren,” Spencer muttered without opening his eyes, voice slurred with sleep. “We’ll still be here tomorrow.”
That wasn’t even the problem. He knew they would be. He wasn’t worried. He could have worried about a lot of things, like what his parents would say when he spoke with them next, or what exactly Dax and Sisko had in mind for him, or whatever. But he wasn’t worried about this. And the rest of it seemed small in comparison.
He just wanted to see Spencer, because he’d gone twenty-two years without seeing him, and it was too long. No matter how much time they had, it wouldn’t be enough to see the curve of Spencer’s lips, or the black of Ryan’s lashes against the pale of his cheek, or the way Jon’s hair fell over his forehead, giving away glints of gold.
Brendon never remembered his dreams.
Φ
Ryan half-woke when Brendon silenced the computer’s alarm and was aware of Brendon and Spencer untangling themselves from Ryan and Jon, trying to be quiet and careful about it. Spencer didn’t have to be at work until 0900, but he did better on little sleep than Ryan did, and he heard him say something to Brendon about getting breakfast together.
Jon mumbled in his sleep and rolled over, snuggling into Ryan’s side. The shower started running and the sound of it soothed him back into a light sleep. Water-cooled lips pressed against his temple and at the corner of his mouth and Ryan smiled at the touches, because he knew which belonged to Spencer, and which to Brendon, just from the pressure and the texture of each.
When he woke for real, it was to Jon’s hands pushing up his sleep shirt, and his mouth was hot on Ryan’s stomach, sucking at his navel, licking and biting ‘til Ryan was panting. He arched his back, lifted his hips, tried to be subtle about it. But Jon bit the waistband of his pants and tugged a little, looking at Ryan from under his lashes, eyes devious.
“Please,” Ryan whispered, and his voice sounded hoarse and alien. He put his hand in Jon’s hair, not pushing…well, maybe a little. “Please, Jon.”
That was what he’d been waiting for. He dipped his head lower, rubbing his nose against Ryan’s erection through the thin material of his pants, opened his mouth, breath damp and hot.
“Shit.” Ryan fingers tightened in Jon’s hair and Jon started mouthing him through his pants and there was the added friction. Jon kept sucking until his pants were soaking wet and Ryan started keening. He didn’t really care if he sounded desperate.
Jon lifted his head just enough to look at him, straining against the tug in his hair. He grabbed the waistband, pulling it down, catching on Ryan’s dick and Ryan hurried to help him get rid of the pants. “Now,” Jon said, voice light. “This is my first time giving a blowjob, so you’ll need to let me know if I’m doing it wrong.”
And fuck, Ryan needed time to think about and process that, because he was incredibly turned on and everything, but there was never going to be another first time, and he felt a little guilty taking it without Brendon and Spencer.
Then Jon started licking at the head of his cock and he remembered that he’d just watched while Brendon and Spencer had fucked Jon for the first time, so he so totally deserved this. There could be a re-enactment later. It would be awesome.
Later, boneless and content, they cuddled together, and maybe Jon was just the sort of person who allowed him to be honest, or maybe Ryan was, like, growing as a person or something, but it didn’t hurt to give away the personal thoughts that came to him. “I hate living on this station,” he grumbled. Not in a hate-my-life sort of way, but in a general sort of bitching way.
“Whyzat?” It was like open-mouthed kisses against his skin. Ryan smiled and let his fingers toy in Jon’s hair.
“I miss waking up and having light creep around the blinds. Or being able to tell the time from the way the room grows dim.” It wasn’t that Ryan disliked outer space, really. There wasn’t any planet with which he felt a connection, no place in particular he wanted to live. Still, this particular station came with its own special set of issues, being the place where he and Spencer and his family had been kept as slaves. He didn’t even mind saying as much to Jon, who just listened and hummed in agreement and stroked his hands over Ryan’s arms and sides.
They finally tumbled out of bed sometime in the early afternoon and went to drag Spencer off to lunch. Spencer took one look at them and knew what they’d been doing. “You’re such a whore, Ross,” he said.
“Yeah, well, don’t think I don’t know what you were doing with Brendon in the shower this morning,” Ryan said loftily.
