Rescuing Papus

Val Etilen slipped through the panic of the public corridors under the dim flashes of red alert. He took the silly message off his door's panel and let himself in.
One of his plants had been knocked over, but otherwise everything was as it should be.
(Let me know if that's erroneous)

Val pulled on a slate jacket - for the rare occasions he did not want to stand out in a crowd - and called for his cat.
Papus, a large male tabby of Earth origin, was crouched under the sofa, its tail bushy with alarm. Val pulled it out and held it to his chest, feeling immensely better for it. The cat growled quietly.

The civilian replicator was of course not functioning during red alert, so he waited, stroking his irritated cat to calm himself and listening for any other disasters.

Commander Rai made a brief stationwide announcement.
"Attention: due to unforeseen circumstances, there are stationwide power outages. Please remain calm, and remain in your quarters."
Briefly, small power arcs crackled across the consoles in Val's quarters.

"Anything you say.." Val mumbled.
He jumped at the crackle from his consoles, and Papus scratched a line into his arm. He settled across the room from any technology that may spit sparks, and resolved to stay there.

He hears the smacking of a palm against his door.
"Let us in, it's dark out here!" The voices are male. The doors budge slightly, and they're manually parted by the two high ranking Bajoran Ranjen he had previously propositioned on the Promenade. The young men are terrified.

Val clutches his cat and climbs up onto the back of the sofa, as though higher ground will protect him from looters.  

"Oh, it's you two..." he says, letting Papus go.  The cat dives under the sofa.  "Shut the door!"  He hastily lights some candles, which he never before thought he'd actually use for practical purposes.  

"What's going on?  I thought we were under attack, but I don't see any ships out there."

"Attack? No not exactly, the Orb of Serenity was displeased with us somehow and is punishing us all! It must have been the human Acolyte," nodded the shorter, paler Ranjen. He introduces himself.
"I'm Ranjen Deion, and my companion is Ranjen Benke."
The darker, more handsome Ranjen Benke falls to his knees in front of the sofa, trying to coax the cat out. Papus hisses back.
"I never thought the Prophets would punish us for this. Are you the collaborator's son?" Deion asks gracelessly.

"If you mean am I the son of the most beautiful woman on Bajor, then yes," Val says with a smile, remembering to stash his latinum away for sending back to the homeworld. He settles back down on his sofa.
"The orb is doing this? I don't see why the prophets would care so much about an alien..." He shrugs. "Though I suppose you know better than me."

"The Prophets speak to us in mysterious ways," says Deion. "Do you attend the temple often?"
"We practically live there," says Benke. "Bennya runs us into the ground. Do you have anything to drink?"

Val shakes his head. "No replicators, I'm afraid - otherwise I'd offer."
To the question of his religious practices, he gestures to a small house shrine on the wall. "I tend to worship here - I'm not exactly popular with the fundamentalists one sometimes sees at temple."

"That doesn't seem very fair at all," said Benke, seating himself near to Val.
"You can't help who you were born to, or her choices. As far as I can tell, you're surviving, like anyone else."
"There's so much disagreement among the clergy as to what to do with collaborators," Deion chimes in, "I would prefer we move on. Chewing on the cruelty of the Occupation only holds us back."

"That is a very enlightened view, gentlemen," Val sighs.  He takes off his jacket again and plucks a bottle of oil from his table, moisturizing his hands.  
"Well, seeing as how you're here now - how about that massage?  It's a red alert and if I'm going to die, I may as well die doing what I like."

"How much would that set us back, should we survive this ordeal?" asked Deion, the corners of his mouth pricking up wickedly.
Benke, however, was already unfastening the strings at the chest of his silk Ranjen robes.
"What with reform on Bajor, I don't know that we'll find anyone like him there for a while," he murmured over his shoulder. "Live a little, Deion, I'm sure we can afford it."

Val shrugs, helping the eager cleric with his robes. "And if you can't afford it, well... you'll just have to owe me a favour. Now lay down... Benke, was it?"

"Yes, it's Benke," he said, stripping down to the silk trousers beneath his ceremonial robes. Beneath the shimmering blue silk was a lean muscular frame and flawless ebony skin. His hair had been shorn close to the scalp.
Deion was more toned, and kept his black hair combed neatly in waves on his scalp. He had some scars on his taught, sculpted abdomen, apparently phaser burns which had never seen a dermal regenerator. He was reluctant to drop the robes from his waist.
"Deion, I'm sure they're nothing he hasn't seen before," said Benke as he laid face down across the sofa, clasping his hands under his chin.

"You can be as covered or as nude as you like," he assured the hesitant priest. "I don't mind."

Val settled across the small of the prostrate man's back and stroked his skin appreciatively. He was actually quite fond of Cardassian anatomy, but there was something uniquely enjoyable about servicing his own species - there was an automatic understanding and intimacy. Bajorans and Terrans had such smooth, pliable skin.

"Were you two in the resistance?"

"Deion was, I was in a child labor facility," says Benke. He groans softly at Val's powerful touch.
"I don't want to talk about it," says Deion. He strips to his silk trousers, the soft blue of the Ranjen, and plops next to Benke across the sofa.
"I carry the tension of serving the Kai in my neck," he says to Val.

"We will have to see to that, then," Val says. When he has given Benke a thorough massage, he sits down between them and pulls Deion's head into his lap. I'd be tense too if that crone was my master.. he thinks, but does not say. He is fully immersed in the familiar practice of making his present company feel like the only people who matter. He gently massages Deion's face, neck, and shoulders, occasionally leaning down to kiss his temple.

He lays hands on both of them, feeling a bit like an aristocrat with two pet panthers.
"Are you two lovers?"

"Sometimes," said Deion. "Between scriptures and duties, we have few other creature comforts but what we can find in each other. It's not like we have holosuites in the Monastery."
"Clergy has always had a history of seeking comfort in one another," explained Benke.

Val stroked both their chests idly.
"Holosuites are no substitute for the real thing, trust me."

Benke caught his hand and brought Val's delicate wrist to his lips, planting a kiss on the soft skin over his pulse.
"Tell us about it. I have aches you can't reach."

Val grinned and slid over to lay next to Benke, their head in each other's laps.
"Is that a challenge?" He asked, slipping his hand up the man's inner thigh.

Benke presses the burgeoning thickness in in his blue trousers into Val's palm.
"Not a challenge, I'm sure you're nothing but professional."
Deion perked up for a moment from Val's lap.
"Are you accustomed to groups of two?" he asked.

Val grinned and lightly, teasingly handled Benke as he ran his other hand through the fair man's hair.
"On occasion... When it suits me. And it suits me now." He leaned over to kiss each of them in turn.

Benke leaned into his kiss, darting his tongue into the cavern of Val's mouth. Deion nuzzled into Val's lap, pressing his lips to the bulge his head rested next to.
"It could be hours before the Commander has this station under control, you know," said Benke. He craned into the crook of Val's neck, kissing down the delicate tendons, to the collar of his shirt.
"What should we do, meanwhile?" asked Deion as he fondled with the waistband of Val's trousers.

"Anything you like," Val got up on his knees and pulled his trousers down over his hips, guiding Benke's hand there to inspect him. He leaned forward and slid his hands down Deion's chest to his crotch.

(I'd like to do an intuition-type check, to see if my instincts/experience tell me these guys are safe. I think it would be reasonable for him to make sure he gets good vibes from people he's servicing in his own quarters.)