Summary: Fanfic cliché plot #2.
Rating: NC-17, C/P, J/C Warning! If slash is not your thing, don't read this.
Author's Note: This is my one and only attempt at slash, but I saw Brokeback Mountain and couldn't help myself.
Thank you Shayenne for your wonderful beta. I couldn't have done it without your encouragement.
Written for the VAMB Secret Valentine 2006
Dedicated to Gilly
Feedback? Please.
~ ^ ~
"What the hell?" The fragrance crooked its finger at him, calling.
Chakotay pushed through the wide, green leaves, the smell nearly overwhelming him. In a small hollowed-out earthen basin, large, white blossoms grew covering the ground completely. Their perfume filled the air with a thick, pleasant aroma.
Walking down into the tiny valley, he sucked the air deep into his lungs. It had been so long since he'd appreciated such sensory pleasure. Adding the joy of touch, he stooped to run his hands over an enormous petal that gave under his fingertips. The place reminded him of one of Naomi's favorite bedtime stories that featured mystical creatures. This was exactly how he pictured a fairy ring.
He suddenly felt very alone. Beauty like this needed to be shared. Chakotay had a sudden desire-no, a need--to share this.
As he popped from the curtain of greenery, he saw the away team scattered about scouting the small planet for edibles and sprouts for the hydroponics bay. Paris stood fifty meters ahead, chatting pleasantly to the guide and Neelix. Tilting his head back in laughter, Tom seemed to be enjoying the place as much as he was. Tom would appreciate this.
Chakotay strode toward the pilot with long steps, pushing past two ensigns who were kneeling beside a tiny sapling.
"Tom!" He reached the three of them as Paris turned away from the Selerian guide.
"What's up? You look like you found something good." Tom's eyes sparkled in the bright light of the planet's sun. Well, wait until he saw the bowl of flowers. He'd be blown away.
"Follow me. You have to see this." Chakotay grabbed his arm, pulling him back toward the grove of flowers.
"Easy, man! You're jerking my arm out of the socket!" Tom stumbled after, passing the two women digging. He rolled his eyes comically at them as Chakotay pulled him along.
As they approached the fairy ring, Chakotay hauled Tom through a wall of leaves onto the edge of the flower basin. He dropped Paris's arm and walked full into the flowers, leaving Tom to follow him. Looking over his shoulder, he saw Paris frozen on the edge of the slight rise, staring at him with a furrowed brow.
"Just take a deep breath, Tom. Isn't it magnif-"
Tom cut him off. "Hey, Commander. We need to get out of here. Something the guide said about the flowers."
"What could be wrong with this… this beauty?" Chakotay sank to his knees and stroked a petal. The disappointment he felt at Paris' reaction hurt more deeply than it should.
"Now. Chakotay. I'm leaving. Get up and follow me."
Tom sounded as if he were speaking to a small child. He couldn't understand Paris' fear. Why wasn't he enjoying this? What was that look on his face?
Tom tapped his comm badge. "Paris to the Doctor. Erect a containment field in sickbay and beam up Commander Chakotay and myself. Now."
~ ^ ~
Hands on hips, Janeway paced before the handful of people gathered in sickbay. The two men, freed from the containment field, leaned against opposite sides of a biobed. The first officer looked particularly defeated.
"So you're telling me they're suffering from some sort of allergic reaction to the plants?" Janeway looked doubtful. "They both seem fine to me. What are the symptoms?"
"There aren't any yet, but I assure you, both men will be quite ill within a few hours. If it hadn't been for Mr. Paris' deduction, we might never have known the nature of their illness at the onset of the symptoms. And thanks are due the guide for warning the crew. At least some of them were informed of the danger." The doctor made his displeasure known to the visiting Selerian biologist.
The captain was still perplexed. "If it's a simple allergy to a plant, why can't we just administer an antihistamine?"
"I'll let our esteemed colleague answer that one, Captain."
The alien explained. "You see, the flowers were genetically modified to secrete hormones via their pollen. It's meant to encourage our wildlife reproduction."
"Go on… And give me the abbreviated version of this." Janeway's impatience grew.
"When we created this garden and breeding grounds for our livestock, we found that their numbers began to decline under what should be pristine conditions. Like pets, or animals in a zoo, their natural drive to survive was lost. Procreation for most of the planet came to a standstill. We lost hundreds of species to extinction before we were able to develop a counter-effect. Our biologists called it the paradise paradox."
"There seems to be an abundance of wildlife now."
"Thanks to the endola flowers. They turned things around. The animals come into contact with the groves of flowers secreting hormones, ideally in pairs, or small groups. Thus, they desire to mate. When they do they counteract the allergy to the pollen and serve as each other's antihistamine, as you call it. If they don't encounter the flowers simultaneously, then the affected creature still seeks a mate. He carries the pollen to his mate via his fur or feathers, and they are able to serve as each other's antigen. And as you can see, there's no longer a shortage of animal life on the planet."
This was true. The place was crawling with creatures. It was hard to imagine how the gardens had been before. Cataloguing the flora and fauna would take the science officers on Voyager weeks.
Kathryn spoke. "I know they came in contact with the plant, but that doesn't mean they're affected by it. I mean, they would have known if they were under the influence of the hormone, surely?" She turned to Chakotay, who was staring intently at his hands.
"Did you feel this, this… mating urge, Commander?" Tom had turned halfway around to watch his reaction. He looked just as curious as Janeway did.
Chakotay seemed startled to be addressed. "Uhm, no, Captain. I felt like I wanted to show others the place, based on its beauty, but I felt no… sexual desire."
Paris softly snorted. When he saw the captain look at him, he rubbed his nose and smiled innocently. She looked back at Chakotay and then at Tom again. Finally, Kathryn turned back to face the doctor. The men made eye contact briefly before Chakotay looked back down at his hands.
The Selerian cleared his throat. "The aphrodisiac effect wears off fairly quickly. It only lasts long enough for the host to find a mate. But I'm afraid the negative reaction continues if this doesn't happen."
