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Subject: NEW2ASCEM We've Come A Long Way ...(TNG,  Picard/Q, NC17)
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Author: kira-nerys
Title: We've Come A Long Way.
Codes: NC17, slash
Date: December 3, 2004
Pairing: P/Q
Series: TNG
Summary: Picard makes the first move.
suppose you could say that this story is set between Generations and 
First Contact.
Feedback: Please - at kira at kardasi dot com.
Disclaimer: Picard, Q, the Enterprise et al, are not my property. They 
all belong to Viacom and Paramount. No profit is being made from this, 
just some pleasure, hopefully, and no infringement upon existing 
copyright is intended.
Betas: Many thanks to Tiggy Malvern for the beta. It's just the way I 
like it. Quick and thorough!

We've Come A Long Way...

by kira-nerys

Picard awoke and stretched luxuriously in his bed. Knowing that he didn't 
have to get up for another couple of hours was a unusual treat. 
Christmas in space was hardly different from any other day, except for 
the fact that there would be parties all over the ship and some 
delicious foods to be eaten. Picard yawned and sighed. He was happy on 
Enterprise, but it was often business as usual on the holidays and 
sometimes - like now - he missed that family connection with a pain he 
hadn't expected. Thinking of his family in France, knowing they were all 
gone now, everyone except Robert's wife, Marie, was more difficult 
during the holidays. The comfortable feeling he'd awoken with dissipated 
at that rememberance.

Sighing, he looked through the window right above his bed. Stars flashed 
by and the bedroom was quiet. Glancing over at the chronometer, he was 
grateful that he didn't have to get up for another couple of hours. That 
was probably the largest difference between Christmas and normal days on 
the Enterprise. Barring unforseen dangers, many of the crew would be 
allowed to take days off or to sleep in. The rest would have to wait 
until New Year's. Feeling drowsy, Picard waited for sleep to claim him 
again, but thoughts intervened. He had dreamt something, something far 
more pleasant than the loss of his family. What was it?

A deep voice seemed to whisper at the edges of his consciousness, and 
memories of a courtroom that had been such an abhorrent experience over 
eight years ago came unbidden to his mind. He remembered the crowd 
screaming, and the condescending tone in Q's voice. But the memory 
transformed slowly, into the last time he'd been in that same courtroom 
. This time, it had been quiet - he and Q its only occupants. It had 
seemed almost intimate, and there had been a different, affectionate 
tone in Q's voice.

He'd been thinking about Q a lot lately. Picard told himself he should 
be grateful for every minute that the Enterprise and its crew - and he - 
were left alone by the fickle entity, but he wasn't. He felt impatient, 
as though there was something important left unfinished between them, 
and this feeling only seemed to grow stronger for each day that passed.

He remembered the last time he'd met Q. How the entity had leaned over 
him before he left, warm breath brushing his ear. Q had withdrawn with 
an almost flirtatious smile on his lips and Q's final words had held 
promise rather than threat to Picard. "I'll be watching you...and if 
you're very lucky, I'll drop in to say hello from time to time. "

That was a long time ago now, and as far as Picard could tell, Q hadn't 
dropped in once. He'd never imagined feeling so disappointed at that 
fact.

"Preoccupied, Mon Capitain?" A teasing voice interrupted his thoughts.

"Q!" Picard couldn't hold the surprise and irritation away. He felt as 
though he'd been caught red-handed doing something that he shouldn't. An 
unpleasant flush warmed his cheeks. Was Q reading his mind? He wouldn't 
put that past the entity.

"My, my, did I interrupt something private?" Q's smile widened and he 
tilted his head to the side as his eyes raked Picard's body. Suddenly 
his silk pajamas felt terribly inadequate. "How quaint."

"You didn't interrupt me," Picard said. "You simply startled me. I'll 
never get used to you just popping in and out as it pleases you."

"Why, mon capitain, do you want me to pop in more often?" Q smiled, but 
then seemed to rethink his comment. "I think not - I wouldn't want you 
to grow bored with me - not that that is very likely to happen."

Picard frowned and bit back an acerbic reply. For the first time since 
he got to know Q, Picard didn't want him to leave. The admission, even 
if it was only to himself, made Picard feel horribly exposed.

"Well, since you are here, what do you want?" Picard rose from his bed 
and pulled on a robe. He might as well get up. He wouldn't sleep any 
more this morning.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk," Q said. "What if I dropped in because I'm bored, and 
want company? Even your pathetic attempts at conversation are more 
interesting than those of the members of the Continuum."

