[ It's really not fair that Chris is going to leave for the bridge soon, that's Loki's last thought before he comes bucking wildly into that hand, gasping hard as he ruins the vest Chris is wearing. His high-pitched whine turns into a sob against Chris's neck with a full-bodied shudder to follow, Loki looping his arm around him to stay nestled close.
This is where he wants to be all day, duty and Starfleet be damned. He's overheated and sticky, only okay with it because of who did it to him.
[ The clock is ticking. They don't have time to linger, and yet when Loki bucks in his arms and spurts all over Chris's hand, he does nothing to encourage him to pull away. Instead, he dots light little kisses over what bits of Loki's skin he can reach, leaving his hand tucked down the front of Loki's pants for now.
Just a minute longer. That's all he needs. ]
There you go. Well done, sweet thing. You're so good.
[ With his head resting on Chris's shoulder Loki pets down that broad chest and smears his come over his shirt a little more, only a bit regretful he didn't mess up the gold one. ]
[ Thankfully, Chris has other shirts. He's not really thinking much about that right now, thought, preoccupied by the way Loki cuddles up against him, the arm flung around his shoulders, the head nestled in against his shoulder. ]
I know, baby. I know.
[ Next to no time left. He still doesn't pull away. ]
[ The agreeable grumble he gives comes with a nuzzle, then a kiss to Chris's cheek once he raises his head. The blue shirt is similarly ruined which he's also quite proud of, all the sweet things and babys keep his mood buoyant no matter how annoyed he is. ]
Shall I make us decent? It'll be faster than wasting time moving.
[ He cranes his head back just a little so he can see Lokis face when he lifts his own off of Chris's shoulder, smiling and quirking an eyebrow at him. ]
If you wouldn't mind.
[ He finally pulls his hand free of Loki's pants after giving him a tender little squeeze goodbye. ]
[ The answering shiver that touch gets is the reason Loki clears his throat, visibly shaking his head to focus. He snaps his fingers and his magic races over them like water, green shimmering away the mess and dishevelled clothes to leave them looking prim and proper in their full uniforms.
... Except for Chris's hair. Loki bites his lip as he tries not to laugh, reaching up to brush the tussled strands back. ]
Apparently I can't override just how good you look like this.
[ A small shiver races down his spine in the wake of Loki's magic, his undershirt disappearing and a new one replacing it, overlayed with his gold tunic. He can even feel the film of sweat that had cropped up all over his skiing being wiped away, leaving him feeling as fresh as if he's just stepped out of the sonic shower.
He gives Loki a small, clearly joking frown. ]
Hardly regulation, having my hair like this.
[ He can probably comb it in the turbolift up to the bridge, but there's really no way for him to get it to look as normal without help or at least five minutes in the bathroom. Oh well. The bridge will just have to survive seeing him with flat hair. ]
[ Meanwhile, all the sweat has vanished from Loki's hair which bounces around to frame his face. He steps back to brush imaginary dust off Chris's shoulders, appraising his handiwork; the faint scent of ozone permeates the kitchen, clean and sharp.
The communicator on the other end of the breakfast bar goes off for perhaps the millionth time. ]
Have a good day at work. [ Smooch! ] Don't worry about me, I'll keep myself entertained and busy.
[ Chuckling, Chris shakes his head at Loki's antics, well aware all he's really doing is just encouraging him but being unable to stop himself. He's not fooled: he knows Loki could have fixed his hair, especially considering what his own hair looks like now, but belaboring the point seems rather pointless. He'll let Loki have his fun for now.
Scooping up his communicator and dropping it in his pocket, he runs his fingers through his hair and snags an arm around Loki's waist for another quick kiss and a flat look delivered at point-blank range. ]
[ There's not much else Chris can do or say right now, so with one last lingering look, he turns towards the door and heads out into the corridor, not looking back over his shoulder to see Loki disappearing behind the automatic does even though he wants to. They'll see each other later.