Jon left him after lunch, and no amount of clinging and slow kisses could persuade him to go with Ryan back to one of their quarters. “I’m supposed to be working with an Engineer on the Promenade; we’re doing some work on some of the shops. I have to earn my keep, you know.”
“I’ll keep you,” Ryan said, with what he hoped was a seductive smile.
“I’m no one’s kept man, Ross,” Jon said. He gave him a smile like a slow burn and tugged Ryan by the hips for another kiss. “Why don’t you go bother Brendon? He should be getting off soon.” The words might have stung if Jon hadn’t said them with such affection.
The store was crowded; friends of Ginger’s and Spencer’s visiting, curious Bajorans who’d heard about Ryan’s confinement and subsequent escape. Even just walking down the Promenade, Ryan had heard the rumours and questions following him. DS9 was at maximum capacity population wise—however, that only meant roughly 7,000 people, and word carried fast. He didn’t have any plans to hide his relationship, but he didn’t particularly feel like announcing it to everyone, or anything. Everyone apparently didn’t care about his intentions, desperate for the slightest bit of news.
He managed to work for a couple hours, working on new pieces and shooting death glares at anyone who directed any less-than-professional inquiries his way. Spencer was great about deflecting the rumourmongers. Ryan felt a happy, content little glow every time Spencer did it; Ryan didn’t know what a real father was supposed to be like, but Spencer was a nice substitute.
As 1500 approached, he started getting anxious. He would have liked to just stay put and have Brendon come to him. He wanted a do-over. He wanted Brendon to just stroll in casually like he had before, and then Ryan wouldn’t freak out. At the same time, he really didn’t feel like causing a scene for all the customers. He sent a wave to Brendon’s shift station. Meet me a Quark’s when your shift is finished.
Brendon had changed. Ryan would have felt guilty about that except that Brendon usually changed, which explained why it had taken Ryan so long to figure out he was with Starfleet. Besides, as much as he wanted to prove a point, Brendon looked a lot more comfortable in his tight jeans and purple zip-up jacket. He waved when he saw Ryan and began weaving through the crowd to reach him.
“Hey,” he leaned over the table to kiss Ryan’s upturned face. He did it in a completely thoughtless sort of way—like he just wanted to kiss Ryan, not like he felt he had anything to prove to anyone. “Where’s Jon?”
“Doing work,” Ryan said, faux-scorn.
“Geez, what a loser.” Brendon rolled his eyes. His foot nudged Ryan’s under the table. Taking a leaf from Jon’s book, he was wearing sandals, and his toes quickly found their way inside the leg of Ryan’s pants, tickling the bare skin of his ankle. Ryan bit his lip against a smile.
“So, what did Sisko want from you?” Ryan asked. Brendon had mentioned it in passing the night before, and looked so excited and nervous that Ryan had to be interested on his behalf or he’d be the worst boyfriend ever.
Brendon shook his head. “Later. I can’t talk about it here. Besides, Jon and Spence should hear it, too.”
Over Brendon’s shoulder, Ryan saw a wave of Starfleet uniforms enter the bar. Probably on the same shift as Brendon. Only a couple of them broke off from the crowd and headed toward their table. Cold dread settled in Ryan’s blood.
“Urie.” The Bolian helped herself to the seat on Brendon’s left, and maybe all Starfleet officers were just that bold. She eyed Ryan like he was some wild, unpredictable animal. “Ross,” she greeted.
“I’m sorry,” Ryan said coolly. “I’m afraid I haven’t had the pleasure.” He tried to keep his distaste out of his tone.
“Ryan,” Brendon said. He looked between Ryan, the Bolian and the other two officers. “This is Ensign Dorios, Lieutenant Remsal and Ensign Colleen.”
“Way to get kidnapped during your first week,” Dorios said to Brendon, and Ryan bristled, even though she was obviously joking.
Brendon just gave them a little self-deprecating smirk. “Yeah. Good thing Ryan came after me,” he said. He snatched Ryan’s hand off the table, holding it tight in his. He gave him an inexplicably smug look.
“Seriously,” Colleen said. “Leave it to Starfleet to lock up someone who actually cares and wants to help instead of doing something useful.” She was a sweet-looking Bajoran with pale hair and bright eyes, and Ryan would never stop being confused by Bajoran Starfleet officers.