Picard grunted at the dubious compliment and, suddenly the idea came to 
him. If Q was really bored, and had only sought him out to talk, why not 
give him something stimulating to think about? Picard resisted the smile 
that threatened. This was the perfect opportunity to tell Q the truth. 
Something hot coiled in Picard's belly at the thought, but. it was time. 
He had been having trouble concentrating on his duties long enough.

"Bored, Q?" Picard said. He extended his hand in an invitation towards 
his navy blue couch. "If that's true, why don't you have a seat?"

Q looked at him suspiciously. "What did you do? Did you have that 
pompous chief engineer of yours install an artificial black hole in the 
sofa? Will it swallow me up so you'll never have to lay your eyes on my 
handsome face again?"

Picard laughed and again surprised himself by doing so. Right now, Q's 
presence was . refreshing, rather than annoying. Perhaps that was simply 
because he'd finally admitted the truth to himself?

"Hardly, Q. Your presence in my life is far too ... interesting . for me 
to want to get rid of you permanently."

"Oh, really?" Q's voice held only contempt now, and he refused to sit 
down, instead standing a mere meter away from Picard with his arms 
firmly crossed over his chest. Picard ignored him and sat on the easy 
chair across from the couch. "That does it. Something has to be wrong. 
You are never nice to me. Did the Founders replace you with a 
shape-shifter?" Despite his misgivings, Q finally sat on the edge of the 
couch. When nothing untoward happened, he slid back further and made 
himself comfortable.

Picard sighed and conceded that Q probably had a point. He was acting 
differently, but truth be told, if he wanted to change their 
relationship, this was as good a time as any other to start....

"Q ..." Picard hesitated.

Q leaned forward in his seat, resting his elbows on the glass table, his 
brown eyes boring deep into Picard's. "What is it, Jean-Luc?" The voice 
was soft and alluring, and Picard shook his head.

"Nothing."

What had he been thinking? His brain must be shutting down completely. 
Or perhaps Q was playing some game with him? Perhaps he was exercising 
mind control? Picard frowned and looked the entity straight in the eye. 
No, that probably wasn't it. Q would most likely consider that an empty 
victory, and that would certainly bore him. Q didn't look bored. He 
looked curious and slightly. suspicious.

"Nothing? I don't believe you, Jean-Luc. Those eyes of yours were so 
sincere and so concerned. I'm sure you were going to tell me something 
incredibly interesting." Q's voice held just a little bit of contempt. 
"As interesting as your human life gets, I suppose. So what's going on? 
Did you finally propose to that dreary redhead in Sickbay? Are you 
trying to tell me that you and Beverly are going to repeat the mistake I 
showed you in the future?"

"No, Q," Picard said, thoughtfully, wondering why Q even mentioned 
Beverly. He realized he now had a golden opportunity to ask a few 
questions that had been on his mind ever since the time-travel . 
incident . had happened. "Why did you throw a marriage between us into 
the mix? We both know that the future I experienced is not going to take 
place. You only fabricated it on orders from the Continuum, to test me 
yet again. So, why Beverly?"

Q stared at his fingernails and sighed. Then his gaze landed on Picard's 
lips as he said: "Why not? I had to make your future believable or the 
test would have been useless."

Picard tried to ignore that look, but his lips tingled as though Q had 
in fact touched them - kissed him even. Arousal stirred and he rose from 
the easy chair to distract himself from the sensation.

"But why Beverly? And why did you make our marriage fail?"

"Come now, Jean-Luc. Even you must admit that it's obvious that had it 
been real, a marriage between you two would have failed miserably!" Q 
said, pacing irritably across the room eyeing the couch suspiciously. 
"She pampers you like you were a child. Oh, dear. She would get on your 
nerves in a week, not to mention after so many years!"

"So you showed me this out of compassion?" Picard snorted. He was 
suspecting a quite different reason that made his gut tense up.

"I do have a heart, you know!" Q glared at him with a truly offended 
look on his face.

"I never doubted it." Picard said and drew a finger across his lips 
thoughtfully. He drew a deep breath and looked out the window above his 
bed, thus turning his back to Q so he could think straight. "So, you did 
it because you didn't want me to make that mistake? Or was there some 
other reason?"

"It's fun to watch you squirm," Q said and smiled with satisfaction.

