The BLTS Archive - That Little Boy's Smile
by Regina Bellatrix (reginabellatrix@creativemachinations.com)

---

Series/Sequel:  Sequel to *Soft Southern Style*, for everyone who
asked that I write one.

Beta: shakespearespot

Archive: Yes to EntStCommunity, Tim Ruben, and BLTS.  Anyone else,
please ask.

N.B.: The thing about the pineapple juice is supposedly true – heard
it on the *Sunday Sex Show*.  I knew there was a reason to be
watching it other than boredom!  ~RB

---

The wedding had been spectacular.  Everyone on the ship had  thrown
themselves into the festivities with glee.  The ship had been
decorated throughout with crepe paper, Main Engineering and the
Armoury being the hardest hit.  Chef had had a marvellous time  baking
the three-tiered cake, topping it with a little pair of  Starfleet
officers in dress uniform.  The crewman who had made the  figures had
even gone so far as to make one blonde and the other  brunette.

Hoshi had talked Malcolm out of two potential nervous break- downs,
and Jon had kept Trip happily drunk the night before, Phlox  fixing
the results of Jon's helpfulness that morning.  The men had  made it
through the ceremony with a little prodding from Travis and  Hoshi,
and now Malcolm sat on his bed, staring at the ring on his  finger in
disbelief.

"Hey, Mal darlin', you okay?"  The mattress sunk as Trip sat  down
next to him.

"Fine.  I'm fine."  Malcolm looked up, smiling into his  husband's
perfect blue eyes.  "Just a little stunned at the speed of
everything.  I got engaged three weeks ago and now I'm a married
man."

Trip chuckled softly.  "Yeah, who knew everybody would get  so into
the idea of a weddin'?  `Specially the cap'n."

"He was rather thrilled by the opportunity to marry us,  wasn't he?"

"I think that j'st about made his year."

"Mmm...  Mine, too."

Trip smiled happily, leaning in to place a reverent kiss on  Malcolm's
lips.  "Love you.  Can't imagine what I ever did to  deserve you."

"All you had to do was be you.  I often wonder what I did to  deserve
*you*."

"You didn't kill me for knockin' you out an' draggin' you  back to my
lair."  Trip gave Malcolm a wry smile, which was answered  by a kiss.

"Never would, love.  Never."

---

Ten days.  They had ten days to themselves in a little  forest on an
uninhabited  planet.  *Enterprise* had a science team  surveying a
spot some thousand miles away, so that while Trip and  Malcolm were
enjoying a rustic honeymoon, work was still being done.

Putting his scouting skills to work for them, Malcolm  directed the
set-up of the camp, fixing lunch when they were done.   The first
thing Trip wanted to do was to go exploring with his  camera,
insisting that he needed "lots of pictures for the scrapbook  and the
folks back home."  Malcolm had other ideas about what they  ought to
be doing, but he figured that he could spring them on Trip  out in the
forest as well as anywhere.

An hour into their explorations, the newlyweds found a happy  little
brook next to which Malcolm convinced Trip they should sit  down and
rest.  The engineer didn't suspect a thing until his  husband was
pinning him to the mossy ground, slipping a hand up  under his shirt.

Calloused fingers found a nipple, tweaking it lightly, and  Trip
gasped into Malcolm's mouth, allowing his tongue entrance.  All  the
while Malcolm's hands were wandering down Trip's body, stopping  at
the fly of his jeans to make a concerted effort at getting them  off
the blonde.

"Mmm...  Malcolm!  What're you doin'?"

Malcolm inserted his hand in Trip's open fly, rubbing his  palm across
Trip's growing erection.  "What does it feel like I'm  doing?"

"Gettin' me all wound up.  But Mal ...  outside??"

"Why not?"  He nipped Trip's bared midriff.  "There's no one  around
for hundreds of miles, and I like this spot."  He got an evil  glint
in his eye and grinned broadly, working the camera from Trip's  lax
fingers.  "In fact... I think I'd like a picture to remember it  by."

"Oh no.  No no no..."  Trip lunged for the camera, flopping,
undignified, on the ground.  "No, Malcolm!"

"No one will see them but us."  Malcolm fiddled with the  camera,
programming it to take one shot every minute and then  wedging it in a
tree so that Trip's current position was fully in  the frame.  "We can
have a private honeymoon photo album."  He  walked back over to Trip,
kissing him just as the camera went off.

The kiss stopped Trip's protests, and he helped Malcolm  strip off his
jeans and briefs.  In the next moment, Trip was  mumbling incoherently
because Malcolm's mouth had transferred itself  to his cock.  Malcolm
was laid out between Trip's legs, arms twined  around the blonde's
thighs, hands holding his twitching hips still.   He applied himself
with a single-minded zeal to the task of sucking  off his husband, and
before long the man was coming with a deep- throated cry.

Releasing Trip's now-limp member, Malcolm slid up to claim a  languid
kiss.  He rubbed his still clothed erection against his  lover's body
insistently.  Trip kissed back with as much enthusiasm  as his sated
body would allow, fumbling with the button on Malcolm's  jeans.
Malcolm took the hint and finished what Trip had started,  unzipping
and shucking off his pants.

Trip watched admiringly as his husband removed his clothes  and
grinned up at the brunette when he threw the legwear over to  join
Trip's clothing.

"You were plannin' on this weren't you?"

"What makes you say that?"

"You were goin' commando, darlin'."  He licked his lips,  eyeing the
other man's nakedness, as Malcolm turned to rummage in  his pack.

"I came prepared, too."  Malcolm brandished a tube of  lubricant
triumphantly.

"Boy scout."

"Eagle scout," said Malcolm archly.  "There is a difference,  you
know."  He lay back down next to Trip, kissing him sweetly.
Squeezing a generous glob of the lube out onto his fingers, he began
to stretch his husband out.

