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Klingons did not sleep in soft beds. They generally did not make love tenderly, or even call it that. And they certainly did not cuddle.
And yet, here Martok found himself, pinned in a soft Federation bed after uncharacteristically tame coitus by the considerable strength of a deceptively wiry human clinging to his side. His par'Mach'kai was partially lying atop his muscled chest, while wrapping his own arms around Martok's like a very stubborn lingta around a tree branch. This proximity did not fail to offer positives, he had to admit. Julian's body heat was less than that of a Klingon, but it still offered the unique comfort that only the warmth of sharing a bed with one's lover could provide. The fact that this bed was so unsuited to a Klingon warrior - in both size and softness - was not enough to change the appreciation of being in any bed together again at last.
He could also feel the deep breaths that Julian was taking as his breathing returned to normal, matching the gradual slowing in Martok's own heartbeat after their exertions. It was far more of a human sort of coupling, but the heart had still raced in their throes of intimacy as they sated one another's passion. Julian liked to call this period the "post-orgasmic glow," and while he never repeated it, Martok could see the faint glow that flushed his human skin in the dim lights of the instrument panels. Quarters on the USS Defiant did not darken fully, but it did not have the interminable overhead illumination that had so plagued Martok in the barracks during his two years of imprisonment. The mere knowledge that, should they choose to, he and Julian could freely cover up or even shut off those faint lights easily enough and have restful darkness, allowed it to be sufferable.
Still, while he hated to disturb the peaceful glow of his par'Mach'kai as his eyelids fluttered shut in relaxation, Martok had to speak. "Doctor," he slowly began, not out of a need for formality in such intimate circumstances, but rather another sort of appreciation for his beloved. There was no better way to honor Julian than by his title; that which he had struggled so much for, and proved so nobly deserving.
Before he could continue, Julian's eyes opened and sparkled impishly. "Yes, General?" He asked, his own voice somnolently heavy but still with a teasing note.
He huffed in exasperation at the intended banter, but couldn't help the burst of pride at hearing his own honorific from the lips of his par'Mach'kai. "You are pinning down my arm," Martok said more pointedly.
Julian pursed his lips slightly. "Oooh… Am I?" He moved one arm to Martok's shoulder, up a line of muscle - not quite as sharply and dangerously defined as during the days when they had first met, but still firm and strong.
Martok turned his head more, pushing aside the modicum of discomfort as the doorway left his gaze altogether without looking back. He leaned slightly so his next exhaled breath would tickle Julian's long neck. "Yes…" he said with another huff.
Eyelashes sweeping low momentarily as Julian closed his eyes at the sensation, he smiled slightly. "Mmm, I suppose you might be correct about that." He pressed a soft kiss to Martok's jaw.
Though he wanted to turn into the kiss, Martok resisted temptation. "Doctor, I cannot move."
He quirked a slight eyebrow in reply, the earlier tired tone from his voice disappearing. "Yes, that is the essential point." Julian drew closer still - more of the cuddling. There was an even more human word he had used before, but Martok chose not to name it in his thoughts.
He turned his head back diligently, though disappointed to break the eye contact. "This is not the way a Klingon warrior should sleep. I do not wish to move far, but I doubt I'll sleep well on this…" Martok shifted on the mattress to make his point.
Julian did let go of his arm then, hand moving to par'Mach'kai's long, tousled hair. "Oh, of course - the floor, then? The carpet's not too soft for you, right?"
Martok then realized the reason for the confusion as Julian began to carefully shift his weight away altogether, rather than just releasing his arm so that the Klingon could lift him. "You should stay in the bed for the night, then? It would not be as advantageous to lie together?"
Julian paused his slow movement, purposeful and cautious so he could favor his injured ankle. "As much as I do want to be close to you, I should sleep here until it's healed better, yes. If you could bear to stay in the bed, we could share. But as comfortable as you are, I ought to keep it elevated for one more night, at least."