Picard turned suddenly, and held the entity's gaze while he walked to 
stand behind him. Q started to turn around, as though threatened by not 
being able to see Picard.

"No, stand still, Q. Please." Picard said.

And to his surprise, Q remained unmoving. "Now, what?"

"What about this, Q?" Picard moved close enough to allow his breath to 
tickle Q's ear as he spoke. It was a bit awkward, since he was shorter, 
but the effect appeared to be exactly the same on Q as it had been on 
him..

Q shivered, and turned around. "What about it?" he said.

"Was this the reason you put Beverly in the mix, to make sure I knew it 
could never really work?"

Q's voice was suddenly harsh. "I told you - it's fun to make you squirm. 
I don't need any other reason, Picard."

"So, it's 'Picard' now, is it?" Picard said. "You always call me 
Jean-Luc."

"Or Johnny, or captain, or Mon capitain, or whatever." Q tried to sound 
bored and indifferent, looking down at his nails as though there was a 
speck of dirt underneath them, but Picard could see Q's hands trembling. 
As though suddenly noticing, Q folded his hands behind his back and 
glared at him.

"You seem awfully defensive, Q," Picard said softly.

"I'm not, I'm just bored."

"I don't think so," Picard protested, and could hardly believe what he 
planned to do, but his gut reaction told him to follow his instincts. 
Doing so had served him well throughout his career in Starfleet. Why 
should instinct fail him now?

Reaching up to the entity's dark hair, he buried his fingers into the 
silken strands, and Q's eyes grew big. "Jean-Luc, what are you doing?" 
he squeaked. Picard couldn't help smiling at the terrified look on the 
entity's face. But he didn't snap out of existence with a flash. Picard 
took that as a good sign and leaned forward and upward, pulling Q's head 
closer. Then he whispered huskily. "I'm kissing you. Do you mind?"

Q's reaction was not quite what Picard had expected, or wanted. "Yes, I 
mind!" he said and stepped back, almost making Picard lose his balance. 
Q looked suspiciously at him. "You're playing with my feelings, 
Jean-Luc," he said petulantly. "That is cruel."

Picard couldn't help laughing, even though he was disappointed that Q 
had pulled away. He'd really been looking forward to that kiss, so much 
so, in fact, that he was tingling all over, and his cock was growing 
hard. "First of all, my dear Q, I am not playing with your feelings. It's 
not really my modus operandi, as you well know by now. But even if I 
were, you shouldn't talk."

Q turned his head away, suddenly looking strangely ashamed. "I am 
 sorry," he said softly.

"You are?" Picard hesitated, before he stepped closer to the entity 
again. "What would you say if I proposed that you and I put everything 
that has happened in the past behind us and explore this new thing that's 
evolved between us?"

Q didn't reply at once, but Picard took that as another good sign and 
put his hands on the entity's arms, caressing them. Q was trembling 
violently.

"What is it?" Picard asked.

"I have watched humans engage in sexual intercourse a million times - a 
billion times even!" He paused. "I've even done it myself a few times.

"But .?" Picard prompted and Q shot him an irritable glare.

"But," he continued. "I have never cared about any of my partners. Now I 
don't know what to do," the omnipotent entity admitted with more than 
just a tinge of annoyance in his voice.

Picard swallowed. In essence, what Q was telling him was that he was 
special. He wasn't just any human. "My, my, Q, are you trying to tell me 
you care?"

Q didn't reply to that. He only straightened his back and met Picard's 
gaze stubbornly. The chocolate brown eyes were deep, endless, and for 
the first time, Picard had the feeling he could see Q's true self, with 
no charades, no mirages, and no deception. He felt awed at that, and a 
little afraid. There was some kind of responsibility connected with 
this . this openness. Q was suddenly fragile, and whatever he did next 
would tip the balance. If he didn't do this right, Q would turn back to 
his petulant, uncaring and dangerous self. Who knew what would happen 
then? Perhaps he would wreak havoc with the universe, unraveling the 
fabric of time. Or maybe he would call off Christmas?

Picard felt as though he was balancing on a knife's edge, carrying an 
egg. It was a sensation he had experienced many times in his line of 
work, and he reacted the same way he always did. He took command of the 
situation and made sure everyone knew he was honest, competent and that 
he cared deeply about what he was going to do.

His hands moved from the entity's arms, and Picard could still feel the 
trembling through the fabric of the red uniform. "It's all right, Q," 
Picard whispered. "You can trust me. You've always been able to trust 
me. You know that."

