Rating: NC-17
Spoilers: Acquisition, Two Days, Two Nights
N.B.:
The first poem is from Plato’s Symposium as translated by Christopher Gill. The verse Malcolm quotes is from the Akbar Nama of Abu-L-Fazl, translated by H. Beveridge. The title is from Romeo and Juliet, II.ii.50.
SWEET SEX CHALLENGE: Write a first-time Tucker/Reed (Kagey's favourite pairing). If you write SEX, make it SWEET. And steamy, of course, but mostly, sweet. Include the line "Oh, my. Look at that."
“Oh, my. Look at that.” Trip Tucker stared up at the gigantic statue. It reminded him of Michelangelo’s David back on Earth, except that this ‘David’ was decidedly non-Human and decidedly aroused.
“Don’t look too hard, Trip. You’ll hurt yourself.” Jonathan Archer smirked at his friend. “Besides, you’ll make Malcolm jealous.”
“Don’t worry, Cap’n. I ain’t in any danger and I only wish Malcolm’d get jealous...” He sighed and gave the statue another appraising glance. “’Sides, kinda reminds me of him.”
Archer’s eyebrows threatened to climb up to his hairline. The statue was well-endowed. Very well-endowed. “Don’t you think you’re being a little optimistic there, Trip?”
“Hey! Malcolm’s hung.”
“Not that well!”
“How would you know?”
“Who’s been in decon with him more?”
Trip made a face and nodded grudgingly. “You.” Trip brightened suddenly. “Course he’d naturally be bigger aroused like that.”
“Trip, I don’t think anyone gets that much bigger.”
“Spoil sport.”
“Oh, wow!”
“You like the statue, Travis? So does Trip.” Archer flashed his friend a naughty grin.
“I’ve never seen a statue that big before. Wow. Just, wow!”
“Remind you of anyone?”
Travis shook his head. “No, not really.”
“Trip thinks it looks like Malcolm.” Archer nodded at the Armoury Officer as the man came to a halt next to the ensign.
“Sorry, Commander, I don’t see it.”
“It’s only a vague resemblance,” said Trip in his own defence, turning slightly red, “in certain features.”
Travis’ face lit up in understanding, he’d seen the way Trip looked at Malcolm when he thought no one could see, and where his eyes often lingered. “Oh! You mean it’s...”
“Nose and ears, right.” Trip spoke quickly, and a little over-loud to cover the embarrassing thing he was certain the helmsman was about to blurt out. Jon knew what Travis was going to say too, he guessed, given the ‘coughing attack’ the older man was currently having.
“You didn’t know? You’re one of the favourite topics of conversation among the women on Enterprise. They can get quite raunchy discussing you. I hear there’s even a bounty out on vid of you in decon, and I’ve been offered hefty bribes for security tapes from that time you ran around the ship in your underwear.”
“You didn’t take them, did you?!”
Malcolm grinned at Trip’s panic. “Of course not.” After all, there was no way he was going to part with them himself. He had, however, been known to take them along to Hoshi’s quarters for a private showing with chocolate and tea. The pair always enjoyed their ‘lust after Trip’ get-togethers, but Trip didn’t need to know any of that.
His officers nodded in acceptance, and Archer noted the way Malcolm’s grin disappeared, to be replaced with his usual dutiful expression. It was a shame, really. The man didn’t allow himself to smile that much, and Jon knew what Malcolm’s smile did to Trip’s innards. It would have been entertaining to watch Trip get all doe-eyed. Malcolm might even have caught on then.
One of these days, Trip was going to have to tell Malcolm how he felt about him. His mooning and moping was driving Archer nuts, but as a friend, he had to grin and bear it. In defence of his sanity, he made little comments, like the ones this afternoon, in front of Malcolm, hoping to either push Trip into making a few confessions, or give Malcolm enough information to figure it out himself. So far, neither had occurred.
Luckily, Travis had caught on to Trip’s amorous intentions toward Malcolm, and was following Archer’s lead. Jon hoped that with the ensign’s help he would be able to steer Trip into a relationship with the Englishman. First, of course, he had to determine whether or not Malcolm himself would be amenable to the idea.
Archer and Tucker turned to see Travis Mayweather jogging up to join them with an awestruck look on his face. Malcolm Reed followed him at a more leisurely pace, though he looked quite impressed with the local artwork as well.