Whatever mischief Loki might get up to — and he's not dumb enough to think there won't be any mischief — it probably won't be too bad, and there are four hundred something other souls on this ship who can deal with it before Chris. It'll be fine.
Looking at his reflection in the turbolift doors, he chuckles and flattens down his hair as best he can, taking a bracing breath and striding out on to the bridge as soon as the doors slide open. ]
Good morning, everyone. [ He gives a little wave and a sheepish kind of smile to his helmsmen, who both turn to look at him, their eyebrows rising at the state of his hair. At least his uniform is tidy. ] Overslept.
[ The first odd thing that reaches the bridge is a report of several admittances to sickbay sharing the same symptoms: hallucinations of a black horse running through the corridors only to disappear at the end, a fox walking over the consoles in engineering (and being petted before it ran away), and a bear roaring in a mess hall over the replicator. All the reports are confident these visions were false, everyone is perfectly fine and M'Benga shoots Spock the report simply so he can relay it to the captain.
It dies down for a couple of hours, after the morning, and most of the crew wonder if they didn't eat something from a dodgy replicator the night before.
Then around three in the afternoon, a space-shark (literally, a shark radiating cosmic energy) starts following the Enterprise. Then another, and more, until around twenty of the great white monsters of the spaceways are trailing in the Enterprise's wake and they work themselves into a frenzy trying to bite at the hull. That ... is a rather more serious issue until shields are turned on and the beasts occasionally ding themselves off it, instead. ]
Chris was in a good mood, jovial and relaxed, cracking jokes with the other members of staff who were nearby, catching up on reports. Perhaps foolishly, he had allowed himself to think that it was going to be a relaxing day and nothing bad would happen — it was ironic that Spock, of all people, kept being the one to remind him not to jinx anything — and then the first report of hallucinations was sent along to his padd.
On its face, there could be any explanations for that. The Enterprise sees many odd things out in space, a horse or a bear might be strange, but was probably ultimately harmless. (The fox he was suspicious about, especially if it allowed people to pet it. He wasn't going to say anything just yet, though, preferring to bide his time until he had more data.)
The space sharks came later. At first, he had thought perhaps it was a gormagander, mistaken by a crewmember who wasn't familiar with the giant cosmozoan on account of how rare they have become, but once the creature that was following them was put up on the view screen, Chris's hopes died. ]
What the hell is that thing?
[ That thing, apparently, is just the first in a whole flock of them, and it isn't long before they have to put shields up to protect the nacelles from being devoured by fucking space sharks.
[ The sharks swarm from one area of the ship to the other, attacking along the route they follow. Loki is there, wandering the ship, oblivious to the sharks having caught his scent, and in the guise of Lieutenant Lukas having a fun day faffing about with a far less focused work ethic than in previous days.
The largest shark is over a hundred feet long and bullies the smaller ones aside, looming over the ship where it glides with a dead-eyed gaze. ]
[ No one on the bridge has ever seen anything like this before, and once scans definitely indicated that the creatures were not, in fact, endangered space whales, suggestions were lobbied back and forth as to what to do about it. It was hard to argue that they should indiscriminately fire to kill...whatever those things are, considering that most of them were just tailing them more or less harmlessly, but the fact that Chris had followed La'an's suggestion for yellow alert with alacrity sort of undercut that assessment. ]
Ortegas. [ Erica's dark eyes snap back to him, waiting to hear what he wants her to do. ] See if you can disable that big one. I'd rather not kill any of them if we don't have to, but I'd also prefer them not take a bite out of my ship.
[ There's a lot of commotion by the windows of the deck that Loki's turbolifts lets him out on, astonished shouts as crew crane to get a better look before hurrying on their way.
Loki steps up to see what all the fuss is about and blanches, lips parting on a Oh, no. The nearest shark swerves in and gets fried by the shield, swimming off in distress, and before the others can try their look the shadow of something veering off the top of the ship blankets the hallways in darkness.