The doctor took over. "Based on my readings, they'll both begin to feel the effects within 10 to 12 hours. And it won't be pretty. First, a rash will appear, followed by severe flu-like symptoms. Mr. Paris will undoubtedly recover as his exposure was minimal. However, the commander won't fare so well. He inhaled copious amounts of pollen and most likely won't survive the effects."
He added, brightening. "The good news is that each of them carries the antihistamine to counter the substance. In each other."
Janeway jumped in. "So, we only have to extract the matter, combine it, and reinject them?"
"That wouldn't be wise. It may only serve to make the hormone stronger and more impervious to treatment. There needs to be a prolonged exposure to the pollen in each other's system."
"And how you do you propose--"
"As was the original intent of the hormone, Captain. Through bodily fluids. Namely, sweat, saliva, and semen. Anything less than this could render the allergen untreatable."
Kathryn raised her eyebrows. "Sex? You're kidding…"
Chakotay groaned, while Tom let go of something between a laugh and a cough.
The doctor frowned at them. "Precisely, Captain. And in my medical opinion, that's the only way to ensure the commander's complete recovery."
Chakotay sounded pained. "But you haven't ruled out other therapies?"
"For all practical purposes, yes. This course of action will be most effective and far less risky for you. I fail to see the need to pursue alternate therapies."
Kathryn chewed at her bottom lip and then spoke. "Couldn't we send down B'Elanna and…someone more suitable for the commander, to make contact with the flowers? Create identical allergens in two more people so that they could serve Chakotay and Paris?" Kathryn colored slightly at her choice of words.
The Selerian interrupted. "It doesn't work quite that simply. The endola flowers are extremely sensitive to the environment. Different temperatures, sunlight, and moisture levels vary the quality of blooms. The pollen they are releasing in the air now might not counter the pollen from this morning."
Chakotay felt ill. And he wondered if Kathryn would have offered herself to 'serve' him. She'd made a valiant effort, at least.
He tried again, "Couldn't we try to-"
"That's enough, gentlemen." Kathryn cut him off. "Doctor, clear holodeck two for the next four hours. I'll expect you both to arrive there within the hour. Tom, if you want to take some time to talk to B'Elanna, I suggest you do it now."
Sarcasm dripped from Tom. "That'll be fun… 'By the way, honey, I've got a hot date…'"
Janeway winced. "Doctor, let me know when both the commander and the lieutenant are fully recovered. I'll be in my quarters for the rest of the day." She strode out of sickbay without looking back.
~ ^ ~
Chakotay stood in front of the Captain's door to her quarters and rang the chime.
"Come."
The doors slid apart. He was surprised to see the room with reduced lights and Kathryn standing at the viewport, leaning on her hands as she stared out at the green planet below.
"You're supposed to be on the holodeck…" …with Tom.
The last two words hung unspoken in the air.
"That's why I'm here."
Finally, she turned away from the view and looked at him over her shoulder. Her expression was unreadable. "Oh? I can't imagine what you'd want to discuss right now, Chakotay."
Was that anger? How could she be angry with him? Oh, he was angry with himself; that was certain. But how could Kathryn justify that emotion? Did she think he'd sought out Paris on purpose?
He kept his voice low and steady. "I'm not sure I want to go through with this just yet. I don't think the doctor had a chance to pursue the other possibilities."
She threw her head back, making a sharp sound in the back of her throat. "We are not having this discussion. This reaction will eventually take your life. We know exactly what it takes to solve this. That's the end of it."
Brushing past him, she bent to pick up the cold remains of her coffee from the small end table. Looking at it, she set it back down hard with a sniff of disgust.
Chakotay moved until he stood just behind her. "Kathryn…"
He heard the hitch in the deep breath she took before speaking, but her voice rang with command. "I'll make it an order if I have to."
Standing close enough to smell her perfume, he murmured, "How would you feel if it were you in this position?"
Kathryn bowed her head and slowly pivoted to face him. Turning up to face him, she placed her hand on his shoulder sadly. "My feelings are irrelevant in this matter. As are yours. And Tom's."
"And B'Elanna's."
"And B'Elanna's," she echoed.
Shaking her head, she abruptly moved away from him toward the door. "Go on. We'll talk later."
As the doors slid open, she spoke so quietly he wondered if he had heard her only in his mind.
"I wish…"
"What Kathryn? What do you wish?" The light from the corridor spilled into her quarters barely illuminating her face.
"Nothing… It's nothing."
~ ^ ~
Holodeck two was still unoccupied, even though Chakotay was late. The brief anger he felt at being kept waiting confused him. At least he'd get to choose the program. Oh gods… He felt sweat run down his spine at the thought of what was to come.
"Computer. Initiate program: Chakotay Alpha one. Delete all characters." The gym appeared with a boxing ring in its center. He moved to a locker and quickly stripped out of his uniform, pulling on the workout shorts over his nude body. Stooping to pick up his shoes, he thought better of it and dropped them back into the metal cubicle next to his gloves and face protection. Barefooted, he climbed into the ring and began dancing around an imaginary opponent, striking blows in the air. He had to keep moving. Fighting his anxiety, Chakotay cleared his head and concentrated on his workout
He heard the door to the deck open behind him, but ignored the person's approach, feigning complete concentration on his workout.
"Sorry I'm late. I had to take care of a few things with B'Elanna, first." Chakotay caught a quick glimpse of Tom as he leaned against the ropes. He wore his uniform without the jacket and looked tired.
Chakotay moved around the ring in time to the rhythm in his head. "How'd she take it?"
"You'll be happy to know that we have permission to thoroughly fuck each other."
Chakotay felt nauseous. And the taunting look on Tom's face didn't help any.
He struggled to center himself. In a couple of hours, it would all be behind him. Just get through this without killing the pilot and you're home free…
"Actually, I think she was pissed at first, but it helps that it's you."
"Oh?"
"First of all, you're not female." Tom laughed out loud. "I can't even imagine what that would have been like for her! Or for me." Sobering, he continued. "And secondly, she'd do anything for you."
Chakotay continued his dance around the ring as Tom watched.
"She offered to come with me."
The dancing stopped and Chakotay stood still, breathing heavily. "What?"
Tom grinned. "She thought it might make me more comfortable to have her here."
Chakotay blinked.
