A Close Encounter

Posted on Mon Sep 15th, 2025 @ 7:51pm by Lieutenant Darius Korveth & Lieutenant JG Ryan Kellerman
Edited on on Mon Sep 15th, 2025 @ 11:49pm

2,756 words; about a 14 minute read

Mission: What was Lost is Found
Location: SB 152
Timeline: Prior to Sole Survivor

Darius Korveth leaned back in his seat. His eyes had swept both levels of the bar and both entrances, the obvious one and the one partially hidden behind the artificial fern, four times. There was still no sign of the man he was seeking. That couldn’t be a good sign. Nevertheless, he felt a small sense of relief.

He let out a deep sigh. He had faced down an Orion pirate almost a foot taller and seventy pounds heavier and bluffed his way through the encounter without throwing a punch or drawing a weapon. There were a dozen or so similar incidents he’d dealt with during his almost ten years with Starfleet, and that didn’t count the encounters he’d dealt with on the various ships he’d served on.

But none made him more nervous than he felt at that moment, awaiting someone he’d once loved. That he did love.

Someone he’d never been sure he would ever see again and someone he’d just learned he was about to serve with for the next untold number of years.

Here he was sitting in the Upper Decks bar off the promenade

Ryan Kellerman lingered just inside the bar, feeling the warmth of the room immediately. The faint ozone-like smell of recycled air and coffee drifted up from behind the counter. He saw Darius right away–almost too easily–seated on the second level of this vertical-themed bar, and for a short moment, his chest tightened in a way that made him want to turn, to walk away before the years of hurt collided with the years of longing.

Darius’s forest-green hair was still damp at the edges, the little curl catching a glint of light from the bar’s viewport. The light haloed around him as though he may have belonged somewhere else entirely, somewhere Ryan hadn’t been allowed to go. And still, he had come.

Ryan’s boots made soft noises against the grilled-metallic decking, but he wasn’t stepping very fast. Every stride felt heavier than it should have. He could see Darius notice him, the little lift of his brows, the quick flicker of hope–or maybe even disbelief. Ryan let the silence stretch as he mounted the steps. At the top, he made eye contact with his estranged husband, and it slowly dawned on him just how much he loved him. How he missed him.

Dropping into the chair across from Darius, hands folded on the table, he quipped, “You haven’t changed.” He noticed his fingers twitched a little in Darius’s presence. “Still somehow… everything I remember.”
This was the moment Darius had been looking forward to and dreading in equal measure since he’d discovered that he and Ryan would be on the same ship again after three years of separation and virtually zero contact. The Universe had a wicked and twisted sense of humor, or perhaps just irony.

He didn’t know whether he should stand, hug, or offer his hand. One thing he knew was a non-starter was kissing his estranged husband. He decided to do none of the options that ran through his head. Instead, he just leaned forward slightly.

“Is that a good thing, or a bad thing?” he asked, trying to keep his tone neutral, his blue eyes searching the other man’s brown eyes to see if there was any warmth there.

Ryan thought about the years he had walked through, carrying the weight of love that had been broken and patched together into something colder, harder, but still stubbornly alive.

“It’s definitely not a bad thing.”

“That’s a relief,” the half Orion countered, “I wasn’t sure if I should search you for weapons.’


His expression wasn’t quite deadpan, but it came close. Only the quirk of his left lip kept it from being so.

“So, how do we handle this? How do we deal with us?”

He swallowed, letting Darius’s words linger for a few moments longer. The bar wasn’t particularly busy, but there were others–other lives moving, other conversations drifting–but Ryan felt suspended in a private orbit. The ache was old and new all at once, mashed together into every memory he had of Darius: the small kindnesses, the laughter in their quarters, that brief certainty that nothing could ever break them. And yet, here they were, fractured, hesitant, but undeniably together in the same space. And both now searching for a way to move forward.

“Ari,” Ryan said, his voice low. “First off, I didn’t think I’d see you again. Not like this.” He sighed heavily, glancing down at the lower level where a Bolian erupted into laughter at some off-colour joke told by a Yridian merchant. “We both have our duty to Starfleet.”

Ryan could feel something welling up inside him, but he couldn’t put it into words–it was as if the feelings inside him defied description.

“We do our jobs. And we either stay out of each other’s way, or we try to make it work as colleagues… because I can’t even look at you without my chest hurting.” Ryan looked away, misty-eyed, remembering exactly how he had been hurt.