Loki swallows when he comes level with the giant eye of the largest shark, taking careful steps back. ]
You're a big one, aren't you? Stay there, nice sharky ... No!
[ Well. There isn't much Loki can do to stop the beast lunging for the ship and rocking it with the force of a buffeting blow, but he does race back to the turbolift to get somewhere less visible. ]
[ The ship being rocked off its bearings is sadly not an unusual occurrence, and Chris once more makes a note to get Hemmer to talk to Starfleet about installing some sort of internal shock absorber, or at least some seatbelts so that they're not constantly being flung from their seats every time someone decides to shoot at them...
Or something decides to eat them.
The red alert klaxons are loud and jarring on purpose, but they never get any easier for Chris to hear.
Instructing weapons control to take as many controlled shots as they believe necessary, Chris prays to whatever gods are listening that he's not going to lose his ship today. He might survive — he has to hang on for nearly a decade in order to save those cadets — but that doesn't mean the rest of his ship is going to be so lucky. ]
[ Y i k e s. Starsharks are aggressively territorial but he wasn't aware this universe had any ... unless they followed him through his rift in dimensions or sniffed him out from the very farthest corners of this sector of space. Fierce and hungry, those are the only two emotions the beasts have, and they all want to eat Loki.
In the turbolift he grabs the guidance handle and winces as he says, "Bridge! I think."
All the way up, Loki feels incredibly queasy; not because he fears the shark, which he does, but because he is heading directly toward admitting his fault in something to a man he would have rather avoided on the matter. When the doors hiss open and he steps out onto the bridge, flaring red alarms going off, he swallows and searches for Chris with his eyes. ]
[ Chris is, currently, hunched over the display panel between Lieutenants Ortegas and Christina, one hand on the back of Erica's chair as they confer in harsh whisper-yells about what they need to do in order to either disable the threat or get clear of it.
The hiss of the door sliding open gets lost in the commotion, but the way Spock's, "Lieutenant, you are not authorized to be on the bridge during Red Alert," cuts through the noise around him is more than enough to draw Chris's attention, and he immediately turns his head to see just who decided now would be a great time to gallivant up to the bridge to sight-see during an emergency situation.
For a moment, he looks furious, but then the fact that Loki looks sick to his stomach seems to filter through, and his forbidding expression softens.
He still looks pretty alarmed, which he thinks is reasonable. ]
L-lukas. What the hell are those things and what do they want with my ship?
[ Loki shoots Spock a 'Sorry, gotta talk to the captain!' smile and hurries over, well aware of the science officer's gaze resting heavily on his back. ]
They're starsharks, also called space sharks. They devour flesh imbued with energy on the ... cosmic scale. [ He tries to hitch up a laugh and half-fails, looking awkward as the curious eyes of the bridge crew fix on him in turn. ] They don't want your ship, Chr— Captain.
[ Pushing away from Erica's station, Chris half-jogs up from the depression in the middle of the room to meet Loki so they're not shouting across a space of ten feet or more, his hand automatically rising to cup Loki's elbow without him noticing it.
He's not called one of the brightest tactical minds in the Federation for nothing; Loki's hesitation, the face he's making as he nearly slips and calls Chris by his name, all these little details add up to paint a picture he doesn't particularly like, one that has his grip on Loki's arm tightening slightly as his eyes narrow. ]
[ They must sound like absolute fucking lunatics to anyone close enough to hear, Spock is already starting to make his way over on Loki's peripheral vision. Even when Loki hushes his voice to be tactful, he's certain the vulcan is listening from his station. ]
They eat deities, they're like [ don't laugh! ] bacon to them. [ His touch finds Chris's front to rest there with something like reassurance and Loki hurriedly speaks because he thinks he's three seconds away from getting moved over by a blue blur. ] I didn't know you had any over here or I would have brought better weapons. Let me go out there and try to reason with the big one.
