Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek The Next Generation or any of the characters. All rights go to Paramount Pictures and Gene Roddenberry. I am by no means making money off of this story.

Des adieux et des hommes

Of gods and men

An original fan-fiction by ASTf

(Avid Star Trek Fan)

Chapter One: Unexplainable

Nothing existed outside of his quarters; not the Enterprise and not the galaxy beyond it. The universe had been condensed to this room. Everything revolving around him-or perhaps…?

He couldn't control his shallow breathing; his chest rising and falling as the heat pressed in around him. Sweat trickled down his neck and back; glistening beads of salty sweat crowning his upswept brows. He twitched ever so slightly as solid heat pressed up against his back. Warm breath tickled his ear causing his head to loll back to rest against a sturdy broad shoulder. "Mon amour."

The voice so deep and rich like velvet swept over his senses and he couldn't help but let out a soft moan as those strong, unbearably warm arms wrapped around him. He could feel those warm, soft lips pressed every so gently against the shell of his ear, that warm breath heating his already heated skin. His breath hitched as the others right hand began gently stroking his chest and stomach through his shirt. His body began to tremble slightly as the others left hand sank lower. His hips jerked shyly away from the gentle caress against his lower abdomen; the hand pausing for only a moment before continuing its travel south.

"N'ayez pas peur mon amour." The other breathed out lowly. Gently kissing the rounded top of his flushed ear. His trembling increased and his breath hitched slightly as that wandering hand found a warm place to rest. He whimpered as that warm, large hand slid between his thighs and cupped the bulge straining against his black trousers.

"Oh God." He panted out, hazel eyes sliding closed as he panted through parted lips. The full, warm lips of the other pressed against his temple. He whimpered as the hand sank further between his legs and those long slender fingers toyed gently with his trapped, defenseless testicles.

"How long has it been mon amour?" Those long fingers pressed against him a little more firmly. "Hmn?"

He couldn't help but whimper, his legs spreading a little further to accommodate that large hand. A chuckle brushed against his cheekbone. "To long I would imagine."

He wasn't sure when the others left hand had slid beneath his shirt to rub at his bare chest; but when those sturdy unforgiving fingers began pinching his erect nibbles he could barely contain himself. It was to much. It was all to much. The heat was unbearable! The room was boiling making it hard to breath. And oh how he needed to breathing. His lungs seemed to be working over time as he tried to pull in enough oxygen. His blood was aflame beneath his skin; sweat dripped along his exposed flesh, dampening his shirt and stinging his eyes. He whimpered as the fingers between his thighs pressed up against his trapped sac again. He whimpered, his body trembling uncontrollably. "P-please." He panted out, barely able to open his eyes.

Those wicked lips were pressed once again against his ear. The fingers twisted his nibbles sending ripples of pleasure throughout his body. How could something so uncomfortably be so pleasurable? Those fingers were not gentle. Oh no, they were quite brutal. Punishment that brought pleasure.

"Tsk, tsk Jean-Luc." The other chided. He gasped and his hips twitched slightly as the others hand slid forward and patted his straining erection. "You're already wet." The hand lifted; revealing a moist spot upon his crotch. It was unnoticeable unless caught in the light. The hand returned and squeezed him gently through his trousers. "You have been alone far to long mon amour."

"Please. Oh Please." He begged, biting his cheek slightly. He gasped and whimpered as that hand wriggled its way down his pants without undoing the button.

He moaned as those long fingers stretched out along his sweaty shaft. He couldn't imagine how the other managed to fit. His pants were extremely tight. Could there really be anymore room? "Please, please, please, please, please." His pleas became whimpers as those long fingers managed-somehow-to wrap around his shaft.

"Oui mon Capitaine. Pas besoin de mendier. Je vais yous donner exactement ce que vous voulez." The hand began a steady pace of massage. He couldn't contain himself. He moaned and whimpered, his hands clinging to the others free arm for dear life. He felt as if he let go everything would come to a crashing halt; and he didn't want that. He didn't want it to stop. The pleasure. The passion. He groaned. Those passionate words wrapped in that velvet voice; dripping with melted chocolate to coat his senses as the sensation grew. He could feel the heat pooling between his legs intensify. The coil deep within himself tightening to an almost painful breaking point.

"Ugh. Yes. Hmn. Please don't….uh….don't s-s-t-"

"Je ne vais pas."

The heat became even more intense. His trembling caused him to grow weak; the other his only support, his only grip on reality. The hand sped up, kisses grazed his ear. His whole body flushed, the heat rising to nearly unbearable limits; the coil snapped and a cry escaped him as-

Beep, beep, beep.

Hazel eyes snapped open and a shuddering gasp escaped pink lips as Jean-Luc Picard, Captain of the USS Enterprise sat bolt straight up in bed. He was momentarily disoriented as his chest rose and fell as he tried to gather some composure. He blinked, licked his lips and cleared his throat. "Off." He ordered and the beeping of his alarm went silent. He sighed, closing his eyes and flopping back down. He rubbed at his face with his hands and groaned. He could feel the warm sticky semen that coated his flaccid member and caused his testicles to stick to his thighs. He hid his eyes in the crook of his arm. He'd soiled himself; and all because of a dream. What was he? Some hormonal teenager? He was sixty-five-years-old damn it!

After a moment of self inflicted lecturing he rose to begin his day. While he showered and cleaned himself up he began wondering what exactly his dream had been about. He remembered it was hot, tender yet passionate. But he couldn't remember his partner. Did he see his partner? No. He'd been facing away. The longer he struggled to remember more about his dream, the faster it slipped through his fingers. He sighed. Like water. he thought. And like water, it was gone.

Authors Note: I am not exactly sure what I want to do with this. It could remain as it is just fine; or perhaps I could continue it. I do not know. Perhaps if enough people actually ADMIT that they enjoy the pairing and review I'll update. Just so you know-I do accept anonymous reviews. Don't be shy. No one will know that you like Q/P. ;)