Sun, Moon, Stars, Rain
by The Enigmatic Big Miss Sunbeam

Jean-Luc loved the rain.

And because of that, Q had constructed a whole house on the holodeck, complete with decks and french doors, and now it sat in the rain of a holodeck blue twilight.

Jean-Luc stood in its drama. "Thank you, Q," he whispered.

"Mon plaisir, mon capitan."

Odd how normal everything felt now that they were lovers.

He looked at his partner.


Who said: "I wanted us to have a nice place to celebrate your return."

"Q, we've been apart for what? Two days."

"But . . . darling, we've only been together for what, ten days." Q made an amusing little face. "Two days is one fifth of our whole time. In your terms, that's about 12 years. In mine, a million. So see how much time it's really been."

"That sounds like something Mr. Data might point out."

Q looked at Jean-Luc, whose face had a curious closed look. "Well, Jean-Luc, I see you heard I hung around with Data while you were gone."

"I most certainly did hear about it. The second I got back from that debriefing, Mr. Data himself mentioned it. But he did not tell me everything, and I must say I am quite curious about what you two did together."

"So petty! So jealous! Mon amour, mon amour! We were merely doing research. Apres tout, I'm not just another pretty face."


"About the history of this whole God-who-loves-a-mortal thing."

Jean-Luc looked down; then he looked back up. "Q, is there something you're trying to tell me?"


"Perhaps . . . about the nature of God?"

"God's tricky, Jean-Luc." Q slumped against the wall and folded his arms in front of him. "V. tricky. See, all I was doing with Data was just making a big list. And I got to say: it was pretty cool!! We ended up using the standard-earthling data base of gods and mortals. Let's see, there's Yahweh and Mary. Zeus and Ganymede. Mudjeekeewis and Wenonah. Lotta weird names written on the immortals' bathroom walls."

"Q, stop this."

But he smiled at Q.

And Q leaned in and touched Jean-Luc's head: "Guess what I discovered, darling? Out of all the amorous paradigms in the universe, the one closest to us was in our own backyard all the time! Johnny. . . " and Q leaned in and whispered, "you are the moon and I am the sun. Inseparable in their unbreakable orbit. My heat and your cool. The chilled hollows of your fabulous skull greet my fire for all of your known eternity. We will never be apart."

Jean-Luc was taken aback. "The moon? You mean, there are no beautifully . . . personified boys?"

Q lifted his eyebrows. "A brilliant idea, Jean-Luc, but loving a god was tough on those beautifully personified boys! I mean, living forever while aging at a regular rate! Torn to death by dogs! Drowning! Oh, excuse me, I died and got made into a star! Rough stuff, baby. But the simple little story of the sun and moon hasn't been sad yet. We'll be together forever, or at least as long as fundamental energy lives."

"We don't even get to be Apollo and Diana?"

"Well, I am very Apollonian, now that you mention it."

"Indeed." Jean-Luc gave Q a cool look. "Apollo never wore that many clothes."

"Oh, really?"

"Yes, and I'd like to check out your Apollonian physique. I'll just sit on this very comfortable bed, while you . . ."

Q pulled his tunic and teeshirt off over his head and then pulled his Starfleet pants down.

And stood there, his hands at his waist.

"Continue," Jean-Luc ordered.

Q pulled off his briefs; now he was naked, folding his arms in front in him, splendidly erect.

And Jean-Luc's beeper beeped.

"Picard here," Jean-Luc said smoothly. Smiling at Q.

"Captain," Riker's voice said. "We're entering orbit in the Gallim-17 System according to plan. Just thought you'd like to know before you turn in."

"That's agreeable. Number One, you have the conn."

"Aye, Captain, and I`ll see you at the Delta shift. Riker out."

"My hero!" Q said. His arms were still folded in front of him. Neither man could quit smiling.

Then Jean-Luc swallowed. And he lay back on the bed. Still fully dressed.

"I don't want to undress, Q," he said. Teasing. Playing. Now that they could.

Q put his large warm hand on the front of Jean-Luc's pants and Jean-Luc looked down at the hand and blew out between his lips.

Then Q sat on the side of the bed and unzipped Jean-Luc's pants. "I'm just curious, Jean-Luc. At how big it can get."

Jean-Luc laughed. And closed his eyes. Q's hand felt wonderful on him. And then, with his eyes closed, he heard Q's body shift and felt Q's warm breath against his naked cock and then he was in Q's mouth.

Q was being quite deliberate, and Jean-Luc was slow in return as he fucked the back of Q's willing throat.

Then Q pulled back: "Can I sit on it?" he breathed.

"No," Jean-Luc said gently. Q looked at him, his dark eyes huge and waiting. "I have another plan." And he stood up and zipped up his pants. "Q, lean across the edge of the bed."

Then, when Q did, Jean-Luc pulled Q's legs open and then began to lick all between those long legs. Oh, he loved being buried in Q's lush flesh like this, he'd always loved with this with women, kissing them into ecstasy, hearing their wild cries far above his head, and Q was squirming and saying no with each breath and Jean-Luc pressed his mouth further against Q, his tongue finding as much of Q as it could, and Q wiggling and panting.

Jean-Luc pulled back. "Now, do yourself, Q."

And Q sat on the edge of the bed. But he didn't move his hands to himself.

"Jerk off?" he said, and put his huge hand on the front of Jean-Luc's pants.

Jean-Luc's ears rang a little.

"In a minute, I will, but first . . . " Q's voice was low, insinuating, and his hand moved intently over the bulge in Jean-Luc's pants.

