Summary: You and Julian are sharing quarters while you participate in an exchange program on a Vulcan ship. You discuss your issues acclimating to the new ship, as well as your history together on Deep Space Nine.
***
"Dammit... dammit, dammit dammit!" I hissed. Julian looked at me with an almost bemused expression.
"Sounds like your experiment is going well," he murmured, sarcastically, before shifting his eyes back to the report he was working on. I swiveled my chair around and looked at him sourly.
We'd each been selected for spots on the Vulcan exchange program, and he seemed to be having an easier go of it than I was. Some of their systems were a bit alien to me, and I'd been making the effort to adjust some of the sensitivity on their touchscreens so that I could better control them. So far, all of my efforts had been met with a blockade in the code—and Julian seemed to be tired of my frustrated outbursts when that happened.
"You can go work on that in the mess hall if you need to," I mumbled, a pout on my lips.
"I could, but I'd rather work in my quarters," he responded. I sighed, a little guilty. We were sharing quarters, and I wasn't being the best roommate.
"... Right. Sorry, I guess I'll give it up. I'm just... a little frustrated. It's not very respectful of me to be like this," I said softly. Julian hummed absentmindedly, and I watched his face for a moment, hoping for some sort of response. Already disinterested, it seemed. When I didn't get one, I settled back into my chair grumpily and crossed my arms so that I could properly sulk. I was pissed with the failures of my efforts—and I was also a little miffed with Julian.
His eyes briefly flickered up from his report after a few minutes of my brooding posture, and at first he seemed to think nothing of it, as he began to refocus on the PADD. But then, slowly, some curiosity seemed to register on his face. He carefully placed the PADD aside and put down his cup of tea, training his eyes on me.
"I know... it's been a little tough sharing quarters," he said softly.
"It's not just that," I said quickly, jumping on the first opportunity to express my frustrations that I could. "The whole ship. It's nothing like DS9."
"Well—that's sort of the point, isn't it?" Julian asked. A reasonable chuckle swelled in his stomach. I sighed.
"You're right. I'm just..." I trailed off, biting my tongue. Maybe I shouldn't say it.
"You're just what?" Julian asked softly. I shook my head.
"I'm a little scared, that I'm... not up to it," I admitted. "You seem so at home here, what with your genetic modification and all that. I'm just afraid that I'm a little too..." I trailed off.
"Too..." Julian said, pushing me to explain myself, and I sighed.
"Human," I admitted. "I'm too human. I'm inefficient, and imperfect, and... too emotional. What would the Stoics think?"
"Stoics?" Julian mused. "Now why would you care what Ancient Greek philosophers have to say about your emotions?"
"Because it's very similar to the Vulcans' philosophy, isn't it? I studied the Stoics a bit before coming here, as part of the recommended reading in preparation. Yet it feels like I've thrown it all out."
"I see," Julian murmured.
"What would they say about my—" I stopped for a moment, struggling for the right word, before it came to mind. "Ineptitude?"
"Well, first of all, they would have said that you're doing the best that you can considering your circumstances," Julian said quietly. "And that things are what they are. If you're having trouble, that's all right."
"How can it be?" I sighed.
"You're human, aren't you? It would be... illogical, to expect you to act differently."
"Oh please, now you sound like a Vulcan too," I groaned. "I miss it when we first started out at DS9 and you didn't know when to shut up."
Julian smiled, a small chuckle in his nose before fingering the corner of his PADD. There did, however, seem to be the remnants of a sheepish countenance hiding behind his expression. My eyes trailed away, and I began to focus on an indistinct point on the bland wall of our quarters as a comfortable silence settled over us.
"... Y'know, I took this assignment because I thought it would be nice to have a couple months away from everyone else," I said softly, staring blindly at the spot. "I didn't think I'd actually start missing everyone."
"What, you don't enjoy your time with me?" Julian poked playfully. I smiled. Maybe he was getting a little better than he was in the war. There was a time when he would only respond in vague grunts and noises of acknowledgement. Now, at least, he could crack jokes again.
"Trust me, I enjoy it just fine," I promised. "Really—I do. I've always enjoyed your company."
"You have?" he said, laughing a little, but when he saw I was serious his face fell slightly. "I... enjoy your company too, but... really? Even when we first met?"
"Of course," I replied quietly.
"I wasn't aware that anyone enjoyed me back then," he said with an amused, but slightly bittersweet smile. "Even Chief O'Brien got annoyed with my tendency to run off at the mouth. And he was my best friend."
"Well maybe he just didn't appreciate your shortcomings in addition to your strengths," I said, and I averted my eyes from the wall. "I was a little shy back then, though. Maybe I should have made it clearer."
