Lounging Around, Part I

Posted on Sat Nov 29th, 2025 @ 3:13am by Lieutenant Jean-Baptiste Dorsainvil & Ensign Wrenleigh Reed

1,715 words; about a 9 minute read

Mission: Peril at the Unification Accords
Location: Wrenleigh Reed's Quarters, Deck 13
Timeline: MD 10, 0845 Hours

The morning light in Wren's quarters didn't so much shine as drift--just thin and amber-tinted, shaped by the ship's diurnal cycle rather than any real sun. It was a system utilized by most of the crew to keep the circadian rhythm working and healthy. It slanted across the bed in long, gentle bars, warming the tangle of sheets and the slow rise and fall of Wren's breath beside him.

Jean-Baptiste lay on his side, one hand tucked beneath his cheek, feeling the slight vibration of the woman laying next to him who made his heart sing while she purred in her sleep.

He rolled onto his back, staring at the pattern of light on the ceiling, still wondering how he had fallen in love with this incredible woman within days of arriving aboard Astrea. In any other world, he'd have considered their relationship nothing but lust--burning hot and quickly before fading. This was not lust. It was the deepest kind of connection two people could form. It's like I've always known her, he thought.

Wren was blissfully asleep, happy and content. The night previous had been lovely: a home cooked meal paired with some nice wine to celebrate JB's promotion, followed by a lovely little walk and watching an old movie before heading to bed.

She had constantly been wondering why it felt so natural being with him, like they'd crossed paths before in another life somewhere down the line years ago. And like it was meant to be. Any kind of research on him would indicate they hadn't crossed paths, but somehow Wren just knew.

A shift from her subconscious to roll onto her side woke her up briefly, her blue-grey eyes fluttering open through the bits of hair that fell over them. Even though it had been a few times they'd spent the night together, it was all still fairly new to her and she was surprised to find him watching her.

A soft sleepy smile crossed her face, "Good morning."

JB shifted to his side, facing Wren and her subtle form beneath the sheets. Running a hand up her arm and to her bare shoulder, he smiled at her. "Good morning, you."

Wren shifted closer at the touch and pulled the sheet up slightly to cover herself just that little bit more. "Last night was fun, I think promotions should happen all the time," she said, the sleepiness in her voice holding a hint of playfulness to it.

Jean-Baptiste let his fingers drift over her shoulder, light enough that it almost wasn't a touch at all. It was warmth saying, I'm here, still here.

He huffed a quiet laugh. "If promotions come with nights like that, cherie, I'll put in for one every week." His voice was deep but soft--loosened by sleep and by her.

"As long as you put in the work that comes along with it," Wren put her hand on his chest and moved to kiss him, softly and slowly, feeling his heart beating the steady rhythm under her hand. She wasn't the one to fall hard, but he was making it so easy for her.

She giggled at the nip on her lip and slowly broke the kiss off after a couple of minutes, otherwise she knew she'd be there all day, and nothing would get done by either of them. "I'm thinking a hot shower folllowed by some breakfast in bed would make a good start to the day, thoughts? Otherwise, I think we'd just stay here all day."

JB caught her hand before she could pull it away, pressing his palm over hers where it rested on his chest. Her kiss still lingered on his lips--warm and more than a little dangerous. He could feel her trying to be good, to be responsible, to start the day like actual Starfleet officers.

He shook his head. "No shower," he murmured, his thumb stroking the inside of her wrist. "Not yet."

A playful roll of the eyes and a soft laugh came from Wren as she melted back into him and her sleepiness began to disappear. It started with a kiss and then heaven unfurled from there.

* * * *

After a lengthy period of time had elapsed and the two of them had made good use of the morning, Wren lay there in a happy, blissful daze as she stared up at the ceiling. She let out a contented sigh and smiled at JB.

"You're amazing, you know that, right?" She held up her hand for him to take.

Jean-Baptiste laced his fingers through hers like a ribbon through delicate wrapping paper. Her hand was warm, her pulse still quick beneath the pad of his thumb.