Darius closed his eyes as he once again leaned back in his chair. This wasn’t the worst case possible he’d imagined in his mind before Ryan had agreed to meet with him, but it was damned close.

“God, you have no idea how badly I feel about what I did to you. I fucked up. I know I did. You trusted me and I… I betrayed you. If I could take it back, I would. You know that, right?”

“Sorry, that last part was stupid, not that I wouldn’t take it back–I would. But the question wasn’t fair to you. How are you supposed to answer that?”

Ryan felt the feelings all flooding back. There was a part of him that never stopped loving the man he chose to marry, but there was also that incident. The incident. When Darius had been undercover, he had been forced to sleep with someone else to protect the operation. That part hadn’t hurt Ryan–the part that wounded him deeply had been the half-truth.

“Ari,” he said, carefully and slowly. “I don’t know exactly what you had to go through when you went deep cover, but what I do know is that it couldn’t have been easy.” The truth was that Ryan still carried the hurt–but he no longer blamed Darius. Forgiving is easy. Forgetting is near-impossible, his mother had once said.

“You’re right. It wasn’t easy. But that was just an excuse I told myself. I made a choice, Ry. I could have protected the op some other way, used a different method to get close. To do what needed to be done. I just chose the easy path, and I don’t know how I can ever make it up to you.”

“Is there even a chance there can be an us again?”

Ryan bristled at the word us. They had not been an us in nearly four years, and he wondered if fate had been trying to get his attention by having them both assigned to the same ship. But you don’t believe in fate, he reminded himself.

“Us,” Ryan said, rolling the word around on his tongue. He shifted his shoulders, his lean-muscled frame showing how suddenly uncomfortable he felt. “I’m not about to rule anything out, Ari. I’ve built myself a nice little life since we last spoke, and it’s just not something I’m prepared to throw away–even if I still love you.” He sighed again, suddenly feeling the need for a drink, and glancing around for a menu.

Darius’s hand moved toward Ryan, then stopped as he pulled it back to his side of the table. “I’ve heard a little about your career, I’m impressed..”

“And you have no idea how relieved I am to hear you say you still love me. The question, though, is, are you still in love with me? There’s a difference.”

“Whoa whoa whoa,” Ryan said, shaking his head slowly. He leveled his gaze up to meet Darius’s, the sincerity evident in his brown eyes. “Ari…”

Ryan suddenly and slowly reached across the table, closing the space between them, and took Darius’s wrist. It was a gentle gesture, one Ryan hoped would snag the other man’s attention. If only the Orion hybrid knew just how much Ryan thought about him in the years that had passed, if only he knew how lonely he’d sometimes felt–like a large part of him had suddenly vanished. Even the passage of time hadn’t dulled the pain.

“I’ve never stopped loving you,” Ryan whispered, squeezing Darius’s wrist. “How could I?”

Darius' skin shifted hue to a richer, lighter green as Ryan’s hand took hold of his wrist.”And I haven’t stopped loving you either. This might sound crazy, but I haven't slept with anyone else since, since you know...But you didn’t answer my question. I know you still love me. I asked if you were still in love with me.”

Suddenly, Ryan barked loudly, “Can we get some goddamned service over here, please?” He glanced around the bar, several heads turning to see the commotion. He knew the mini-explosion was the result of Darius’s question, and he didn’t want to answer.

Darius knew his partner well enough that he knew it too. He used his favorite tactic. He leaned forward, stared into Ryan’s eyes, said nothing, and waited.

A red-haired waiter was suddenly standing next to the table. “My apologies,” he muttered. “What can I get for you gentlemen?”

Ryan looked up, noting the young man’s freckled face and youthful appearance. “I’ll have mezcal negroni,” he said, his voice now having returned to the soft baritone it was previously–a sharp contrast to the outburst a moment ago.

“I’ll take a mojito,’ Darius added, leaning back once more. He noticed the lean waiter, redheads had been a weakness of his in the past, but he only paid enough attention to him to not be considered rude. His attention was still squarely on Ryan.

Still, he didn’t say anything. Still, he waited.

The waiter disappeared with their order, but neither man had taken any notice.

Ryan’s jaw tightened, his fingers had pulled back from Darius’s wrist, and now lay limply on the table. He met his eyes, searching for something to steady himself, something he could trust, but the question had cut deeper than he had expected.