"You were, a bit," he admitted. "But I don't fault you for that, especially since I had issues on the other end." He paused a moment, before a smile crossed his lips. "Speaking of Greek philosophers, perhaps you were deficient, and I was in excess. I was cocky, you were shy. Together we might have been perfectly confident and charismatic."
I smirked and my eyes flicked towards him from across the room. However, I didn't expect him to be looking at me already. Our eyes met and slowly, my expression fell as we looked at each other for a moment. There was something... there. I turned away, frowning. Maybe it was my imagination.
"Together," I repeated, the word feeling a little funny on my tongue. "Almost sounds like you mean..." My tongue seemed to swell a bit then at the words and I closed my mouth. I didn't want to finish that sentence.
"You have an unfortunate habit of trailing off mid sentence," Julian commented. An embarrassed smile quirked at the corner of my lips, but my eyes didn't wrinkle in the way they would if it was genuine.
"Do I?" I asked. "I hadn't really noticed."
"That's the third time tonight," Julian commented, leaning forward on his desk and settling his cheek against his palm. I glanced at the analog clock on my desk. 23:34. It was getting a bit late. That would probably explain how relaxed he was getting.
"You were keeping count?" I asked.
"Not exactly. I just... noticed," he replied.
"Is that the only thing you've noticed about me, with that enhanced mind of yours?" I asked softly.
"Tonight?" he asked back. My eyes flicked up to meet his. We stared at each other for a moment, as if daring each other to say anything. Which one of us would break the sleepy tension first?
His question lingered in the air for a moment, and its presence made me feel almost... nervous. I had wanted it. Wanted him to pursue the cues I was giving him. And yet now that the question was out... I felt myself wanting to backpedal. Maybe flirting with him so overtly had been a bad idea.
"It's getting late," I murmured after a long pause, and I stood up from my desk. I crossed the room to get to my wardrobe and I carefully fingered one of the drawers for a moment. I wasn't sure, but it felt like Julian's eyes were lingering on me.
"Is it?" he asked softly. I opened the drawer, looking for the right clothes. He seemed relaxed... too relaxed. I felt tired myself, but my heart was thumping nervously against my ribs. I heard Julian get up from the other side of the room, and the skin on my arm prickled as I heard his footsteps coming towards me. I avoided looking at him by staring at an array of pajamas, but out of the corner of my eye, I saw him approach his set of drawers next to mine.
"You know..." he began in a low tone. "I know you're having trouble with it, but I thought I would be acclimating to the Vulcan social climate. Acting like them. Thinking like them. But there are some things about my humanity that keep coming back to haunt me too."
"Oh?" I asked. I reached into the drawer I had opened to grab hold of a nondescript t-shirt. Julian seemed even more unfocused, though. "Like what?"
He stared somberly at the wardrobe for a moment before he an embarrassed smirk tugged at his lips.
"Attraction," he answered honestly.
I breathed in slowly, and carefully turned my head towards Julian, but I didn't look at him. He did the same, but he actually had the guts to look at my face.
"Julian..." I said quietly, my tone indescribable. He hooked a finger carefully under my jaw, and carefully brought my face up to look at him.
"Am I out of line?" he asked quietly.
"No," I answered quickly. My heart was beating far too fast.
Slowly, his face inched closer to mine, stuttering as he searched for any hint of discomfort in my expression, before he closed his eyes and committed. His lips brushed against my own with uncertainty before slotting in with mine, and he carefully clasped my jaw in his hand. I reached up and nervously grasped his shoulder, as if afraid he'd take it back. His other hand grasped my upper arm gently in a comforting fashion, and he brushed my inner arm with his thumb. Slowly, he pulled me in, just close enough to make me feel safe... and once I began to relax, I slowly reciprocated.
We stood there a moment, lips interlocked, and the quarters around us seemed to melt away into the inky blackness of space shining in through the porthole above out wardrobe. It was only him. Just him. And that was perfect.
Slowly, Julian let go of me. His hand slid up the skin of my cheek to brush my hair out of my face. I blinked slowly.
"How long have we known each other?" He asked gently, his smooth voice dissolving the silence between us.
"Seven years," I answered, not missing a beat. He smiled.
"How long were you waiting?" he asked quietly. I blushed a little, considering a polite lie for a moment before giving in and telling the truth.
"Six," I admitted. "How long did you know?"
"At least three," he murmured. "Well. Suspect is a better word. I didn't know."
"Then why did it take so long?" I asked, gently drawing a line down his chest from where my hand had rested on his shoulder.
"Does it matter?" he asked quietly. I raised my eyebrows, thinking. I supposed it didn't.
He leaned down, kissing me softly again. I curled my fingers into his soft black hair and hummed, something he seemed to like, as he pulled me into his body. This kiss was shorter than the last though, and seemed to be over almost as suddenly as it had started. That was all right, though. The ship was cold, unfeeling at times. But now, everything felt right.