[ Even with members of the crew with whom Chris has served for years — Una, or Spock, or even Erica — Chris doesn't reach out like this, or let them reach out to him in turn. Maybe it'll just be assumed it's because of the fraught circumstances of the moment, the heightened adrenaline felt by anyone in danger of being devoured by a giant sea creature that just so happened to survive in outer space.
One who had a taste for cosmic flesh, apparently. ]
Don't be ridiculous. I'm not sending you out there alone. [ Like he's Chris's to send anywhere. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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This is where he wants to be all day, duty and Starfleet be damned. He's overheated and sticky, only okay with it because of who did it to him.
Home, Chris says, and Loki nods in exhaustion. ]
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Just a minute longer. That's all he needs. ]
There you go. Well done, sweet thing. You're so good.
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I don't want you to go ...
[ One clingy god: that's Chris's problem now. ]
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I know, baby. I know.
[ Next to no time left. He still doesn't pull away. ]
I have to.
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Shall I make us decent? It'll be faster than wasting time moving.
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If you wouldn't mind.
[ He finally pulls his hand free of Loki's pants after giving him a tender little squeeze goodbye. ]
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... Except for Chris's hair. Loki bites his lip as he tries not to laugh, reaching up to brush the tussled strands back. ]
Apparently I can't override just how good you look like this.
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He gives Loki a small, clearly joking frown. ]
Hardly regulation, having my hair like this.
[ He can probably comb it in the turbolift up to the bridge, but there's really no way for him to get it to look as normal without help or at least five minutes in the bathroom. Oh well. The bridge will just have to survive seeing him with flat hair. ]
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The communicator on the other end of the breakfast bar goes off for perhaps the millionth time. ]
Have a good day at work. [ Smooch! ] Don't worry about me, I'll keep myself entertained and busy.
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Scooping up his communicator and dropping it in his pocket, he runs his fingers through his hair and snags an arm around Loki's waist for another quick kiss and a flat look delivered at point-blank range. ]
Be good.
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Of course. I'm a lieutenant with responsibilities, didn't you know?
[ The biggest green eyes bat their lashes innocently. He pats Chris on the chest and gives him a gentle push. ]
Go, be gallant and heroic. I'll meet you later!
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Whatever mischief Loki might get up to — and he's not dumb enough to think there won't be any mischief — it probably won't be too bad, and there are four hundred something other souls on this ship who can deal with it before Chris. It'll be fine.
Looking at his reflection in the turbolift doors, he chuckles and flattens down his hair as best he can, taking a bracing breath and striding out on to the bridge as soon as the doors slide open. ]
Good morning, everyone. [ He gives a little wave and a sheepish kind of smile to his helmsmen, who both turn to look at him, their eyebrows rising at the state of his hair. At least his uniform is tidy. ] Overslept.
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It dies down for a couple of hours, after the morning, and most of the crew wonder if they didn't eat something from a dodgy replicator the night before.
Then around three in the afternoon, a space-shark (literally, a shark radiating cosmic energy) starts following the Enterprise. Then another, and more, until around twenty of the great white monsters of the spaceways are trailing in the Enterprise's wake and they work themselves into a frenzy trying to bite at the hull. That ... is a rather more serious issue until shields are turned on and the beasts occasionally ding themselves off it, instead. ]
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Chris was in a good mood, jovial and relaxed, cracking jokes with the other members of staff who were nearby, catching up on reports. Perhaps foolishly, he had allowed himself to think that it was going to be a relaxing day and nothing bad would happen — it was ironic that Spock, of all people, kept being the one to remind him not to jinx anything — and then the first report of hallucinations was sent along to his padd.
On its face, there could be any explanations for that. The Enterprise sees many odd things out in space, a horse or a bear might be strange, but was probably ultimately harmless. (The fox he was suspicious about, especially if it allowed people to pet it. He wasn't going to say anything just yet, though, preferring to bide his time until he had more data.)
