USS Galileo :: Episode 08 - NIMBUS - Two Blind Idiots - Part 1
Previous Next

Two Blind Idiots - Part 1

Posted on 18 Feb 2015 @ 5:57pm by Ensign K'os Beaumont & Petty Officer 3rd Class Ellsworth Hudson

4,236 words; about a 21 minute read

Mission: Episode 08 - NIMBUS
Location: USS Galileo - Deck 2, Mess Hall
Timeline: MD -03: 0225 hrs

PART ONE

K'os sat up in bed, letting out a horrible cry. His hand went to his forehead, rubbing away the what? Nightmare? He had no idea what a nightmare would feel like or even dreams in general for that matter, so he didn't have anything to compare it to; this certainly 'felt' like what a nightmare would feel like. His heart was racing as he tried desperately to hold on to the dream but it was like trying to hold on to soapy water. It was of course about Ellsworth. He couldn't get through a night without waking up because of thoughts of the Betazoid. He'd been on the ship now for a whole day and Ellsworth had not attempted to find him. He could feel his presence almost constantly, but that was it. He shouldn't have been surprised. K'os had kept his thoughts and feelings locked up and controlled since arriving, why would he not assume Ellsworth would do the same. Could Ellsworth do that too? There was a lot about the other man's abilities that he wasn't sure about.

Something tugged at his mind now though, and he suddenly felt as though the other man's presence was much closer than it had been when he fell asleep. It was late, but he knew he wouldn't be able to get back to sleep if he tried; K'os didn't sleep much these days. Swinging his legs over the bed, he stood and made his way to the entrance of his quarters. He hadn't been assigned a roommate yet, and he was glad for that. He was told he would be assigned one tomorrow. He was usually quite feverish during the evenings so he wore nothing but his PJ bottoms as he moved to the door. He put his ear to it, but couldn't hear anything.

With the push of a button, the door swooshed open and he stepped out into the corridor; being drawn out like a rope was attached to his chest. He had no idea what he was doing. Perhaps he was even still dreaming. It was like he was on autopilot. The Plak tow seemed to tug at the back of his mind the further down the corridor he got. It was like a red hot sexual madness that pushed him forward. Where was he going? It was like his legs were on automatic.

Ellsworth looked up from his bowl of triple chocolate ice cream and glanced toward the door. He'd come here to escape Oren's rhythmic breathing and the warmth of his body, which had started to drive him crazy in so many ways. The mess hall was always like a tomb at this hour, which was perfect. Gamma shift was busy working and everyone else was asleep. So it was in that absolute quiet that the telepathic disturbance had drawn his attention immediately: he was moving. Not just moving, but moving in this direction, one sure-footed step at a time.

When K'os had first arrived on the ship, the connection between them had just been an annoyance. If he concentrated hard enough he could tell where anyone was on the ship, so it was just like that except close enough to the surface to be almost omnipresent. And as time wore on, it grew worse. The night wasn't just sleepless but also restless, tossing and turning in his bunk, and together with the constant presence of K'os it was beginning to take its toll on his telepathic control.

But even if he'd been in complete control of his faculties, he couldn't stop thinking about him anyway. He would catch himself actively reaching out to see where the half-Vulcan was and then spend minutes, sometimes hours, daydreaming about what he was doing. In the darkness of the night, when he was sweating against the sheets in a cool room, his mind would turn to what he wanted him to do. They were dark and lascivious thoughts, the sort of things that were so depraved you never dared to say them out loud. But that, in turn, just led to self-loathing and hate. He'd combated most of that with thoughts of Oren, even tried to suppress his carnal desires with thoughts of Grayson's lean body, but they worked less and less often now. It terrified him but it had grown to the point where almost all he could think about - night and day - was touching K'os' hand and reigniting their link; his synapses had begun to absolutely scream for it, like those of a weak-willed addict whose poison of choice was close at hand.

