Chris returned to the bedroom and sat on the edge of the bed, handing a warm black mug to the other occupant before settling, cross legged, in the centre while nursing his own mug of cocoa.
Rydell, no, Damian, took a sip and huddled a little further against the headboard. They were both in their underwear, Damian in a thumb-hole muscle shirt and standard issue boxers and Chris in a loose fitting Academy T-shirt and patterned boxers covered in little white stars. It was the most exposed to each other they had been since Damian came to his quarters a week ago, apologising for his outburst on the bridge.
In truth, Chris didn’t yet know if this was a good idea. The imbalance of power alone was making his head spin, let alone their over a dozen year age difference.
“You’re nervous,” Damian said quietly.
Chris huffed out an awkward chuckle. “Yeah, a little,” he admitted, taking a sip of his drink. “Kat Cornwell is going to have my head when she finds out.”
“That we…” Damian trailed off, blushing. He didn’t blush like Chris did, his darker skin hiding the telltale rush of blood, but Chris could see the way he bit the inside of his lip and ducked his head slightly, eyes shifting briefly down and to the side before snapping back to attention. It was…it was beautiful.
Chris reached out before he realised what he was doing, first to cup Damian’s jaw but his hand dropped as his courage drained and instead gripped one fine boned wrist. This was ridiculous, he thought. We’re about to…and I can’t even…
They had spent the last week in a state of almost. Almost touching, almost kissing, almost everything, and it was driving Chris mad.
Damian’s fingers threaded through his own. “Christopher?” He said, and Chris could hear a hint of fear edging his voice. “I…before we…”
Chris ran his thumb over the back of Damian’s hand, quiet but urging.
Damian swallowed. “When I said I’d never been with anyone before,” he said. “I meant with…in any way.”
“I know, Dami. We’ll go slow.”
“No, I…I mean,” Damian glanced up, looking at Chris through the dark hair that fell over his eyes. “Cap…Christopher, I’ve never done anything before. Sitting here holding your hand is the…is the most intimate thing I’ve ever done with anyone.”
The younger man took a breath, his head falling so his chin was almost against his chest. “I’ve never even been kissed,” he mumbled, embarrassed.
Chris felt another surge of courage at Damian’s admission and leaned across the mattress, lifting the hand holding Damian’s to finally touch his jaw, fingertips barely grazing the other man’s smooth skin before he urged Damian to lift his head.
Their lips touched, hesitant at first, but then Damian’s hand came up and touched his chest first; then nervously slid over Chris’ own jaw and further up, fingers curling lightly into the hair on the back of his head.
It was unhurried, their bodies slowly coming together the longer the kiss went on until Chris opened his eyes and realised they were tangled together, their mugs discarded on the nightstand.
Chris pulled away, eyes closed as he rested his forehead against Damian’s for a moment before he pulled away completely. “How…” he swallowed, realising that his courage had disappeared once more and nervousness was lining his belly.
Damian was breathing hard, flushed, and Chris realised that there was something hard pressing against his thigh. Damian must have realised Chris had discovered his arousal and something shameful flickered in those big dark eyes, quickly hidden when Damian’s face buried in his shoulder.
Chris rubbed his back, kissing the top of his head. “It’s okay,” he soothed. “It means we’re doing something right.”
Damian nodded, still embarrassed. “I don’t…feel like this a lot,” he admitted.
Chris filed that away for later. Damian was a healthy, fit young man but appeared to be almost shocked by his body’s arousal…something about that didn’t seem right.
They laid like that for some time, his lips pressed against Damian’s scalp, nose buried in the gossamer soft raven hair that smelled like cinnamon and peppermint as his hand rubbed soothing lines up the younger man’s spine.
“Do you want to stop?” He asked eventually, after he realised Damian hadn’t moved for several minutes. His own erection had flagged, though he knew he could quickly get it back again if Damian wanted to continue.
Damian didn’t reply, and Chris didn’t wait for Damian to convince himself that he wanted to do this.
“Alright,” Chris pulled away, but Damian’s hand gripped the front of his shirt and pulled him back, lips against his and hand coming back to tangle in his hair. Instinct kicked in and his hand dropped, first to grip the other man’s hip before his fingers slid under the fabric of Damian’s boxers.
He felt Damian go rigid and pulled away, almost scrambling to the other side of the mattress and sitting on his knees as he watched Damian curl in on himself, flushed and embarrassed.
“I’m sorry,” Damian managed. “I don’t…we should stop. You deserve someone who…who knows what they’re doing.”
Chris frowned and reached over to grip Damian’s wrist before the Ensign could pull another disappearing act. “Everyone has a first time, Damian,” he said. “We don’t have to rush, we’ll take this as slow as you need to.”
“I don’t know what to do,” Damian said eventually, and Chris knew that it was hard for Damian to admit. The Ensign was quickly becoming a rising star in the Command Training Program on Enterprise, always one step ahead of his class. “Is…is sex always like this? My brain is…it feels like it’s empty.”
Chris snorted, earning a confused look. “All the blood has gone somewhere else,” he said.
“Where?” Damian asked, and then blushed and almost immediately said, “oh. There.”
“Yes, there,” Chris chuckled, shifting closer. He kissed the furrow that had appeared between Damian’s eyebrows and smiled when it disappeared. “Don’t they have Sex-Ed in England?”
Damian shrugged. “I was in and out of school for science debates and soccer matches so much I must have missed it,” he replied. “Christopher?”
Chris tilted his head, watching Damian’s eyes skitter around before settling on the faded letters on Chris’ shirt.
“Show me what to do?” The younger man said finally, voice barely above a whisper.
Chris kissed him, cradling Damian’s face with both his hands before pushing him gently into the mattress and smiled when he felt Damian press against him.
Chris woke slowly, muscles warm and sore in all the right ways, his mind still full of cotton as he was pulled out of his slumber by his internal clock telling him to get up and ready for his shift.
He shifted, shuffling almost unconsciously towards the other occupant of the bed as his arm wrapped around that narrow waist. He pressed a kiss to the base of Damian’s neck and hummed. “G’morning,” he mumbled, as they slotted together like the pieces of a puzzle.
He didn’t quite hear Damian’s reply, though perhaps it never came as he drifted back into sleep. For once, he was content to stay exactly where he was and forget the rest of the ship.
If even for a moment.