The BLTS Archive - Late Night Contemplations
 by Macx (macx@nexgo.de)

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Archive: sure!

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Disclaimer: Don't own a single one of 'em. All Paramount's.

Author's Voice of Warning (aka Author's Note): English is not my first
language; it's German. This is the best I can do. Any mistakes you
find in here, collect them and you might win a prize <g>

The spell-checker said everything's okay, but  you know how
trustworthy those thingies are.....

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It was late. Late enough to be early already again, depending on one's
view of things. The ship was silent, most of the men and women retired
for the night and the skeleton crew that had remained was mostly on
the bridge and down in the engine room. The armory was deserted. No
one had any excuse being here and working, except the man in charge of
this department.

Malcolm Reed sat on a chair, a PADD in front of him. His eyes weren't
on the data displayed on the small devices screen, nor on the assorted
papers strewn haphazardly across the table. He was staring off into
space, his thoughts miles away.

Yes, it was late. He had come off a double shift, only to run into
Ensign Hoshi Sato, who he had promised to run through a few more
target shooting tests. So the next two hours had been filled with
Hoshi blasting away at the dummy target and him correcting her
movements and weapons handling. It had been late when she had left,
but that had been five hours ago already.

Malcolm pinched the bridge of his nose. He felt tired, but only
mentally, not physically. Too much had happened lately and while he
had had rest periods, he hadn't been able to relax and regenerate
himself. Not even the strange nerve gas used by the alien pirates had
helped. Then again, being unconscious for a few hours wasn't a body's
interpretation of relaxation. And there was always something to do for
him, so he didn't really ponder about his erratic schedules. Now he
sat in the armory, the only place on the whole ship aside from his
quarters where he might get some peace and quiet. Even the mess hall
wasn't always deserted at nights. His quarters were too distracting to
work in. There was also the danger of losing himself in something
else. His lover. Commander Charles 'Trip' Tucker III. The last person
he had ever thought of becoming more than friends with.

Hell, he wouldn't have believed in a friendship unless hell froze
over, but a lot had happened since their first mission. A lot had
changed between the two men. They had come to accept each other, then
become friends, close friends, and finally. . . . lovers. It had been
a slow process, one filled with carefully tap-dancing around his
friend, looking for openings, trying to determine if the feeling and
the attraction was mutual. It had all come to blows, literally, in a
sparring session in the gym. Trip had teased him about the fact that
Reed, as head of security, was mostly smaller and much more slender
than the rest of his staff. And it had ended in Malcolm sitting atop a
heavily breathing engineer, his hands curled around strong wrists,
pushing them to the mat left and right of Tucker's head, staring into
a pair of blue eyes.

"Size and strength are not everything, Commander."

Heavy puffs of warm air. "Yeah, I can see that."

"There's also tactics and speed, as well as using one's opponent's
misconceptions against him."

Even today he didn't know what had possessed him to be so bold, to
actually lean down and kiss his friend – who happened to be his
superior officer. He only remembered the reaction, the brief
stiffening of the lean body, then the lips opening under his assault
and another tongue battling it out with his. After that, things had
developed more slowly, starting from stark embarrassment on Malcolm's
part to becoming lovers in the end.

It was an amazing feeling, Malcolm mused. Something he thought about
often, something he tried to analyze and always drew a blank. They
were so different, and not just in appearance. What had drawn him to
Tucker? So many things had meshed together to create an attraction. So
many details that had become so much more. He couldn't really tell.
And what did Trip see in him? In the beginning he had tried to find an
answer. Maybe Tucker was only wiling away his time, needed a bed
partner, but that had been disproved many, many times. And Malcolm
wasn't the one to worry himself into a knot about it any more.

They were in a relationship, were a couple, had sex. A slow smile
crossed his tired features as he thought of his blond lover. Trip had
confessed to being experimental, that he had had a male lover before,
but it had never progressed beyond a rather sloppy blowjob. So Malcolm
had decided to take it slow, breach the oh-so many forms of male
love-making to Trip one at a time. True to his word, Commander Tucker
had been willing to experiment. Now, nearly a year later, their sex
life held some interesting spices. But it wasn't just the sex either.
It was mind-blowing, true. It left Malcolm gasping and panting, heart
hammering, spinning in a world of pleasure and satisfaction.

It was the man as such, he had decided a long time ago. It was Trip,
all that made him what he was, from his Southern accent, his cocky
attitude, the slow smiles, the incredibly expressive face, to the
quick mind, the intellect hidden behind the smooth charm, the whole
personality. The engineer had captured something of Malcolm Reed, a
part of his soul. He loved Trip. No second thoughts, no doubts.

