Charles seemed to like the humming noise, so Trip kept it up all the way down the stairwell. Once in the kitchen, he pulled a bottle of milk from the refrigerator and set it on the stove to warm. His intuition was well founded; Charles suckled happily at the bottle when Trip deemed it warm enough to give him.

“That’s it, Charlie, eat then sleep. Let the rest of us git some rest, too.”

The baby was asleep in his arms a few minutes after finishing his milk, and Trip walked back upstairs, carefully depositing his son in the crib he’d built for him. He flipped back a corner of the blankets and slipped under them, spooning comfortably up behind Malcolm. It wasn’t long before he, too, was sound asleep.

“You afraid you’re gonna drop him, Jon?”

“I might. I’ve never held a baby, Trip.”

“Neither had Malcolm until a month ago, he does j’st fine. You’ll be fine, too; j’st make sure you support his head.” He carefully transferred Charles to Jon’s arms and wandered into the kitchen to make them some coffee. Trip returned with two mugs, setting one on the table in front of Jon and retrieving his son as he lounged on the sofa next to his friend. “So, you ready to be called ‘Uncle Jon’ yet?”

“I didn’t think I had to worry about that for a while,” replied Jon with a laugh.

“J’st because Charlie can’t talk doesn’t mean I can’t. I’m gittin’ Mal used t’ bein’ called ‘Daddy.’”

“How’s he taking that?”

“Good. Don’t tell him I said this, but he’s a complete softy when it comes to the baby.”

“Don’t worry. He won’t hear it from me.” Jon paused to take a sip of his coffee. “How are you doing? This rotating schedule working out?”

“Yeah. Guess if I had my druthers, we’d both have been able to stay home together with Charlie a bit longer, but basically it’s good.”

“That’s good to hear. Nice to know all my old crew are doing well for themselves.”

“Hey, that reminds me, you heard from Travis lately? Last I heard he was lookin’ at a possible promotion to lieutenant commander. He still on the Gagarin?”

“He did get the promotion and he just transferred to Captain Rawlson’s ship, the Marguerida, about a month ago. Assistant Chief Engineer, I’m told.”

“Good for him. We hadn’t heard back from him when we sent out Charlie’s birth announcement; that’d explain why.”

“You’ve heard from everybody else, though?”

“Yeah. You and Hoshi have both been t’ visit. T’Pol sent her best wishes and a baby gift.”

“T’Pol sent a baby gift? What was it? Some sort of educational toy?”

“Naw. She sent a starship mobile and a big-ole Vulcan teddy bear.”

“Vulcan teddy bear?”

“Yeah, the thing’s cute and cuddly as can be, ‘cept it’s got fangs and claws. She called it a sehlat.” Trip shrugged in response to Jon’s sceptical expression. “We’re gonna hang the mobile up over Charlie’s crib once I manage to convince Mal that the baby monitor’ll actually work so’s we can put the baby in his own room at night.”

“Where’s his crib now?”

“In our room. Right next to the bed. Mal’s paranoid that somethin’s gonna happen to Charlie if he’s outta our sight for more’n a minute.”

“You sound a bit exasperated, Trip.”

“Course I’m exasperated, Jon! I haven’t been laid in a month.”

“Too much information, Trip!” Jon turned an interesting shade of red and attempted to hide behind his coffee mug.

“Sorry, Jon,” said Trip with a less than sorry expression. “I’m j’st a little frustrated, you know. I got this gorgeous man in my bed an’ can’t do anythin’ about it for fear of wakin’ the baby.”

As if on cue, Charles started to cry, an ear-piercing howl that Trip frankly thought more abrasive than the alarm klaxons Malcolm had once used for his tactical alert on Enterprise. A pungent smell filled the room, telling the two men just why the younger Tucker had decided to exercise his impressive vocal cords.

“’Scuse me, Jon. Gotta change a diaper.”

“It’s not that; I just...”

“Worry. About everythin’,” cut in Trip with a look that told Malcolm not to argue the point. “Relax and come to bed, or at least come to bed, and I’ll relax you.” He pulled his husband into his arms, nuzzling at the smaller man’s jawline. “I need you, Mal. It’s been too long.” His hands wandered down to clutch at Malcolm’s ass, and he ground his growing erection against his husband.

