You adjust your Starfleet uniform. The red fabric has been clinging lately, but you're hoping it clings in all the right places for what you're about to do.
As you approach the glass prison, you eye the prisoner hungrily. You're usually rather shy, but you've had your eye on this one since the minute he popped up with the big firepower and all that leather. You briefly consider whether or not all the theatrics are trying to compensate for something. But then you realize, 300 years ago, when they made everything "better," they probably would have factored those sorts of things in. If you catch my drift.
You give him a coy smile, but he's all hard angles and eyes that bore right into you and hair all slicked back, so you're not going to get anywhere with him while you're on different sides of the glass.
You press the red button that will allow you to enter the cell, and do so. This could be fun.
He doesn't bother to get up when you invade his space. He sits there, rather pompous, perfect posture, with his hands on his knees and his jaw set in a very intimidating manner.
You stand in front of him, about a foot away, and cross your arms while you tap your feet in a very annoying manner.
"Are you trying to elicit a response from me?" He asks in a rumbling voice. You stop tapping your foot.
"Maybe," you reply, and reach your hand out to run your fingers through his hair. You've wanted to do that all day- no prisoner should look that well put-together.
He finally looks up at you, and you swear there is a hint of confusion behind that grim façade he keeps up. Your eyes meet, and it's like being hit with forty-seven phasers set to stun all at the same time. Fucking hell, he has that down pat. You nearly come in your uniform after that encounter. If he can do that with his eyes, you don't want to know what he can do with his hands.
You lower your hand to his face, and run your index finger along the angle of his cheekbone. "I've been wanting to do that ever since you beamed up onto this ship," you whisper. He's still staring at you, and it takes about a millisecond for you to realize that in his superhuman capabilities, he's grabbed you by the waist and has you pushed up against the glass wall of the cell.
He uses his body as a prison of its own, so you're caught between a glass wall and a… hard place. You feel every inch of him here, and you're pretty sure at this point he wasn't compensating for anything with all that firepower of his.
"Is this what you want?" he whispers, his hands planted firmly on your hips, his thumbs tracing their mark onto your hipbones. You close your eyes and nod.
"When you said you were better…" you whisper, eyes still closed, "at everything…"
He almost grins, and his lips find the hollow at your neck. They brush over your skin- he's only a centimeter away but it feels like he's completely taken over every part of you. "Everything," he responds, and his teeth bite down on your shoulder. You hope it will leave a mark.
He grabs your wrists at that point, and raises them above your head. You strain against him, but you like it. He bites your bottom lip, toying it with his teeth. You are pressed entirely against him when he runs his tongue up your neck, so you really have nowhere to go when you let out the most wanton noise.
He leans in even closer, the proximity is electrifying at this moment, more nuclear than anything, and he whispers in your ear… "Make… me…"
He doesn't get to finish his sentence when you hear an alarm blaring in the distance.
You come out of your dream in a haze and wake up in your bed. You're still in half dream mode, so you start to respond… "I can do zat!" You announce to your empty cabin. You sit up so abruptly you hit the bunk above you.
When it dawns on you what you just fantasized about, you place your face in your palms and whisper remorsefully… "No, no… I can't do zat… I cannot do zat…."