Then he pushed his fingers back into that luxurious brown hair, 
revelling at the silky feeling, and pulled Q's unresisting head closer, 
before he pressed his lips against Q's and kissed him. The kiss made 
everything explode between them. Years of pent-up desire that Picard 
hadn't even known that he'd felt was suddenly unleashed.

"Q," he groaned and the kiss deepened. Warm, hungry and eager. Q's 
strong arms wound around Picard's waist and pulled him closer, their 
bodies melting together. Q was just as hard as he was, and that made 
Picard moan again, almost forgetting where he was, and he didn't really 
care.

With a snap of his fingers, Q moved them both to another time, another 
place. Picard started and pulled away.

"Relax, Mon capitain," Q said huskily and his grip around Picard's waist 
tensed slightly, the large hands moving soothingly across Picard's back, 
making the silk of his pajamas and robe glide sensually aganst his skin. 
Picard shivered as Q continued. "We are still on the Enterprise, and if 
anyone wants you, you'll be there quick as another snap of my fingers, I 
promise."

Promise? Had Q ever promised him anything before, besides trouble? Yes, 
Picard realized, he had, and he did always keep his promises - often in 
some odd, incomprehensible fashion. But rememebering this, Picard 
relaxed, and followed Q's lead toward the beautiful four-poster bed. 
Picard's quarters now reminded him of some oldfashioned mansion during 
the festive season, decorated with muted colors and heavy fabrics. The 
windows went from floor to ceiling in the half-circular room and the 
heavy draperies were made of a dark red velvet. They were pulled apart 
to let the moonlight in and it shone on the large bed, which Q pulled 
him toward. In the corner there was a large Christmas-tree, decorated 
with exquisit crystal-balls, glitter and real candles. The candles 
spread a soft glow around the room, making the bed look incredibly 
inviting.

"Red silk?" Picard said and lifted an eyebrow at Q.

"Only the best for you, Jean-Luc," Q whispered and pulled him back into 
his arms, moving backwards toward the bed. Picard smiled mischievously 
and pushed the entity down on the luxurious sheets. His face was a study 
in shadows and light and the candles made it look vulnerable and hungry 
at the same time. Q bounced lightly on the bed, and groaned when Picard 
followed to straddle him, rubbing his ass wickedly over Q's erection. 
Picard's insides surged with a strong sense of power when he saw Q's 
eyes fall shut and the entity thrust helplessly against his buttocks.

"Do you like that, Q?" Picard whispered.

"Yes, Jean-Luc, I do," Q admitted. He lifted his hands to snap his 
fingers.

"No," Picard said and grabbed his hand. "None of that. Not without 
asking me first. What were you planning to do?"

"Get rid of our clothes," Q said. "They're in the way."

"So impatient," Picard chuckled. "No, the clothes stay on as long as I 
say so."

"You're bossy in bed, did anyone ever tell you that?" Q wondered and 
frowned at him.

"Yes, one or two of my previous lovers have mentioned it," Picard said 
and smiled. Then he turned serious. "Honestly, Q, you need to relax and 
enjoy the ride. The journey is more important than the destination, didn't 
anyone ever teach you that?"

"No."

"Then I will teach you," Picard said and proceeded to pull down the 
zipper in the back of Q's uniform jacket. Admittedly, getting him out of 
a Starfleet uniform was a little tricky, and not quite as sensual as 
Picard would have liked, but then again, the reward was worth it. 
Revealing Q's golden skin underneath, the heavy muscles and the powerful 
chest was more than reward enough.

"You are beautiful, Q," Picard whispered. He'd never truly realized it 
before, or perhaps he had simply not admitted it to himself, but Q was 
very attractive. His lips were full and kissable and the heavy-lidded 
eyes were a warm, coffee brown color and they met Picard's gaze without 
hesitation. There was curiosity and anticipation there, but none of the 
usual condescension or superiority. Picard lifted his hand and put it 
against Q's chin in a caress. It was stubbled and Picard shivered 
slightly, wondering if Q did that consciously or how he could appear so 
utterly human.

"Don't look at me like I'm a specimen in a petri dish, Jean-Luc," Q said 
softly.

"I don't. I mean. I won't. I'm just . curious about you, that's all," 
Picard admitted. "There is so much I don't know about you, Q. Things I 
have never wanted to know before, but now find myself hungry for."