Martok nodded slowly. When on Deep Space Nine, it had been easy enough for him to rest on the floor right beside the bed - still in Julian's quarters and close together, but finding each of their maximum comfort levels. Now that they only reunited when the Rotarran and Defiant rendezvoused, their nights together were too precious to separate any more than necessary. A suitable compromise had been found, in that Julian could lie atop Martok's broad chest and sleep comfortably, while Martok himself could have the bracing bed of the floor. Yet, if tonight they could not share that together for the need of the healing ankle…
"I shall spend the night here, then," he said resolutely, reaching for Julian's hand.
Julian entwined their fingers, but he tipped Martok's chin to meet his gaze fully. "Are you sure? I didn't just suggest we could share the bed to coax you into it if you'd prefer not; I just wanted to let you know. Since you asked if we could lie together at all, and well we could, just only up here…" The doctor then cut himself short and flushed a little. "Sorry, rambling."
Martok's heart beat thundrously in his chest, for the consideration and devotion of this magnificent man. "No, that's important to hear - you are most thoughtful, my beloved," he said, voice rough with emotion. "We have few nights together, and I cherish every moment we share. A fleet of Jem'Hadar ships could not keep the Rotarran from reaching your ship, could it? The softness of a Federation bed will not separate me from your side, either."
A warm smile spread across Julian's face, but with a wistful touch. "The compromise and discomfort for you wouldn't even be necessary if I had been more careful last night, I suppose. I mean, my ankle, of all things!"
Martok shook his head resolutely, not moving his one eye from Julian's face. "The carelessness last night was at least as much my own, but you are out of pain and mostly healed already. The wonders you can perform, Doctor!" he cried proudly. "And the caution tonight required by your injury was necessary, but such… tame efforts would be unnecessary to adopt at that level of precaution when there is no known need."
Julian nodded, but he had a slightly troubled countenance. "Was… was it good for you though? Tonight? I know it was certainly far more human in style than Klingon, perhaps…"
"Your health comes first," Martok said firmly. "We are warriors and cannot afford to put even love before the need to be ready for battle. Even had I taken no pleasure in this, it would have been critical to allow you to heal fully first, to stand in your Infirmary come tomorrow. And yet… while more gentle, I suppose, it was still Klingon in full, for the beating of two Klingon hearts reunited."
Julian smiled again, beautifully. "You're a master with words," he murmured as he drew nearer for a kiss. "I'd figured it'd be better than nothing, with it being weeks until I can next see you…"
"Any time we may share, especially in such intimacy, is infinitely better than nothing," Martok insisted. "We never know what tomorrow will bring, so these fleeting moments are all the more precious. Including sleeping in one another's arms tonight, even in such a bed."
"Well you've overcome so many battles, you can handle a cushy bed," Julian said, teasing but with a hint of pride that Martok could detect.
The warrior lifted his chin slightly and smiled fiercely. "Indeed! If foolhardy Romulan attacks, arrogant Klingon obstructions, and the brutal Dominion hellhole cannot present any challenges insurmountable for me… I can manage to sleep on this squishy mat. Especially for you."
Julian kissed him again, more deeply this time. "Could you help move over the bolster a bit so I can get closer to the wall without an awkward position for the ankle?" he murmured. "And then if you could snuggle closer?"
An answer had been on Martok's lips, but he couldn't help jerking away slightly. "Snuggle?!" He had succeeded in naming that specific saccharine and over-sentimental word earlier, butnow his par'Mach'kai had to go and say it.
He laughed, sounding a little surprised. "I'm sorry - it's that much worse than 'cuddling'?"
"They evoke quite different ideas," Martok growled. "Neither very Klingon."
"All right, then. Thank you for indulging in something so… non-Klingon, though," Julian said fondly. "There will be a bit more space when I'm nearer to the wall, though."
"Not at all!" Martok said. "I intend to spend our sleep as close to one another as possible, whatever we call it - or not. But… I do not wish move you closer to the wall; we must swap places."
Julian's brow furrowed. "Is there not enough room at the edge of the bed?"