With each slow, plodding step, K'os got closer and closer to the replimat. He wanted to stop and turn around; just return to his quarters and let Ellsworth try and forget about him. What did he think would happen if he opened the door to the replimat? That Ellsworth would forget about everything and just come rushing back into his arms? His mind, through the grogginess of sleep, struggled to keep his emotions at bay. K'os had left him. Without a word, or a goodbye. He simply couldn't have. Had he done so, everything would have been exposed. Ellsworth would have convinced him to not risk his life with an untested theory, and he would have gotten hurt convincing K'os. Even now, the burning desire and rage, while buried deep in his mind still reminded him of the perverse pleasure trapped under the surface. Like a beast wanting out of it's cage to hunt.

K'os suddenly stopped. Was this why he was doing this? Was he being driven to Ellsworth because of it? He blinked and had just suddenly realized he didn't stop soon enough and the door to the replimat had already opened. He stood in the entrance way, light from behind him would have back lit his shirtless frame from the Betazoid, hiding his look of horror.

Ellsworth had a white-knuckled grip on the spoon in his hand, as if it was a weapon or a lifeline to reality meant to keep the surreal moment at bay. He'd honestly thought he'd never see K'os again. Ever. The galaxy was incomprehensibly vast to a young man from the streets of Betazed and Starfleet only slightly less so; thousands of ships, tens of thousands of planets, and K'os had been set adrift among them only to wash back up on these shores.

Had Ellsworth brought him here from his quarters? Could he do that? He could only guess at the untapped potential in his mind, nestled deep and dormant in his paracortex. Did it speak, without his knowledge, through the bond they shared, like a siren's song? Did his traitorous mind seek to lure K'os into the shallows and dash them both against the rocks and see them drowned but drowned together? It seemed possible, even likely. He'd learned he couldn't trust his mind after K'os had first come aboard the ship, when he lay in Oren's arms but imagined them to be another's....

He opened his mouth to say something, but couldn't think of any fitting words. His mind felt like it was on the verge of ripping itself in half: one portion wanted to scream and rage, kick and spit, while the other just wanted to be back against that bare chest and move on as if the past weeks had never happened. If you spent so long in your conscious and subconscious pining after something and then it appeared before you, what was the madness that kept you from reaching out to take it? Was it pride or hubris or just plain stubbornness? The young Betazoid certainly had no short supply of all three.

"Do you want some ice cream?" Ellsworth finally asked, pushing the bowl across the table toward K'os' silhouette with trembling hands. He felt like the words betrayed him; they were simple on the face of it but carried deeper meaning. They said, 'Come closer to me.' They called out, 'Draw nearer and let me feel the warmth of your body.' They begged, 'Step into the light and let me see your face.'

At the words, a sob escaped as if he'd been punched in the stomach though the feelings associated were cut short by his willpower. K'os took a step forward, illuminating parts of his torso, but he stopped; his face remained hidden. His first instinct was to go to Ellsworth, to hold him as if he'd been commanded to by some force. While K'os had regained his grip over his emotions, Ellsworth's clashed and banged around chaotically in his skull. He felt his sadness, his fear, especially his anger. Tears, streamed down K'os' face as if he were the one abandoned. None of this was fair to Ellsworth. He had spent the better part of two months protecting his lover and those simple words uttered sent waves of guilt washing over him. No -- not guilt; guilt was what other people made you feel. K'os could never accuse Ellsworth of making him feel guilty. No, K'os felt shame. Deep, paralyzing shame. His eyes widened at the realization that he'd let go of his emotions. His chest began to rise and fall noticeably as he struggled to stem the coming flood. He stepped in to the light. His cheeks were wet, which highlighted the dark bags under his eyes. His usual pale skin looked almost grey. He looked strained.

"I--" Words failed him. He just simply walked towards the man, cautiously. As if the thing inside of him would burst out of his chest if he only came close enough. His breathing became more rapid the closer he got. He sat down, ignoring the ice cream. His grey-blue eyes never left Ellsworth's face.

