Chapter Text
Chris woke to an empty bed and a keen sense of missing something vital. Not something, someone.
He threw an arm out and patted around beside him but the sheets were cool and there was no brush of warm skin against his fingers. Ash was long gone.
Something lurched in Chris’ chest and he had to fight the urge to flinch from the sharp ache of it. It hadn’t been all that long since they had begun whatever it was they had now fallen into; just about a month and a half really since Chris had found himself asking Ash, “What do you need?” And in that moment, he hadn’t been sure if he had been asking what Ash needed after letting the part of himself still colored by Voq rise to the surface, what he needed from Chris, or both. But when Ash had looked at him, that stormy expression startled and sharp, Chris had known then. He’d been asking on both counts. And when Ash had come to him that night, seemingly pulled by an invisible force — one that tugged just as hard at Chris — the answer had been so clear that Chris wondered how they hadn’t stumbled on it before then. Since that night they had fallen into an easy rhythm that, by all logic, shouldn’t have worked between such different men, and yet, incredibly, it had.
He had suspected long before that night. Truthfully, he had wondered about Ash and about the idea of them when they had been stuck in the shuttle. The way Ash had jumped when their hands brushed on the control panel, the hooded gaze he’d given Chris; both had stayed with him long after they’d made it back to the Discovery and gained more than those few feet of space between them. Things had thawed between them after that, mellowed and aged from a brash, fiery back-and-forth into something warm but trusting, as if Ash had finally settled in his place as a Section 31 agent and in his opinion of Chris as captain.
Chris, for his part, had finally begun to see the softer side of the double-agent-turned-spy. Watching his crew around Ash had helped him get there much sooner than he would have expected. They were slowly bringing him back into the family that was the crew. He could see it in the way Ensign Tilly absolutely lit up around him and managed to cajole him into a quiet laugh. How First Officer Saru treated him with nothing but dignity and respect, and the way Burnham watched him, careful but with a fondness that was impossible to deny. It had taken time for all of them to get there, but once they had, Ash’s posture had become less rigid, and Chris had found himself drawn more and more to him. Although, he hadn’t missed the bemused looks from the bridge crew when he and Ash verbally sparred on the bridge but without the sharp-tongued heat in the wake of The Shuttle.
Since that first night — when Ash had crawled onto his lap and kissed Chris like he was dying and Chris was the only thing that could save him — any remaining reservations from Chris had vanished. When he had woken up to Ash between his legs, head pillowed on his chest and looking at him with a smile so soft, it made his heart ache in the most beautiful way. Before Ash, he’d never known that a heart could ache in any way that wasn’t pain. And before Ash, he hadn’t known that getting eaten out to within an inch of his life could be that good. It had been worth the soreness the rest of the day, just for the deep-seated satisfaction that Ash had done that, and had clearly enjoyed it just as much as he had.
Nearly all of their nights had been spent together since then. Chris could count all of three nights they had spent apart. Two of them had been due to Section 31 emergencies that had resulted in Ash holed up in his quarters while in conference with other agents. It had taken a long time for his shoulders to come down from around his ears the following mornings, and Chris had taken it as a challenge to do so when Ash crawled into his bed close to dawn, looking haggard and pale. The other night had been a result of Stamets wanting to demonstrate something to do with the spores in his lab, only for the two of them to get stuck in a turbolift afterward. For nearly six hours. Six. Hours. By the time the engineering crew had freed them, and the two of them stumbled out in desperate need of coffee and more space between them, Chris knew more about fungi, the mycelial network, and Tardigrades than he ever wanted to know.
When Chris had recounted the story, Ash, the bastard, had laughed until he gave himself hiccups (which were very adorable, damn him). Chris had staggered back to his quarters after inhaling a quick breakfast, determined to get a short nap before heading for the bridge. He hadn’t expected to find Ash sprawled in his bed though, one arm slung over Chris’ pillow and his dark hair fanned out around his softened features as he slept. He’d woken when Chris had come in and shyly admitted he’d come over to spend some time together, but when Chris had become stuck, he decided to nap while waiting.