"What do you want to ask?" Q asked, suddenly a bit wary.

"So many things. Like your stubble here. Is it just something you do for 
detail? To make your human body more real?" Picard could have kicked 
himself, but still couldn't help himself or the questions that came to 
his mind. He was an explorer, and curiosity was a big part of who he 
was.

"No, Jean-Luc. Right now, I am just as human as you. Feel my heart 
 beat." Q grabbed Picard's hand and put it against his chest. "Feel 
that? Feel the rhythm? The warmth of my skin, the sweat?"

"Yes." Q's heart was indeed beating there, in his chest, right where the 
human heart should be. And it was beating fast, and his body smelled of 
the sort of clean sweat that signalled arousal.

"Let's talk later," Picard said, trying not to think about all the 
questions that were gathering in his mind, thoughts about why Q looked 
the way he did. Why had he chosen that particular appearance? What did 
he look like when he was in his normal form? What .?

"Sssh!" Q said, pulling Picard's head down for another kiss. "Later."

"Later," Picard echoed and fell into the kiss, all questions suddenly 
forgotten. He had a job to do, and he was going to do it - well. He was 
going to show Q what it was like to make love with a little bit of 
patience. He dragged his hands slowly, lovingly over Q's muscular chest, 
down to the abdomen, where a string of hair grew wider before 
disappearing beneath the black uniform trousers. "So, Q," he whispered. 
"What are you wearing underneath?" The springy hairs tickled Picard's 
palms and he licked his lips at the thought of what he might soon see.

Q lifted an eyebrow, and suddenly Picard knew that whatever he was about 
to find, it would either be something outrageous or something 
outrageously sexy. He couldn't wait to find out whether he was about to 
laugh himself sick or if he were about to lose his breath in arousal. He 
kissed a path down Q's abdomen, allowing his fingers to follow, making 
little detours toward the nipples. That caused Q to moan and throw his 
head back. Picard smiled and moved further down, his hands eventually 
ending up on the fly, opening the button slowly and pushing the zipper 
down.

He didn't look immediately, but dragged his nose against Q's smooth, 
flat stomach. He allowed himself to taste the saltiness of that satiny 
skin that smelled so good, and tasted even better. How come he had never 
noticed how nice Q smelled before?

"Mm," he moaned and pulled the trousers down Q's hips, and the entity 
helped by lifting off the bed a little. But there was nothing outrageous 
there. No underwear with dancing bananas on them and no black leather 
thong that would threaten to make Picard choke. There was just Q, and a 
nest of curls centering around his normal sized, uncut, but very 
aroused, cock.

Q obviously knew him better than he thought, Picard realized. 
"Beautiful," he breathed. "You are just beautiful." Nothing could have 
turned him on more than seeing Q like this, naked, vulnerable and so 
enticing.

Pulling down Q's pants completely and throwing them on the floor, Picard 
watched the entity in the flickering light from the candles. All nude, 
he really was gorgeous, and Q made no attempt to either flaunt himself 
or shy away. He just lay there, aroused and waiting to see what Picard 
would do next. Perhaps Q realized that even though Picard really wanted 
this - really, really wanted this - he was also a little intimidated and 
it was good to have control, or at least to believe that he had some 
control over the situation. If Q wanted to hurt him, there was nothing 
Picard could do about it, and that leant a dangerous sensation to the 
experience, but at the same time, he felt incredibly safe. Q had saved 
his life on many occasions, and Picard didn't believe he would truly put 
him - or even his crew - in danger. Not anymore.

"Beautiful," Picard repeated and reached out to caress the smooth skin 
of Q's flawless cock. The arousal sparked through his own body at the 
touch. The cock leapt in his hands and Q gasped. It was as if Q's body 
harbored an electrical current that bounced between them when they 
touched. Picard moaned.

"Jean-Luc," Q said huskily.

"Yes?"

"Let me see you. Please." Q's voice was low and barely recognizable and 
Picard gasped at the heat that met him when he looked up. Slowly, he 
pulled the sash of the robe and shrugged it off his shoulders. It pooled 
behind him in a rush of light, cool silk that brushed against his feet 
where he was sitting, with his legs folded underneath him.

"Too many clothes," Q said impatiently. "May I?"

Picard knew instantly that Q simply wanted to remove all the clothes 
with a snap of his fingers, but he didn't want that.

"No," Picard said. "No, wait."