“I think it looks more like you, Commander.”
Everyone turned to look at Malcolm, who had been completely silent up until this point.
“Certainly most of the female crew would be drawing favourable comparisons between your ah ... manly attributes and those of our excited friend there right about now.” Malcolm smirked at his crewmates, pleased to have caught them off-guard. The three of them looked like landed fish, and he gave himself a mental pat on the back. Score one, Reed.
“I beg your pardon?!” Trip spluttered.
“Speaking of Enterprise’s women,” said Archer, “we should probably find Hoshi and T’Pol, then get back to the ship.”
“Sir?” Travis looked at his captain eagerly, happy to be given a task.
“You’re aware of Trip’s feelings for our Armoury Officer, yes?”
Travis grinned. “Yes, Sir. It’s pretty obvious how he feels, if you know to look for it.”
“Very true. Now, what do you know about how Malcolm might feel about it?”
Travis’ face fell a bit. “Not much. I don’t think he’d be completely freaked; Malcolm’s not that kind of guy. Beyond that...” He shrugged, and then his face lit up again. “Hoshi’d probably know!”
Archer frowned. “Hoshi?”
“Yeah. They spend a lot of time together. I think they became pretty good friends when Malcolm was helping her with her shooting. Now, they have these mysterious ‘tea and chocolate’ parties once a month. No one else is ever invited, and the day before and after they’re always ... conspiratorial.”
“Hoshi, huh? Hmmm... Okay, Travis, this is what we, or more precisely, you are going to do...”
“I know, I know, Hoshi, and I wouldn’t usually ask, but this is important.”
“Why? If I’m going to be breaking confidences, I’ll need a better reason than ‘it’s important.’”
Travis glanced around the mess hall to make sure no one could overhear and leaned in toward her. “Trip is totally infatuated with Malcolm. The captain and I want to play matchmaker – he’s going crazy watching Trip pine – but we need to know if Malcolm will be receptive or not before we get started, you know?”
“Oooh... I get it now.” A slow smile spread across Hoshi’s face. “You leave everything to me, Travis, and all will be well.”
Travis looked surprised and a little suspicious. “You sure about this?”
“Positive.”
“A matter of grave importance has come to my attention for which I need your assistance.”
Malcolm was slightly taken aback by her oddly formal turn of phrase, but he proceeded gamely. “What is it?”
“I don’t want you to take this lightly, Malcolm. The whole ship could be at risk.”
Now he was concerned. “What?”
“It’s the captain. Something is threatening his sanity.”
“What?”
“There’s only one thing to be done about it.”
“Damn it, Hoshi,” said Malcolm, springing up from his chair, “what are you talking about?!”
“You have to court Commander Tucker.”
There was dead silence in the room.
“I beg your pardon?”
“If you don’t court Trip into a relationship with you, he is going to drive the captain crazy.”
“Non sequitur.”
Hoshi tried not to smile, but Malcolm’s bafflement was so endearing. “I have it on good authority that Trip is mooning over you. It’s driving the captain nuts listening to him go on about it all the time. If the captain goes insane, the ship will be in danger. Therefore, as the Chief of Security, it’s your duty to court Trip. Besides,” Hoshi allowed herself a small giggle, “you know you want to.”
“And just how am I supposed to accomplish this?” he asked, and in a lower tone, “You know I’m not any good at that sort of thing.”
“Malcolm, you could be romance personified if you’d just give yourself a chance.” Hoshi looked at him entreatingly. “Come on. This is important. This is Trip.”
He sighed and sat down again, looking up at her expectantly. “You’d better tell me what you have in mind, then. I’m going to need some help.”
It was heavy, expensive paper, its colour a creamy white. The ink was a rich cobalt, and the handwriting elegant, precise. He unfolded the note and read the blue lettering, blushing as he realised its import.
Plato
Trip glanced about himself again, hoping to find someone he could question about the note, but there was no one from the previous shift left to ask. Carefully, he re-folded the paper and tucked it into his left breast pocket. It wasn’t everyday that he got love poems from unknown sources; he wasn’t about to lose this one until he found out who’d left it.
The little gifts and notes were disconcerting, yet thrilling in a way. It was nice to be sought after, but not knowing who was doing the seeking made him nervous. He knew who he wished it was. Such frivolity hardly seemed Reed’s style, though, and he began to suspect that one of his people in Engineering was crushing out on him.
