Chapter Text
The bridge of the Enterprise-D was bathed in its usual low, rhythmic hum, but the tactical console was practically radiating static electricity. Worf stared down at the display, his forehead ridges knit tight.
“You look like you’re trying to vaporize the console with your mind, Lieutenant,” Riker said, his voice a low, smooth rumble as he stepped up behind the tactical station. He leaned in close, resting a heavy, lingering hand on Worf’s shoulder. “Alexander still giving you a hard time about the mud baths?”
Worf stiffened under the touch, his dark eyes locking onto the First Officer. “Human parenting methods are…highly inefficient, Commander. Ambassador Troi is corrupting my son’s warrior spirit.”
“Oh, come on. A little holodeck fun won’t kill his honor,” Riker smirked, his thumb brushing slightly against Worf’s uniform. The tension between the two men stretched, thick and unspoken, until a sudden, furious shout shattered the peace.
“Q! Get your hands off of that!”
Behind the closed doors of the ready room, Picard was losing his mind. Q was currently lounging across the desk, casually tossing an artifact into the air.
“Oh, Jean-Luc, don’t be such a bore,” Q sighed, catching the relic with a smirk. “I travel across the continuum just to see you, and I don’t even get a proper greeting? Where is the Starfleet hospitality?”
“My hospitality ended the moment you breached my personal quarters!” Picard snapped. Driven to absolute, cramp-inducing exasperation, the Captain stepped firmly into Q’s space, grabbing him by the collar and slamming him hard against the wall. “What do you want?”
Q’s eyes flared with pure delight at the sudden physical proximity. “My, my, Jean-Luc. I didn’t know you liked it rough.”
“Answer me, Q!” Picard growled, his face inches from the entity’s.
“If you insist on holding me this close,” Q whispered, his trademark smirk widening, “It would be terribly rude not to do this.”
Before Picard could process the threat, Q leaned in and caught him completely off guard, pressing his lips firmly to the Captain’s in a bruising, chaotic kiss. Picard’s eyes widened in sheer shock—and then Q snapped his fingers.
With a blinding flash of white light and a sharp pop, they vanished from the ready room and materialized directly in the center of the main bridge.
Picard was still flushed, his fingers desperately gripping Q’s collar, while Q’s arms were wrapped tightly around the Captain’s waist, entirely refusing to break the kiss.
“What the—” Riker started, his hand instantly dropping from Worf’s shoulder.
Worf’s phaser was clear of its holster in half a second. “Intruder alert!”
Down in the well, Data tilted his head at a precise 90-degree angle. “Captain, my sensors indicate that public displays of affection are generally restricted to personal quarters. Furthermore, the probability of Q possessing lips is—”
“Data, not now!” Riker barked, though a massive, smug grin was already breaking across his bearded face.
Deanna Troi simply sat back in her chair, elegantly clasping her hands together as she watched the spectacle. “I told you to, Jean-Luc,” she murmured quietly to herself, radiating pure, professional vindication.
Q finally broke the kiss with a gasp, looking at the stunned crew before laughing his ass off. “Oh, the looks on your faces! Priceless!” He raised his hand, his eyes locked onto a mortified Picard who was frantically smoothing down his uniform. “Let’s see how you handle a bit of scenery, shall we?”