Rating: NC-17

N.B.: My PWP answer to the challenge I issued in honour of shakespearespot’s 21st birthday, which required alcohol, and requested pineapple rum, pineapple lubricant (or pineapple rum used for lube), humour and an NC-17 rating.
This story is set between my stories, To Stay with the Living (which will be appearing in GFTTH2) and Cluttered Space, but can stand on its own.
The title is from the George and Ira Gershwin song ‘S Wonderful. ~RB

He was dizzy. Malcolm flopped backwards on the bed, closing his eyes to stop the room from spinning. There was a thunk as the rum bottle hit the floor, falling from his limp fingers, but he wasn’t concerned. He had just drunk the last of the alcohol in it from Trip’s body.

Trip began nuzzling at his inner thigh, and he sighed, spreading his legs in response. Malcolm whimpered when the sensation stopped and he cracked an eye open to see what his husband was up to.

“Where’d it go?” Trip looked around the room, confused until his gaze settled on the bottle of lubricant sitting on the desk-cum-dinner table amidst the dirty dishes. “Ah-ha! Gotcha!” He wobbled drunkenly back to the bed, reclaiming his position between Malcolm’s legs, and opened the lube. A generous amount went on his fingers, and he reached down to slide first one, then two, through the brunette’s sphincter.

“Oh yes, Trip! That’s it, right there.” Malcolm inhaled sharply as his husband’s questing fingers found his prostate. The air absolutely reeked of pineapple, the heavenly result of the pineapple rum they had drunk after dinner during their foreplay and the pineapple-scented lubricant Trip was currently employing to prepare him for penetration.

It was their fourth anniversary, and tradition said that the gift should be fruit. On a starship in deep space, fresh fruit was scarce, and Trip had compromised by gifting Malcolm with the fruity alcohol and lube which he’d acquired during their last visit to Earth and hidden in Engineering until it was needed. Their previous anniversary had been easier. Third anniversary was leather, and Malcolm had simply got the quartermaster to make his husband a pair of skin-tight leather pants; the very ones he had stripped from that gorgeous ass not ten minutes earlier.

“You ready, darlin’?”

Malcolm pushed against Trip’s fingers, drawing them deeper into his body, and tightened his ass around them, delighting in the needy look rapidly spreading across the Southerner’s mobile features. “More than ready, lover.”

Trip removed his fingers and, after applying a generous amount of the lube to it, slid his engorged cock into the dark haired man spread out in front of him. The couple moaned together, and Trip paused at the point of deepest penetration to engage Malcolm’s lips in a hungry kiss.

“Love you.”

“I love you, too. Now, get moving.” Malcolm tried to squirm for emphasis, but Trip’s weight held him still.

Trip grinned at his impatience. “Yes, Lieutenant-Commander Reed. Whatever you say, Sir.”

“You talk too mu... Oh Trip!” Malcolm moaned and panted and pleaded for his husband to make it faster, harder. He knew how much Trip liked it when he became vocal.

Trip did as he was asked, and they came, orgasms crashing down around them like waves, each screaming the other’s name. Afterwards, they fell asleep, wrapped in the blankets on their bed and in their love for one another.