So why was he here, in this empty room? Why wasn't he with his lover,
unwinding between shifts, talking, laughing, touching, loving?

Reed sighed and tried to concentrate on his PADD again, but to no
avail. He wanted to work on the force field, wanted to get the last
errors out of the basic design, maybe even look into an upgrade.
Somehow, it all evaded him.

The soft swishing sound of the door opening tickled the edge of his
hearing, but his mind was far too busy trying to point out to him that
he should consider sleep to actually listen.

"There you are."

The voice startled him slightly, but he recognized it and didn't go
from zero to battle mode in half a second. A warm hand dropped onto
his tense shoulder and Malcolm felt his eyes close on their own
volition. "You hidin', lieutenant?" the Southern voice whispered into
his ear.

"No. I'm trying to get some work done."

A second hand joined the first, mirroring the move on the other
shoulder. Trip leaned forward, putting some weight on his hands,
squeezing lean shoulders.

"Looks like yer shufflin' papers, Mal."

Breath tickled across his cheek and Reed felt himself sink into the
warmth. Trip's thumbs began to gently caress the exposed neck,
feathering over the skin, applying some pressure here or there. The
lieutenant closed his eyes, leaning into the caress. One temple was
nuzzled and now the rest of the fingers joined in the massage. He
sighed in pleasure.

"You been holin' up a lot lately," Trip murmured, nibbling along one
ear. "Haven't seen ya anywhere except on duty." They had seen
painfully little of each other, true. Malcolm had missed his lover,
but work had dominated his life, and even off duty, he had always
found something or other that needed his attention.

"You avoidin' me?"

He started. "No!" Reed exclaimed, trying to twist around, but the low
laugh and some pressure on his shoulders stopped him.

"Good," Tucker drawled, continuing his massage.

"I apologize," Malcolm sighed.. "I. . .  was just so busy."

The chuckle seemed to ripple through the Brit's body, small vibrations
of amusement that permeated his very bones. "You always are, Mal." The
strong hands worked on a tight knot in the right shoulder, digging
into the muscle, and Reed groaned. The groan turned into a noise of
protest when the massage suddenly stopped, but he barely had any time
to register the absence as Trip swung one long leg over his lap and
settled himself over the smaller man. Tucker cupped his face and
bestowed a loving kiss on Malcolm's lips. It was almost chaste, a
request to proceed, a promise that there would be more if he was
allowed to. Reed opened his lips under the butterfly touch and the
other man took the invitation, letting himself sink deeper into the
warm cavern. Tongues stroked against each other and Malcolm wound his
arms around the slender waist of his lover, holding him tight.

Trip explored his mouth, thoroughly, meticulously, both only parting
just as much as was needed to get some air for the next round. Time
stood still as the two lovers ran tender hands over the other's body,
kissed and licked at pliant lips. Trip was a very responsive man, Reed
had discovered early on, as well as a loving partner. While their sex
was fantastic, moments like these were treasured and often sought.
Just them, touching wordlessly, and completely at ease.

A zipper was opened and Malcolm leaned back enough to allow his blond
lover to strip him out of the upper part of his uniform, down to the
black undershirt. Trip did the same, then embraced him again, his
hands sliding under the black garment and over warm skin. Instead of
trying to push it up and undress Malcolm further, he simply leaned
forward and rested his forehead on the lieutenant's shoulder. Reed
kissed the side of the engineer's neck down to where it disappeared
into the uniform shirt.

"Missed you," Tucker murmured after a while.

Malcom slipped his hands under Trip's shirt and played along the
muscles and vertebrae of his lover's lower back. "And I you. I'm
sorry. I was so caught up in work."

Another chuckle, again vibrating through the other man. "You need a
life, Mal."

"I have one. Aboard this ship. With you," the Brit answered, voice
barely above a whisper.

Trip's hold on him tightened and the blond head was lifted, blue eyes
gazing at him, filled with soft feelings. He kissed him, running his
tongue across Malcolm's lower lip.

"Then come to bed once inna while, will ya? Sheet's are real cold."

"Maybe I should get you a comforter or a heat pack then?" Reed teased.