The space sharks came later. At first, he had thought perhaps it was a gormagander, mistaken by a crewmember who wasn't familiar with the giant cosmozoan on account of how rare they have become, but once the creature that was following them was put up on the view screen, Chris's hopes died. ]
What the hell is that thing?
[ That thing, apparently, is just the first in a whole flock of them, and it isn't long before they have to put shields up to protect the nacelles from being devoured by fucking space sharks.
Space sharks. ]
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The largest shark is over a hundred feet long and bullies the smaller ones aside, looming over the ship where it glides with a dead-eyed gaze. ]
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Ortegas. [ Erica's dark eyes snap back to him, waiting to hear what he wants her to do. ] See if you can disable that big one. I'd rather not kill any of them if we don't have to, but I'd also prefer them not take a bite out of my ship.
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Loki steps up to see what all the fuss is about and blanches, lips parting on a Oh, no. The nearest shark swerves in and gets fried by the shield, swimming off in distress, and before the others can try their look the shadow of something veering off the top of the ship blankets the hallways in darkness.
Loki swallows when he comes level with the giant eye of the largest shark, taking careful steps back. ]
You're a big one, aren't you? Stay there, nice sharky ... No!
[ Well. There isn't much Loki can do to stop the beast lunging for the ship and rocking it with the force of a buffeting blow, but he does race back to the turbolift to get somewhere less visible. ]
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Or something decides to eat them.
The red alert klaxons are loud and jarring on purpose, but they never get any easier for Chris to hear.
Instructing weapons control to take as many controlled shots as they believe necessary, Chris prays to whatever gods are listening that he's not going to lose his ship today. He might survive — he has to hang on for nearly a decade in order to save those cadets — but that doesn't mean the rest of his ship is going to be so lucky. ]
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In the turbolift he grabs the guidance handle and winces as he says, "Bridge! I think."
All the way up, Loki feels incredibly queasy; not because he fears the shark, which he does, but because he is heading directly toward admitting his fault in something to a man he would have rather avoided on the matter. When the doors hiss open and he steps out onto the bridge, flaring red alarms going off, he swallows and searches for Chris with his eyes. ]
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The hiss of the door sliding open gets lost in the commotion, but the way Spock's, "Lieutenant, you are not authorized to be on the bridge during Red Alert," cuts through the noise around him is more than enough to draw Chris's attention, and he immediately turns his head to see just who decided now would be a great time to gallivant up to the bridge to sight-see during an emergency situation.
For a moment, he looks furious, but then the fact that Loki looks sick to his stomach seems to filter through, and his forbidding expression softens.
He still looks pretty alarmed, which he thinks is reasonable. ]
L-lukas. What the hell are those things and what do they want with my ship?
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They're starsharks, also called space sharks. They devour flesh imbued with energy on the ... cosmic scale. [ He tries to hitch up a laugh and half-fails, looking awkward as the curious eyes of the bridge crew fix on him in turn. ] They don't want your ship, Chr— Captain.
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He's not called one of the brightest tactical minds in the Federation for nothing; Loki's hesitation, the face he's making as he nearly slips and calls Chris by his name, all these little details add up to paint a picture he doesn't particularly like, one that has his grip on Loki's arm tightening slightly as his eyes narrow. ]
So they want... you?
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They eat deities, they're like [ don't laugh! ] bacon to them. [ His touch finds Chris's front to rest there with something like reassurance and Loki hurriedly speaks because he thinks he's three seconds away from getting moved over by a blue blur. ] I didn't know you had any over here or I would have brought better weapons. Let me go out there and try to reason with the big one.
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One who had a taste for cosmic flesh, apparently. ]
Don't be ridiculous. I'm not sending you out there alone. [ Like he's Chris's to send anywhere. ]
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[ He's a bit too distracted by the giant shark buffeting the ship to begin an argument, stumbling into Chris as a result. ]
I'll go on the hull and talk to it, I can stay within the force-field if it makes you feel any better. It's going to start biting before long!
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