“I knew you were going to be just fine,” Ash had said around a yawn. “The engineers know what they’re doing when it comes to turbolifts. Though, Stamets.” He’d shuddered and added, “Did you get a doctorate by proxy after all that time with him?”
That was when Chris had given him the thousand-foot overview of what he and Stamets had talked about, and when Ash had laughed his way into the hiccups. Chris had sighed — and then shoved Ash backward off the bed. Ash had landed in a heap, and had blinked at Chris in surprise for a moment over the side of the mattress, before bursting out into a loud peal of laughter. If Chris had crawled across the bed to lean over and kiss him into silence, well, that was for the two of them to know.
All those moments together and then some — the evenings stretched out side-by-side on the couch while going over separate reports, sharing dinner together, early morning sparring sessions where Ash taught Chris some rather handy Klingon moves — flashed through Chris’ mind now as he finally opened his eyes and contemplated the empty space next to him in bed.
On the mornings Ash had left before Chris, he had kissed Chris awake before handing him a fresh cup of coffee from the replicator. Or cuddled him close one last time while whispering where he was off to before sliding out of bed.
There were no cuddles that he could remember now. No cup of coffee waiting for him on the nightstand. Not even an old-fashioned note on the pillow.
Ash had relaxed so much in the time they’d been together and Chris tried not to worry now. He really did. This was out of the norm for Ash as he’d known him in the last month and a half, but not for a Section 31 agent who received calls at all hours of the night and day. And it definitely wasn’t out of the norm for a man who had been a POW, plagued with nightmares ever since his return. Chris swallowed down the worry that perhaps Ash had bolted, had changed his mind about them, and sat up instead.
The cool air washed over him and he rubbed a hand up one arm in an attempt to ward off the chill. The black-and-silver badge was missing from the other nightstand and its absence made Chris scrub a hand across his face.
“Hi,” he heard, mid-scrub.
Chris spread his fingers and saw Ash leaning against the doorframe. God but he looked good in those dark sweats and that hooded blue sweater with the sleeves that came down nearly to his knuckles. Ash was holding two cups, both steaming, and looked — small, Chris thought. Not just in the loose clothing, but in the way he held himself, hunched in and just this side of defensive. His eyes were almost unreadable, the hazel depths darker than normal. Almost. Chris had some experience by this point in reading Ash, in translating the language of him.
“Hey,” he replied, voice equally soft. “Double-fisting the caffeine already?”
That earned a quick turn up of Ash’s mouth before he worried the corner of one lip between his teeth.
“Nah, I was bringing this one for you,” Ash said then.
What Chris couldn’t understand was the hesitancy in Ash’s movements, in his gaze. Then it clicked.
“Why didn’t you wake me?” he asked while holding out a hand to him.
Ash sat on the foot of the bed and folded one leg in front of him, the act making him look even smaller.
“You needed the sleep,” Ash explained, eyes down as he thumbed at the rim of one cup.
Chris could see, now that Ash was within reach, that one cup was his coffee — one cream, one sugar — and a lighter brew that smelled of perfectly steeped tea leaves. He curled one hand over Ash’s that was holding his coffee.
“It’s alright, love,” he murmured as he rubbed his thumb over the back of Ash’s hand.
Ash looked up at him then, from under silky hair that had fallen forward, and with a worried gaze.
“Seriously,” Chris continued. “You’re not a bother if you wake me up, especially when it’s the nightmares.”
Something in Ash loosened as he sighed and Chris took the opportunity to cup his cheek. He couldn’t help a smile; Ash was beautiful, stunning at this distance really, and Chris was beginning to wonder if he would ever satisfy the craving to touch him, to look at him, to love him. He hoped that day never came.
