I've kept it
inside much too long
There's no relief
Carry it around
just like a stone
Too heavy for me
I had paid the price
Of standing on the
outside looking in
It's time to let
the healing begin
"Let the Healing Begin" - Joe Cocker
Chakotay stood before the door to
Tom Paris' quarters feeling unaccountably nervous. Officially he was here
as Voyager's first officer. Having noted a problem with one of the
officers under him, he was simply following up on it. At least that's what
he kept trying to tell himself. If he were to be honest with himself, there
was no official basis for this visit.
Paris had been performing his duties
as well as ever. In fact, he had been performing them better than usual,
his reports indicating he was paying attention to small details he usually
let slide. There had been some recent changes in Paris' personality, however,
and not for the better. He seemed to be shutting himself away from the
rest of the crew and attempting to become the model Starfleet officer.
Not a bad occurrence in most officers but rather alarming when it came
to Paris. Overnight, he had retreated into a non-smiling, serious Starfleet
officer. His usual witty, and sometimes annoying, banter had completely
It was that, more than anything else,
that had finally brought Chakotay to Paris' door. He stood there nervously
for several moments, not quite ready to brave this confrontation with the
other man yet. He had managed to make it through nearly four years in the
Delta Quadrant without once delving into Paris' personal territory. Not
once in that time had Chakotay been to Paris' quarters. Not once had he
forced any personal revelations out of Paris. He had tried on one occasion,
only to discover later that Paris had been undercover, on Janeway's orders,
to flush out a spy on Voyager.
Chakotay was certain that wasn't
what the problem was this time. He knew what the problem was this time.
Paris had become reclusive ever since the blowout with B'Elanna two weeks
ago, and it was becoming increasingly difficult to ignore the aura of silent
suffering that surrounded Paris. No matter what occurred, no matter
what was said, Paris continued to wear the same uncommunicative expression
that encouraged others to keep their distance.
It surprised Chakotay how much he
missed hearing Paris' laughter ringing out across the mess hall or his
sarcastic comments uttered on the Bridge with that air of awelessness that
only Paris could pull off and still earn a grin from the Captain. In the
past two weeks, Tom Paris had retreated behind a closed door and seemed
determined to stay there. Chakotay was just as determined to get that door
back open. It never occurred to him to question why it was so important
for him to do so.
The whole ship knew, of course, the
reason for the change in Paris' demeanor. The argument in the mess hall
with B'Elanna had been very public. Chakotay hadn't been there to witness
it but he had heard about it. Paris had discovered that several weeks ago,
when Voyager had retrieved messages from home through the alien
array, that his message had come through in its entirety after all.
B'Elanna, who had told Tom she had
been unable to download his message before the array was destroyed, had
lied. When confronted by Paris, she had admitted that she had, in fact,
retrieved his message in its entirety, but after hearing what Admiral Paris
had to say to his son, she had come to the decision that it was not something
Tom needed to hear and had hidden the message from him.
At least she hadn't destroyed the
message, thought Chakotay. Somehow, Paris had happened across the message,
discovering B'Elanna's lie in the process. Sources had told Chakotay they
had never seen Paris so angry. Many had been shocked to discover that the
usually easygoing Tom Paris was capable of that sort of anger. The fight
hadn't lasted long. Paris had evidently stormed out of the mess hall after
informing B'Elanna they were finished.
When Chakotay heard about the altercation,
he figured it would all blow over in a few days. Paris and Torres were
known for their lively exchanges. Chakotay hadn't taken it seriously until
two weeks passed and Paris and Torres were still avoiding each other. Paris'
reclusive behavior was growing worse and Torres was burying herself in
Engineering with an air of quiet resignation that was uncommon for the
Engineer. That alone spoke of trouble much louder than any outburst could
have to Chakotay.
Chakotay had finally been able to
get B'Elanna to open up to him for a brief moment when he had slipped under
her guard. She had admitted to Chakotay that it had been a mistake to lie
to Tom about the message and that she knew she had broken something too
fragile to ever be mended. She and Tom would not be getting back together.
Chakotay had been shocked at the certainty with which she told him that.