The air in Wren's quarters had gone warm and carried hints of a post-storm sweetness. It was like the air had become supercharged from bursts of energy after intense lovemaking. The amber light had climbed higher, shining across her collarbone in a vibrant gold that made him want to lean over and kiss every inch of it again.

"Amazing?" he said, his slight Haitian accent slipping through. "That's a big title for just one man, cherie."

He turned onto his side, propping himself up on an elbow. From here he could see the way her hair fanned across the pillow--wild and perfect. The way her lips carried a slight swell from kissing him senseless. And her freckles--each one memorized in such a short period of time.

JB brought her knuckles to his mouth, kissing them slowly. "You make it very easy to be whatever you want me to be."

It may have been the morning affairs, or it may have been something else, but Wren would've asked to stay forever if they'd been seeing each other longer.

"Well," she started to suggest as she stretched out gently, "what about mine and you come around here a bit more often?"

JB felt the very inside of his soul being tickled with her slight London accent. "You keep smiling at me like that, Wren, I may never leave this room." He winked at her and playfully bit her hand.

"Ow!" Wren said with a laugh as she pulled back her hand from him. She was thankful that her forwardness hadn't been picked up on, so she was able to play it off easily enough. Taking the opportunity, she rolled away from him and sat on the edge of the bed, leaning down to pick up the first bit of clothing she could find and putting it on: his shirt.

She stood up and fluffed out her copper hair from beneath the collar, causing the shirt to ride up just that little bit further, "For that, I'm getting a coffee." Wren poked out her tongue at him and walked off toward the replicator.

He watched her go with a big smile that he tried--and failed--to hide. Wren in his shirt looked like mischief disguised as domesticity: bare legs, wild copper hair, the hem much higher than the law allowed. It hit him harder than her teasing ever could.

He shifted up the pillows, hands behind his head, still warm and very loose from the morning's tangle. "That's my shirt, you know," he called after her. "Regulation states you have to at least ask permission before commandeering a superior officer's uniform."

"In all fairness, Lieutenant," Wren looked back over her shoulder at him, "You're more than welcome to come and get it off me if you want." She went back to making the coffees and added, "I don't hear you complaining too much about it though?"

Jean-Baptiste let out a low, helpless laugh slipping out before he could model it into anything tamer. She was standing there at the replicator like she owned the whole quadrant, wearing nothing but his shirt and a grin sharp enough to cut through neutronium.

He pushed himself upright, sheets falling to his waist. "Complain?" he echoed. "Non, cherie. I’m just trying to understand how you managed to steal my clothes and my dignity before I’ve had caffeine."

"It's a gift, what can I say?" Wren watched as a black coffee shimmered into existence, the smell becoming intoxicating to her. She pulled it from the machine once it had finished and placed it over to the side before putting in her own order, a mochacinno with emphasis on the chocolate.

Once both were finished, she brought them over to the bed and handed the black one to JB before sitting on the edge of the bed, "The best coffee for sure is from the Maple Leaf, a woman named Aislinn makes them and banana bread to die for."

JB brought the mug to his mouth but the steam curling from the dark liquid was a clear indication it was just too hot to drink right now. He placed it on the opposite bedside table and turned back to Wren. "The Maple Leaf? Any connection to Canada?"

Wren shook her head, "Your guess is as good as mine on that, I have no idea. Maybe?" The mocha was a bit too hot as well, though not as hot as the straight black coffee, and she put in on her lap, her hands around it.

"You know who Aislinn seems like she would be good for? Lieutenant Commander Keel, she might get the stick out from him." Wren laughed again, she actually liked and respected her boss and they had a funny working relationship that was built on mutual respect and sarcasm. "I mean that in the nicest way, of course." Plus, who didn't benefit from a more relaxed boss?

"Keel's a good man," JB said, finding his way to the edge of the bed. He came up behind Wren and wrapped an arm around her, his hand feeling her soft, firm stomach while he kissed her back. "I can't imagine anyone thinking he'd be hard to work for."

Wren agreed as she held her coffee away from him and giggled as he kissed her, "You're right, he's a good man. Definitely not hard to work for at all." She let her voice trail off at the thought of it.


~To Be Continued~

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