“Besides, you waking me up means more time together. I know, I know, we’re technically together when we sleep, but it just means I can remember it when we’re awake.”
Ash laughed, a quiet, fond thing, and Chris felt his heart thrum.
“Okay,” Ash admitted. “I’ll wake you next time.”
“Can I kiss you?” Chris asked.
He knew about Ash’s past, partly from his file and partly from the bits and pieces Ash had haltingly told him when they were together. When Chris had read his file and realized that Ash was an assault survivor, and that the memories still haunted him, he had sworn to do his best never to trigger him. He knew that Ash could be skittish after nightmares, easily spooked and things that wouldn’t normally be a trigger much more likely to be one.
Ash’s whispered, “Please,” put his hesitancy to rest though. Chris shuffled forward until he was half draped over Ash’s legs and pulled Ash’s face down to his level. Ash was warm, so like the sunbaked desert back home, and kissing him when he was soft and pliant like this reminded Chris of walking on sand just touched by the rising rays in the early morning. Chris could taste the black tea on his lips, rich and with a floral undertone, and licked in for more of it. The small noise Ash made, that sounded a hell of a lot like need, made something in Chris clamour for more, now, him. He pushed back on the instinct to drape himself over Ash, blanket him with warmth and kisses and gentle touches until he melted.
He didn’t like it, but he had to. The cups brushing against his shirt were, quite literally, in the way.
Ash pulled back first and leaned his forehead against Chris’ as he blew out a sigh.
“Thanks,” he whispered.
Chris kissed him once more and smiled. “Always. You want to talk about them?”
Ash shook his head, more of a roll back and forth from where he was still leaning against Chris’ forehead. “No, I’m feeling better. Did some Mok’bara once I got up. That helped.”
He bumped his nose against Chris’ and Chris didn’t need to open his eyes to see the smile he could feel. “Kissing you helped too. A lot.”
It was easy then to pull Ash in for a brief kiss. Chris tried to get across what it meant that Ash trusted him with this, with the parts of himself that were jagged and still healing, with how vulnerable he felt after the dreams. Loving Ash — because that’s what it was — was easy, but showing him that without scaring him off, or overwhelming him, was harder.
“God, I love kissing you,” Ash whispered as he pulled back to breathe.
Chris opened his eyes and found Ash looking more than a little dazed, mouth unconsciously shifting into a smile. He took the opportunity to pry one of the cups out of Ash’s hands and sip at it.
“That — that one’s mine,” Ash spluttered, clearly trying to get his brain in gear once more.
Chris laughed and swapped the cups. “Just wanted to taste the original. Black tea and rose petals is a good taste on you.”
Ash’s mouth fell open and Chris sipped his coffee with a smirk, knowing full well what he was doing. So what if he was a bit late getting to the bridge this morning? Based on the look Ash was giving him, it was going to be worth the rush to get dressed after.
Ash was leaning in, intent clear on his features, when Chris’ comm badge chirped from the nightstand. Ash dropped his head with a dramatic sigh and Chris had to work very hard not to laugh as he answered the hail.
“Pike here. What is it, Saru?”
“Good morning, Captain. Lieutenant Commander Reno has informed me she is ready to test the modifications to the warp drive core at your earliest convenience. Shall I proceed with the test?”
Ash leaned in and began to mouth at Chris’ neck.
“Uhm,” he said intelligently, trying to get his brain to focus on Saru’s words and not on Ash’s mouth — which was not easy. “The test just requires, ah, going into warp,” he took a steadying breath and tried his best to glower at Ash from where he was grinning impishly up at him on his shoulder, “and maintaining course heading?”
“You sound out of breath, Captain,” Saru replied instead. “Are you exercising? Should I have Lieutenant Commander Reno wait until later to run the test?”
Ash turned and tried to muffle his snicker in the crook of Chris’ shoulder. “Exercising,” he mouthed up at Chris after, clearly enjoying the hell out of driving Chris mad with the war between his dick and his brain.