"Oh, don't get your shorts in a wad! I lied to her. Told her that she was right, but I doubted it'd do anything for your comfort level. She didn't press it. Hell, I know she used to have the hots for you. She might have just wanted to watch."
Chakotay glared. "She's your wife."
"I know that, it's just that the whole thing's so…bizarre…like a cheesy holonovel."
Tom looked around the gym. "Uh, you mind if I change the program?"
"Yes." He resumed his sparring. "Find some shorts in a locker."
Tom moved to the nearest locker. "You mean I have to get in the ring with you? What kind of a fantasy is this, Chakotay? You have to beat me up before you can do the nasty?"
"Shut up, Paris. And get changed."
Tom pulled his boots off and stripped his uniform, neatly placing everything on the hooks provided. "Why the hell are you so damned pissy? It's your ass I'm here to save. Again."
He pulled up his shorts, and following Chakotay's lead, left the shoes and protective gear in the locker. Ducking between the ropes, Tom climbed into the ring.
"So you're going to beat my ass to a pulp first, huh? I've already done it half unconscious a few times." Chakotay raised his eyebrows. "Bars, prison, a few wild parties." Tom shrugged.
He moved to the center and began to weave in front of Chakotay, trading air punches.
"Is this some kind of Pon Farr thing? Fuck or fight?"
"Shut up, Paris."
"Touchy! What's with you? You're acting like some kind of school girl virgin, Geez!"
Chakotay's glare must have given away more than he intended. Tom froze, mid-punch, dropping his jaw along with his hands. "Oh, shit! You've never been with a man, have you?"
With his arms down, Tom left himself open to a clip on the cheekbone. Chakotay's hand connected with a harmless sounding snap, but sent Tom's head back, bruising the rise of skin just below his eye. It hurt his knuckles like hell, too.
"Damn! What was that for?" Tom's fingers moved over the tender spot.
"Just keep your arms up, Paris. If you'd have been half-defending yourself that never would have happened."
They resumed fighting in earnest now. Tom landed a few blows, most of which Chakotay easily blocked, but it upped the ante. Sweat rolled down their bodies as the tempo and ferocity increased. The effort turned Tom's face crimson, with the exception of the bluing bruise under his eye.
Tom kept running his mouth. "How the hell does a man get to be your age without that kind of experience?" He blocked a jab to the chest. "I mean, I know everyone doesn't like it, but there's such a thing as harmless experimentation. I thought all teenage boys went through something like that. For a while there, I had more men than women." Paris moved to dodge a fist as it nearly collided with his jaw. "I mean, a man hot for you will do just about anything to get you in bed. More so than a woman. They're just never as desperate as men."
"I didn't spend my youth whoring myself out to the highest bidder." The verbal punch hit its mark. He meant for it to sting. Tom was just being honest but for some reason, he wanted him to hurt. It didn't make any sense, but he felt compelled to lash.
"I'm not proud of my past. I've done some things I'd like to forget. But you're still an asshole for throwing it back in my face." His eyes were dark and angry now. "Sex is sex, Chakotay. It's what you want to make of it. Sometimes a fuck is just a fuck."
"I prefer to see it as something more… meaningful." Chakotay's jaw clenched tight with his ire as he jabbed at Tom's face.
"Oh, then that'd explain Seska, huh?" Pow. That one connected. Everyone on the Liberty knew his affair with that bitch had been for the sexual release. Chakotay felt his blood boil and saw it reflected in the blue glass of Paris' eyes.
"Maybe you've got some secret thing for me. Ever think about that? I wasn't the one who made a beeline for you." Chakotay punched wildly at his opponent while Tom evaded him with considerable skill. "And you passed two perfectly 'matable' human females in the process. Thought I'd missed that, huh?"
Tom was obviously enjoying this. "Then you go all caveman and practically drag me by my hair into those hormones. You didn't want the doc to think you felt any attraction for me, but I saw it in your eyes, old man. I've seen it dozens of times. I know how to spot a man who wants me."
Chakotay felt the sweat pouring off of his skin. If he could just connect once more…
"Or maybe you've been saving yourself until the captain lets you bite off her pips."
A left jab caught Tom off guard, making a bruise to match the one on his right cheekbone.
"Shit!"
Chakotay stopped his movements and sneered at Tom. Then he turned on his heel. "I'm outta here. The doctor will figure something out. I'll be damned if I'm going through with this." Chakotay stepped between the ropes and opened his locker with a metal clang. Tom followed him out of the ring, not two feet behind him. "Damnit, Chakotay! We're not leaving here without finishing this. Your fucking life's on the line! I'll force the issue if I have to, you know. So you just need to loosen the fuck up, man."
Chakotay's words were still and low as he turned to face Tom. "And just how do you think you could force the issue? Seems to me that I have the upper hand there." He gestured his fist at Tom's bruised face.
"Oh yeah, right. You're the big warrior. But this is the holodeck, remember? All I'd have to do is conjure up a couple of Klingons to hold your sorry ass down and take care of business." Tom spat his words. "But I'd really like to avoid that, if you don't mind… having been on the receiving end a few times myself…" Tom looked earnestly at Chakotay. "Come on. I've got my orders…"
"The captain ordered you to--?"
"No! My fucking wife! I'm not going back to tell I let her best friend die." His voice changed to a whine. "'Well, you see, honey, he just didn't want to! '"
They stood nose to nose, glaring. "It's your life we're talking about. Don't be a fool."
Chakotay broke and turned to face the metal of the locker. He had to hit something. Unbelievable. No choice. Fuck this prick or die of an allergy to some goddamned flower. He lifted his hand and slammed the heel of it into the metal locker with a satisfying roar of distressed metal. It felt so good, he did it again. And again. He was beating the shit of his locker. The metal heaved and bent and warped under the assault.
Behind him, Paris sighed. "I thought it'd come to this. Time to bring out the big guns."
Tom moved to open the locker that held his clothes. Searching through his trousers, he pulled out a silver-colored hip flask and lifted it to his face, closing his eyes and kissing the side.