Ellsworth had turned his face away, placing himself in profile to K'os. He couldn't stand to look at him for the obvious and not-so-obvious reasons. He was furious at him and trying to restrain it only made it worse, the sort of barely contained fury that caused your hands to shake from the strain. He'd convinced himself early that there was no excuse in the universe that could justify what K'os had done, though he wanted to hear it anyway. He needed it, and he needed it to be believable. He didn't just want to hear it but to hear it whispered into his ear, followed by an 'I love you' and 'We can be together again.'

His lip trembled. Stupid thoughts. They were the stupid thoughts of a stupid, naive, ignorant mind that had no respect for logic, reason, and self-preservation. His body betrayed him just as easily with flushed cheeks, tingling skin, and the low-lying sensation of being on the cusp of arousal. He was alone in fighting against K'os, alone in fighting against himself, but alone was a place he'd been before. He raised his chin and suddenly looked defiant, like he'd tapped into some well-spring of self-confidence. His lip and hands stopped trembling, but he still refused to turn and face K'os. He was strong, but he wasn't that strong.

Wordless conversations were the norm for the two telepaths. They had shared so many nights, where they communicated through their emotions and body language. Nothing could be hidden from each other without some mental effort. It was the nature of their bond. His eyes traced over defiant expression, and felt the fury under the surface like crackling static. He lifted his arm to reach out to him, but sudden fear made him pull it back. It was hard to focus clearly through his wet, and tired eyes, but he traced them across Ellsworth's trembling lips and chin as if he were doing so with his fingers. Please look at me. His mind demanded on its own. Just once.

Ellsworth wanted so badly to tell him not to touch him, to scream it into his mind. But just as strongly he wanted to tell him to do it, reach out with his fingertips and drag them against his skin and let it be the prelude to so much more. K'os' mental request bounced around in his head, and he weighed his options as if there wasn't a single inevitable conclusion. It felt like the nature of every sentient person to pretend to exercise choice and control in the face of the inevitable, and he was no exception.

The young Betazoid cut his eyes to the side at first, which gave him a blurry and distorted view of K'os. He thought maybe it was enough to satisfy the other man but found it wasn't enough to satisfy him. He was now the one that wanted to look at him, the one who craved more. It was torture, and he wanted it. It hurt him, and he desired it. It made him feel alive and held the promise of catharsis.

Ellsworth slowly turned his head and looked at K'os, met his eyes directly, and admitted to himself he would probably jump out of an airlock if the other had asked him to. He'd thought he might cry when he finally looked at him, but he didn't. He just felt a little entranced, like now that they were looking at each other he couldn't, under his own willpower, ever look away again. Until he saw the shame in those gray-blue eyes and remembered and his field of vision grew smaller as his eyes narrowed in sudden wrath.

Whether it was because of the late hour, and the grogginess, or the sudden piercing look beaming through to the center of his soul; his Vulcanoid heart beat so strong in the center of his chest, he thought he could hear the blood pumping through his veins. He stared into Ellsworth's black soulful, angry, eyes till all he could hear was his own thumping heartbeat. The Need started low in the pit of his abdomen. Growing stronger with each heartbeat. Every other emotion running through his mind dulled in comparison to the ringing hunger that began to ebb. A stray thought broke free, a vision, or perhaps a desire born from the blood fever tugging at his synapses. A sexual urge that came on so suddenly and strongly that it snapped K'os out of the trance, breaking eye contact with Ellsworth. His hand went to his forehead, and he attempted to back away from the Betazoid, as if he were the source. It made him stumble and knock his chair back as he staggered to his feet. He took a step back, looking away. He was so stupid to think he could just sit here like normal.

With panic in his eyes he spoke for the first time. "I love you, Ellsworth. Whatever you believe of me otherwise, you must know at least that." His voice was hoarse, and he coughed a little. "Please trust me." He breathed in deeply, the urge stopped intensifying, but it still ebbed through him. "I had to." That last part came out as a whisper.

