DISCLAIMER: The Star Trek: Deep Space Nine characters are the property of Paramount Studios, Inc and Viacom. The story contents are the creation and property of C. Zdroj and are copyright (c) 2002 by C. Zdroj. This story is Rated NC-17.

A Break in the Rain
by C. Zdroj

Chronology Note: This story is set during the events of the ST:DS9 episodes "When It Rains," and "Tacking into the Wind." It can also be read as a precursor to my story "Holding and Letting Go," even though "Holding..." was written much earlier.
 
~~~

Kira's naked body curved upward as she straddled her lover on the narrow cot. Her legs eased apart and she released a tiny gasp as the warm, wet ache between her thighs was pierced and slowly filled. She felt more than heard Odo's deep sigh of pleasure as their bodies met and merged together.

For several heartbeats, she was still, impaled on him, listening to the pulses of her own body. Picking up on that internal rhythm, she began to move wordlessly, her eyes closed, her lips silently mouthing the words, "Yes ... oh yes, oh yesyesyes ..."

Odo's fingertips moved on the small of her back, stroking, pulling her snugly down against him so that her hips were cradled in his large, warm hands. They breathed together in soft, ragged gasps.

Kira kept her eyes shut, blocking out of sight the gray walls of the room, the corrugated metal shelves, the whole oppressively close Cardassian atmosphere; blocking out of memory everything but the image of her lover's smooth, angular face, eyes closed and lips open as he moved underneath her. She felt his hips, velvet-smooth as they rocked between her thighs, felt him inside her--a deep, satisfying fullness that her whole body clenched around, almost desperately. Her hands made fists in the bedsheets. The steady creak of the mattress became a counterpoint to the low, animal-like sounds of their pleasure in coupling.

It was not a place to make love--a stiflingly hot little root cellar of a room many meters below ground, cooled only by the ancient and rickety environmental unit that Kira had managed to snag from the supply room. She supposed that it would at least partially cover the noise they were making. On the other hand, she didn't especially care if Rusot and the others heard. She tilted her head back and groaned as Odo surged beneath her.

"Oh, Prophets ..." she gasped. "Odo ..." Any further words were swallowed up as her lips found his and their tongues mingled together in an almost liquid kiss. She tasted heat and light and mineral sweetness in his mouth. Odo's hands moved back up over her spine, squeezed her shoulders and pulled her even deeper into him. She wound herself around his body like ivy around a tree-trunk, her fingers sliding greedily over his skin, exploring the curve of his hip, the softness of his belly and flank. Kira drew slowly back from their kiss and listened to the soft intake of Odo's breath as his mouth released hers. She watched his face register pure pleasure as her hands skimmed over his unreal, perfect, water-smooth skin that was somehow more real than any flesh she had ever touched.

Kira reached lower, down the inside of his thigh and to the base of the erection he had formed. She let one finger stroke just along their join, along the moist edge of her lips and over the tender skin covering his shaft, until Odo began to laugh softly with acute, agonized joy. "Ohhhh ... Nerys," came his soft, throaty rasp, breathed low against her ear. "You wicked, wicked woman ..." 

"Why thank you, constable ..." she teased softly, licking along his throat and then burying her face in the side of his neck. She strained upward to nibble behind his earlobe, then felt his essence expand and thrum within her walls. Kira rolled her hips with a little moan of surprise, and Odo's hands moved on her breasts, his fingertips tracing circles around her hard, aching nipples. She growled, leaning down to kiss him once more. In the dimness she felt his outer contours growing slick and pliable, almost fluid as his form became less stable. She slid one hand carefully between their bellies and let one finger come gently to rest against Odo's navel, stroking in a tiny circle within that slight depression. She moved over him slowly, measuring her thrusts and watching how he reacted, watching his face grow taut.

"Ohhh, Prophets ..." he moaned. "Gods, Nerys!" His body arched and his eyes closed in anguished pleasure.

Odo gasped, and his hips bucked sharply beneath her, so that his thick smooth rod of flesh thrust up hard into Kira, making her curse and groan even as her pelvis ground down on him, forcing him deeper still. Kira rolled her hips firmly, biting her lip to keep from screaming.

Their fucking became rough and animal-like. She felt herself expand and contract around him. Odo made a soft moaning sound against her neck as the rhythms of her body moved him too. He shivered. Kira felt a stab of fear in that moment of primal closeness. "Stay with me ... " she whispered against his temple. It was a desperate plea. "Stay with me, Odo ..."

As she moved inexorably toward her orgasm, Kira stared down in amazement at Odo's supposedly "expressionless" mask of a face--a face that could render ecstacy or heartbreak with a twitch of the mouth or flash of the eyes. The smooth contours, the "blurring" of his features, seemed to amplify rather than hide emotion. Odo's face, she thought in that moment, was not some pale imitation of humanoid features, but might instead have been their original. His desire for her was desire itself, his pleasure in her the essence of all pleasure.