His only consolation at that moment had been that B'Elanna did seem to
be getting on with her life and some of the old fire was returning to her
eyes. She was quieter these days but at least she still mingled with the
ship's populace. Tom, on the other hand, was retreating deeper and deeper
Swallowing his nervousness, Chakotay
signaled his presence at Paris' door and a moment later found himself entering
the pilot's quarters. He looked around, noting the clothing flung here
and there. Datapadds lay scattered across the desk and couch in disorganized
piles. Given what B'Elanna had said one time about Tom always picking up
after her, and her somewhat rueful comments about Tom being brought up
Starfleet, Chakotay had expected neater quarters. The disarray in Paris'
quarters seemed indicative of the pilot's current state of mind.
The subject of his thoughts stood
in the doorway to the bathroom drying his hands on a towel. He was dressed
in off-duty wear of loose T-shirt, shorts and bare feet. Tossing the towel
back into the bathroom, Paris leaned in the doorway, arms crossed in a
defensive posture which belied the laconic drawl that flowed forth.
"Something I can do for you, Commander?"
Chakotay stared at Paris for a long
moment, taking in the long legs and loose-limbed stance. The man was attractive.
No getting around that. He was also unobtainable as far as Chakotay was
concerned. He had entertained passing thoughts of asking Tom out at one
time, only to realize what a fantasy that was. There was simply too much
muddy water under the bridge between them. Besides, during those early
years on Voyager, Paris had barely tolerated him and Chakotay's
return offensive had been a similar intolerance.
It had been a long struggle to get
to where they currently were, with each having developed a modicum of respect
for the other. In Chakotay's case, that respect had grown into an unacknowledged
attraction. Then B'Elanna and Tom had become a couple and any fanciful
hopes Chakotay might have had about a possible relationship with Tom Paris
had remained buried. Now was not the time to resurrect those feelings.
Tom was obviously hurting. Chakotay merely wanted to give him someone to
talk to, and he realized with dawning sadness that there would most likely
never be a time for the two of them, which was unfortunate because Chakotay's
intuition told him that the two of them would be extraordinary together.
However, it took two to tango and Paris had never expressed an interest
of that sort in Chakotay.
Dragging his thoughts back to the
here and now, Chakotay met Paris' eyes. "We have a problem, Lieutenant."
"You do," amended Chakotay.
"I do." Paris left his post at the
bathroom doorway to wander about his quarters. He picked items up as if
straightening his quarters only to lay them down in another location seconds
later. Examining a shirt, which suddenly seemed to hold a fascination for
him, Paris said, "So enlighten me, Commander. What's my problem?"
"Tom, this isn't an official visit.
I have no complaints about how you've been performing your duties. But
I couldn't help notice the recent change in your disposition. A change
that seems to have occurred since you and B'Elanna parted ways. I'm here
to offer to listen if you need someone to talk to. We're concerned." Silently,
Chakotay cursed himself. Could he have sounded any more formal and stiff?
"We?" Tom gave a disbelieving laugh.
"Funny. You're the first person who has expressed any concern, other than
"Maybe that has something to do with
the tightlipped expression that's been frozen on your face for the past
two weeks." Chakotay frowned. That had come out harsher than intended.
Trying for a lighter tone, he teased, "Rather reminiscent of Admiral Paris."
Too late, Chakotay realized that had been the wrong thing to say as well.
Tom's head shot up, his expression
angry. "If you're here to talk about my father, you can leave now!" He
angrily began picking up the scattered clothing and tossing it all into
Sudden insight told Chakotay that
it wasn't the breakup with B'Elanna that had Paris in such a state of unsociability
although he was obviously upset about that too. No, it was the message
from his father that had him out of sorts. "Tom, what was in your message
from home?" he asked, careful to keep his tone gentle and not raise his
voice in reaction to Tom's earlier angry retort. "It's obviously got you
"Nothing," was Tom's sullen reply.
"Nothing? Come on. Your father obviously
said something to anger you," ventured Chakotay, ignoring Tom's wish to
not talk about his father.
Silence greeted his inquiry.
Trying again, Chakotay said, "Whatever
your father said couldn't have been that bad. You're his son. A son he
Tom whirled and was across the room
before Chakotay could comprehend he was in motion. Faces centimeters apart,
Tom spat out, "You have no idea what you're talking about. My father considers
me dead. B'Elanna lied to me. Nobody cares and I--" He cut himself off
before he could reveal any more and Chakotay found himself filled with
an intense curiosity to know what the other man had been about to say.
Not backing down from Tom's invasion
of his personal space, Chakotay stood his ground and said quietly, "I care."
Tom's eyes flickered but whatever flashed there was gone before Chakotay
could get a grasp on it.