Ellsworth felt it, too, and clamped down on it hard the moment he recognized it for what it was to keep it from growing and blossoming. It had come out of nowhere with little warning, and it was strong enough to take your breath away. In a different time and different place he would have taken hold of it and ridden that wave to points beyond exhaustion, but not right now. It burned and felt like it held the most potential he'd ever known for what his Risian friends were always searching for: nirvana through pleasure. But he'd be damned if he was going to give in to the part of him that had seemed to rule so much of his life up to this point. He focused and pushed until it snuffed out in his mind, though he knew it would remain a fixed, easily accessible memory for as long as he lived.

Instinct told him to reach out as the chair fell, but anger demanded he stay glued to his seat. 'Love' and 'trust' were words that hit like slaps in the face; his head even jerked a little, involuntarily, as he heard them. He could taste bile mix with the sugary sweetness of ice cream in the back of his throat as his body threatened to revolt against the words even as his mind slowly turned them over, like it was so morbidly fascinated by the emotions they generated that it couldn't bring itself to let go of them.

The ice cream spoon bounced uselessly off K'os' chest and clattered to the deck as hot tears streamed down Ellsworth's face. He wasn't sure if he was more upset about the situation itself or seeing how totally ineffective and unsatisfying the thrown spoon had been. He'd expected K'os to cry out or move or something but he was just standing there, like the spoon was the most inconsequential thing to ever touch his body. The Betazoid's slender fingers reached to pick up the bowl to throw it too but stopped short; he was crying so hard he probably wouldn't even be able to sustain the strength necessary to pick it up, much less hurl it at the half-Vulcan who had at one time - no, who still was - his imzadi. His limbs trembled with open emotion; when he spoke it was venom whose potency was almost entirely nullified by the thoughts he knew would betray him.

"Get out!" Pin me down, look into my eyes, and break me, like you want to. "I hate you!" I love you, and every minute of torment you've ever put me through. "You're so... What are you even doing? Why are you here? What do you want from me?" Hold me. "No one has to do anything, K'os. They only do what they want to do!" Touch me, rejoin with me, my mind to your mind, my thoughts to your thoughts...

K'os had looked up at the sound of the spoon hitting the floor, not registering that it had hit him, instead focusing on the torrent coming from Ellsworth. His verbal tirade was mixed with the desires from his lovers mind, and each hurled statement brought him a step closer. In that moment Ellsworth's anger had broken through K'os' panic and fear, shaking him out of a fog. When he reached the table he shoved it aside like it was a lawn chair with one arm and immediately scooped Ellsworth effortlessly off his chair. Blood fever be damned. Ellsworth was in pain now, Regardless of the risks and fears he had about touching him in that moment was superseded by the instinct to comfort and soothe the other man. He pulled him in and held him. Even if he was rejected, there was no other option. Even as he felt the tingling sensation begin to make his skin hot, he knew he had to.

Ellsworth struggled in his arms and struggled hard, which was about as effective as the thrown spoon. He slapped at K'os' bare chest and tried to push, wiggle, and squirm his way out of the other man's grasp, but it was the exercise in futility that he wanted it to be. He wanted to fail and knew it would have broken him more if he'd actually managed to get away. It only took a moment to exhaust himself - sleeplessness and the ongoing war inside him had sapped his strength - and he went limp in K'os' arms like dead weight.

Slowly, he turned his head until his cheek was pressed against the warm smooth skin of the half-Vulcan's chest. There was a great deal of hesitance and uncertainty in the move, but it felt right. Stupid, incredibly stupid, but right. Within the span of a moment K'os' touch telepathy began to take hold. It felt stronger than he remembered. Worryingly, it felt like it had a mind of its own, and it was hungry. Every beat of his heart felt like a heavy thud as his mind reacted to the bond reasserting itself. Against his better judgment he took his arms, which had been pressed between himself and K'os, and slid them around the other man's torso.