Q sighed impatiently, but there was a spark of something in his eyes. 
Respect? Curiosity? Something. Something that indicated that he liked 
Picard's answer after all.

"Feel this," Picard said, grabbing hold of Q's large, square hand and 
put it on his thigh, where the silky pajamas touched his skin. He moved 
their entwined hands across the silk. "Do you feel it?"

"Yes," Q whispered. "It feels really good."

"It does, doesn't it?" Picard said and moaned as Q's hand slid further 
up, brushing his cock lightly. The light touch sent jolts of pleasure 
through him and his cock jumped, becoming even harder.

Picard swallowed. "See, there are some benefits to keeping your clothes 
on, for just a little while."

"You may have a point," Q conceded. "But I really want to see you . 
naked."

So Picard pushed himself off the bed, letting the robe slide to the 
floor as he moved. Then he pulled the shirt over his head, baring his 
gray-haired chest, wondering suddenly what Q really saw in him. He was 
an old man, would not live much longer, at least not in the eyes of an 
immortal being such as Q.

"Perfect," Q whispered. "So perfect."

Then Q moved, sitting up and leaning toward Picard where he was standing 
by the edge of the bed. Q's reached out until his hand rested on Picard's 
chest. "Your body is beautiful, Picard," he reassured. "But what I like 
most about you is your mind. You never cease to surprise me with your 
strength and resiliance. That's why I. want to be here, why I want you."

Picard's breath caught at the touch of Q's hand against his abdomen. It 
was warm and soft, and so close to where he burned. He swallowed and 
threw his pajama shirt to the floor next to the robe. Q's words and his 
voice, the voice that could be so taunting and so humiliating, now 
purred with sensuality and promise. Picard knew beyond a shadow of a 
doubt that Q meant what he said. When the hand moved further down, 
gripping him through the silk pajama shorts, Picard swallowed hard and 
closed his eyes against the vision. Seeing Q's hand resting there on his 
groin would make him come. It felt . "Oh!" he moaned. Q withdrew his 
hand as though aware of how close he came from that touch alone.

"What can I be to you, Q?" Picard whispered. "I could die tomorrow, or a 
year from now."

"Sssh!" Q said and put a finger over his lips. "No more talking, 
remember? I want to see you now."

Picard gave in and took off his pants, finally standing naked before Q. 
The entity's eyes widened and looked at him with awe, as though he had 
never seen anything so beautiful in his life. It was uncomfortable and 
Picard felt undeserving of that gaze. For the first time in many years, 
he felt the blush of embarrassment creep up on his cheeks, and he wanted 
to hide. How could Q think he was that beautiful? Q had seen so much, so 
many indescribable things, so many beautiful worlds and beings..

"Beauty is in the eye of the beholder.." Q whispered and pulled Picard 
down onto the bed. Then they kissed again and the embarrasment died 
away, leaving only hunger and desire. "You are beautiful, Picard. You 
chest is muscular and defined, your ass is to die for and I could 
fantasize about those legs wrapped around my waist a century or more."

Those words and the touch of his skin against Q's naked body made Picard 
groan. Their kisses became urgent. Their tongues entwined, danced and 
tasted each other's warm, wet and eager lips, and Picard drowned in 
sensation. Q tasted as though he had been drinking something, whiskey or 
cognac perhaps. Or maybe it was just the taste of Q himself that was so 
intoxicating?

Their bodies rubbed together, sliding deliciously on the silken sheets 
and the sound of Christmas songs could be heard in the background. 
Picard knew he would never forget this moment, with Q's cock against 
his, rubbing, sliding and making him harder and hotter with each move. 
He would always remember this when he heard 'White Christmas' from now 
on. He chuckled slightly and gasped as Q's hand moved from his shoulders 
in between them, grabbing both their cocks, sliding deliciously over his 
glans once, twice, then down along his shaft. Short nails dragged 
against the vein on the underside, cupping his testicles gently, rolling 
them and making them pull closer to his body. Picard hissed. Then the 
thumb was back on the head, spreading the moisture there, faster, 
underneath where he was so sensitive, where he would..

"Q!" he groaned. "It's been so long. I won't last if you touch me like 
that."

"You will last," Q crooned and rubbed his thumb over the head of Picard's 
cock over and over again, causing him to gasp and rock his hips 
helplessly against that delicious caress. It was so good, and he was 
convinced he was going to lose it any second now. He would come. Soon, 
soon. Now. But no, the pleasure went on, and on, and on.