“Um.” Ryan shifted uncomfortably. He was used to being the only person around who would criticise Starfleet. “Yeah.” Colleen gave him a sparkling smile at that.
Remsal had asked Brendon a question full of long scientific terms that Ryan didn’t even remotely understand, and now they and Dorios were discussing it together. Colleen, dressed in yellow, either didn’t follow it or didn’t care, because she kept her attention on Ryan. “I heard you were working on some new designs,” she said.
“What?” He cut his gaze to her briefly before looking back at Brendon.
“The new earrings you’re making,” Colleen clarified. He looked at her again, longer this time. He recognised her earring as one of the special designs he’d created when he’d first taken over the shop.
“Oh,” he said dumbly. “Yeah.”
“I think it sounds like a really interesting idea,” Colleen said. “I feel weird, sometimes, wearing this.” She fingered the design, indicating the Mi’tino landowners and merchants. “I mean, it doesn’t have anything to do with who the Colleen family are any longer. My father was a general during the Occupation; I’m with Starfleet, you know?”
Ryan kind of did. He nodded his head warily. She was going to say something stupid or offensive any minute now, and then he was going to have to be a bitch, and it would embarrass Brendon and be awful. Only, she didn’t say anything stupid or offensive. She just kept being irrepressibly sweet and occasionally funny as she went on the tell him just what she’d like her earring to represent, and stemming from that, her interests and why she’d joined Starfleet, which maybe wasn’t as understandable or acceptable as Brendon’s reasoning, but still okay.
Just the five of them sitting around was okay. Brendon kept Remsal and Dorios distracted, though Dorios had traded a few words with Ryan and she seemed okay, too, if a little gossipy. At least she hadn’t said anything about Ryan and Brendon’s relationship. But after a while, several other officers entered and from the calling of names and greetings, it was clear they were friends of those at the table. Ryan’s hand tightened reflexively. Four Starfleet officers at the table he could stand, if one of them was Brendon and the other was Colleen. But ten was never going to happen.
Brendon squeezed his hand back. As if reading his mind, he cleared his throat and said, “You know, we have to meet Jon and Spence, soon. I’ll see you guys tomorrow?”
Dorios gave him a little wave. Colleen put a hand on Ryan’s shoulder and he was very proud with himself for not flinching. “Can I come by your shop some time? Look over ideas?”
Ryan nodded, mouth dry. He could feel Brendon watching him, so he made himself reach out a little. “I can try a few sketches with what you’ve told me.”
Colleen gave another one of her big smiles. “Great. I’ll send you a wave.”
Brendon held his hand all the way to the lift and once they were inside and away from all the prying eyes of the Promenade, Ryan gave in and put his head on Brendon’s shoulder. He felt shaky and weird. “I don’t want to do that again,” he said into the fabric of Brendon’s uniform. Brendon put an arm around him, hand steady and reassuring on his back. “Maybe one at a time.”
“You don’t have to see any of them,” Brendon said. He pressed a kiss on Ryan’s hair.
“It’s okay,” Ryan said, although he wasn’t entirely sure it was. Still, he had to try. “Colleen was…nice. And Dorios and Remsal don’t seem awful.”
Brendon squeezed his waist, steering him down the hall. Ryan realised he was being led to Brendon’s quarters. He didn’t really care which of their rooms they ended up in, but he distinctly remembered Brendon saying something in bed last night, about staying in Ryan’s.
“I just want to get some stuff to bring to your place,” Brendon said. He sounded inexplicably nervous. “Some different clothes, you know, and my pillow and…I mean, if you don’t care.”
Ryan laughed. It was ridiculous, how adorable Brendon’s insecurity was. He’d been so bold before they were lovers. Still was in lots of little ways that he probably didn’t notice. “Brendon.” He stopped Brendon outside the door. “Our place. Mine and Spencer’s and Jon’s. And yours.” Brendon hung his head.
“Why are you being so weird about this?” Ryan asked, smile faltering.
“I just. I haven’t had a lot of relationships, and none of them ended well, and I tried this moving-in thing once and it didn’t work out at all, and I’m not really looking forward to the part where you burn all my stuff and kick me out and tell me you never want to see my face again, and then spread all sorts of horrible rumours about me,” Brendon said, all in one rushed breath.