“Uhm, no, no, that won’t be necessary, Mr. Saru,” Chris said quickly, hoping to get off the call before all of his brain cells were fried. “Tell her to begin the test. Do you need me on the bridge for anything else?”
Chris inhaled deeply and tried to concentrate on what Saru was saying, instead of the way Ash’s free hand had slipped under the edge of his shirt and was splayed low across his stomach, the tips of his fingers just barely dipping below the waistband of his sweats.
“— not necessary, Captain. We planned to warp to Starbase Nine for supplies, so Reno’s test can occur during the normal warp. No need for you to be on the bridge for the test, sir. If you have other matters to attend to before we reach the starbase, I am more than happy to oversee operations on the bridge.”
When Saru said “other matters”, Ash wiggled his eyebrows at Chris, making him close his eyes and count backward from ten — in Latin. Ash’s fingers were scratching lightly over his skin, making goosebumps break out as he shifted in the bed, trying to remain focused.
“Alright, Saru. You have command of the helm. I’ll be there in an hour or so once I finish what I’ve got on my hands here.”
He cocked an eye at Ash and gave him the full Captain Pike look — arched eyebrow, silent, mild judgement mixed with repressed laughter — and was gratified to see Ash bite his lower lip to stifle a laugh.
“Very well, sir. Saru out.”
The comm badge went silent and Chris very carefully placed it back on the nightstand, along with his coffee, even though he wanted to toss both over his shoulder, consequences and stains be damned.
“Well, Captain,” Ash began, far too pleased with himself, “you’ve got me on your hands. What do you intend to do about it?”
“You’re ridiculous,” Chris sighed as he placed Ash’s cup on the nightstand as well.
“Yeah, yeah, and you love it,” Ash shot back, the grin stretching across his face bright and relaxed.
Chris grabbed him by the shoulders then and flipped them so that Ash landed on the mattress and Chris was leaning over him. He waited to see how Ash would react. Ash had been okay so far with Chris between his legs, with Chris over him, as long as Chris wasn’t riding his dick. He held still, legs bracketing Ash’s thighs, and waited.
“Oh fuck me,” Ash breathed as his pupils went wide.
He hauled Chris down and kissed him, biting and licking by turns.
“Do you,” Chris got out between kisses as he carded a hand through Ash’s hair, “have any idea how hard it was not to moan?”
“Mmm, kinda disappointed you didn’t,” Ash said before he pulled Chris’ lower lip between his teeth and sucked, hard. “Next time,” he hummed after he’d let go.
Chris was panting already, and rolled his hips down, gratified when Ash met him halfway, an equally filthy noise falling from his mouth.
“Would you like that?” Chris asked, hand tight on his hip. “Making me moan? Everyone knowing that their captain likes getting fucked by his boyfriend until he’s incoherent?”
Ash gasped and before Chris could wonder if that was a good or bad sound, Ash had yanked him down to crush their mouths together. He got a leg hiked around Chris’ hips and started grinding up. Chris groaned, his dick so hard that it hurt.
“Boyfriend?” Ash rumbled when he let go of Chris’ mouth, only to latch onto that spot on his neck that was entirely too sensitive for Chris’ sanity. “Got a nice ring to it. Almost as good as the sound you make when I do this.”
Ash raked a hand down his chest and Chris keened as his blunt nails scraped down over skin and sensitized nipples.
“God, you sound so pretty like that,” Ash said. Chris opened his eyes to find Ash watching him, looking practically drunk. “Sound so good for me. Just for me.”
“Just for you,” Chris echoed, yanking Ash’s hips up so they could properly grind together. “Love it when you’re like this, Ash. Look at you — half gone already just from this.”
Ash clung to him, their hips rolling together, and Chris let go so he could smooth a hand up Ash’s chest until he could feel the thrumming pulse in his neck.