Kira lowered her head and let her tongue sweep over the soft brown halo of Odo's left nipple, sucking at him hard and hungrily, feeling his hands come up to squeeze her hips. They climaxed together, hard and noisily. Kira screamed. Odo groaned as if in deep anguish. Then they tumbled into the aftershock, holding each other, shaking and gasping for breath. Kira sprawled across Odo's chest, clutching his shoulders, listening to the frantic thudding of her own heart in the stillness.

"Prophets, I needed that," she whispered into his skin.

"I know," he rasped softly. "So did I."

For some moments they lay motionless, catching their breath, their bodies still fitted together. Odo's hand came up to lightly brush over Kira's cheek, to rest there against her skin. "What is it?" he said at last, his warm breath gently stirring her hair as he kissed her.

Kira pressed her face into his shoulder. Damn. She hadn't meant for him to see, to hear the anxiety in her voice. "Stay with me." Only here, in this bed, in a stolen moment and under the cover of her passion, could she ever have begged him not to die and leave her. Only here could she touch his body tenderly without him reading it as pity for his illness. She had not meant for him to sense the double meaning in her words and touches, but she should have known better. He had always been attuned to her emotional states even before they were lovers. Of course he sensed her anxiety, for she was shaking with it even as she lay in his embrace.

As the wet heat of tears began to sting her eyes, she felt his fingers sifting through her hair. He said her name softly, over and over, as he began to knead her shoulders. To feel his touch, so adept and so articulate, anyone would think that he had been making love to women his whole life. Yet Kira knew this was not so. This was for her alone--the skilled touch of his hands, the comforting, intimate closeness of his body.

"You're upset," he observed quietly, still kissing his way along her neck, still trying to soothe her.  "I'm not," she denied, even as she rubbed the tears away on his shoulder. "I just ... it's been a long day."

"And it's too warm in here," said Odo knowingly. He rolled Kira onto her back and regarded her thoughtfully. Despite herself, Kira laughed softly.

"Yes," she agreed. "It is."

Odo said nothing for a moment, but drew one of her hands away from his face and turned his head to place a kiss into her palm,and then to rub his cheek there with obvious pleasure, his eyes closed. "I should thank you ... for yesterday," he murmured.

"Oh?"

"For getting angry on my behalf." His voice was gently amused. "No one else ever does that for me."

Kira pulled him down to her, let her lips brush tantalizingly over his. "It wasn't difficult," she breathed, halfway to kissing him. "Rusot is easy to get angry at." She let her mouth come to rest against his temple. "I'm glad that you're here, Odo," she told him earnestly. "I'm not sure I could do this without you."

"I'm sure that you could," he replied. "But for whatever it's worth, I don't trust Rusot, either." He made the observation in a tone that was almost neutral. "I've had my eye on him for a while now." He raised his hands, and Kira slowly let her palms slide across his, so that their fingers could intertwine. Their kiss became deep as their grip on each other tightened. Afterward Kira rubbed her nose along Odo's cheek. "I hate it ... when you do that," she whispered.

"Kiss you?" he murmured against her forehead.

"No ..." she breathed, her lips gently finding his again. "When you read my mind like a datapadd."

"Do I?"

"All the damned time." Suddenly hungry now, she let her tongue tease at Odo's lips and then push roughly into his mouth. He permitted the intrusion, and for several moments their verbal conversation was stilled. Finally, Kira pulled back for a breath.

"I love you," she told him, striving to keep her voice from shaking.

"I know. I love you."

"And you don't have to worry about me, okay?"

"I wouldn't dream of it," said Odo. It was a lie and they both knew it, but Kira was grateful for Odo's collusion.

"About Rusot ..." she began.

"What about him?" Odo's voice shifted to a growl.

"You wouldn't believe what he asked me today."

"I'll bet I would."

Kira grinned wryly. "He seemed to want to know if you faked your orgasms. How's that for taking personal interest in someone?"

Odo regarded her with one of those priceless sardonic looks that he was so skilled in. "Shocking," he said mildly.

Kira was in fact, a little surprised to find that she was still seething about that particular exchange, now that she had mentioned it. Rusot had cornered her that morning, asking her tauntingly how it was to be with a changeling in bed. "Does the shapeshifter cry out?" the Cardassian had asked snidely. "Does he enjoy the feel of your skin against his? Or does the creature merely service my lady's desires? I've heard all the rumors of how ... amusing he was during the Occupation." The memory of his tone still made her burn with resentment. She lowered her voice. "I could be imagining things," she said to Odo, "but I don't like the way he looks at me--like I'm a piece of meat."