Then Tom was moving again -- away
from Chakotay this time. When he spoke, his voice was bitter. "Tell me
one I'll believe, Chakotay."
Eyes flashing sparks of blue lightning,
Tom whirled to face Chakotay once again. "Don't!" he yelled. "Don't you
dare pretend to care! You've never liked me. You're only here because--
because--" Tom struggled for words.
"Because I care."
"NO!" Tom paced the room in short
angry strides. "You're just like everyone else. Pretending to be nice.
Nobody means it. He certainly never meant it."
Chakotay didn't have to ask who 'he'
was. It was obvious from Tom's tone of voice and the glance that flickered
toward a datapadd, which Chakotay suspected held the troublesome message
from home, that Tom was talking about his father.
"He never thought I was good enough.
You're the same way. No matter how hard I try it'll never be right. B'Elanna
-- god, I thought I could trust her." Tom's voice stumbled to a harsh whisper.
Anger, however, was still reverberating from his tightly strung body. "Sometimes
I wonder if he wasn't right. If everyone wouldn't be better off if I had
just died in that crash at Caldik."
Chakotay's blood chilled when Tom
voiced that thought. A flash of fear mixed with anger surged through him.
Not stopping to contemplate his actions, Chakotay reached out to grab Tom
by the shoulders. Tom tried to pull away, but Chakotay's fingers bit into
his shoulders, holding him in place. Chakotay readjusted his grip by grabbing
a fistful of Tom's T-shirt and dragging him closer. When their heads were
side by side, Chakotay spoke softly but intently into Tom's ear. "You're
wrong, Tom. We're better off out here because you're here. You do make
a difference. People do care what happens to you. I care." Chakotay's
voice took on a warning note. "And if I ever hear you say again that we'd
be better off if you had died at Caldik, I'll belt you into the middle
of next year. Is that clear?"
Tom went completely still for all
of two seconds before he tried to jerk out of Chakotay's grasp. Chakotay
wouldn't allow it. Maintaining his hold on the front of Tom's T-shirt,
he pushed the other man back until his thighs came in contact with the
desk. Effectively trapping Tom between the desk and his body, Chakotay
stared into surprised blue eyes from mere centimeters away and repeated
his question. "Is that clear?"
Eyes locked with Chakotay's in a
silent duel, Tom's reply was slow in coming.
"Is. That. Clear?" Chakotay's voice
had taken on a dangerous tone.
"Yes," Tom finally replied reluctantly.
Then, before he could stop his traitorous tongue, he asked, "Why?"
Chakotay pulled back slightly but
didn't loosen his hold. "Why what?"
"Why is this so important to you?"
Chakotay's voice softened. "Because
I care." Tom's gaze turned evasive. It was all Chakotay could do not to
sigh aloud in frustration. Round Two had apparently started and he still
didn't know the rules. "Tell me what's had you upset for the past two weeks."
Chakotay already had a very good idea what was disturbing Tom, but he wanted
to hear the other man say it -- to admit it.
"It's none of your business."
"Dammit, Paris--" Chakotay stopped
himself when he caught Tom giving him a satisfied smile. Damn the man.
He was trying to lead him away from what Chakotay wanted to discuss. He
could almost admire Tom's tactics if it weren't for the fact that he was
on the receiving end. Voice deceptively soft, Chakotay said, "Stop running
That lit a fire under Tom. His eyes
flared, his hands swept upward to push at Chakotay. When that didn't work,
he put his whole body into it, but Chakotay was like an immovable stone
statue. He had leverage on his side and wasn't about to let Tom escape
until the pilot started talking.
"Let go of me!" Tom hissed.
"Tell me what's so terrible about
the message from your father." Chakotay was relentless in his pursuit.
"Mind your own business!"
"I'm making this my business."
With a quick move, Tom nearly got
past Chakotay. Chakotay caught him by the shoulder and swung him around.
Tom stumbled into Chakotay and they ended up clinging to each other in
an attempt to stay on their feet. Sounds of harsh breathing filled the
otherwise silent room.
Chakotay's world narrowed down to
Tom Paris. He could feel Tom's chest rising and falling against his. Tom's
warm breath gently caressed his face. Even his scent was pulling at Chakotay.
How had he denied himself this for so long? It felt . . . right. So right.
Chakotay's hands moved as if they
had a will of their own to pull Tom's face down to his. And then his mouth
was covering lips that had been hovering just out of range -- until now.