“You’re stupid,” Ryan said fondly. “That isn’t going to happen with us. I’ve never gotten to the moving-in point, because it’s never been right. We’re right. And you know, you don’t even have to call it ‘moving in’ if you don’t want, but do you seriously think that me, or Jon, or Spencer are going to let you get out of bed in the middle of the night to come back here? Because that’s stupid.” He kicked Brendon’s ankle.
Brendon chuckled softly, a little sadly. “Okay. I’m stupid. I’ll try to stop. It might take a while.” Ryan hated the negativity and hopelessness in Brendon’s tone. That was Ryan’s deal, and he was good at handling it in himself, but in someone he loved, he just felt useless.
“Come on,” Ryan said, tugging on his hands. “Let’s get your stuff. Spencer will be getting off work soon and he can help me convince you of your stupidity.”
The door opened and Brendon stopped short halfway through the room. There was a man in casual Cardassian clothing standing by the window. He turned to look at them and Ryan could guess from his features and fashion that he had to be Clark Urie. And, okay, maybe he was ready for meeting one or two of Brendon’s friends from work, but he was totally unprepared for family. Especially when Brendon’s family were like, the Starfleet model. And especially when the family member in question happened to be the ambassador to the Cardassians.
“Clark,” Brendon said. He dropped Ryan’s hand, and that stung.
“Brendon,” Clark said. He held out his arms and Brendon hugged him quickly, perfunctorily. “And…”
“Ryan,” Brendon said.
“Maybe I should go,” Ryan said. He turned and Brendon didn’t try to stop him.
Clark said, “Ryan. Mom and Dad mentioned something about you.” Ryan looked at him over his shoulder and thought it would be nice if he just shut up. Then he smiled at Brendon. “And two other guys.”
Brendon flushed and scowled. It wasn’t in a nice way. “Mom and Dad can go to hell. What, did they send you here to try and set me straight, or something? Be a mouthpiece for some more of their hypocritical, speciesest ideas about relationships?”
“That was the idea,” Clark said. He had an easy, laid-back way about him. “I came as soon as I heard you were missing and since I was the closest, they thought I was the best option. I told them they could go to hell. Only, not in those terms. Nor, apparently, quite as colourfully as you did. Which, by the way, Jarod and Kara would like me to pass on a ‘good job.’”
“What?” Brendon asked dumbly. Ryan turned fully around to watch them. He touched Brendon’s shoulder lightly and Brendon tensed at first, but he relaxed quickly.
“Seriously, Brendon, did you think I was coming here to yell at you?” Clark looked bewildered. “You were missing. I was worried. I was already almost here when I heard you were back, and it’s been a while since I’ve seen you. So I just came anyway. And I really don’t care how many people you’re seeing. I’m getting married to a Cardassian, so I guess I just have to thank you for giving Mom and Dad something bigger to bitch about so they finally got off my case.”
Brendon flinched a couple of times, like he didn’t know how to take it. “Aridanna’s actually going to marry you?” he said finally.
“Aridanna?” Ryan said. He hadn’t meant to. He’d meant to stay quiet and maybe sneak out or something. “That’s a Bajoran name.”
Clark looked at him. “Aridanna was born during the Occupation,” he said. “She’s half Bajoran. Does that make it better?”
Ryan opened his mouth to say something then shut it with a snap. Brendon scowled at his brother. “Don’t be a dick,” he said.
“He’s the one judging me for marrying a Cardassian,” Clark shot back.
Ryan stiffened all over. “Can you blame me?”
“Pretty much, yeah. How’s you hating a person just ‘cause they’re Cardassian any different from my parents hating you just because you’re sleeping with my brother?” Clark challenged.
“Clark!” Brendon shouted.
“Anyway, whatever. I didn’t come here to cause a problem,” Clark said.
“It’s alright,” Ryan said, surprising even himself, because he found it was the truth. “I’m sorry. I really should go.”
“Please,” Brendon said. He caught Ryan’s hand again and didn’t let go, even when Ryan tugged.
“Ryan,” Clark said. “I don’t want to fight with you. If you’re important to Brendon, you’re important to me. I wanted to meet you. And the others.”
“I…” Ryan swallowed around the lump in his throat. “I—the Occupation sort of fucked with my ability to be rational about things.”