“I…” he began, then stopped, swallowing the words before they even had a chance to come out wrong. He still loved Darius–God, he always had–but whether he was in love with him, right here, right now, was a different story altogether. “I don’t know,” he finally admitted, voice low and rough. “I’m… not ready to answer that. Let’s… just take it slow. One step at a time.” He forced a small, and very phony smile, hoping it didn’t betray any of the ache that lingered just beneath the surface.

Darius knew the smile wasn’t real; it didn’t reach Ryan’s eyes. But he deliberately ignored that fact. “Slow? I can do. I’m willing to do the work. Could we see a counselor? Together? Try to work this out?”

Ryan scratched his jaw–it was something he frequently did when he was uncertain about something. He knew it was a dead giveaway for Darius. That man knew him like an engineer knew his matter/antimatter ratios.

“I don’t know, Ari.” Ryan shook his head regretfully. “It’s just… that’s a lot for where we are now. It’s been over three years…” He sighed mournfully and glanced around the bar again before continuing. “Can’t we let it breathe a little?”

“Yeah, we can. No pressure. Just so you know, though, I’ve seen one off and on since everything happened. I’m going to see one on the Valkyrie. You can come when you feel like it, or you don’t ever have to come if you don’t want to.”
Ryan remembered how hard he’d been on Darius upon his return from the operation over three years previously. He hadn’t been fair then, and he was now worried he wasn’t being fair now. Clearly, Darius wanted him back in his life… but Ryan was no longer that junior officer in security. He’d found his calling, discovered his strengths were now in Intelligence. He was a more cynical man than before–as if the galaxy had beaten him down and then told him to stand up straight.

Could he truly trust Darius with his heart now? He wasn’t certain. Was he prepared to give him a chance? He could not answer that either.

“Ari,” he began, opening the door to something deep within him. “Loving you is easy. Trusting you… That’s another thing.”

Darius opened his mouth to say something, just as the waiter brought their drinks. After he departed again, he took a sip of his drink. Then it was his turn to reach across the table and put it on Ryan’s right arm.

“I deserve that, and I don’t blame you. I don't think I would trust me if I were you either.”

He squeezed the other man’s arm. “But I’m going to do everything I can to regain your trust.”

Ryan’s chest tightened the moment Darius’s fingers pressed against his arm. Heat bled from the point of contact, finding its way down his spine, pooling to the lowest point of his stomach, and sparking a memory in the muscles of his back and shoulders–the muscles that had always relaxed when Darius was near.

His jaw clenched against a stifled swallow, and for a long moment, he wanted nothing more than to lean into that pressure, to feel Darius’s hands everywhere, tracing lines only he remembered. God, I still want him, he thought, that simple admission fragile but wholly undeniable, crawling through his veins like lava. Every nerve vibrated with recognition, and every part of him–from the tips of his fingers to the soles of his feet- remembered the weight, the warmth, the quiet power of Darius holding him.

“Thank you,” Ryan managed. He had no idea what else to say, his mind bereft of any coherent thought in that moment.

When Ryan had first entered his personal space for their meeting, hell, even before he’d seen him, Darius had wondered whether he should hold out his hand, hug the other man, just what was the best approach to the man he’d missed for almost four years.

He’d answered part of that question without quite realizing it. He saw the intensity in the other’s eyes and knew from experience exactly what that meant. The desire in Ryan’s eyes, despite everything that had happened, despite the length of time that had separated them, was still there. It mirrored what Darius was feeling.

What he wanted to do now was lean forward and kiss him. A kiss that would have lacked any semblance of chasteness. What he wanted to do was take him back to his empty cabin and do more than just kiss.

But that is not what he did.

Instead, he said, “This is how I start building that trust. I’m walking away before we do something we might both regret in the morning. Because when it happens. IF it happens, I want it to be right.”

“Then let’s do this right,” Ryan agreed. “If we’re going to serve together, we need to make it work.”

Of all the things that remained between the two men, one remained: their duty to Starfleet. And both would need to work hard to make it all work.



A joint post by

Lt. Darius Korveth
Chief Strategic Operations Officer
USS Valkyrie

&

Lt.(j.g.)Ryan Kellerman
Chief Intelligence Officer
USS Valkyrie

 

RSS Feed