"You're all the comfort and heat I need," was the throaty reply.
Malcolm wove his hands into the dark blond hair and pulled him into
another kiss, this one relaying all he felt, all he wanted, all he
needed. It was a deep, hard and long kiss, raising the heat in every
sense of the word. But it was a slow burn, relaying hunger and
passion, tempered but still intense. Trip's hands stroked over his
lover's sides, trying to push down inside the uniform toward the lean
hips, but it was a tight fit. Too tight. He moaned into the hot mouth
that plundered his. Malcolm inhaled deeply when they parted once more,
resting his head against Trip's, trembling slightly. Tucker ran
soothing hands over the lean form.

"Mal?" he murmured after a while.

"Hm?" came the answer.

Trip grinned and sat back, shifting his weight to rest more
comfortably on his lover's thighs. "There's this rumor among the crew.
No idea what to think of it. . .  but. . .  y'know, they believe
there's somethin' like 'sleep' cruisin' the halls. Seems t'be helpin'
a lot of people I know." Tired eyes flared with amusement and Reed
raised his eyebrows. "Rumors, commander, I assure you. Sleep is highly
overrated."

Trip caressed one smooth cheek. Malcolm had recently shaved again. Now
the dark-haired man leaned unconsciously into the touch, his eyes
briefly sliding shut.

"Yeah, but I cherish it. How about you have a go at it and we'll see
how you like it?"

Reed smiled, exhaustion now clear on his features. "What about work?"
"What about it?" Trip stilled the forthcoming reply with a soft kiss.
"Please?" he begged.

Malcolm deepened the kiss, holding the taller man close, hands
underneath the shirt and on the skin again. "Will I have you as
company?" he asked.

"You can bet yer skinny ass on it."

Mock outraged briefly chased away the exhaustion. "Skinny?!" Trip
laughed, pushing off the lieutenant's lap and pulling him up. Reed
willingly slid into the embrace and he grinned as he felt teasing
hands cup his buttocks.

"Perfect," Trip murmured, kissing the tip of his nose. "Just perfect.
And all mine."

"Possessive," Reed commented.

"Yeah, I'm a very possessive son of a bitch sometimes." The hug
tightened. "I hate sharin'."

"Who says you have to?"

Trip's eyes twinkled. "Well, right now I'm sharin' you with this damn'
ship, even though it's not even your shift. But I'm aimin' to change
that." He stepped back and looked at his lover. "You're out of
uniform, lewtennant," he drawled.

Malcolm laughed. "Look who's talking, commander."

Both men made themselves presentable again, but not without stealing
touches and kisses, which ended in Trip zipping up his lover's uniform
and pulling him close by the zipper in his hand, giving the already
thoroughly kissed mouth some more attention.

They left the armory and walked into the deserted corridor, not
touching, looking as close to regular as was possible. Malcolm's
quarters were the closest and when the door shut after the two men,
Reed leaned back into the strong arms coming around him. He closed his
eyes and sighed deeply, barely aware of the zipper being opened again.

"C'mon, let's get you undressed." Trip tugged at the uniform and Reed
chuckled.

"Eager, hm?"

An exposed shoulder was kissed. "Always." Another lazy kiss, then Trip
pushed his lover toward the bed. "But not tonight."

Malcolm made a noise of discontentment, but Tucker silenced him. "You
need to catch up on your beauty sleep, lover."

Reed played with the hem of his lover's shirt, fingers teasing over
skin. "Doesn't physical activity help you sleep?" he asked slyly.
Tucker laughed out loud, blue eyes dancing. "Yes, so it does, but you
are drop dead tired, despite puttin' up a good front. Don't want to
put all the work to nothin'. Later. . .  much later. . .  we'll see."

"I hold you to that."

"I always keep my promises," Trip whispered roughly, eyes gleaming
with said promise. "Still owe you for that night. . . "

Malcolm grinned mischievously, the memories of that particular
encounter chasing away the tiredness for a moment. It had been an
experiment. Keeping Trip at the edge as long as possible, controlling
himself along with his lover, recalling him from every imminent
climax. In the end, Trip had shamelessly begged and pleaded with his
lover to take him over the edge, and it had been the most intense
experience for both of them. Trip had vowed revenge.

Reed chuckled and obediently crawled into the bed. He shot the taller
man an inviting look. Trip smiled and slid in behind him, spooning up
against the warm and pliant but still very male form. He nuzzled the
skin around Malcolm's neck and shoulder, then whispered, "G'night,"
into one ear.

A mumble answered him as Reed snuggled back against him, needing the
closeness. Not much later, the armory officer had drifted off to
sleep. Trip smiled and finger-combed the dark hair. Mission
accomplished.

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The End