“Maybe next time the bridge calls, you’ll be sucking my dick. Would you like that? Trying to get me off, make me moan, while I’m talking to the bridge?”
Ash let out a noise that went straight to his dick and Chris swore before shoving at their pants and shirts, desperate to feel the soft slide of their dicks together. Between the two of them, they managed to get their sweats shoved down far enough that Ash could wrap a hand around both of them. Chris’ arms nearly gave out as sheer relief shot through him. He rocked into Ash’s hand and shivered at the drag of calluses over flushed skin.
“Bet you wouldn’t, oh fuck, wouldn’t have a fucking hair out of place while I did,” Ash grunted. “Bet you’d sound so fucking normal while you came down my throat.”
The image hit Chris then of Ash between his legs, as he deepthroated him and looked up with those big eyes nearly black with heat. With the tight grip of Ash’s hand on his dick now, it was all too easy to imagine the hot, wet feel of Ash’s mouth around him, the suction and drag as he bobbed back and forth.
“Not. Possible.” Chris bit out. “They’d — fuck, they’d probably send Security. I’d be yelling up a storm, coming down your throat like that.”
Ash’s face flushed and he licked his lips. Chris chased the sheen left behind, could still taste the tea in his mouth, and he wanted to drown in the feel of him everywhere now. Ash’s free hand was on his back, holding him close as they rocked together into his fist. The tips of his fingers were pressed tight along the line of his back, five points lighting him up and lighting the way toward the orgasm already rolling through his veins.
“So close,” he gasped. “C’mon, Ash, don’t hold back.”
Ash moaned as he threw his head back and picked up the pace with his hand. The long line of his body arched beneath Chris, all tight muscle and controlled need.
“Let go,” Chris said, hand tugging lightly in his hair. “Be as loud as you want.”
Ash shoved up hard into his hand once more, throat working around a low moan, and then he was coming, painting both of their shirts. Some of it coated his hand and the hot, slick sensation was what pulled Chris after him. Watching Ash come was a beautiful thing, a brilliant explosion full of emotion. But coming with him? Feeling the aftershocks mirrored in Ash’s body? The sound of Ash’s stuttering breath the first thing he could hear after? Chris wasn’t a poet but that experience might just make him become one.
They were tangled together after, Chris on his chest, both of them panting. Chris knew they’d have to get up soon, shuck off the shirts that were a mess and get in the shower before heading for the bridge. But he was content to stay there for a few more minutes and savor the way Ash was limp under him, arms wrapped loosely around his back and his nose buried in Chris’ hair. Chris smiled and kissed his chest, hoping it was somewhere near the proximity of his heart.
“Well, that’s — my cardio for the day,” Ash finally said, still slightly breathless.
Chris laughed then and he felt Ash join him. It was one of things he loved most about them together. It was so easy to get Ash to laugh, and the way Ash was quick to do so around him made Chris feel as if he might float up to the ceiling from the joy of it.
“Guess I really can tell Saru I was exercising,” Chris said before laughing again.
Ash nuzzled his hair. “New kink or just opportunity?”
Chris hummed, thinking. “Dunno. Probably best not to try because if there’s one thing I’ve learned about this ship, it’s that seven out of ten calls from the bridge mean a yellow alert at the least. Not the best time to be getting the galaxy’s best blowjob.”
That made Ash snort, the hot brush of air tickling Chris’ scalp. “Careful now. We don’t want my ego getting bigger than the ship.”
Chris rolled his head back and forth on his chest, the best he could do instead of a shake. “Incorrigible, honestly.”
After they’d stopped laughing, Chris made a thoughtful sound. “Though, if we’re in space dock one of these days, and my badge goes off — god, I can’t believe I’m even suggesting this.”
Ash let out what could only be described as a chortle, a delighted one at that. “So you do have a kink.”
Chris poked his side, making him squirm and then laugh. “Only with you.”
Ash cuddled him closer and Chris heard him say, very softly, “You sap.”