It was almost the end of his shift, and time for dinner, so Trip tried desperately not to worry about it more. He very nearly managed it, too, concentrating on duty rosters and what chef was going to be preparing for dinner that night, right up until the steward set his dinner plate in front of him, with another little note tucked to the side.
“Where’d this come from?” Trip demanded.
“I don’t know, Sir. I thought Chef put it there to denote which plate was yours.”
Trip waved the poor man away, frowning at the paper as he considered whether or not to read it.
“Another message from your secret admirer, Trip?” asked Archer, curiosity showing plainly on his face.
“Yup.”
“Well, aren’t you going to read it?”
“Hadn’t decided.”
“I think you should.”
“J’st ‘cause you wanna know what it says.”
Jon didn’t look at all abashed. “Maybe a bit.”
“Fine, then. Here goes: ‘My beloved, I hope you have enjoyed my gifts of the past several days. The time has come for me to reveal myself.’” Trip began to perk up at this, and read faster. “‘If you wish to know the identity of your benefactor and slave, be in the mess hall at 01.00 tonight. I shall await you there.’”
“Pretty steamy stuff, Trip. ‘Benefactor and slave.’ You going to go?”
“Yeah, I guess.” He frowned. “I might bring along a phase pistol, though. J’st in case this is some loony.”
“Paranoid, Trip? I think you’ve been spending too much time with Malcolm.”
“J’st bein’ cautious.” Trip replied defensively.
“Definitely too much time with Malcolm.”
He took a calming breath and wished for the hundredth time that Malcolm had looked even the slightest bit jealous, rather than merely amused. The more melodramatic side of him wanted Malcolm to go into a fit of rage and declare that Trip belonged to him and no other. Trip’s realistic side saw this for the warped fantasy it was and told him to get on with figuring out who his admirer was.
His watch chimed the hour, and Trip punched the door control, stepping into the mess before he could change his mind. The hall was empty save for one other person staring out at the stars streaming by. Trip took in the black slacks and deep blue shirt, and his heart nearly stopped when his eyes locked with the pair of sapphire blue orbs reflected in the window.
“Malcolm?”
“Hello, Trip.” Malcolm turned to face him, and Trip nearly melted from the heat of the smile the smaller man aimed at him. “Still think you need a phase pistol?”
“Uh-uh.”
Malcolm’s smile got impossibly wider, and he laughed. “You’re so damn cute when you’re inarticulate, you know that?” He stepped up to the Southerner, stopping so that there were a bare ten centimetres between them. “Did you like the poems and the little gifts?”
Trip nodded his head vigorously. “More, now I know they’re from you. Lord, Malcolm, this..,” he lifted his hands to caress either side of the other man’s face, “this is a dream come true. I’ve loved you so much.”
“And I you.”
Malcolm tilted his head back, lips parting slightly, and Trip took the invitation. Barely believing it was real, he slipped his tongue into Malcolm’s mouth, tasting him for the first time. It was heavenly, that was all. Trip quite lost track of all time as they stood there, exploring one another.
When they finally separated for breath, he found Malcolm’s arms wrapped firmly around his waist, and a familiar heat growing in his groin.
“Could we relocate somewhere more private, darlin’? Maybe,” he hesitated, “my quarters?”
“Oh, yes. Yes, please.” Malcolm’s voice was husky, breathless, and it sent a shiver of pleasure through Trip.
Gripping Malcolm’s biceps gently, Trip pulled his Armoury Officer along with him as he backed out of the mess and through the corridors to his quarters. It took a while because Trip kept stopping for kisses, but Malcolm didn’t seem to mind, and they did eventually pass through Trip’s doorway.
Once in Trip’s quarters, they took a moment to simply stare at one another in wonderment, as if neither man could quite believe what was happening. Malcolm reached out, fingers only slightly unsteady, and detached the phase pistol from Trip’s hip, setting it carefully down on the room’s desk. When he turned back to the blond, his shaking fingers found the zipper toggle of Trip’s uniform.
Malcolm pulled the zipper open and then pushed the fabric off Trip’s broad shoulders. Trip closed his eyes, enjoying the sensation of Malcolm’s hands on his body. Arms freed from the fabric, Trip pulled Malcolm close, kissing him and gasping quietly as those hands pushed his uniform past his hips and came to rest on his ass. He kicked off his boots and stepped out of the uniform puddled on the floor, pulling Malcolm a step closer to his bed.