“I’ve missed you too, love, but could we do this somewhere other than the baby’s room?” Malcolm backed slowly toward the door, pulling Trip with him. Once out in the hall, he divested his husband of his shirt, letting it fall to the floor. Trip returned the favour by unzipping Malcolm’s uniform and unbuttoning his black undershirt.

In their own room, Trip toppled Malcolm onto their large bed, pulling his boots and then his uniform off. Trip flung his husband’s remaining clothing about the room in an exuberant fashion as he removed it. When Trip engaged him with a kiss, Malcolm took the opportunity to pull the other man onto the bed. He pushed the blond’s pants off and revelled in the feel of skin against skin now that they were both nude.

“Mmm... Malcolm, I’ve been waiting for this. It’s been too ... too long.” Trip covered his husband with kisses, which were returned whenever he came within range of Malcolm’s lips. “Let me make love to you, darlin’. You don’t have t’ do a thang; j’st let me worship you.”

“What if I want to do something? You going to stop me?” Malcolm grinned at his husband and arched up against the man’s hungry mouth with a gasp.

“It’s my intention to turn you into a limp rag, lover. Though it looks like I might have to make a pre-emptive strike.” With that, he slid down and engulfed Malcolm’s penis with his mouth, eliciting a throaty moan. Slender hips bucked forward, and Trip held them to the mattress with firm hands. He opened the back of his throat and took in his husband’s full length. Rubbing his nose in the dark curls, Trip was pleased to note the mewling gasps escaping Malcolm’s lips. Trip pulled back, retaining only the head of Malcolm’s cock in his mouth and playing with the sliding skin there with his tongue.

He kept up his oral ministrations until Malcolm was on the verge of coming, stopping only then to see to his own neglected cock. The Englishman was quite vocal about the disappointment of having to wait while Trip retrieved the lube from the nightstand and applied the slick substance to himself.

“On your knees, Commander.”

“Aye, Sir.” Malcolm flipped over then raised himself up onto his hands and knees, spreading his legs invitingly for his husband. Knowing how wound up the brunet was, Trip wasted no time stretching out the smaller man, pushing himself directly into the willing body.

It had definitely been too long. Once buried in his husband, Trip nearly lost his control, pounding out his desire into yielding flesh. He managed to keep rein on his instincts, however, and remained still for a few moments before beginning to thrust rhythmically into the smaller man.

“Oh yes, Trip, so good, so good. Harder, I need it harder.” Malcolm was panting and he pushed back against Trip, trying to maximise penetration.

Trip leaned down to place a kiss between Malcolm’s shoulder blades and straightened up to better fill the man’s request, thrusting with long, hard strokes. “Like that?”

“Oh yes, oh yes...” Trip hadn’t been the only one feeling deprived, and Malcolm came quickly, screaming out his husband’s name as pleasure cascaded over him. After Trip came seconds later, both men collapsed onto the bed, the blond covering the smaller man’s body.

“Mmmm...” Trip nuzzled at Malcolm’s neck lazily, “I so needed that.”

The only response was a contented sigh.

“So, Hanna,” asked Trip, “you gonna come over to play with Charlie when he gets bigger?”

She pulled her hands back, sticking her fingers in her mouth and staring at Trip with wide eyes.

“I think you’ve frightened her, dear,” said Malcolm.

“Hanna, answer Captain Tucker’s question,” prodded her father.

“Yes, Sir.” Hanna looked at both of her parents. “If Mommy and Daddy say I can.”

“Charlie’ll like that, I bet. And honey, you don’t have to call me sir.”

“Okay.”

“Good girl. She’s real sweet, Hosh.” Trip smiled at the linguist then turned pleading eyes on his husband. “I think I’d like to have a girl next time.”

“Let’s wait until our boy has grown up a bit more, hmm? But a girl would be nice.” Malcolm smiled at his husband, quietly pleased that Trip wanted to have another child with him.