There was not, in fact, much room at all, but there were also several valuable inches between Julian and the wall at the moment. Martok had no intention of suggesting a move that would place his injured beloved at risk of falling to the floor due to a too-narrow portion of his own bed. "There will be enough room; that is not the issue. But unless I face away from you, I cannot see the door at all." While he had more than adjusted to being monocular in the year and a half or so since losing his eye, Martok could not shake the hypervigilance that had plagued him due to the same incarceration that caused his injury. He knew that Julian could not either. He needed to be on guard and be ready - especially in the night.
Julian's eyes widened in understanding. "Oh, of course! I should've thought of that already…"
Martok shook his head. "There was no cause to. Normally when we spend the night together, I position myself intentionally to have full view of the door without having to look away from you. There is not normally a bed in a fixed place to complicate matters."
"True enough," Julian agreed. "So… switch places? You'll be able to watch well enough?"
Martok nodded his agreement. "Before giving into the overwhelming temptation to turn toward you, I could see the door quite well. And that was on my back, rather than on my side and facing it fully."
"Well, I know better than to question your tactical judgment!" Julian said with a quirk of a smile, though eyes still somber at this topic; likely mirroring Martok's own serious consideration. Despite the fact that he would fall asleep and be a far more ineffectual protector than if he stayed awake to guard over Julian - a task he had in fact undertaken previously - the mere knowledge that he would be facing the only point of entry to these quarters was able to provide reassurance. The idea that Defiant could be boarded by enemies and neither Martok nor one of the ship's senior staff would be alerted until the room was invaded was… well, it was all but impossible. Yet, neither of their fears were motivated in fully rational thinking.
"Neither of us will be taken in the night, Julian," Martok vowed. He clasped both of their hands together.
Julian squeezed tightly and brought one hand up to kiss Martok's calloused fingers. "I know, Martok. I have every confidence in you."
Martok smiled as he gazed into his eyes. Then he remembered. "Oh! I must help you move now, then."
He chuckled a little. "That could help, yes - I could try to slide over if you get up, and then move the bolster to prop my foot up again?"
"No, I think…" Martok trailed off, confident another method could work but less sure of how comfortable it would be for Julian. "I can lift and move you to the other side, so you do not have to attempt to move yourself at all."
"Well… we can certainly try that, I suppose!" Julian said. If Martok didn't know him better, he would think Julian skeptical of him.
As anticipated, he was able to lift Julian in one smooth, careful motion. With a proud smile, Martok cradled him to his own chest. With one hand around his par'Mach'kai's waist and one behind his shoulders, he had supported his weight fully without jarring the healing ankle much at all. Before his grin grew too triumphant then, he realized the problem. As he was still lying down in the bed, Martok did not have any space whatsoever to move Julian to now on the other side.
He frowned only for a moment though, determined to not meet Julian's knowing eyes. Despite the clumsiness of the motion, he had to shuffle his weight to the right without any use of his arms whatsoever and trying to not sink into the soft mattress too much. His precious and all-too-fragile cargo in arm, Martok made his way to the wall bit by bit. He did allow the triumph to show on his face when his right side hit the wall, having succeeded without jostling Julian unnecessarily. "See?"
"I shouldn't have questioned you for a moment," Julian answered, a poorly disguised teasing smile fighting to cross his face. "Obviously you can determine strategy for this as well as battle."
Martok grunted and scowled to hide his own smile. "Insolence!"
"I love you too," Julian said, kissing him again.
When he broke away, Martok gently lowered him into the newly empty space on the left. He then shifted onto his side to face both his beloved and the door, reaching down to reposition the bolster so Julian's ankle had the proper support. "Comfortable?" he softly asked.
"Perfectly," Julian said. "Thank you, for everything."
"I shall endeavor to sleep well tonight - and with you, I think this will be attainable," Martok assured, sweeping a lock of Julian's soft hair off of his forehead.
Julian smiled tenderly, looking relaxed and quite ready for slumber now. "Good night," he murmured.
"Good night, my heart," Martok said softly.
Cuddling simply was not something Klingons did. And yet, tonight Martok was content to do so, for all of these unorthodoxies did not matter as much when for love. What dutiful lover could do less? he reflected. It was the honorable thing to do.