"That's right," Trip gasped out, "Eagle scouts got more  skills."

"Yes," said Malcolm, slicking himself up, "like this."   Bringing
Trip's legs up to his shoulders, he pushed inside, making  the
Southerner moan and squirm beneath him in pleasure.

"Oh yeah...  Oh darlin'...   More, move, gimme more."

Malcolm complied, capturing Trip's lips in gentle kisses at  the
deepest point of each thrust.  When he came, it was with the  blood
pounding in his ears and Trip's name on his lips.

---

"I do love a clear night's sky," said Trip, snuggling  against Malcolm
as he gazed upwards.  "It's like black velvet with  diamonds sprinkled
across the surface."

"Mmm..."  Malcolm nuzzled the blonde head resting on his  shoulder.
"It is lovely.  Not so lovely as you, though."

"Silver tongued devil."  Trip tilted his head back and  reached up to
claim a kiss.  "Funny, it doesn't taste it."

"Smart alec."

"It's why you love me.  I shoulda known you wouldn't taste  anythin'
but sweet.  You always taste sweet.  All of you."  Trip  cupped
Malcolm's groin meaningfully, waggling his eyebrows.

"It's because I drink pineapple juice."

"Beg pardon?"

"Pineapple juice makes ejaculate taste sweeter."

"Does it now?"

"It does."

"Maybe I should start drinkin' it."

"If you like, but don't feel pressured.  I like the way you  taste
just fine.  Very manly."

"That's what I like t' hear.  How about we organise  somethin' of a
taste test here?"

"Right here?"

"Uh-huh."


"That's what I like to hear."

---

"Hey, Malcolm!  I brought you some flowers."  Trip proffered  the
alien blooms triumphantly, a bright smile on his face.  The  smile
vanished when Malcolm waved the offering away weakly.

"Take them ah... ah... away."  A look of relief passed  across
Malcolm's face as the sneeze was circumvented, only to be  shattered
as he sneezed anyway.  "Shoot me now."

"Aww, honey, your allergies buggin' you?  Did Phlox send any
medicine?"

"Yes, and I already took it.  It hasn't kicked in yet.  It's  not
fair.  I shouldn't have to deal with allergies on my honeymoon."

Trip tossed the flowers off into the bush and stepped into  the tent,
settling next to his miserable spouse.  He pulled  Malcolm's head into
his lap and began to stroke the dark hair.

"I'm sorry you're sick.  Is there anythin' you want me t'  do?  Make
you some tea?"

"Tea would be nice," he paused to blow his nose, "but stay  here for a
bit first.  This is comforting."

"Anything you want, darlin'.  You j'st tell me when you want  me to go
make your tea for you."

"Thank you, dear."  He patted Trip's knee and grabbed one of  his
husband's hands, bringing it up to his lips to place a gentle  kiss on
the knuckles.  "You're too sweet."

"Thought I was manly."

"That too, but you'll always be my sweet blonde boy."

---

"I believe in miracles, since you came along, you sexy  thing,"
Malcolm belted the old song out as Trip ducked into the  tent, their
dinners in hand.  He smiled beatifically up at the  blonde.

"Do you now?  I'm cuttin' off your allergy medicine.  It's  makin' you
loopy."  Trip sat down next to Malcolm, handing him his  food.  "Eat,
maybe it'll make you sane again."

"But I feel good."

"I'm sure you do, but you're trippin' out on me here, and  I'm used to
you bein' the level-headed one."

"Tripping out," Malcolm grinned, looking goofy, and sat up,  wrapping
his arms around his husband.  "I prefer tripping out on  Trip.  I'd
like to do that right now."  He giggled, then batted his  eyes at
Trip.

"None of that until after dinner.  Eat."  He tapped the end  of
Malcolm's nose and kissed it, repeating, "Eat."

"Yes, dear."


Having a full stomach made Malcolm tired, and he curled up  next to
Trip, falling asleep at once.  Trip looked down on his  spouse,
wondering if the decision to stick out the last four days of  their
honeymoon was a wise one.  Malcolm could hardly be enjoying  the
vacation, filled to the gills with drugs as he was, and Trip  worried
about him too much to leave him on his own while he took off  to enjoy
the countryside.

He made an executive decision, then, and disentangled  himself from
his sleeping love, walking outside so as not to disturb  the man.
Trip would call *Enterprise* and request a morning pick-up  for the
two of them.  The rest of their honeymoon would be more  enjoyably
spent in their quarters, he felt, and hoped that Malcolm  would agree.

---

Once the medications had cleared from his system and he was  in his
right mind again, Malcolm approved of Trip's choice to return  to the
ship.  Getting him to agree to leave the planet while high on  allergy
medication had been another matter.  Luckily, Trip and  Travis had
managed to convince the recalcitrant Englishman to get in  the
shuttlepod with a minimum of embarrassing outbursts.

It was currently mid-afternoon, and the newlyweds were  spooned
together in the new, double-sized bed the engineering crew  had
installed in their revamped quarters.  Trip felt positively  sinful,
lying abed, naked and sated at a time during which he was  usually on
duty.

"This is much nicer than sleeping in two sleeping bags  zipped
together."  Malcolm rolled over, snuggling into Trip, placing  kisses
along his collar bone.

"Ain't it, though?"

"Mm hmm...  Not so romantic as the forest, but very nice.
Although..."  He trailed off, a devilish glint in his eyes.

"Although what?"

"We could peruse our photo album."  Malcolm traced circles  around
Trip's nipples.  "Our private photo album."

Trip shivered with anticipation.  "You are a naughty boy."

"Your naughty boy."

"Damn straight.  And I'm your sweet blonde boy."

"Always."

---

The End