"That," said Odo softly, caressing her arm. "... is why I watch him."

"During the Occupation a Bajoran woman was only ever one thing to Cardassian soldiers," Kira mused, "... a target. Easy prey. I've never let myself be that--but here ... with all of them ... I'm always remembering what it used to be like, constantly having to watch your back. I just keep sensing that he's waiting for an opening, waiting for me to slip."

"He wants you to lose your temper," Odo observed. "To lose control. That's why he enjoys provoking you." He paused and gave her a thin smile. "I trust that you gave him a proper thrashing for impugning my honor."

"I left him holding his crotch in the cargo bay. Howling loudly."

Odo smiled. "You're a menace, Nerys."

"Well, I try," she said. She stroked the side of his face, wanting to ask how he was feeling. She sensed that he was covering up the true severity of his illness to spare her worry. It would be just like him. It really wasn't right, she thought, that he could always get her to confess when something was bothering her, but insisted on maintaining silence when it came to his own problems. It was, undoubtedly, one of the reasons it had taken them so long to become lovers.

"I couldn't let him talk about you that way ... not when ..." She stopped, not certain what she was trying to say. Not when you might be dying.  Odo tilted his head inquiringly. Kira found herself flushing bright red.

"When what?" he asked.

"When you're such an ... expressive lover," she said at last. "He seemed to think that you would be ..."

"Incapable of passion?"

"Well, yes."

To her astonishment, Odo let out a low chuckle.

"What?" demanded Kira.

"I get the distinct impression that a great many people are surprised to see us together, for exactly that reason."

Kira slipped her arms around him. "If I didn't know you better, constable, I would think you were pleased by that idea."

"I'm pleased that you are here, with me, now." He buried his face in her hair and gave a soft, low growl. "I'm pleased every time you touch me ..." he breathed. He kissed her again, slow and deep, and Kira felt as if she were reeling back, falling into something, some uncertainty that she dared not confront just yet. She let her tongue find his and seemed to gently meld with his whole body in that instant. Linking ... perhaps this was what it was like.

She had loved him always, it now seemed to her, loved him without knowing that she did: resting in his silence, admiring his wisdom, secretly yearning for his touch and yet somehow believing that he would never offer it. As she let her tongue explore Odo's mouth, as she felt his smooth torso arching up beneath her, she was amazed that she could ever have been unaware of how deeply she loved this man--and how desperately she needed him. It could only have been some foolish, prejudiced, short-sightedness in her that had led her to assume he could never feel as she did. Because he was a changeling. Because he was an "unreal" humanoid. An alien.

Oh no, she thought, taking his face between her hands and feeling him gasp as her mouth tasted the smooth flesh of his neck. You are no alien to me. She let her hands slide under his shoulders, drawing him into herself, wishing that there could be more, that there could be a future for them together, her body and her passions crying out that there had to be, her soldier's mind knowing better, cautioning, reminding her to think only of now.

It was not the first time that Kira Nerys had shared a desperate night of lovemaking with a comrade. It was not the first time she'd let herself draw strength and reassurance from the touch of another warm body in the face of an uncertain future. Yet when Odo's arms slipped around her, when his hands moved slowly up and down over her back, she felt a kind of quiet strength filling her up. She lay in the curve of his body, knowing that she had always been here, with him. It was that simple. He was her lover now, meaning that she enjoyed the privilege of his bed and his body. But their intimacy ran much deeper. It always had. Odo was more than her lover, more than her friend. His was the one soul that had looked into and understood her own. Even Bareil had never truly known her in this way. She wanted to explain this to the man in her arms, but she was a soldier, clumsy with words, and coherent speech of any kind was fast slipping away from her as she dropped into drowsiness.

"Nerys ..." he breathed, and she knew that it was her touch, and her touch only, that could ever arouse this kind of passion in him. The notion of having that much power in her own fingertips was a bit unnerving--like the way he looked at her, with that ageless love burning in his eyes.

"I love you," she heard herself murmur in the warm dark, and Odo's words, whispered close to her ear, echoed the phrase back as she finally relinquished herself to sleep.


~30~

Author's Notes: "A Break in the Rain" was originally published in the fanzine
Fragments of Amber (2002), and was posted to ASCEM on January of 2003. It is at least partially a response to the theories and assertions of some DS9 fans that Odo, being a changeling, would have a somewhat "limited" sexual sensitivity and response, and would engage in sexual activities only to please a humanoid partner rather than for his own pleasure. Needless to say, I disagree strongly with that contention, and would reference the episodes "The Search Part II," and "A Simple Investigation," (among others) as canonical proof that Odo's sexual response is anything but limited.