He ground his mouth against Tom's. The pilot's mouth went slack at the
unexpected ambush and Chakotay took full advantage. His tongue had just
started to push its way into the sweet unexplored depths when Tom let out
a surprised whimper. It was enough to bring Chakotay back to his senses.
Chakotay reluctantly backed away,
not even noticing how Tom's lips chased after his in a futile attempt to
regain them. He was too lost in his embarrassment and arousal as he attempted
to put space between them to notice much of anything for several moments.
When he finally raised wary eyes
to gaze upon the flushed features of the man before him, Chakotay found
Tom, lips still slightly parted, staring at him with a dumbfounded expression.
Chakotay felt dizzy with the need for him. A twitch in his groin only served
to confirm his desire but common sense and a growing discomfort over his
rash actions of moments ago were enough to help him keep his distance.
Still, a part of Chakotay marveled at the fire that had been in that kiss
and he couldn't help but think it had been worth it, even if Paris killed
him for it in the next few seconds. Good god, it had definitely been worth
it. He's absolutely the most beautiful thing I've ever seen or touched.
Wide blue eyes met wide brown ones
and for a brief panicked second, Chakotay thought he had spoken aloud.
He watched as the expression on Tom's face shifted. The blue eyes narrowed
as they roved downward to take in the evidence of Chakotay's arousal. Tom
licked his lips and Chakotay felt himself swallowing nervously when he
realized that Tom was playing with him. This wasn't what he had intended
when he came here. He only wanted to help Tom get past whatever was bothering
him. Not seduce him. His focus inward was so intense as he tried to sort
out the mass of confusing thoughts that Chakotay completely missed Tom's
His breath hissed out of him in a
groan when Chakotay suddenly found himself being slammed up against the
wall at his back. He would have rebounded off the wall except that Tom
had him pinned to it with his body. Chakotay closed his eyes, stiffening
in anticipation of the blow he was certain was coming. He definitely deserved
it for the liberties he had just taken.
When the blow landed, Chakotay's
surprise was so complete that an involuntary cry escaped him, but the sound
of his surprise was quickly smothered by Tom's lips on his. No furious
slaps fell upon him. No angry fists pummeled him. Only Tom's lips, hungrily
coaxing a reaction out of him.
Every single move between the two
men for the next few minutes was a battle.
Tom opened his mouth wider, intent
on consuming Chakotay.
Chakotay's tongue darted in to take
advantage of the defenseless interior.
Tom shifted position to cover Chakotay's
body with his own and press him into the wall.
Chakotay retaliated by shoving a
thigh between Tom's legs to nudge Tom's erection.
Tom's hands trapped Chakotay's face.
Chakotay's fingers caressed the hairs at the back of Tom's neck. Tom rubbed
his groin against Chakotay's in a titillating manner.
Chakotay's hands kneaded Tom's buttocks,
pulling him in even closer until they were trapped against each other.
Move and countermove.
Both men groaned in unison, swept
along by the wildfire. Their passion flowed moved fast and furious. They
were totally consumed by it. Chakotay felt as if he would explode at any
moment. Tom felt a white-hot burning that only Chakotay could feed.
Still locked together, Tom pulled
Chakotay away from the wall and pressed him down over the desk. One hand
swept out behind Chakotay to knock the desk's contents to the floor as
he laid Chakotay out over the desk. Mouth still hungrily consuming Chakotay's,
Tom shifted to move a leg between Chakotay's legs, urging them apart. His
slid between them to stroke Chakotay through his uniform. Chakotay groaned
into his mouth, begging for more. Tom obliged him.
With shocking suddenness, Chakotay
tore his mouth away from Tom's. "No!" he breathed raggedly. It didn't feel
right this time. Tom was pursuing him with a hunger that was maniacal in
its intensity. Something wasn't right here. A moment of clarity hit and
Chakotay knew Tom was pursuing him merely to avoid talking about his troubles.
Chakotay caught his breath as Tom's lips continued their relentless pursuit
over his jaw and down his neck while his hand stroked his erection through
"You know you want it," encouraged
Tom, his voice velvet.
"No," Chakotay repeated again, more
clearly this time. "You're just using this to avoid talking about what's
really bothering you." He felt Tom tense and then the other man was off
him and moving away. Chakotay was appalled at how bereft he felt.
His erection aching from unfulfilled
needs and his heart ringing hollowly, Chakotay slowly rose to his feet.