"What we need here, Chakotay, is a good, stiff drink." He waved his arm dismissively and then began to unscrew the lid. "And before you ask, I got permission from the doc. Shouldn't affect the allergy, but it might improve your attitude." And he added under his breath, "If we're lucky…"
Tipping the flask to his lips, Tom sucked a bit and swallowed, following it with a lusty exhale. "Good stuff. Here." He handed it to a wary Chakotay.
"What is it?" Chakotay sniffed at it and pulled away from the offensive smell.
"Hooch. Good old hooch. Some moments just call for the original, wouldn't you say? Wolf it. It goes down better that way."
Chakotay closed his lips around the neck and tilted it upright, just as Paris had done. His eyes watered and he had the sudden urge to spew the wicked liquid across the room, but he managed to let it burn down his throat. Tom was right. This is just what the situation called for, so he tipped the bottle again.
"Hey. Easy with that. This doesn't affect your illness, but the doctor did warn that it might affect 'our performance.' And whether you like it or not, you have to get it up for that."
Tom took the bottle and helped himself to another swallow. "Not a problem for me. Before B'Elanna, I hardly ever got laid sober." Tom's eyes got wide and he leaned in close. "You know… in my 'whoring around days'."
One more snort for each of them. When Tom got the bottle back, he shook it side to side, noting the missing liquid. "God, I hope you're not a mean drunk."
And there was the evil Paris grin. He already looked better. Shit, this was strong stuff.
Tom screwed the lid back on and put it on the bench, patting it. "We might need this later. Best to keep it handy."
Paris cleared his throat and climbed into the ring. "Okay, I've got an idea. You want to fight, and I want to keep my face in one piece, or close to it..." He ran his hand carefully over the marks. "How about something different? Instead of trying to knock each other out cold, let's just aim for the pin. Like wrestling. You pin me for a three count; you call the shots for the main event. And vice versa."
Fighting was still better than 'the main event,' as Paris had called it. At least they could delay the inevitable. Oh shit. He was going to need another pull on that flask…
Chakotay ducked between the ropes, noting the spinning in his head that it caused. "Standard wrestling rules? You want me to change the ring?" It was important to get the rules clear since his reasoning was a bit blurry.
"I'm not much of a rules guy, Chakotay. Let's just try anything goes and see if it's too much for you, okay? About the only fighting I've ever done is in bars, and I try to avoid that all I can."
"Count of three, huh?" This would be a breeze. He outweighed Tom by several kilos. Pinning him at the shoulders would be a cakewalk. Sober, that is. Not that he was drunk, but he was about a swallow and a half past sober. Still, it shouldn't be a problem.
"You ready?" Tom crouched and held his arms in a standard wrestling stance.
Chakotay did the same. "Show me what you've got."
A roundhouse kick seemed to come from nowhere. Chakotay felt his shoulder cave and his face met the mat before he knew he'd fallen. That prick had kicked him! Tom landed on him, laying across his shoulder blades, pinning him to the canvas. Chakotay roared up with considerable strength, throwing Tom off of him.
Tom looked apologetic. "I said there were no rules."
"Obviously…" Now he was mad. He'd take him down fast. But Tom evaded him. He was like a slithering snake the way he could break away from any hold. Asshole must be double-jointed.
Chakotay did manage to grab an arm and pull him to the mat, but his tenuous control over the fight was short-lived. Tom was up and grinning, taunting him to try it again.
Chakotay was wearing out. He briefly wondered if the allergy symptoms were showing up early. But then he remembered the flask. His head spun slightly as he was trying to get his balance.
Tom must have noted the dim look in Chakotay's eyes and gone in for the kill. Using his foot to trip him, Paris had him on his back and landed crossways on Chakotay's chest.
"One…"
He thought he'd just rest until the two count, then he'd throw him off again.
"Two…"
Okay, now's the time. He heaved up and Tom went nowhere. It was like he'd put on weight. Lots of it.
"Two and a half…"
Oh shit. This was unbelievable. He couldn't raise his shoulders an inch. He felt like a magnet, stuck to a metal plate that was the mat beneath him. But still he struggled.
"Two and three quarters…"
"Damnit, Paris! Three! Now get off of me!"
"Nope. You're forgetting I'm in charge now?"
"So, you're in charge. Now get up."
"That's kinda the point for both of us, isn't it?" Tom had the nerve to chuckle as he pivoted around until their bodies were lined up. He straddled Chakotay with his knees on either side of his hips, hands pinning his wrists. The smell of alcohol saturated the air between them, and Paris's sweaty face hovered above him.
Chakotay struggled, still out of breath, but he felt the anger burning out and being replaced by something more dangerous.
Paris didn't let him up. As they waited in vain for their breathing to slow, Tom broke the silence. "You know, it's different with a man. I don't mean just the mechanics of it, but the whole thing. There's an element of… violence… that makes it different. Good, different. You'll see…" His low voice had lost the nasty, taunting quality of before.
A sudden shudder surged through Chakotay. Tom didn't loosen up, just rode it through with him. "Don't be like that. We're not going to do anything you don't want."
Don't want? Damnit, the whole thing was a nightmare! Here he had to hump a man whose company he barely tolerated-a man who just happened to be married to his oldest friend. If he could do it over again, he'd drag Ensign Stevens back to the ring of flowers. Hell, he'd take Neelix just to get out of this one.
Tom shifted, but didn't ease up. "You want to shower up first?"
"I thought the whole point of this was to swap bodily fluids. Maybe we shouldn't wash away the sweat."
"I don't think working up a sweat's going to be a problem for either of us. But since you're concerned…" Tom leered down at him and rubbed their chests together.
The sweat allowed their bodies to slide, skin to skin, against one another. The sandy hair on Tom's chest caught at his nipples, causing a shiver to run up his spine. Heat and wetness from their fight soaked from Tom's shorts onto his and he could feel himself rubbing back and forth under the wet material.
"So we've got the sweat thing done. One down, two to go. Sweat, saliva and semen. The three S's." Chakotay heard the words blend together as Tom hissed them.
The detached feeling that comes with a good buzz made him hyper-aware of his senses. Chakotay felt warm. Too warm. And his head was thick with the alcohol. He clinically noted the pressure on his groin, the scent of their combined musk, and the sound of his own heartbeat, heavy and quick in his chest.