"Merde!" he groaned. "So. good!"

It was as if something held him back, as though he was wearing a cock 
ring or something that wouldn't let him come, would only allow the 
sensation to grow and grow until Picard could feel nothing but that 
exquisite pleasure between his legs. He lived there, he was aware of 
nothing but Q's delicious caress that burned, and burned and made him 
want. He wanted to come, he didn't want to come. He wanted this to last 
forever, and ever.

"Jean-Luc," Q whispered. "You're so beautiful". Q was now pushing him 
down on his back on the silky sheets. Forgotten were all thoughts of 
having any kind of control over what was going on. He was in Q's hands, 
literally and completely. He had nothing to say or do against the 
onslaught of sensations, againt the ripples of electricity that danced 
along the shaft of his cock. The hands that moved over his balls and his 
cock made him squirm and moan.

"Do you feel good, Jean-Luc?" asked the husky, sexy voice. "Do you want 
to come?"

"Yes . No . Oh! I ." He didn't know what he wanted. He wanted this 
pleasure to go on for an eternity, and he couldn't stand it a second 
longer. It was torture. It was bliss.

"I can keep you like this forever, Jean-Luc, if you want me to, but all 
you have to do is ask. Just ask me, Jean-Luc, and I will let you come. 
Let me see you come!"

"Yes, oh, yes. Let me . let me come," Picard gasped, pleading and 
feeling the pleasure grow tighter and tighter, like a wire about to 
snap - and then it did, allowing the pleasure to bloom inside his belly, 
spread through his limbs like wildfire setting his entire body aflame 
once again. So good, so good. Never had anything felt so good. It was a 
tidal wave and he followed the tsunami, riding its crest until the 
monster wave of pleasure was nothing more than a memory.

"Q", he whispered hoarsely a second later, or an eon. He didn't know. He 
must have screamed, because his throat was raw and his body was relaxed 
like after a thorough massage. "That was . that was .?"

"Outstanding? Wonderful? Unlike anything else you've ever experienced?" 
Q whispered. Picard chuckled and nodded. "Yes," he admitted. "For once 
you're not bragging."

"Of course I am," Q said and laughed. Then the smile died and he looked 
into Picard's eyes pleadingly. "Can I fuck you, Jean-Luc?" he asked. "I 
so want to fuck you. Would you let me?" Q's voice was hesitant and 
hopeful at the same time.

"Would you not do it if I asked you?" Picard said, and regretted the 
words as soon as they left his mouth.

 "I'm sorry," he said simply when he saw the hurt in Q's eyes. "I didn't 
mean that the way it sounded. It's just . you're so powerful, you could 
make me want it even if I didn't."

"I could never force you to do anything you didn't want, Jean-Luc. Not 
because I can't, but because I won't," Q said and pulled away. His cock 
was now softening and Picard instantly felt guilty and disappointed. 
Mostly disappointed, because there was nothing he wanted more than to 
feel Q's body inside his own, or to be inside Q. That would come, later. 
But right now . "Q," he said firmly. "I do trust you."

"Do you? Do you really?" Q said, and sat back on the bed beside him, the 
brown eyes scrutinizing Picard. "Because if you don't. We cannot do 
this. Not ever again."

"But I do want you, Q. Come back here and fuck me."

Picard could see the entity shiver at his words, and the cock was 
already beginning to fill up with blood again. "Was it something I said, 
Q?" he asked and grinned.

"Anything you say, Jean-Luc. Everything you say. Your voice . it's an 
elecric shock to my system," Q gasped.

Picard smiled. Q wasn't the first lover who had ever said something like 
that to him. But it was the first time he'd heard it from someone whose 
voice had the same effect on him.

"I foresee a lot of talking in our mutual bed, Q," Picard murmured. "I 
can see you talking to me, with that beautiful voice of yours, making me 
hard just by telling me how much you want me."

Predictably, Q moaned and moved back up on the bed. Picard leaned back 
on the mountain of pillows, pushing them away. Fucking on his back, a 
pillow would be more useful under his hips than his head. He pulled one 
of the fluffy items down and pushed it underneath his hips.

"Lubrication?" he said questioningly. "You have to prepare me."

"I could.." Q lifted his hand and was about to snap his fingers.

"No," Picard said. "No cheating."

"Well, if I can't use my powers, there will be no fucking," Q explained 
impatiently. "There is no lubricant in the room. I didn't plan that far 
ahead. I simply thought.."