Jean-Luc watched Q's hand; he looked up at Q's sober face, and then he looked back down at Q's hand. Which moved over and over very gently against his clothed erection; there was the slightest pressure at on the tip, which was already leaking into Jean-Luc's trousers. If Q would only do that a bit more, Jean-Luc could . . . he wasn't going to move.

He looked away. The lights in the house Q had constructed on the holodeck were gold, golden as sunlight, a red gold against the pale rainy blue of the holooutdoors, just like the sun and the moon, and he looked back down at Q's golden hand.

Q only had to rub it a little more. Jean-Luc closed his eyes and swallowed. "You have a big cock," he could hear Q whisper. "Let's do this at the beach some day. In swim trunks. Or just anywhere. In Ten Forward. Yeah, that's it: Ten Forward, at the back, watching some boring classical music and I'm going to pretend I dropped a napkin and kiss you quick right on the balls and then you'll scowl at me. Stop this, Q you'll pout, and we'll sit back and let the musicians do their dumdumdeedoo and meanwhile my hand is walking right over there, baby, right between your hot thighs and moving up and down and up and down kinda like what it's doing right now, and no one will ever know, and you'll . . . "

Jean-Luc began to breathe happily.

"Come for me, Jean-Luc, come for me." And Jean-Luc pressed himself forward and rocked gently against the warm fulcrum of Q's hand and thought about that and about kissing Q behind a potted plant at a reception with Q's huge hand wringing him into ecstasy and then in the ready room feigning interest in a padd but really being pummeled into a leisurely orgasm and all the time straight and strict in his Starfleet suit and he began to convulse in that suit and no one would know and he was still 100 percent Starfleet but his inner ecstasy would never quit and he groaned loudly and he could feel the sticky wetness in those trousers and his cock kept throbbing and he moved endlessly against Q and almost collapsed but Q caught him.

"Q, that was wonderful," Jean-Luc's voice was raspy, deep.

"Tell me what you really think."

"This damned fabric is so tight it's uncomfortable. But it does grips one rather well in this circumstance. Rather well indeed." His cock was still throbbing. He lifted his head. "Very nice, Q. Very very nice."

Q sat back on the bed. Naked. Still gleamingly erect.

And Jean-Luc got his mortal knees to his god, and took his god's hard cock in his mouth, oh, he was the clothed and mysterious little moon and here was the huge center of all energy and he was merely its satellite, responsible for his simple orbit, very responsible, clothed, and Q was naked as a great god, like the heart of light, like a god or a sun impossible to look at without blinking, and he was sucking that cock.

Q in his boyish exuberance had created this long lean body, lips and eyes and vivid color, and broad-shouldered, and he had also created for that body a big cock with a big head, one hard for Jean-Luc to take entirely in his mouth but he did his best and manipulated the slit carefully with his tongue and then flattened his tongue to caress the huge head of Q's cock and carefully caressed Q's testicles and Q was breathing through his nose and now pulsing against Jean-Luc and saying I love you and I love you and tomorrow night, up the ass, Picard.

Jean-Luc pulled back: "You or me?"

"Sun or moon, don't you mean, cocksucker? My sweet little cocksucker."

"And very pleased to suck your cock."

And Q began to fuck Jean-Luc's throat as Jean-Luc had his earlier and Q's erection was just supernaturally big, solar, hard, as if it would burst with its own energy, and Jean-Luc pushed Q's body back a bit so he could reach Q's puckered asshole and stuck his finger in there and felt it begin for Q, and Q wailed because he was so hot and Jean-Luc was so unrestrained inside that modest body and Q began to come.

"Damn, you are so good. It's quite uncanny," he said in one big lower-lip-biting rush to Jean-Luc.

They looked at each other.

So this was love.

"Let's get cleaned up and go to bed." he said to Q, "though I do hate to leave the rain."

Suddenly they were in the shower in Jean-Luc's wash station and Q was tenderly washing him. But unlike a normal shower which generally used water softened to an almost unbearable sweetness by the Starfleet water conditioners, this water was like real rain water, icy and metallic, hard, real, with drops as big as coins. And, when it was over, Jean-Luc was tired the way he would have been after walking through the rain, and he was grateful for the wonderful huge white warm towels Q wrapped all around him.

Then Q led him to his bed, and, after they lay down together and Jean-Luc was folded tight in Q's arms, Q whispered, "look in the corner, love." And Jean-Luc did, and Q had somehow rigged up a rain corner, rather like a fire place, but this was full of lightning and the beautiful sound of a hard rain against leaves and wood and a tin roof, and the light that shone from it was the palest rainy green-blue.

"I'm the moon and you're the sun," Jean-Luc said, sleepily watching the rain fall.

"Do you like that?"

"I do. I do like it. It has a certain equitable quality that is very pleasant."

"I mean, when Data and I were discussing all this god/mortal thing, we cast about the galaxy for awhile, but they don't call `em aliens for nothing. I didn't think we could relate! Like, you know, the old myth of Fek'lhr buttfucking the ancient Klingon king Yerg and all his descendants . . . well, that was just disturbing."


"Oh, it's okay; that was the OLD Testament Fek'lhr. New Testament Fek'lhr sent them flowers afterwards. My god, what a theology. No wonder Worf always looks so haunted."

"Stop, Q," Jean-Luc said sleepily. "Now you're just making things up."

"Shhhh, slip into your favorite dream, darling," Q whispered.

"Oh yes," and Jean-Luc was asleep and strolling with Q and the sun and the moon and the stars and the rain.

The End