Their faces were no more than a couple of inches apart. Looking at the bruises on Tom's face, Chakotay saw that his eyes weren't really blue. They were more of a gray, with navy flecks. He watched a drop of sweat meander down his temple. It picked up speed as it hit his cheek and before he knew it, he was staring at the droplet as his hung from Paris' lower lip. Somebody's shallow breathing made it jiggle before Tom lapped it up. "And yeah. I'm good with my mouth."
Tom shifted his lower body to accommodate the swelling between them. With horror, Chakotay realized that it was his own cock that was hardening. Tom still seemed unaffected by the close contact, but Chakotay was definitely responding to the weight and heat of the body pressing down onto him.
Rising, Tom released his wrists and sat astride Chakotay, rotating his hips. "And let it go down on the record, Commander, that you saluted first."
He wanted to punch that smug look off of Paris's face.
Tom slid down, settling on Chakotay's knees. He ran his hands over the sweat on one pair of thighs and then the other, mixing the moisture. The long fingers crept up under his shorts, gathering up the material. Very slowly, Tom pulled on the shorts, easing them down the solid thighs. The waistband tugged at his erection.
Chakotay sat up quickly, panting.
Putting a hand in the center of his chest, Tom firmly pushed him back down onto his elbows. "Easy, chief. I just want to do a visual inspection of the equipment. I'm in charge, remember?"
Hands back on the shorts, tugging, and Chakotay sprung free. They both looked down at the ruddy, veined thing between them. "Yow! That's some photon torpedo you're sporting there, Commander. I hope you know how to use this thing. I mean, it's not like you get a lot of practice…"
Chakotay inwardly cringed, but the crude words had no effect on the rest of him.
Paris tentatively touched his thumbs to the base. A sharp intake of air made him look up at Chakotay's face. As much as he tried to look neutral about it, Chakotay was sure his eyes gave him away. He could do this. Now. But Tom kept up the fucking dialogue.
"I think you really do have a thing for me, you know. Oh, I know you're waiting for the captain, but let's just say you don't find the idea of me repulsive. Maybe you just need to try this once. Maybe that's why you chose me down on the planet."
"If it strokes your fragile ego to think so…" Chakotay rasped out the words.
"There's nothing wrong with my ego." Tom's voice was seductive as his hands continued their exploration. "I know exactly what I'm doing to you. You're telling yourself you don't want this, but we both know it's a lie. For some reason, it matters to me that you enjoy yourself. And you're going to. I'm gonna make sure…
"But first, a shower. We're both pretty ripe." His hand fisted Chakotay. "Hold that thought, Commander."
Tom groaned as he rose and held a hand out. Chakotay pulled his shorts back up and reluctantly took the offered hand, hefting himself up off the mat. On his feet, he staggered a bit.
"That firewater really went to your head. But it did wonders for your enthusiasm." Tom had the nerve to snap the back of his waistband as he climbed out of the ring.
A man gives you a hard-on and he thinks he owns you…
~ ^ ~
Chakotay created the shower room in his program to be functional. It reflected a lifetime of familiarity with gyms all over the quadrant. An open area, showerheads dotted the tiled walls a couple of meters apart. In the center of the room, a long, wide bench stretched with a basket of clean towels at one end. Next to it stood a tall, narrow table that held only the necessary shampoo, liniments, and oils used for simple cleansing and rubdowns. For a holoprogram, it was startlingly spare.
This was Chakotay's domain. He'd chosen the program because it was the one in which he felt most comfortable. If for no other reason, the number of hours spent using the gym leant a territorial comfort.
"Computer. Initiate shower, setting hot." A showerhead came to life, spewing holographic steam and water in hot jets.
Tom added, "Computer, make that two." Another head erupted.
Both men stepped out of their shorts and under the water, applying soap and shampoos. Chakotay was glad to rid his body of the sticky sweat--both his and Tom's. The heat felt good on his tired muscles and the steam cleared his head a bit.
Both of them faced the wall while they worked at ridding their bodies of the workout musk. Out of the corner of his eye, Chakotay watched the younger man.
He was all long, lean muscles. A light dusting of freckles and sandy brown hair covered most of his body. The curly hair on his head looked much darker when it was wet--almost as dark as the hair between his legs.
Tom soaped his chest and his pits then moved down. He rubbed the dark hair with the gel and reached further, cleansing himself well. Finished with the business in back, he began on the front, stroking his length. Tom sighed as he hardened.
Chakotay felt his own groin tingle, watching Tom. It pleased him to see that Tom wasn't as large as he was. But he was far from small. The shape of his cock mimicked the long , lean muscles he'd been watching. He worked at cleaning himself thoroughly, as Paris slowly stroked and teased the pink head, raising his face to the ceiling in pleasure. Suddenly, a grin on his face, Tom turned to look right at Chakotay, his hand still rubbing.
"I figured if you wanted to check me out, I'd give you something to look at."
Chakotay looked straight ahead at the wall. "You flatter yourself, Paris."
Tom laughed. "Then how do you explain the matching woody? Or is that just from thinking of me." He nodded toward Chakotay's erection. "Hey, it's what we're here for, right?" The tease was back. "All showered up and wet. Dewy."
Lazily stroking himself, Tom let his eyes rake over Chakotay as he rinsed. "You know, for a man your age, you're in great shape. What are you? Forty-six, forty-seven?"
Chakotay rolled his eyes. "Can't we just knock this shit off?"
"What shit is that?"
"The small talk. It's starting to--"
Bam. Paris had him backed into the tile wall, cocks pressing each other. Tom's eyes were glittering, angry, and his voice a growl. "Yeah, I'm kinda sick of all this shit, too. We're here to fuck, right? I'd say we've had about an hour of preliminaries, wouldn't you?" Tom ground into him with his hips, eyes still feral and dangerous. "I was trying to help you get in the mood, but I can see you're already there. So yeah, let's cut to the chase."
Chakotay was unprepared for the lust that he felt. He'd never been passive about sex. Always the aggressor, he enjoyed the masculine power his size and sex allowed. But this was unbelievable. He didn't know what he wanted most: to take Tom here against the tile, or sink to his knees, offering himself. But Tom set the pace, the tone, and the rules. For once, he was happy to let Tom pilot.