Watching his friend playing with his baby, his husband chatting with her husband, and her daughter listening in with interest, Malcolm felt a surge of contentment. This is what he’d been missing before, this companionable domesticity.

The door chime rang just as Hoshi was handing Charles back to Trip. Malcolm got up to answer the door, waving Trip back into his seat when the man started to stand. He opened the door and ... surprise didn’t cover his reaction to what he saw then.

“Malcolm, are you going to let us in, or are you going to leave us standing out here?”

“Oh Stuart, don’t be a curmudgeon,” said Mary Reed.

“It’s not like the boy knew we were coming,” added Charles Tucker the Second.

“Surprise, dear.” Mrs. Tucker slipped through the doorway past Malcolm, kissing him on the cheek on her way by. “Now, where’s my grandson?”

Malcolm stepped aside, letting his parents and father-in-law into the house. He watched, slightly dazed, as they filed into the livingroom and descended upon Trip.

“Trip baby, come give your mama a kiss and let me hold my grandson.”

“Hey, Mama, what are you all doin’ here?” Trip stood, kissing his mother and handing his baby to her.

“We all thought we’d surprise you boys with a visit. Is a week too long to stay?”

“Uh, no, course not. I gotta work this week, you know, but Malcolm will be around.” He looked over at Hoshi and her family. “Mama, you remember Hoshi, don’t you? This is her husband, Martin, and their daughter, Hanna.”

“Pleasure to see you again, dear. Nice to meet you, Martin, Hanna.”

“Oh, isn’t he darling!” Mary rushed over to see her grandson, cooing at him over Rebecca Tucker’s shoulder. “Look at that adorable little nose. Just like Trip’s.”

“I think he’s got Malcolm’s cheekbones, though. Definitely has his hair.” Rebecca fingered the few dark stands of hair on Charles’ little head.

The two grandfathers exchanged glances, and Tucker spoke up, “Stuart and I are goin’ to bring the luggage in, then we’re gonna go pick up somethin’ for dinner. How many are stayin’ and what should we get?”

Malcolm saw the chance to escape and jumped at it. “I’ll come with. You’ll need someone to help navigate.”

“No, no, Malcolm,” said Stuart, “you stay here. Charles and I navigated here; we can find a restaurant. You have guests to take care of.”

That was the end of that discussion. Malcolm sat heavily in his armchair, resigned to the situation.

“Nonsense, Malcolm dear. You have a baby to take care of; I can clean the bathroom.”

“Mother...”

“Let her do it, son,” advised Tucker, as Mary bustled off to clean. “She’ll j’st fuss if you don’t. My mother was the same way. Drove Rebecca nuts when she’d come to visit ... now she does it to her children.”

Malcolm scrubbed a hand over his face. “What is she cleaning?”

“The kitchen.”

Malcolm groaned.

Tucker patted his son-in-law on the shoulder. “C’mon downstairs, sit with your daddy and me. We’d like to play with our grandson, too. The only chance we get is when the women are doin’ chores.”

Downstairs they went, Charles Tucker the Second carrying Charles Tucker the Fourth, while Malcolm brought down an armload of toys and blankets. Tucker sat on the sofa with Stuart and the two older men fussed over the baby. Malcolm plopped down in his chair and stared in amazement as his father, his stern, dour father, baby-talked to little Charles.

“You are a fine young lad, yes, yes, you are. Such pretty blue eyes. Like the ocean they are. Yes, they are. And your grandmamma made you a handsome little sailor’s outfit, which you’ll just look so cute in...”

It was, by far, the most bizarre thing he’d seen in all his life. Not even seeing Trip pregnant with a Xyrillian child had been stranger than the sight and sound of Stuart Reed cooing at a baby.

After half a week of having his parents and in-laws running around his house, Malcolm was becoming somewhat used to such strange sights, but he was still able to be surprised. Still, the strong sense of family he was acquiring as the week went on was more than worth dealing with the disconcerting and frustrating moments.

It had taken a long time, but he had finally got what he’d been trying for all his life: love, support, and most of all, a sense of belonging.

Like this story? Then send feedback.