The BLTS Archive - Hint of The Century 2
I Never Had It Like This
by Ruth Gifford (ereshkgl@cyberg8t.com)

---

This is a sequel to my story "The Hint of the Century."  It takes
place a good many years after that story, in fact it takes place
roughly five or six months after the events of "First Contact."  So
what, you ask, about "The Q and the Gray?"  Sorry, I can't hear you, I
have an attitude in my ear (that's Ruth for, "it never happened"). 
Unlike "Hint," this story has sex in it.  It's also the middle story
in a series and suffers to a certain degree from the "questions raised
and then not answered" syndrome. Feedback is welcome, both on the ng
or via e-mail.  OK to archive in the asc/ascem archive, the afq
archive and R'rain's slash archive.  A big "Thank You!" goes out to
Atara for her proofing, and Varoneeka for her beta-reading.

Once upon a time there was a great and powerful entity know as
Paramount-Viacom, Inc which did create the popular culture juggernaut
known as Star Trek.  They were wise in the ways of casting and knowing
in the ways of marketing, and there was happiness upon the land.  But
lo, the years went by and it came to pass that the people did come to
realize that the mighty Paramount and all its writers, who were so
clever in the creation of aliens and so cunning in the joining
together of plot lines, did not know squat about the ways in which
members of the same gender do come together for the making of whoopie. 
And there were lamentations upon the land.  And finally the people did
say unto one another, "oh fuck it, let's write it ourselves, lest we
grow gray and aged before we see any guys doing guys in the realms of
Trek."  And as their foremothers had written the K/S, some of them did
write the C/P or the P/K or the G/B.  And lo there were those among
these brave souls who did dare to write of the ways in which gals
do gals and they did write the J/T, or the K/D or the C/T.  And there
were those among the slashers (for so they were called in that land)
who did say, "Q looks on Picard with eyes that are hot with lust," and
so they did write about the captain and the entity.  But lo, none of
them did forget that they labored in the valley of the shadow of the
copyright laws, and none of them did dare to make profit from their
smutty writings.  And there was a truce of sorts between the slashers
and the mighty Paramount.  And there was much rejoicing.  Thus endth
the lesson.

For atara, who puts up with silliness like the above.  Greater love
hath no woman . . .

(c) 1997

---
"A demon's day in madness kissed I swear I never had it like this
Forbidden yet I cannot resist

With fever I persist
The rages of your kiss
My reckless heart in fist
And I cannot resist"

Resist by Melissa Etheridge
---

Jean-Luc Picard's nightmares were fading.  He had known that they
would.  A grueling two weeks spent in front of the Court of Inquiry
explaining his actions in going against orders and then taking the
Enterprise-E back into time had been followed by a grueling month
overseeing the Yard dogs at McKinley station as the Enterprise
underwent a thorough refit and overhaul. During all of this time,
Picard suffered through nightmares and worked them off in sessions
with Troi, and bouts of exhausting, numbing physical labor.

Now, it was over.  He'd not gone home to the estate; he couldn't do
that yet, but he had gone other places.  He'd visited Louis, and had
had spent a fascinating weekend clambering all over the smelly new
sub-continent of Atlantis with his old friend. He'd gone to three
plays, two operas, and had spent an utterly self indulgent weekend in
a remote village in the Alps, doing nothing but walking, reading and
playing his flute.  Then he'd reported back to work, accepted a
diplomatic assignment, followed by a survey mission and things seemed
very much the way they always had been. The dreams occurred less and
less and he soon stopped dreading sleep.

And now, about four months after leaving Earth, he'd started having
dreams again.  Not Borg nightmares this time, nor any other type of
dream serious enough to remain with him in the morning, but dreams of
an almost more frustrating kind.  For the first time in a long time,
Picard was having extremely erotic dreams on a very regular basis.  He
didn't remember any of the details, but they were enough to wake him
up, aroused and sweating, in the middle of the night. At first he
tried to ignore them and their effects, but after a few nights of
that, he gave in to the inevitable, and masturbated.  It helped in
that he was able to get back to sleep, but then couple of nights
later, there was another dream and another erection. 