He carefully adjusted his uniform, letting his eyes slide shut while he
took several deep breaths in an attempt to get his fevered emotions and
body under control. When he opened his eyes, it was to see Tom, a stony
expression on his face, watching him. No evidence of Tom's own arousal
that had been burning so hotly just moments ago could be seen. The eyes
had gone glacial, and his body was frozen in a "don't touch" pose. The
arms were once again crossed over his chest in a familiar defensive manner.
Chakotay took another steadying breath.
What had passed between them moments ago had been much more than he had
ever imagined it might be. Despite his knowledge that Tom had been using
the heat of the moment to distract him from discussing Tom's personal troubles,
Chakotay knew Tom had enjoyed the steamy interlude as much as he had. There
was a spark between them that had never been acknowledged until now. Chakotay
badly wanted to see that spark flame into something more. But now wasn't
Praying his voice wouldn't crack
when he spoke, Chakotay said, "You can't keep running from this, Tom."
Tom's eyes hardened. "You just don't
get it, do you?"
"Why don't you tell me?"
"About what? A father who despises
his son so much that he uses the possibly one and only contact he may have
with him for the rest of his life to tell him so?"
Chakotay frowned, denial on his lips
that Tom's father would have behaved toward him that way. Surely Tom was
simply overreacting. He was beginning to have his doubts, however. Why
else would B'Elanna have ever chanced withholding the message from Tom
unless it was truly as bad as Tom painted it. Still, all Chakotay said
was, "I know you and your father don't get along but it couldn't have been
"You don't believe me?" Tom's cold
voice whipped over Chakotay in a painful lash. "Fine. Watch it for yourself
Tom, his movements stiff and angry,
approached the desk. He knelt down to sift through the assorted datapadds
and other sundry that he had so haphazardly shoved off the desk just minutes
ago. Finding what he wanted, he inserted the datapadd into the larger viewer
on his desk and stepped away, his back turned to both the viewer and Chakotay.
A voice spoke from the viewer. A
voice that was always in command. A voice that demanded it be listened
to. Chakotay found his gaze riveted on the viewer, shocked at the amount
of hate emanating from those blue eyes that were so like Tom's in every
way except for the emotions that shone from them.
Chakotay had never seen that kind
of hate shine from Tom's eyes. He'd never seen a parent show such hate
for their own child. It was simply not within his realm of reason that
a parent would ever show such hate for their own child. Chakotay wondered
how many years Tom had been forced to live with that hatred.
How many years had Tom longed for
forgiveness from his father? A forgiveness that should have willingly been
given due to the simple fact that they were father and son and no matter
what your child did, no matter how little you understood it, there should
always be forgiveness in your heart for your child.
Chakotay's heart ached for Tom when
he realized Tom had been right. This message was worse than he could have
ever imagined. No wonder he had been walking around the ship for the past
two weeks with that unaccustomed tightlipped expression.
And B'Elanna had kept this from him.
A part of Chakotay could understand
B'Elanna's need to shield Tom from this but Chakotay, with a certainty
that surprised him, knew he would never have withheld the message from
Tom. Tom had a right to see it. No matter how painful.
His eyes raised from the vid message
of Owen Paris verbally whipping his son to find the younger Paris' eyes
on him, watching his reaction to the message. For a brief moment Chakotay
saw hurt, a deep wounding hurt, on Tom's face, but it was quickly covered
by an I-told-you-so smirk. Chakotay hadn't imagined the wounded look though.
And he now realized that patented Paris smirk covered a plethora of hurts
and deep wounds that this man had been covering for years. Knowing there
was nothing he could say that would take the pain away, Chakotay kept it
"I'm sorry," he said quietly.
Tom shrugged, his expression revealing
"Don't you think it would be better
if you dealt with this?" Chakotay finally asked. "So you can get beyond
it? It's not doing you any good to fixate on it. Your father's not worth
the effort. Tom, you're a good man. I've seen that these last three years.
If your father can't see that, then it's his problem. Not yours."
Tom was now contemplating the deck
beneath his feet. "Just leave it be, Chakotay. You can't fix everything,
"Maybe not. But I'd feel better if
I thought you wanted it fixed. Right now, you're wallowing in it. That's
not a good place to be."
Tom, his face averted, moved around
Chakotay to remove the message from his terminal. It slipped from Tom's
fingers to the deck, the noise of impact abnormally loud in the quiet room.