As if reading his mind, Tom laid the course. The wiry body held him flush against the porcelain. He spoke in low tones that conveyed his own lust. "I'm gonna suck you off, first. I don't think you'd last long enough to get it inside of me, you're so hot for this." His tongue scraped along Chakotay's jaw before biting his way down the throat, past his bobbing Adam's apple.
Tom seemed to hesitate and then chose a nipple to suck on furiously. Chakotay groaned and pushed his chest against the golden head. He could only watch, mouth slack, saliva pooling in his bottom lip. Tom looked up at him with cold, steely eyes and bit down hard, bringing blood.
Roaring at the sensation, Chakotay didn't know whether it was from pain or pleasure. The sharp edge of both cut deeply into him.
Not wasting any time, Paris knelt and took him in his mouth. Those pink lips were on him…flaming with heat…searing the tender skin with his tongue and consuming the cooked flesh. Only the cold of the tile kept him from combusting--kept him from disappearing, a pile of ash.
He split up into a million pieces, only aware of fragments. That fucking head… Those fucking blonde curls…lips-tongue--teeth eating at him. Eyes. Gray eyes watching him… No control…hands on the ears…pulling him on. Shoving all the way down. Hot throat...
Fingers between his cheeks. Touching…searching…begging. Inside him…pushing, teasing. "Ah!!" More fire. Deep inside him…pressure…oh, God… sweet pressure… Then release…
Grunting, Chakotay emptied himself down Tom's throat. He watched himself viciously pumping into that fucking smug face.
Paris rose. That face on his, taking his mouth, making him taste himself. He felt his own tongue in Tom's mouth, thrusting and sucking back.
Tom released him and he slid to the floor, his back slipping easily on the wet wall. Still standing in front of him, Paris held himself, rigid, in front of Chakotay's mouth. "Take it. Suck me off."
Chakotay sat limply, opening his jaw and accepting the thrusts, but too tired to do much more. Squatting slightly to lower himself to Chakotay's face, he rocked his hips. Tom pumped with a shallow, even rhythm. Rousing from the post-orgasm fog, Chakotay reached his hand up, a tiny protest of the intrusion.
"Oh, God, yeah! Touch me. Put your hand at the base…Yes!" Tom grunted out directions, responding to the touch.
Looking up, Chakotay studied the long fingers splayed on the wall, the muscled stomach contracting, the pink face with eyes looking down at him and teeth clenched tight. He suddenly felt power, such power. It was intoxicating to watch the other man's loss of control.
But that face! The groaning, grunting mouth and desperate eyes. Head against the wall, he passively received the thrusts, tentatively touching, rubbing, and imagining what would feel good.
Chakotay stroked, then pumped himself with his other hand. He was about to get off from deep-throating another man. Tom fucking Paris. The man knew what the fuck he was doing.
Spittle flew from Paris's mouth as he gasped and came, drilling a hole in the back of Chakotay's throat. The warm, thick fluid gathered behind his tongue and he fought the cough that threatened.
Tom pulled out and watched, still standing above him, sides heaving. Chakotay tilted his head up and let the liquid roll down his throat, the muscles in his neck hesitating, then accepting. Paris laughed, panting above him. "You swallowed! Why Commander, I didn't know you cared."
Surging up through the water, Chakotay grabbed Paris by the upper arms and backed him to the center of the room. He quickly dumped the basket of towels on the bench and the floor, padding the tile for them.
Stopping the frantic movements, Tom held Chakotay's face steady and lapped at the corner of his mouth, tasting himself. "How do you want me? You get to decide this one all by yourself…"
Between heavy breaths, Chakotay ordered, "The floor. On your knees. Lean on the bench."
As Tom did what he said, Chakotay snatched a bottle of massage oil off of the table and popped open the valve. Lowering himself behind Paris, he squirted the oil thickly on his back. Both hands ran over the white skin, rubbing it lower. He sluiced it down over the round cheeks, feeling the muscles tighten with his touch. More oil. He needed more oil. The freckles on Paris's ass urged him on as he felt for the bottle at his side, not wanting to lose the sight for a second.
A handful of caramel-colored liquid filled his palm and he rubbed his hands together, feeling the rough texture of his own skin. One slippery hand readied Paris and the other, himself. At an angle over the bench, Tom kept his head turned, watching. Chakotay could feel Tom's eyes on his face, aflame with color from… what? Shame? Desire? A little of both?
Engrossed with the spectacle below him, he tore his eyes away long enough to see Tom's expression as he entered him. Jaw slack, his eyelids fluttered as Chakotay slid in with a grunt. Paris exhaled, relaxing himself to ease the way.
"See… I told you you'd like this…" Tom turned, grabbing the bench to steady himself against Chakotay's pushing.
The hot body gripped him tightly. He watched Paris's back and ass, submissive, receiving him. As he began to ride out his lust, he fought his way through a violent storm of emotion. Desire and anger warred within him as he used the other body for his own pleasure.
Reaching an oily hand around, he had to know. Was Tom enjoying this? Greeted by hardness and heat, he heard a moan as his hand fit around all that stiff flesh. Why the hell did this matter to him? Why did he want to bring Tom off with him? The oil helped his fist slide up and down and the sounds coming from Paris made him ache with need.
As Chakotay's control slipped, he moved his hand back to the white hip, pulling it further into him. His heart rate hammered in his ears and his movements sped, chasing the rhythm. Losing complete control, he stilled, grunting, holding the body onto himself.
Tom's body. Tom Paris. Tom fucking Paris.
Withdrawing, Chakotay immediately snatched up a towel and wiped himself. He sat back on his haunches, unsure of what to do next. Sucking in air in great gulps, he fought the urge to bolt.
Tom rose up, stretching out his angular body. Turning, he flopped down on his side on the pile of towels. Leaning his head in his hand, he regarded Chakotay's reaction. The "You all right?" sounded sincere.