Finally, after a couple of weeks of having the dreams every few
nights, he decided to see what he could remember of them.  He knew
various techniques for remembering one's dreams, and so one night, he
talked himself into a quiet trance and told himself that he would
dream and remember his dreams.

---

Four hours later, he sat bolt upright, very much awake.  "Q!"

"You rang?"  Q appeared after his words, bowing to Picard with an
elaborate flourish.

"Why are you doing this to me?"

"Blame me, go ahead, Mon Capitaine.  *Everything's* always *my*
fault." The entity, dressed as usual in a Starfleet captain's uniform,
sat down and then stretched out languidly on Picard's bed.  "Sorry
Jean-Luc, but it's not me this time.  I won't take the blame for what
your sordid, albeit interesting, subconscious has come up with."

"Then how do you know what I'm talking about?" Picard asked, his whole
body still humming from the dream.  At least he hoped it was the dream
he was still responding to and not Q's closeness.  With a flash of
insight, he realized that he'd been dreading this moment for a long
time now, although he wasn't sure how long.

"I felt it halfway across the galaxy.  It's sort of like trying to
ignore someone who's shouting at you from across a small room.  After
a while it's impossible.  Tonight you were really loud for some
reason."  Although Q spoke in a matter-of-fact voice, Picard felt his
face grow hot.  He had been loud in the dream and he hoped that wasn't
what Q was talking about.

"Really?"

"Really."  Neither of them said anything for a long time, and when
Picard finally looked at Q, he was surprised to see a thoughtful look
on the entity's face.

"I gather this doesn't come as a surprise to you."  Before Q could
answer, Jean-Luc gathered his courage and plunged ahead.  "How much
did you see?"

"I didn't *see* anything,  It's more . . . a feeling or a sensation .
. ." he paused, looking a little frustrated.  "Enough to get the gist
of the dream.  And, no, it wasn't exactly a surprise."

Q's words launched Picard out the bed.  "I'm sorry," he said, aware of
nothing but an intense desire to flee. 

"Sorry?"

"I don't like . . . I didn't want to . . . bother you with this.  It's
. . ." Picard drew a deep breath, squared his shoulders and turned to
look at Q and try apologize a little more gracefully.  "I should have
more control.   I shouldn't be forcing you to notice my unwanted
attraction to you."  He was pleased to get it all out in one sentence
although he realized that his voice was a little shaky.

"Unwanted?" Q said.  He moved off the bed and took several steps
toward Picard.  "Unwanted by whom?"

"Q," Picard said, trying to maintain his dignity, which wasn't easy
given that he was wearing his pajamas.  At least the erection was
gone. "I've never done this before but . . . please. . ." He paused
and then forged ahead.  "*Please* don't make fun of me over this. 
Show up on the bridge and call me an idiot in front of my crew, throw
me into a test I can't handle, but please . . . let this drop."  It
was hard, not as hard as the time he'd told Q he needed him to save
the Enterprise, but close to it.

"You misunderstood me Jean-Luc," Q said.  He'd stopped and was
standing a few meters away.  "I was asking you if you thought your
attraction to me was unwanted by *myself.*"  At Jean-Luc's look of
shock, the entity spread his hands.  "I've done all I could; I've kept
my distance and tried to behave myself around you.  Granted," he
added, a note of self-mockery in his voice, "I've felt like an idiot
and I *hate* feeling like an idiot, but . . ."  When Q paused, it
seemed to Picard that the entity was genuinely at a loss for words. 
"I wasn't going to push you, or even let you know that *I* knew until
*you* brought it up."

Q's hesitancy and the distance he kept made something tight relax in
Picard's chest.  He could feel himself steadying, almost as if he took
strength from Q's uncertainty.  "So what you're saying is that I'm not
the only one having these dreams?"

"The Q don’t exactly dream, Jean-Luc, but," and here Q smiled a
slightly wicked smile that created a different, and more welcome,
tension in Picard's chest, "we can fantasize with the best of them." 
He stretched out a hand toward the captain.  "Come here and I'll show
you a few of the tamer ones."

