Work Text:
It was the evening of a long, eventful day that Wesley Crusher was glad was over with. Though it was still a bit strange to go to bed without saying goodnight to his mom first, he didn’t really mind right now, because he was tired, and he’d already had a few days to get used to her absence anyway.
He’d almost fallen asleep when suddenly, there was a hail at his door. He uttered a few swear words, sighed, and said, “come in”.
“Wesley,” Worf’s deep voice said as he made direct eye contact with him. Oh no.
He sat up, bracing himself for whatever was to come.
“I have come to,” he paused, seemingly also bracing himself, “tuck you in.”
“Worf, you really don’t have to do that. The Commander was just joking around.”
“The Captain has contacted your mother.” Oh no.
“I have been ordered to take the responsibility. And, even if that was not the case, Klingons do not make false promises.”
“Suppose they don’t. Please, get it over with quickly. I want to sleep.”
“I apologise if I have woken you.”
“Don’t worry. Just-” he gestured vaguely towards himself, and lay down. If he’d known this would happen, he might’ve decided to go with his mom after all.
He was a bit afraid Worf would accidentally injure him, because Klingons probably had a lot more strength than experience with tucking people in, but he was surprisingly gentle - maybe he was afraid of the same thing. After the blanket had been securely tucked around Wesley, Worf awkwardly stood next to his bed for a while.
“Good night, Worf,” Wesley finally said. If he hadn’t given him any sign to leave, the man probably would’ve stood there all night.
Worf nodded curtly. “Good night.”
-
“Worf- I can’t believe you-” Jadzia’s sentence devolved into laughter. “You tucked in a sixteen-year-old kid. God, I love you.”
“I was ordered to do so.”
“Sure you were.” She kissed his cheek. “Dax to Bashir.”
“Jadzia-”
“Bashir here.” Worf inwardly cursed himself for ever sharing the anecdote as Jadzia grinned at him mischievously.