Moving slowly, Tom bent to pick it up.
Chakotay's gaze snapped to Tom when
he heard the muffled sob. Tom stood with his back to Chakotay, the datapadd
clenched tightly in one hand. He held himself as if in pain. Chakotay couldn't
take any more of this. Tom was hurting. There had to be something he could
do to ease that hurt.
He quietly made his way to where
the other man stood still as a statue. A tentative touch to Tom's shoulder
caused Tom to tense up. Chakotay didn't let it deter him. He wrapped Tom
in his embrace, pulling him back until he rested against his chest. Tom
made no verbal protest and after a moment he slowly relaxed into Chakotay's
arms and leaned back against the solid wall of support behind him.
Tom let his eyes close. Oh God. It
felt so good to be held by someone. Someone who cared. He didn't doubt
for a moment that Chakotay cared. Every word, every action, every touch
had shown him that in the last few minutes. When Tom finally spoke, it
was in a whisper that Chakotay had to strain to hear. "I'm so tired of
all the anger and hatred. I want to feel some happiness. Some joy. Do you
have any idea how long it's taken me to realize I have a right to
feel those things?"
Chakotay felt tears pricking at his
eyes at Tom's words. This man. He hurt so deeply. How had he kept all that
hurt buried? Or had he, Chakotay, just never cared enough to look for it?
Or had he been to frightened to look for it, knowing what admissions he
would have to make?
"You have every right, Tom."
Tom's hands came up to cover Chakotay's
where they where clasped across his chest. He leaned his head back against
Chakotay's shoulder. "Make love to me, Chakotay. Please. Give me some happiness.
Give me something to feel, something I won't regret."
Chakotay thought his heart would
burst in that moment with love for this man. He knew Tom didn't love him.
He wasn't even certain what class of love his feelings for the other man
fell under, but in that moment, for that moment, Chakotay knew he would
do anything for Tom just to bring some joy to his life.
He began slowly. A nip here. A kiss
there. A tongue caressing an ear. A kiss that trailed along a jawline.
Tom practically wilted into him, letting Chakotay set the pace. This was
not the frenzied lovemaking of minutes ago but a slow loving caress that
was healing and touched both men's souls.
Slowly, Tom turned in Chakotay's
arms and their mouths met. No fiery passion this time. Instead, they met
in a slow gentle exploration of each other that tasted of newness that
had not yet been trampled by life's miseries. Their touch was fresh. Untouched.
Both reveled in the virgin taste of lovers first coming together, knowing
it could never be like this again.
Tom's tongue slipped between Chakotay's
lips in offering. Chakotay sucked on his tongue, tasting a sweetness that
blossomed like sunlight. His hands moved beneath Tom's T-shirt to explore
the flat plains of his abdomen before moving around to trail his hands
in sensual patterns over Tom's back.
Tom reciprocated by undoing the front
closure of Chakotay's uniform and pushing the underlying tunic up to bare
Chakotay's chest. He ground his groin against Chakotay's, a smile turning
up his mouth at Chakotay's needful moan.
"Chakotay," breathed Tom against
his mouth. "Bed."
Chakotay blindly followed where the
other man led as Tom slowly walked him backward toward the sleeping quarters,
never breaking their embrace. Both men's mouths remained busy exploring
each other. By the time they reached the bed, Tom had Chakotay's uniform
down to his waist and the tunic completely off, abandoned to the floor
somewhere along the way. Tom's T-shirt had met a similar fate.
As if by mutual agreement, both men
pulled away and finished disrobing quickly. Chakotay wasn't surprised to
that Tom had nothing on underneath the shorts. He'd suspected as much earlier.
They fell onto the bed, a tangle
of naked limbs. Chakotay pinned Tom to the bed and Tom surrendered willingly
when Chakotay began a slow exploration of the body underneath his. His
lips and hands didn't miss an exposed expanse of skin except for the growing
erection. Chakotay came teasingly close but never allowed his touch to
quite come in contact with it. Tom's hips lifted in supplication and Chakotay
finally bowed to the unspoken request.
A heated warmth engulfed his erection
and Tom nearly came off the bed at the overwhelming sensations that flooded
through him as Chakotay's mouth caressed him. His hips began thrusting
and he was lost in what he could only describe as heavenly bliss. Tom wanted
to shout with the joy of it but couldn't find the breath to do so.