Chris kissed his chest again and was rewarded with Ash rubbing one hand up and down his back. He fell quiet and it was a sign of how well Chris was learning the language of him that he knew it was the kind of quiet Ash got when he was mulling something over. (There were several kinds of quiet. Chris loved that Ash let him see all of them.) He didn’t say anything, knowing that, based on past experience, Ash would speak when he was ready.
“I’m just trying to figure out,” Ash mused slowly a moment later, “whether this is your roundabout way of wanting to tell people about us.”
Chris blinked. “Oh.” He shifted so he could look up at Ash, chin propped on the curve of muscle next to his sternum. “Oh,” he said again, at a loss for anything else to add.
He watched Ash and was pleased to see that Ash didn’t look like he was contemplating sliding out from under Chris and bolting for the door. He also didn’t look upset at the prospect. Chris hadn’t thought all that much about telling the rest of their inner circle — Saru and Burnham, Tilly and Reno, Stamets and Culber. It had only been a few weeks with Ash, and the rest of the group had mostly settled back into an acceptance (easy or otherwise) of Ash’s place among them since his return nearly two months before. Chris hadn’t wanted to cause any drama, especially where Burnham and Culber were concerned. And given Ash’s past, Chris had figured slow and quiet was the better route. All the same, he had been thinking in permanent terms about Ash, about their relationship. That was a sure sign, even if an unconscious one, that he was in for the long haul, and would want to tell at least someone sooner or later. Honestly, he wondered how it hadn’t occurred to him sooner. What was that old Earth saying about lightbulbs?
“Is that,” he began and then licked his lips, brain still processing. Just because Ash didn’t look panicked didn’t mean he was on the same page as Chris. “Is that something you’ve thought about?”
Ash lifted one shoulder in a shrug, eyes still fixed on the ceiling. “I mean, maybe? I guess I’d been thinking about possibly telling Michael sooner than later. I don’t want her surprised by the news, and I figured she’d be a safe one to tell. If anyone apart from you would understand what the hell I’m thinking, she’d be it.”
Chris nodded, which was mostly just rubbing his chin up and down on Ash’s chest. “Makes sense. She knows you, knows about your past. And it’s Michael,” he smiled. “Somehow I doubt Spock’s sister would react with anything other than happiness and support for you. Vulcans don’t exactly do judgement.”
Ash said nothing, merely cocked an eyebrow at him. Chris huffed out a laugh.
“You know what I mean. Not that kind of judgement; at least, not about something like this. If Spock of all beings is understanding and compassionate, then Michael absolutely will be too.”
Ash brushed some of Chris’ hair back off his forehead and smiled. “You know, it’ll be good to find Spock,” he murmured, eyes a little unfocused. “I mean, good for, y’know, him being safe and you and Michael no longer looking like worried mother hens.”
Chris opened his mouth to protest but Ash shot him a look. Yeah, okay, Ash had his number there.
“It’ll be good to find him,” Ash said again. “I’m looking forward to meeting the guy. He’s got one hell of a reputation to live up to.”
Chris grinned at that. “He’s a good kid. I think you’ll like him. And I think he’d like you too.” He took a deep breath and dove in. “Actually, if I was going to tell anyone, he and Number One would be the first ones I’d say anything to.”
When Ash gave him a surprised look, Chris felt himself blush. “They’re basically family,” he explained. “And Number One has been after me for ages to find someone who can ‘keep up with my brand of chaos’.”
Ash laughed, and the crinkles around his eyes deepened. Chris loved when that happened, it had become a great indicator that he was truly relaxed. Once Ash had settled down, he looked down at Chris and smiled softly. He brushed one thumb along Chris’ lower lip and Chris fought the urge to let his eyes slip closed. The look Ash was giving him was one he wanted to savor for as long as it lasted.
“Looks like you found your chaotic someone,” he whispered.