"We shouldn't be doing this," Ellsworth whispered, even as his fingertips gripped at the bare skin and pulled him closer, so tight that ten points of pain erupted across K'os' back where nails clawed and embedded with need. They were anchors that contradicted his fraudulent words. "It's not right. Please, you have to let me go..."

K'os drew a sharp breath at the pain, even as the Need twisted it to pleasure in his mind, as if feeding it. "I tried, Ellsworth. I tried letting everything go. It didn't work." His voice, always steady and self-assured, quavered as he spoke. His body trembled under the man's touch as if suddenly cold. He was referring of course to the thing inside him. Staying would have hurt Ellsworth, perhaps even have killed K'os himself. In this moment, leaving seemed to have been no less painful. He loosened his grip at Ellsworth's request, but stopped, hesitant to let go now that he had him back in his arms. The pounding in his body felt as though his heart would burst from his chest and his skin felt hot, even as he shivered. Ellsworth was right. They -- he -- shouldn't be doing this.

The hot, trembling skin and the electrifying telepathic connection that emanated from it felt right even as it felt wrong. It was familiar, like the smell of one's home after a long journey or a bed warmed by the presence of a long-time lover. He gave up all hope of control because he didn't care anymore. Nothing existed for him, just two minds. Oren, Grayson, Wintrow, his mysterious metallic cowboy, all of them faded and became background noise. He wanted to jump and wrap his legs around K'os' body and drag him on to the sands of Nusa Lembongan; he wanted to lay tucked into his arms underneath the stars in the shelter of a wooded grove; he wanted to see the wonder again on the man's face as he looked on something as simple as flowers, as only he could. He saw, heard, tasted, felt, and smelled nothing but K'os. There were just two minds in the whole universe, and then - in that climaxing moment of transcendence, as the connection became complete - there was just one mind.

The replimat was gone and suddenly he was standing on a far-reaching plain that passed on to the horizon broken only by a city, a red city, with buildings made of towering flames that stretched ever upward toward the heavens. They were the source of all light, casting a crimson hue over the tall grasses and sparse trees that covered the landscape. Ellsworth slowly reached out toward it, for as far as the city was it seemed he could touch it if only he tried. It called to him and wanted him - him and only him - and it was so beautiful, perhaps the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. Red, orange and yellow mixed in a fascinating style of architecture made for form and not function, sheer beauty for the sake of beauty. There were twisting spires of thin flame wrapped around and around one another in a swirling latticework that seemed almost vertically limitless; gardens with golden trees of flame that shed cinders into the night sky as they consumed themselves; and streets paved with glowing embers. But before he could grasp it something distracted him, an inconsistency in the otherwise uniform landscape, and he pulled back. It was smoke, he thought, or something like it. Far away at first but growing closer at an alarming rate.

The city, he realized, had jumped its walls and hit the prairie in a roar of flames. It wasn't spreading in the concentric pattern one might expect but instead seemed to be guided by some unseen hand tending to its sides so that it consumed a wide avenue that traveled straight toward him, burning trees and grass and soil indiscriminately. Sensing the danger, Ellsworth turned and immediately ran into the solid wall that was K'os, who'd been standing right behind him the entire time. He placed his hands against K'os' chest, open palmed, and stared up into his eyes. That city... That was the thing, the terrible thing, the thing that Anna had spoken of and the thing that sent K'os away and the thing that now felt him, the goal of its desire, so close at hand. It promised to be a glorious death of ecstasy burning away in the flames of passion, but death was death and it would kill him.


To be Continued


PO3 Ellsworth Hudson
Quartermaster
USS Galileo
PNPC Mott

&

PO3 K'os Beaumont
Engineer's Mate
USS Galileo

 

Previous Next

RSS Feed RSS Feed