His hooded eyes peered down his body
to see Chakotay, mouth wrapped about him. Tom nearly came from the sight
of that alone. But he needed more. He needed for Chakotay to consume him.
To make him forget. His fingers ran a sensual trail through Chakotay's
hair before coming to rest on his face. Their eyes met.
"In me, Chakotay," Tom gasped. "I
need to feel you in me."
The warmth of Chakotay's mouth moved
up Tom's body in a fiery path to latch onto his lips. Tom gladly let Chakotay
plunder his mouth until he could no longer avoid the need for Chakotay
to take him.
Sliding from beneath Chakotay, Tom
fumbled in the bedside drawer for a moment until he found what he was looking
for. Popping the lid off the tube, Tom squeezed the oil out into his hands
that warmed instantly upon contact with air. Leaning in to kiss Chakotay,
Tom took the other man's erection between his hands and slowly worked the
oil over it, delighting in the tremors he could feel coursing through Chakotay's
Still stroking Chakotay, Tom dipped
down to bite at one of the pebbled nipples. Chakotay gasped, his whole
body surging forward into Tom's. Tom's mouth was suddenly everywhere. Chakotay
felt as if he were on fire. He slowly became aware that Tom was speaking.
Chanting something, actually. Chakotay tried to concentrate long enough
to catch what it was.
Chakotay's hands captured Tom's face
between them. He gently touched his lips to Tom's. "You have me."
They both stilled for a long moment,
foreheads resting together, their bodies gently rocking in tandem. It was
a moment full of unspoken truths. Chakotay felt like rejoicing and crying
at the same time. Before the moment could get any deeper, Tom pulled away.
He lay face down on the bed, a pillow placed beneath him to elevate his
rear end. His legs spread invitingly. It was an invitation Chakotay couldn't
Grabbing the tube of oil from where
Tom had abandoned it, Chakotay liberally greased his hands. Sitting astride
Tom, he gently but forcefully kneaded the oil into Tom's shoulders, slowly
working his way down his backside.
Chakotay's big hands gently caressed
Tom's rounded buttocks. Tom wiggled encouragingly and Chakotay pulled the
twin mounds apart to dip a finger in to tease at the rosy puckered opening.
It quivered at Chakotay's touch. He slowly worked a finger into the spasming
opening. Tom's fingers clenched at the bedclothes as he gasped.
Chakotay fulfilled Tom's request
by plunging his finger all the way in, his finger grazing Tom's prostrate.
Only Chakotay's weight atop Tom's legs kept him down. Before Tom had time
to recover, Chakotay added a second penetrating finger. He carefully stretched
Tom, who lay gasping inarticulately beneath him. The third finger slid
easily in and Tom pulled himself up to all fours, pushing himself back
Chakotay would have preferred to
take him from the front so he could watch Tom but the other man seemed
to want it this way so Chakotay obliged. The tip of his erection pushed
at Tom's opening. Chakotay held Tom's hips to control his impatient backward
Tom's head drooped between his shoulders
as he struggled for control, his breath panting in uneven gasps now. Chakotay
pushed, sliding past the outer ring of resistance. With a sudden shift
of his hips, Chakotay plunged his full length into Tom. Tom's back arched,
his hips moving back to meet Chakotay's thrust.
Chakotay stilled for a moment to
allow Tom to adjust. He leaned over Tom's back, planting kisses across
it. Tom began rocking back and forth, his need evident. Chakotay matched
his movements to Tom's, his thrusts at first gentle but the pace quickly
Chakotay thrust hard and deep, one
particularly energetic thrust driving Tom's arms out from underneath him.
Chakotay wrapped an arm around Tom's chest and pulled him to a kneeling
position so that Tom's back was to his chest. His other hand wrapped around
Tom's erection and began pumping in time to his thrusts. Tom's hands moved
back to grasp Chakotay's hips, encouraging him to thrust even harder. Both
men were breathing heavily, their cries mingling until it was difficult
to tell who was who.
Just before an eruption of volcanic
proportions hit, Chakotay felt Tom tense and then his juices were shooting
out over Chakotay's hand, which was still clasped around Tom's erection.
Chakotay's lips gently touched to Tom's neck as the other man shook from
the intense orgasm. Then Chakotay felt Tom tightening around him. He uttered
a hoarse cry and with one final thrust released into Tom.
They both teetered on the edge of
the abyss for long moment before falling, tumbling down together mutual