What was this? No smug retort? No comment about his performance? Tom caring what the hell he felt? The man was an enigma, that was certain. Always keeps you guessing…
Getting up, Chakotay went back to the spray and soaped himself, washing off the traces of oil and semen. He knew what came next and the idea scared the shit out him. Not so much the physical part, but the complete submission. Your turn to take it, old man. On your knees, ass in the air. Tom riding it out on you.
He could feel Tom's eyes licking over him as he showered. And how could he justify the warm sensation between his legs, imagining Tom sinking into him? Did he actually want this?
A sudden vision of the fairy ring from this morning flickered in his head, reminding him of the intense need to look for someone. And there stood Paris, laughing in the sunshine. Full of shit, as usual, but so goddamned full of life. He remembered that incomplete sensation he experienced, and when he spotted Paris, he knew that this man could make it go away. Make it disappear, satisfy him.
And then, this. What happened on the holodeck proved that, in spite of his dislike of the man, he could still… lust for him. He was glad it was Paris. If Kathryn had been down there…if it had been the captain? He would never know if she really wanted him or did it just to save his life. She'd do anything for her crew and he didn't want a physical union between them diminished to a simple fuck or die command performance. It mattered too much to him.
But Tom was different. Sometimes a fuck is just a fuck. And what a fuck it had been, and was still to be…
Tom cleared his throat, an apology for intruding on Chakotay's thoughts. "You know, it's not over…"
"Yeah, I know…"
"We can wait a bit. No need to rush things. We've followed our directions, so far. We can take a break if you want to…"
Chakotay barked a laugh. "And do what?! Go next door and shoot some pool? I don't think so…"
"Uh… I meant to ask you about that. This isn't going to be a problem for you…you know, later? I mean you're not going to treat me like I have the phage, are you? It's not like I could have done anything different, but if you're going to be really weird, I'd like to know now."
Chakotay still faced the wall, the water running over his chest. "I think I can handle it. And I hope you're not going to act like an asshole about all this."
"I wouldn't do that to you. I wish you knew that about me without having to ask." He sounded hurt.
Chakotay shook his head. "You do have a way of taking advantage of an uncomfortable situation, you know."
"I just use humor to smooth out the rough edges."
Chuckling, Chakotay added, "Yeah, seems to me you used quite a bit today."
"Well, you have to admit. It's pretty funny stuff." There was a smile in his voice.
"True, but I don't want you to bring it up after this. Funny, or not." He hoped the tone of his voice was warning enough.
He could hear Tom getting up, stretching out the lean body, and moving to stand behind him. Chakotay felt hands on his back, a tentative caress. "That's not necessary…"
Tom spoke softly. "Maybe not for you, but I need this now."
Lips brushed against his neck and the hot hands circled his waist, playing in the water that ran over Chakotay's stomach.
This felt uncomfortable for him. Too close. Too intimate. Intimate, hell, you've spent the better part of an hour swapping spit and semen and a simple caress feels wrong?!
The mouth on his neck, wet and soft, licked at him. Chakotay stood stock still, willing himself not to shove the younger man away from him. The part of him that was currently doing the thinking kept him from it.
The hands tickled back around to his hips, grazing the hair below his stomach as they traveled. He could hear the quick tempo to Tom's breath and feel hot flesh nudging between his cheeks. Just announcing its presence, not insisting.
Tom's words were apologetic. "I know this makes you uncomfortable, Chakotay, and I'm sorry. But I need to do it this way. If you were sure of yourself and really wanted it, I'd have no problem taking you hard and fast. But you're not. And I can't force the issue with you. I've got too much baggage of my own in that area…"
Chakotay nodded, the back of his head brushing against Tom's cheek. "I think I understand."
"You do?" He tilted his head around to look in Chakotay's face. "So you're okay to take this a little slower? I mean, for both of us?" The vulnerability echoed his own hesitation.
"Yeah. Your pace."
Tom's hands moved over him, skating over his sides, his shoulders, arms, his neck and hips. Moving around to the front, they teased his chest, twirling in the sparse hair and rubbing slower and with more pressure, the lower he went. Chakotay thought he'd strike the man before his hands finally touched his tip and petted over his hardness.
Paris felt ready, stiffness cradled in the small of his back, pressing and moving. Using those talented hands, he pulled at Chakotay's hips, rotating his own until there was no question of desire or intent.
Tom's tongue worked at his neck and then his ear, breath hot and heavy, increasing its tempo. The teeth nibbled at his lobe and finally his tongue snaked into the canal. One of his hands stayed below while the other found his chin, arching the neck back and to the side to that he could thoroughly lap at the ear. Long fingers rubbed over his face, pulling him further onto the tongue. Tiny hairs on Chakotay's neck and back tingled to erection, delighted with the unpredictable heat and wetness of the darting muscle.
Chakotay jerked away with a grunt. "Stop. I'm…I'm…ticklish…" But he wasn't laughing as he turned and took a step back from Tom.
Walking through the streaming water, Paris advanced on the other man. Infinitesimally, Chakotay backed away from him until he felt the tiles behind him, for the second time that afternoon. Stopping short of contact, they stood nose to nose, breathing in tandem. Tom held out his hand, never losing eye contact. Chakotay grasped the offered hand and Tom pulled him away from the wall over to the bench.
"Computer. Change height of bench to 85 centimeters and add standard four centimeter padding." The new piece of furniture shimmered into play, clearing away most of the towels and the bench.
Chakotay swallowed hard and turned to see that Tom was still watching him.
"Lie on your stomach. I think you're still a little tense." Chakotay did as he was told and stretched out cradling his head in his folded arms. Never losing contact with his skin, Tom reached for the bottle of oil and filled his palm, warming it before he spread it over the wet shoulders and upper back. He rubbed in large circles, easing the stiff muscles and joints. The man was good with his hands…
Working with handfuls of oil, Tom moved lower and lower until he rubbed over the mounds of his ass, deeply manipulating the large muscles. His thighs were given equal time and then Paris explored the dark cleft that divided Chakotay's body in two.
"You're relaxing some, now. That's good. I won't do this without you…your consent…no, your willingness."
And Chakotay surprisingly found himself willing. Loosened from the massage, both his stress and his inhibitions, he nudged his knees apart, permitting…no, asking Paris for more.