Picard laughed. "All right! You may snap the lubricant into being, but 
you put it on, manually! Hands on, Q!"

"Picky, picky," Q tsk-ed but did as Picard wanted, snapped his fingers 
and a small jar of transparent liquid appeared on the bed beside them. 
"This is Slick Love from Risa," Q explained as he opened the lid. "It is 
made of a substance from a tree that grows only on their planet. It 
doesn't dry and it's completely odorless, so they add the scent of 
Risean lilacs to it."

"Mon Dieu, Q!" Picard laughed. He could honestly not remember when he'd 
laughed so much last. "You mean my buttocks are going to smell like 
lilacs."

"Mais oui, mon capitain!" Q said, seriously. "Not only is it the best 
lubricant in the universe, but it's smell is also an aphrodisiac, so 
close your mouth, don't talk, lie back on the bed and enjoy."

Now who was in control? Picard thought ruefully, but did as Q ordered. 
Then the laughter died away, because Q's blunt index finger brushing his 
entrance made the sparks fly instantly. His cock rose slowly from its 
nest of curls, but the arousal was quick as lightning, enveloping his 
body immediately. He groaned, and Q gasped. "Gorgeous, Jean-Luc," he 
murmured. "Show me how much you like this. Show me, tell me ."

"Oh," Picard moaned. When he was younger he'd never been much of a 
talker in bed, but he'd had to adapt, learning very quickly that his 
voice was one of his best assets during sexual encounters. Now his mind 
fought to remember what to say, what to do - how to let Q know how much 
he was enjoying the touches in his most intimate of places.

"I. " he gasped. "Oh fuck, Q, I don't know what to say. My mind is 
blank. You do that to me. I can't think when you do that to me. It's so 
good, what you do - oh!" Picard moaned again, helplessly, as Q pushed 
deeper with his finger, coating Picard's insides with the slick gel. "I 
can't even imagine what it will feel like when you fuck me, Q. not when 
it feels so good - already. I can't. oh, fuck!" He groaned, losing his 
train of thought once more, as Q's fingertip brushed and pressed lightly 
against his prostate. Again, he could feel that light pressure against 
the base of his cock, keeping him from coming too soon. It wasn't yet 
necessary. He was no longer a teenager and had come only moments before, 
and still . god only knew what Q did to him. He felt young, energetic 
and so aroused.

Q leaned over him, Picard could feel it and he opened his eyes slowly. 
Their gazes met in the most intimate of moments. As Q positioned 
himself, and helped his cock into Picard's slick, well-prepared orifice, 
they kept looking at each other. It was so intense, that Picard wanted 
to blink, but he couldn't, wouldn't lose this moment, wouldn't back away 
from the incredible intimacy of it.

"Q!" he groaned and the entity gasped as he slid all the way inside. 
That's when he lost Q's gaze, when the world turned into a complete 
blur, and all coherent thought disappeared. Picard could no longer keep 
his eyes open. He no longer saw Q's fiery eyes, the flickering candles 
in the Christmas tree or the thick drapes by the windows. He barely felt 
the silk sheets glide against his overheated body. All he could sense 
was the hard, driving length of Q's cock pumping into him, slowly at 
first, agonizingly slowly, then faster, at just the right angle, just 
the right pace and..

"Ah, Mon Dieu!" he groaned. He lost the language he used every day and 
slipped into the language of his childhood. "C'est merveilleux!"

"That's it, Jean-Luc," Q gasped. "Yes, that's it, that's it."

And then the world exploded into a million pieces of light and passion. 
Pleasure ripped violently through him once more and Picard wondered how 
it was possible to feel so good, and not be dead. He'd never understood 
it before. It had never felt so good, but now he knew why they called it 
'Le petit mort'.

Coming back to himself again was more difficult this time. He felt as 
though he'd lost himself somewhere, and had trouble finding his way 
back.

"We've come a long way, haven't we, mon capitain?" Q managed to groan 
before he slid out and fell to the side, exhausted. Picard couldn't help 
smiling as Q blinked against the candles in the tree and yawned.

"Indeed we have, Q, " he said and curiosity began to rear its head again 
now that he was no longer so aroused that his brain could not function. 
"Now, about my questions, Q," Picard began, but he was instantly met by 
a snore.

"Yes," he chuckled. "We have certainly come a long way if I managed to 
wear you out.."

But there would be another day, and Q would answer his questions, or 
else..

END


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