Trip began unbuttoning Malcolm’s shirt, while Malcolm worked at unbuttoning his. He was forced to stop mid-way through while the black turtleneck was pulled over his head. Trip was down to his bright blue underwear now, and he smiled as Malcolm grumbled about him having too many layers on. He turned his attention back to Malcolm’s shirt, noting with pleasure the way the silk slid across his lover’s skin as it fell to the floor.
With a kiss and a grin Trip opened the fly of Malcolm’s trousers and pushed them off the slender hips. Hands met bare flesh, and he grinned wider.
“Mighty confident weren’t you?”
Malcolm gave him a naughty smirk. “How do you know I don’t usually go commando when I’m in civilian clothing?”
“Our little adventure on Risa says otherwise.”
“Point taken. Now, stop talking and bring that mouth back here and do something useful with it, please.”
“Thought you were my slave. That’s pretty bossy for a slave.”
“I said please.”
Malcolm tried to kiss Trip, but the taller man pulled back, a playful twinkle in his eye. “Say it again.”
“Please, Sir,” Malcolm stepped closer, rubbing his nude body against Trip’s semi-clad form, “may I have some more?”
Trip didn’t say anything this time. He simply captured Malcolm’s mouth with his own and, hands cupping the Englishman’s lovely ass, pulled him in tighter. Malcolm was moaning into the kiss, which excited Trip to no end. The bed was frustratingly close, so Trip hoisted Malcolm up just enough that his feet were not touching the floor and stumbled backward until he hit the bed. He sat down on it heavily, Malcolm ending up in his lap, looking startled.
“Lube’s in the little box on the shelf there. Wanna grab it?”
Malcolm shifted so that he was straddling Trip and reached up to the shelf above the bed. He had just grasped the box when he let go again with a yelp and looked down at Trip. The engineer gave him a sheepish look and then went back to nuzzling his stomach. Malcolm snatched the box and fished the tube of lubricant out, then lowered himself to where he could reach the bottom of Trip’s tank top and pulled it over the blond’s head. That done, he slid off the bed, onto the floor, and pulled Trip’s briefs off as well.
Now that they were both nude, Trip stretched out on the bed, encouraging Malcolm to lie down next to him. A few languid kisses later, he worked up the courage to ask, “How do you want to do this?”
“I’m the one courting you, love. You decide.”
“Let me top, then,” he said, taking the lube from Malcolm. “Let me pleasure you, ‘cause you’ve been doin’ all the work ‘till now.”
Trip nipped at Malcolm’s neck and worked his way down to his nipples, delighting in the other man’s gasps. Supporting himself on one arm, Trip reached down and parted Malcolm’s legs with the other hand, while continuing to suckle at his chest. His fingers tickled at Malcolm’s opening and moved up to his balls, making the smaller man squirm.
Giving up the nipple he was attending to with tongue and teeth, Trip slid down his lover’s compact body to inspect the man’s hard shaft. He placed a reverent kiss on the vein pulsing along the underside of the organ and whispered, “J’st like the statue.”
“What was that?” Malcolm panted out the words.
“I said that you’re very statuesque, darlin’.”
“No, I’m n... Oh.” His eyes lit in understanding as Trip licked his dick and then rolled back in his head as Trip sucked it into his mouth. “Oh gods, Trip, yes!”
Trip lingered over the blow-job just long enough to work Malcolm into incoherence, then stopped. His own dick ached, and he wanted the two of them to find release together, so he began to stretch Malcolm out. Four fingers in, Malcolm had recovered enough to start encouraging him with actual words again. Trip removed his fingers from Malcolm and squeezed a generous amount of the lube onto himself. Quickly repositioning the brunet’s legs, he guided himself in.
He leaned down to recapture Malcolm’s lips, establishing a rhythm of thrusts and kisses to drive them both over the edge. Thanks to Trip’s earlier ministrations, Malcolm came first, the pulsing of his body sending Trip to completion right after.
Trip collapsed onto the bed next to Malcolm, throwing a possessive arm over the smaller man and snuggling into his side. Mouth next to one well-shaped ear, he whispered, “I love you.”
“Being saturated with love, they burn together, like two wicks caught by one flame.”
Trip looked at Malcolm, confused. “What does that mean?”
“I love you, too.”
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