With more oil, Tom loosened the tight muscles. His fingers eased the way, one, two, and three at a time before he dropped the bottle to the floor and pulled at Chakotay to back up to the edge of table.
Chakotay's heart thumped in his chest. He worked his way down the table until his feet found the floor and he leaned over, grasping at the padding. Tom nudged at him, making a frustrated sound. "I can't see you. I don't know if I'm hurting you…"
"You're fine…I'll let you know if something's painful."
"No. Roll over. Just like this except on your back."
Facing him? "What?!"
"I've got to see that I'm not hurting you. I won't… I can't do it without knowing…"
Chakotay heaved himself back up on the table, sitting at the very edge, facing Tom, eye to eye. Placing a hand on his chest in a familiar way, he pushed him back to the padding and pulled him close to the edge.
Tom's fingers moved at him again, testing the angle. The gray eyes above him grimaced slightly as he stretched and eased the way. At last, Paris lined up and pushed into him.
Thighs wide apart, they dangled in the air until Tom's arms draped Chakotay's legs over his shoulders, holding them in place, fitting them together tightly.
He felt fullness and the bolt of electricity as Tom penetrated deeper. He moved inside of him until he felt the pumping begin. Pushing and pulling at him, loose and tight, back and forth, flesh to flesh, he lost himself, moaning along with Paris's groans, the man's forehead beading with perspiration.
Tom leaned into him, his face over him. "Are you…does it feel…good?"
Hot breaths and a nod of his head assured him. He grabbed for the back of his own knees, freeing Paris to reach between them, to rub at him on the outside as he stimulated him inside.
The rocking increased, bodies tensed, pelvises thrust and worked. Chakotay felt himself pulsing against the long fingers that furiously rode his cock. He arched and clenched himself into a knot as the fire flamed around him and scorched their bellies. Stickiness slid between them as he bore down, feeling Tom jerk deep within, grunting, bringing his face closer, and then thrusting his tongue, fucking his mouth as he rode him below.
Then came the quiet after the storm. Tom didn't move away from him, just held still, racing blood and breathing between them. Neither of them looked away for longer than was comfortable and still they kept their eyes locked.
Tom pressed a gentle kiss to his lips before Chakotay realized it had been done.
"That was better than I thought it'd be…I was worried about you…" Tom pushed up, freeing Chakotay to rise.
They both moved back to the comfort of the shower and silently washed themselves, catching glances of each other from time to time.
~ ^ ~
Standing by the lockers, they dressed. Neither of them had spoken since before the shower. They'd moved through the activities in tandem, aware of each other, but not communicating. At least not verbally.
As Tom pulled on his shirt, he groaned. "God, I'm sore. This was a workout. And I'm sure my wife will jump on me as soon as I get in the door."
Chakotay gave him a quizzical look.
"She'll smell it on me. She'll smell you on me. I don't care how many showers I take, she'll be able to smell sex. Hell, it's worse than those damn flowers! I've still got miles to go tonight, old man."
Tom continued, back to his old self. "And speaking of smelling it, you might get lucky with the captain. You know, you have the stink of sex on you, too."
"Stop." Chakotay held up a hand to halt the conversation. "You have no right to talk about the captain that way."
"The hell I don't! I just saved your life! And I had to have that fucking log up my ass to do it. I think that gives me permission to speak freely, sir!"
Chakotay cringed at Paris' crude imagery even as he smiled at the humor. But he was right. If anything allowed some honesty, the debt that Chakotay owed him was one.
"Seriously, man. She wants you. Hell, she loves you, if you want to be romantic about it. And this," he gestured toward the showers, "pretty much proves that you could use a little more action.
"Maybe if you try the old, 'I need a woman after all that' routine, you might get lucky. We're all so sick of the two of you dancing around this. Some sort of bullshit about being in command. I don't even know why she doesn't give it up, but it's your fault, too. I think if you were a little less strong and silent about it, she might get the picture and decide she could use a little more action, too. At least promise me you'll give it your best shot?"
Chakotay shook his head. "Okay. I promise I'll be more receptive."
As he pulled the towel off from around his shoulders, it rubbed across his bare chest, catching the sore nipple with the red teeth marks surrounding it. He muttered a simple oath and rubbed his hand at the raw spot.
Tom noticed the discomfort. "Sorry about that. I guess B'Elanna's starting to rub off on me…" Picking up his flask, he unscrewed the cap and tilted it back for a swallow. "Not like it'll mask the taste well enough for her…"
Chakotay pulled on his shirt and took the flask from him, tilting it upward. Draining the last of the liquid, he swished it around in his mouth before swallowing it.
It hadn't been exactly what he'd call fun, but it hadn't been as bad as he'd thought it would be. And if he was perfectly honest with himself, he really did need more of this than he currently was getting, namely nothing.
Chakotay spoke. "Let's get the EMH in here to test our blood. I'm not up to facing a sickbay full of people."
"Paris to EMH. We're ready to be tested."
Immediately, the doctor appeared with his tricorder. He fanned it around them each, nodding and frowning until Chakotay wanted to box his ears.
Noticing Paris's bruised face, the doctor glared at Chakotay, withdrew the dermal regenerator from his belt and ran the instrument over his cheeks.
"You did well, gentlemen. I see absolutely no trace of the allergen in either one of you. It would seem you were quite thorough."
If he cut his eyes or raised his brows again, Chakotay swore he'd have B'Elanna take him offline.
"I'll let the captain know you're both ready for duty. After a good night's rest, that is…"
He shut off the regenerator and shimmered off the holodeck leaving them alone to put on their shoes and socks.
~ ^ ~
As they made their way to the arch, Tom stopped and faced Chakotay.
"So let's make sure we have the math right. I've saved your ass two times now, right? And if I didn't miss my count, I believe I'm behind one orgasm?"
They moved into the empty corridor as Chakotay stifled a smile and rolled his eyes.
Over his shoulder he tossed, "Go fuck your wife, Paris."
"Aye, aye, Commander!"
--ON TO THE SECOND PART (J/C)--
© Char, February 2006 Please email me to post/distribute elsewhere.