"Of course," Picard said, trying for a light tone of voice but sure he
merely sounded shaky.  He didn't move.  "We probably should start with
yours.  I doubt you could handle any of mine at all." 

He wasn't quite sure how it happened, but suddenly Q was right there
in front of him.  "You're awfully sure of yourself," the entity
drawled. Picard stared at him a moment, fighting the shortness of
breath as he realized how much Q's uniformed presence made him aware
of his own near nakedness.

Surprising himself, Picard reached out and gripped Q's arms, pulling Q
toward him until they were flush up against one another.  "We'll just
have to see if I have cause to be, won't we?"  And then, knowing that
he had to act now or lose his nerve, Jean-Luc dropped to his knees,
and reached for the front of Q's uniform.

"What . . .?" the startled entity blurted out even as Picard's hands
were freeing his erection.

Deciding that finesse could wait, Jean-Luc opened his mouth and slid
it all the way down over Q's straining erection.  It had been a while
since he'd done this, but if Q's strangled groan was any indication,
he hadn't lost his touch.  As he swirled his tongue around the rock
hard cock in his mouth, and Q got louder, Jean-Luc could feel himself
getting even harder. A moment later, Q was pulling away.  Confused,
Picard looked up to see Q staring down at him.  The entity raised his
hand, snapped his fingers and they were suddenly on the bed. 

"You might want to warn a person," Picard said dryly, noticing that
while he was still in his pajamas, Q was naked.

"This from the man who had my entire cock in his mouth in less than 10
seconds?"  Q reached out, put a hand on Picard's arm and tried to roll
on top of him.  Picard laughed and twisted slightly, ending up on top
of Q. 

"You seemed to like it."

"I . . ." Q began.  Picard cut off any more talking by bending down
and kissing the startled entity.  After a split second of hesitation,
Q was suddenly kissing him back, and Jean-Luc felt as if someone had
just energized his whole nervous system.  Q's kisses were perfect,
slightly rough, very demanding, and very, very deep.  A little dazed,
Picard gave as good as he got, insistently wrapping his tongue around
Q's while Q writhed under him.  Jean-Luc could feel the entity's
erection nudge against his own through the thin silk of his pajamas. 

Then there was a flash and the pajamas were gone, and there was
suddenly warm skin against warm skin.  Jean-Luc moaned into Q's mouth,
and twisted slightly until he could reach down and stroke Q's cock
without pausing their ravenous kiss.  Q pulled his mouth away briefly
to murmur, "yes . . " and then they were kissing again as Picard began
to move his hand in a careful rhythm.  Q bucked against him and tried
to speed things up, but Picard kept to a steady rhythm.  It proved to
be a mistake, as Q shoved up from the bed and rolled them both over
again. 

"We can fight to be on top all night, Mon Capitaine," the entity said
mockingly.  "Even if I stick to using only Human strength."

Picard laughed, and began to move under Q, rolling slightly until
their erections were rubbing together.  As he moved and began to moan
at the heavy pressure, Q closed his eyes and bent his head.  Jean-Luc
eagerly opened his lips when Q's mouth descended onto his and for a
long time there was nothing but the strong hard kisses and the equally
strong hard body moving against him.  He could feel Q's urgency and
knew that Q could feel his and suddenly being on top wasn't as
important as the sensations that were obviously ripping through both
of them. 

And then, they found just the right rhythm and just the right angle.
Picard closed his hands around Q's arms and clung with desperate
strength as Q pulled out of the kiss.  "Yes!" the entity yelled,  "Oh! 
Jean-Luc . . . so good!"

At the sound of that voice yelling his name, Picard convulsed under Q
and came with a long, drawn-out groan.  His orgasm triggered Q's
climax, and Q yelled his name again and bucked against him as he came. 

Panting, they lay against each other for a moment, and then Q rolled
to the side taking Jean-Luc with him.  There was a very small flash
and they were suddenly clean.  "Such a messy business, this sex
thing," Q drawled, disdainfully.