“Understandable,” Clark said. “If it helps, I chose Cardassia as my focus so I could make sure nothing like the Occupation would ever happen again.” Ryan nodded shakily. Clark didn’t owe him that much—hell, he didn’t owe him any sort of explanation at all.
“Are your other boys going to hate me more or less, like, on a scale? Ten being hate a lot,” Clark asked.
Ryan, damn it, couldn’t fight it. He laughed, maybe, just a little. “Jon and Spence are way easier than me,” he said.
Clark gave him a smile. “Thank god.” He looked at his brother. “Will you have dinner with us? Aridanna and I have the ambassador’s quarters on the Valiant. They’re pretty huge. I think we could all fit comfortably.”
Brendon gave him a questioning look, putting it in Ryan’s hands. Ryan hated it, but he felt ridiculous. Clark probably thought he was little better than a child throwing a temper tantrum. He could do better—with the Starfleet thing, with Brendon’s family, with Cardassians in general—he would do better.
“Dinner sounds lovely,” Ryan said.
Clark left them after deciding on meeting at 1900 for dinner. “You didn’t have to,” Brendon started. “I mean, you still don’t, not if you’re not comfortable.”
“What, and let you all go without me? Brendon, I’m in this as much as Spencer and Jon are. And besides, I want to have dinner with them. He seems…What he said, about the people important to you being important to him? Me, too. I feel that way, too. And it wasn’t like he wasn’t right about me. I can be an asshole.”
Saying things like that was getting easier and easier. He still couldn’t believe that it had been less than a month ago that he’d been living out of the jewellery store, spending hours researching stories and the rest of his time working on designs for the shop. When Spencer had to force him to go out, and remind him to eat and had pretty much given up on making Ryan share any of what was going on in his head. It was sort of amazing and a little scary, how fast it had all changed, and was still changing.
“Are you going to freak out on me?” Brendon asked, and Ryan wondered how long he’d been silent. “Come on, let’s go get Spencer and he can tell us both how stupid we’re being.”
The kiss Brendon gave him was slow and tender. He tasted like whatever he’d been drinking at Quark’s, sugary and fruity with a sharp bite of mint. “We’re really lucky that Jon and Spencer combined have about a quarter of our issues.” Brendon smiled against Ryan’s pulse.
He didn’t mean to, really, but Brendon’s lips against his neck made his breath go quick and then they were stumbling to the bed, tearing off clothes as they went. “Pink satin, Brendon?” Ryan teased as he fell back on the comforter. Brendon shut him up with another kiss, pressing him back.
By the time they got dressed (Ryan slipping on a pair of Brendon’s jeans, and those were really comfortable, if a little short and loose), it was past time for Spencer to be off, and when they found him in his quarters, Jon was already with him. Spencer was weird about dinner, but Ryan knew it was on his behalf.
All the same, despite his reservations and Spencer’s, dinner went really well. Aridanna was pleasant and fiercely intelligent and yeah, it was hard, sitting across the table from someone who, from all outward appearances, was Cardassian. She had been raised by a Cardassian mother on Cardassia Prime, and in some ways she was very much like the Cardassians that Ryan had known, who had been his masters. But then she started talking about all the policies she was working on to change, and revealed that her mother had been a supporter of Bajorans. She’d helped them even before the end of the Occupation, and had taught her daughter to respect all life. It was strange, to hear lessons like that being taught from one Cardassian to another.
Clark, when he wasn’t being confrontational, was a pretty decent man. He was fairly easy going, in ways different from his brother, but he didn’t so much bat an eye when introduced to Spencer and Jon. Then, after dessert, when they were all just sitting around, he carried on a two hour conversation with Jon about warp cores and energy cells and biometrics. If left Ryan’s head spinning with confusion, and even Brendon’s eyes got glazed over, but Jon really enjoyed it.
In bed that night, Ryan lay sweaty and slightly sore and listened to Spencer and Brendon fall asleep quickly, thinking. “Okay?” Jon asked sleepily. His hands never stopped roaming down Ryan’s arm.
Surprising, it wasn’t a lie when Ryan smiled and said, “Yeah. Terrific.” And, it earned him a kiss.
Next Chapter:
http://moku-youbi.livejournal.com/2944.html
