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[inthebiblicalsense]

[In a very serious, business tone, Abel's answering machine sounds after any attempted calls that aren't responded to right away.]

You've reached Abel. I am not available at the moment, but I'll get back to you as soon as I can. If this is urgent, leave the line open.

And if this is Fitz I hope you're having a good day.

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[inthebiblicalsense]

[continued from here]

"I might if you ask nicely enough," though he'll be taking that hand, finding it perhaps a little strange to be shaking the hand of a man you had every intention of swallowing in a few short minutes, but if Julian wanted to, that's fine. It's only polite, right?

Just about to pull his hand away, Bashir raises both of their hands and Abel can't help but find it charming, following after the other man to the bed in the back of the infirmary, all curtains and quiet. He doesn't sit quiet yet, hands clasped behind his back as he considers him, he's smile, those legs of his, the way his uniform fit in a far more flattering way than he thinks the Alliance could ever design them.

"Now, it's probably rude to just jump you...can you tell me what you'd like before I start assuming and put my hands in places maybe you'd prefer them not to go?"

[surgeryandsarcasm]

Now that they're here, the effortless surety Bashir had out there at his desk slips just a little - just enough to give his chuckle the faintest hint of nerves at the edges.

"I'm not sure how rude it would be, given that I invited you here myself, but..." He gives Abel a brief once-over. "Let's avoid making too much of a mess - no penetration today, thank you. Otherwise, feel free to put your hands wherever you'd like." He takes a step closer. "And what about you?"

[inthebiblicalsense]

"Mmmm, I can work with that." He says, catching the curtains and pulling them closed, cutting them off from the rest of the room. He considers his own reservations and...well. It's not really a surprise, but nothing is off the table.

"You can do..." He starts, taking a step to meet him, both hands at his shoulders in a gentle press, walking him the few steps backwards until the back of his legs touch the hospital bed.

"Whatever you like with me." Leaning in, his heart practically beating in his throat as he replaces nerves with confidence, he kisses him, slow in the way that he's wanting to learn. He gently catches his lower lip between his teeth before pulling back and giving more of a push to get him to sit down.

"I'm really not picky."

[surgeryandsarcasm]

Bashir isn't surprised to find that Abel is as forward with his actions as he is with his words. Still, it's exciting, the way he takes charge - a rarity for the doctor, who is usually the one guiding things, but not at all an unpleasant one.

He lets Abel walk him backwards, his own hands settling at the blond's waist in the meantime. "Whatever I'd like, hm?" he muses quietly, but before he can follow it up, Abel's kissing him and that's just fine. Much better than fine. Slow is the way he usually likes to start out - it's more romantic that way, and Julian is nothing if not a romantic. And who says a one-night-stand can't have romance? His kiss in return is unhurried and exploratory. Indulgent, even.

Bashir allows Abel's little push to sit him down and leans back on his hands to look up at him. "Well, then I suppose you'd better get down here. If the sky's the limit, I ought to start exploring my options, don't you think?"

It's a thrill, having no idea what sort of lover Abel might be and being just on the cusp of finding out, and it shows in the gleam in his eyes. That anticipation and hands-on discovery might just be Bashir's favorite part of being with someone new.

[inthebiblicalsense]

Indulgent is the best way forward in Abel's opinion, smiling down at Bashir and the way he's resting back on his hands, comfortable and confident. 'Get down here's him tempted to just fall to his knees, but that skips some of the fun he could be having.

Instead, he slips his shoes off, settling easily into the other man's lap, arms looping around his neck to keep himself steady.

"Well, hopefully I won't be thinking about much else soon enough."

[surgeryandsarcasm]

Bashir's arms slip easily around Abel's waist as he sits. "Right you are," he says in a low voice, before leaning up to draw the blond into another kiss. It starts out just as slow as before, but after a moment one of his hands slides up and underneath whatever top Abel's wearing to run his palm and fingers over bare skin with that same indulgence, and that puts the slightest bit more heat into his kiss.

Eventually, he breaks away only far enough to speak as his other hand joins the first one. "May I?" he asks, moving to start removing Abel's shirt entirely but pausing to wait for the response.

[inthebiblicalsense]

Abel's clothes have been through the ringer, at least laundered since the capsize, the white tank top he's in has seen better days, Abel smiling as he gets his fingers under it to touch at his skin. His fingers are warm, feels nice.

"Let me," he returns, grabbing the hem of his shirt to pull it off, letting it fall where it will as he readjusts himself on the other man's lap, his own hands catching against his shirt, pulling him in for another kiss while the other man's hands are wandering.

[surgeryandsarcasm]

"Mm," says Bashir as Abel pulls him back into another kiss, the urgency building just a little bit more. To help it along, he runs his hands up Abel's sides and back, then around to explore those toned abs with his fingers and up once more until he's gently teasing at the blond's nipples.

"You taste marvelous," he murmurs when they come up for air again. Before any more makeouts start, he shifts to brush his lips over Abel's jaw, trail kisses along it and down his neck at a measured pace.

[inthebiblicalsense]

It feels amazing to be touched after he's spent the last few weeks on board entirely untouched. Where his fingertips had been he still feels their lingering warm, a soft whimpering sound lost in their kiss as he gets his hands up further, playing with his nipples. when he pulls back he has to bite his lip to keep from being entirely too loud, well are of where they are and not wanting to be embarrassingly loud like he might normally allow himself and a little sound proofed room to be.

His head falls back, exposing even more of the line of his neck and jaw, his breath coming in a little more heated with each kiss, "you can leave marks, I-if you want," because a bite right now, the scraping of teeth would be almost too good after weeks of nothing.