"I could tell how much you hated it," Picard said chuckling.

"I noticed that you didn't seem to like it either," Q said moving away
from Jean-Luc and reaching out to slowly brush a thumb across one of
his nipples.

"Of course I didn't," Picard replied, haughtily.  "I'm above that sort
of thing."  He reached out and began tracing Q's ear, trying to ignore
the heat that was spreading through his whole body from Q's light
touch. 

"I thought so.  Of course, you wouldn't even think about doing it
again." He lightly pinched the nipple, and Picard held back a gasp. 

Determined to get back at Q, the captain scraped down the side of Q's
neck with his fingernail, smiling when Q shivered.  "Not at all.  What
do you take me for anyway?"

"Oh, I respect you utterly," Q said.  His fingers move to the other
nipple and began toying with it rather roughly.  "I would never think
of shoving you over a piece of furniture and fucking you while making
you watch everything in a mirror."

"Well good, because I'm not that sort of starship captain."  Picard
managed a steady voice although what Q was doing was incredibly
distracting.  "And I'm certainly not the kind of starship captain who
would roll an entity on his back, tease his cock with my tongue until
he couldn't even speak clearly, and then tell him to finish himself
off while I watched."   Moving quickly, he reached down and caressed
Q's swelling penis.  Although Q pinched his nipple hard in return, the
entity couldn't entirely suppress the moan Picard's actions caused.

"I should hope not.  After all, it's not like I'm going to kneel naked
under your desk while you're in uniform and let you fuck my face."

"Oh . . . I'm glad to hear that."  Picard had to stop for a moment,
and close his eyes.  Q was still just playing with his nipples, but
between that and the dark voice that wrapped around him, he was in
exquisite agony. He retaliated by stroking Q's hard cock ever so
lightly with his fingertips, feeling triumph as the entity squirmed
and tried to get more. "And I'm sure you'll be glad to hear that I
have no intention of lying on my back, letting you shove my knees up
against my chest and move into me slowly while I beg for more."

Q groaned loudly at that.  "Now.  I have to do that to you now,
Jean-Luc."

"Point to me," Picard replied, laughing as he realized that he was
ready for another round.  "I could learn to like this sort of recovery
time."

"The hell with that," Q snapped, his voice thick with lust.  As he
spoke he shoved Picard onto his back.  "Will you really beg for it?"

"If you can make me," Picard challenged.

He learned that night that Q could make him beg.  He also learned that
if he fucked Q slowly and deliberately, the entity would cry and claw
at the bed and yell for Picard to do it more and harder and faster. 
The next night he learned that Q knew every single sensitive spot on
Picard's penis and that he was willing to spend time licking and
nibbling all of them. That same night, Jean-Luc learned that Q loved
to be kissed for a very long time while Picard's hand brought him off. 
And so it went, night after night, both of them learning what the
other liked.  Q dove into Picard's fantasies with abandon and easily
confessed the things he wanted from Picard.  Picard learned all the
advantages of having a Q for a lover, and he could tell that Q truly
enjoyed the wild variety of Human sex with a partner who was willing
to try anything. 

It was perfect, Picard thought one night as he waited on his bed for Q
to arrived.  Utterly perfect.  Q had told him last night that he
wanted Jean-Luc to replicate something, anything, that he wanted Q to
use on him. He was to assume the appropriate position and wait for Q. 
Now as Picard waited on his knees and elbows, thinking about the
leather strap that was next to him on the bed, he knew that Q would be
only too happy to beat him. *And tomorrow night,* he thought, "I'm
going to tie him to the bed and drip hot wax on him while he twists
and begs for it."

He thought of the dreams that had led to this, dreams that paled in
comparison with the reality of the games he played with Q.  Shifting
slightly to ease the burn of his muscles, he thought about how he
looked and how it would hurt tonight.  He thought about the
mind-blowing ecstasy that Q could induce and the entity's gratitude
for the overwhelming orgasms Jean-Luc gave him.  The perfect lover,
Picard thought contentedly.  *I have the perfect lover.*

---

The End