New Fic: Gentleman's Agreement

[jackwabbit]

Gentleman’s Agreement

Fandom: Star Trek Discovery
Rated: M
Category: Vignette. Culmets. Angst. Romance. (Re)established Relationship. Smut with Feelings.
Word Count: 1273.
Season: Post-two, Pre-three. (Probably? Inter-season speculation.)
Spoilers: General Series Knowledge Through The End of Season Two.
Summary: A gentleman’s agreement isn’t set in stone. Heck, it’s generally not even written down. Therefore, amendments merely require the consent of both parties, right? Right.
Note: Occurs somewhere between “Rationale” and “Overstimulated”.

Also, this is part of the "I Rang The Bell With My Heart In My Mouth" series, and stories in this series are presented as inspiration strikes, not chronologically. See notes above for timeframe/related stories.

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They’re reading silently on opposite ends of the couch when Hugh’s voice interrupts.

“Paul, what’s wrong?”

Paul looks up from his PADD, startled.

“Nothing. Why would you think something’s wrong?”

Hugh heaves a sigh and sets his own PADD down, tucking one leg under his body and turning to face Paul.

“You’ve barely said two words all night,” he says, “and I’m going to break your thumb if you don’t stop tapping it on the table.”

Paul gasps at Hugh in mock horror.

“What happened to ‘do no harm’, doctor?”

“I’m willing to make an exception,” deadpans Hugh. “Now, what’s wrong?”

Paul looks back down at his PADD and shrugs.

“Nothing,” he repeats, “honest.”

Hugh gives Paul a look, but Paul continues to stare at his PADD, so he verbalizes his sentiment.

“Bullshit.”

That gets Paul’s attention. Hugh rarely curses, but when he does, he means it. The PADD is forgotten as he looks at Hugh, then away again.

“Paul, tell me.”

Paul takes a deep breath, then licks his lips, but still doesn’t speak for a long moment. When he does, his voice is quiet but clear.

“You know how I said I wanted to take this slow?”

Hugh nods. “I believe those were the parameters we established.”

Paul chuckles at the reminder of their first conversation in this century, then plows on.

“Yeah. I just… you’ve been okay with that?”

Hugh gapes at Paul, then slides across the couch to sit right next to him. Slowly, so that Paul knows what he’s doing, he reaches out to take Paul’s chin in his hand and turns his head so that Paul’s facing him.

Hugh waits until Paul makes eye contact, then says, “Are you kidding? I wouldn’t trade a minute.”

Relief replaces concern on Paul’s face, but then he looks down and starts to worry his lower lip with his teeth. It’s only a little bit, but Hugh notices.

“What?” he asks.

Paul shifts his body to face Hugh before he answers. They’re fully facing each other now, Hugh looking at Paul and Paul studying the couch cushion.  Paul’s still tapping his thumb – now on his other hand. Finally, he looks up at Hugh through his lashes and he’s deadly serious when he speaks.

“Yeah, but… are you still okay with it?”

Hugh blinks, somewhat taken aback by the question. He thought he’d been pretty clear on this matter. But since Paul apparently needs confirmation, he gives it.

“Paul, I’m fine. You said you needed time. After everything, I understand that. We’ll take this as slow as you want.”

Paul’s head is still bowed. He’s still looking up at Hugh, those pale eyelashes setting off the blue of his eyes. But slowly, his gaze turns darker, and Hugh notes a change in his breathing. Hugh’s brow furrows, but it’s Paul who speaks.

“But what if I changed my mind?”

Paul holds Hugh’s eyes with his as he asks and for a long moment afterward. And as he watches, Hugh’s expression changes from confusion to comprehension to wonder, and then, finally, to something delightfully wicked.

“I think,” rasps Hugh, pupils blown wide, “I think I could live with that.”

Hugh barely has time to register how one corner of Paul’s mouth curves up in a smirk before Paul’s hands are on either side of his head and he’s being kissed with a ferocity that leaves him breathless.

He responds by pushing Paul back against the arm of the couch and pinning him there, kissing him back all the while. The growl that elicits from Paul encourages him, and it’s clear they’re both on the same page tonight.

Paul shifts to bracket Hugh’s legs with his own, and Hugh pulls his knees up on the couch so that he’s on all fours and hovering over Paul. His hands are on Paul’s shoulders and his knees are between Paul’s legs. He moves to kiss Paul again and his knee makes contact with Paul’s crotch. Paul groans.

“Jesus, Paul,” mutters Hugh.

“All fucking night,” answers Paul, indicating the raging erection Hugh’s just become aware of.

“Why didn’t you say something?”

Paul shrugs as much as Hugh’s weight on his shoulders will let him.

“I didn’t know if it’d be okay,” he says, self-deprecation creeping into his tone.

Hugh is having none of it.

“Oh, it’s totally okay,” he says.

Then, in one smooth move, he uses the leg closest to the outside of the couch to sweep Paul’s outside leg under both of his so that he’s now on the edge of the couch with Paul on the inside. Then he plants his hip next to Paul’s and lays next to him. His hands are free now, and he uses one to turn Paul’s head toward him. He kisses him deeply while his other hand starts on Paul’s chest and works its way slowly downward. When it brushes across Paul’s cock, Paul jumps.

“This okay?” asks Hugh.

Paul takes a shaky breath before answering.

“Fuck yes,” he whispers.

Hugh doesn’t need to hear any more. He kisses Paul again while his hand gets to work much lower.

Paul’s still fully clothed when he comes, but it doesn’t matter. He breaks apart regardless, and for a moment neither he nor Hugh can breathe.

Then Paul tries to reciprocate, but Hugh brushes his hands away and lays next to him.

“Not now, love,” mutters Hugh, still slowly kissing Paul on the mouth in between feather-light kisses over every other part of his face and neck. He keeps that up until Paul relaxes into the cushions.

Then he extricates himself from Paul and stands. Paul whines a little at the loss of contact.

“I’ll be right back,” says Hugh, leaning down to kiss Paul’s forehead.

True to his word, he’s back in under a minute. Paul is right where he left him, and there’s no doubt in Hugh’s mind that Paul would’ve been asleep if he’d taken much longer. As it stands, he gently shakes Paul’s shoulder to rouse him from his stupor.

“Here,” he says, handing Paul a warm washcloth.

Paul groans, but takes Hugh’s offering. He cleans himself up, then drops the washcloth on the floor and nestles deeper into the couch again. As he does, he looks up at Hugh. He’s completely relaxed and still drowsy, and he pats the couch next to him in a silent invitation.

Hugh doesn’t have to be told twice. He lays down next to Paul and pulls the blanket from the back of the couch over the both of them. Then he calls out to the computer to dim the lights and settles in.

He adjusts his position a few times, until he finds a comfortable spot. Then he sighs as he nuzzles Paul’s neck. Paul hums in response as he nuzzles Hugh back. Then Paul pulls away from Hugh, still groggy, but more awake than he had been.

“Hugh?” he mumbles.

“Yeah?”

“You sure you’re okay?”

There’s a soft chuckle in the dark. “I’m better than okay, Paul.”

“No. I mean, yes, but… I meant with…”

“I know what you meant, Paul. And I’m fine.”

“Do you want me to… I can…”

“I’m fine, Paul.”

“You’re sure?”

“I’m sure.”

Paul finally takes Hugh at his word, nodding an “okay” against his neck and settling back down.

So they don’t have sex that night, but they do sleep together, right there on the couch, for the first time since Hugh’s return.

And if they’re both a little late to their shifts the next morning because Hugh believes in delayed gratification, neither one of them can find it in themselves to care.