Chris felt his mouth fall open in response and he knew he was gaping but he couldn’t bring himself to care. The words caught in his brain and looped, like one of those record players from several centuries before, needle scratching over the vinyl as it repeated over and over. Your chaotic someone. The words sank into his skin and buzzed just below the surface, warming him down to the marrow in his bones. Chris wondered if it would be possible to ever feel cold again after that.
“Have I?” he asked, holding his breath.
“Yeah,” Ash murmured, and god, that smile was devastating for any attempt at a steady heartbeat. “You have.”
Chris felt lightheaded and giddy as he leaned up to kiss Ash. He took his time, enjoying the way Ash cradled his face, thumbs a perfect bracket on either side of their mouths.
“Tell Spock,” Ash said when they broke apart. “Once we find him.”
Chris couldn’t help a snort of laughter. “Yeah, I doubt broadcasting on subspace channels about this would help us find him any faster.” Ash’s lips were twitching as Chris continued in a voice meant to mimic the clipped pace of subspace transmissions. “Mr. Spock, please notify us of your location. I have a very hot boyfriend that I’d like to tell you about.”
Ash burst out laughing and Chris never wanted to forget the split-second before he did, where his nose scrunched up and he was biting his lower lip in an attempt to keep the laughter back. Chris kissed him then, Ash’s laughter bright and perfect as he swallowed down the sound of it.
“Just warn me before you tell Number One,” Ash said eventually once he had his breath back. “I’ve heard stories about her. Her ‘hurt him and I will end you’ speech has got to be absolutely terrifying.”
“Oh god,” Chris laughed. “I never thought about that. I bet she’ll be perfectly civil and nice to you.”
“Liar,” Ash shot back, laughing again. “And you know it.”
Later, after they’d showered and were getting dressed, Chris caught Ash’s hand as he crossed the room.
“Tell Michael,” he said, tangling their fingers together.
Ash gave him a surprised look and Chris brought their hands up so he could kiss Ash’s palm.
“Just realized I didn’t say it earlier,” he murmured against his skin.
Ash pressed in close, lips going to that spot on Chris’ neck that they both loved. He trailed his mouth lightly over the edge of Chris’ collar.
“Thanks,” he whispered. He pulled back to finish zipping up the uniform top for Chris. “Can we — would you mind waiting on everyone else here? Maybe see how it goes with Michael first?”
Chris brushed a hand through Ash’s hair, already drying and curling into that perfect wave he loved to run his hands through at day’s end when Ash was listing into him on the couch.
“Yeah,” he said when Ash had relaxed into his touch. “We can do that, love.”
The deck beneath their feet gave a terrific lurch and they fell into each other as the ship shuddered around them. Somehow they managed to stay mostly on their feet, arms holding each other up as the ship continued to violently rock and shake. Chris and Ash exchanged a worried glance before Chris tapped his badge, the walls still trembling around them.
“Bridge, damage report.”
“Working on it, Captain,” came Saru’s calm voice. “I’ll have those numbers in a moment for you.”
“What the hell happened?” Chris asked as the deck shook once more beneath their feet and then the tremors tapered off.
“I do not know, but I believe it might have something to do with — ”
“Reno’s test,” Chris beat him to it. “I’m on my way to the bridge.”
Saru signed off and then Chris and Ash were heading for the doors. Chris caught Ash’s hand before they got there and was opening his mouth to speak when Ash spun and cupped his face, holding him close for the space of a breath.
“Be safe,” he pleaded and then kissed Chris, hard, once.
“Was just about to say the same thing,” Chris whispered.
And then the doors opened and they strode out into the hall.
“I’ll head to security, see what they need help with,” Ash called out as they separated.
Chris nodded. “Call me if you need something.”
Ash threw a jaunty two-finger salute at him before he turned and took off at a run, body slipping easily through a throng of people rushing in multiple directions. Chris took off in the other direction and made what had to be a new record time in getting to the bridge.