The BLTS Archive - One Red-Necked Hen
by Sue Christian (smc5597@waitrose.com)

---

Date: 6th June, 2003

Archive:  Permission granted to EntSTCommunity, MEGA, Our Perfect
Couple

Beta: The excellent Erin, many thanks.

Spoilers: None

Disclaimer:  They're not mine, alas.  They'd get a lot less work done
if they  were.  I'm getting no financial reward for this, just a lot
of pleasure.

Author's Notes: This is for Spot's 21st birthday challenge.  The
required  elements were; Tu/R, alcohol, pineapple-flavoured rum,
humour, pineapple lube,  NC-17

---

The system Enterprise was surveying had two Minshara-class planets. 
An  unusual occurrence in itself; that both planets supported separate
pre-warp  cultures was an added bonus and the science departments were
in their element.

Unfortunately this left the remainder of the crew with little or
nothing to  do.  A week into the survey and Enterprise's engines,
weapons and operational  systems had been stripped down, rebuilt,
tweaked, analysed and overhauled to  within an inch of their lives. 
There was nothing needed doing that hadn't  already been done.  The
danger of contaminating the indigenous cultures ruled out  shore
leave, and for the crew members who were not involved in the planetary
survey ennui was beginning to creep in.

It was Ensign Hoshi Sato who came up with the idea of a party; a
chance to  let their hair down and take the edge off their
restlessness.  But surprisingly  it was Lieutenant Malcolm Reed who
thought of an appropriate theme.

'Wednesday,' he announced to the self-appointed party-planning group. 
'We  should hold it next Wednesday.'

Sato and Travis Mayweather politely waited for him to explain.  Trip
Tucker  didn't.

'Wednesday!' he exclaimed.  'You can't hold a party on a Wednesday.'

'Why not?'

'Friday and Saturday, they're party nights.  But Wednesday?  What's
special  about a Wednesday?'

'*A* Wednesday, nothing, but *this* Wednesday has significance for
us.'

The other three just looked at him blankly.

'The 12th of April?'  Reed asked, waiting for the penny to drop with
his  audience.  Waiting in vain.  'The 12th April, 1961,' he
elaborated, to more blank  stares.  'Vostok 1, Yuri Gagarin, the first
Human in space, launched 12th  April, 1961, one hundred and ninety one
years ago.  Next Wednesday is Gagarin  Day.'

'Where?' Tucker demanded.  'I've never heard of Gagarin Day.'

'In Europe,' Reed said with exaggerated patience.  'Europe, where the
space  age began.  I would have thought even an American would know
that!'

'Brilliant,' Sato said, forestalling the argument she could see
brewing  between the bored, and therefore ratty, pair.  'Wednesday it
is.'

---

The Gagarin Day party had been a great success; even Commander Tucker
had to  admit that.  Sato and Mayweather had managed to decorate the
mess hall with  little rocket ships, and had even dug some photographs
of Gagarin and the  Russian rocket programme out of Enterprise's
computer.  And if Crewman Rostov was  the only person totally happy
with Chef's cauldron of borscht, the blinis and  caviar and the iced
vodka shots went down well with everyone.

Now it was getting late and things were beginning to wind down.  Most
of the  food was gone, the music had been turned down and those whom
Tucker described  as being 'less than completely dedicated to having a
good time' had retired to  their beds, but there were still a fair
number of revellers in the mess hall,  sitting in groups talking and
drinking.

One such group was the planning committee, who Sato now insisted on
calling  'mission control'.  Tucker, Sato, Mayweather and Reed sat at
a table by one of  the windows.  Captain Archer had been with them for
most of the evening, but  had just excused himself to go and check
with T'Pol before retiring to his bed.

Archer's leaving had disturbed the dynamic of the group and there were
signs  of it breaking up; Sato finished her drink and stretched,
Mayweather looked at  his watch.

Trip Tucker really did not want the evening to end.  He was sitting
next to  Malcolm, both of them with their backs to the window, and had
taken advantage  of the very relaxed atmosphere to get physically
closer to the other man.

Tucker wasn't sure exactly when his friendship with Enterprise's
reticent  armoury officer had turned into something more, but now he
was willing to admit,  to himself at any rate, that he was in love. 
There was absolutely nothing in  Malcolm's demeanour to lead Tucker to
believe that his feelings were  reciprocated, so the engineer was
reduced to grasping any opportunity that presented  itself to get
close to the object of his affections.  On-duty contact was fine  and
easy to arrange, though he was a bit worried that eventually someone
was  going to ask why the chief engineer had to answer every request
from the armoury  personally.  But off-duty contact was, or at least
could be, much, much  better.  This evening, for instance, he'd been
sitting next to Malcolm for four  hours, and under the cover of
increasing intoxication had managed to spend the  last thirty minutes
or so actually leaning against the armoury officer.  No way  was
Tucker prepared for this to end now.

'We could play a game,' he announced, reluctantly pulling himself
upright.

Alongside him Reed stretched surreptitiously, as if he'd been sitting
too  long in one position.

'A game?' Sato queried.

'Yeah.  You'll love it.  You'll be good at it.  A linguistic game,'
Tucker  explained.

'Sounds interesting,' she admitted.  'What do we have to do?'

'Well we need drinks for a start.  I'll get 'em.  You in, Travis,
Malcolm?'   Without waiting for their answers, Tucker made his way to
the dispenser and  ordered another round for the group.

'So,' Reed said, when Tucker returned with their glasses, 'what you
really  mean is a drinking game.'

'A linguistic drinking game, Malcolm.  There's words, an' the words
are  important.  You're gonna play, right?' he asked the three of
them, his best Porthos  begging for cheese expression on his face.

'Why not?' Reed said, finishing his drink and pulling the new glass
towards  him.  'I've always been good at this kind of thing.  I hope
there's a going to  be a prize, to make it worth our while.'

Tucker just grinned.  He knew what prize he'd like to give Malcolm,
win or  lose; he'd only suggested the game to keep the lieutenant here
anyway.

Sato and Mayweather allowed themselves to be persuaded, and the three
of them  looked expectantly to Tucker.

'Okay.  I'm going to say somethin' and you have to repeat it.  We go
round  the table clockwise, so Hoshi, you're first.  Understand?' 
They all nodded, so  he started the game.  'One red-necked hen.'

'One red-necked hen,' Sato parroted.

She and Tucker both looked at Mayweather, who looked back at them
blankly.

'You have to say it next, Travis,' Tucker explained.  'Just repeat
what she  said.'

'One red-necked hen'

'That's it.'  Tucker grinned at him.  'Now you, Malcolm.'

'Wait a minute.'  Reed held up a hand as if signalling for a
time-out.  'Do I  have to repeat what Travis said, or what you said? 
They could be different,  you know.'

'What I said.  You all have to repeat what I said.'

'And what happens if we don't?' Reed asked.

'If you get it wrong, you have to take a drink.  And since you didn't
repeat  what I said, take a drink.'

'That's not fair, I was checking the rules,' Reed protested.

'And now you know what they are.  Take a drink, and say the line.'

With rather bad grace, Reed did as instructed.

Tucker nodded.  'One red-necked hen and two cute ducks.'  He turned to
Sato.

'One red-necked hen and two cute ducks.' 

'Travis?'

'One red-necked hen, two cute ducks.'

'That's wrong!'  Reed jumped in before anyone else could speak.  'You
missed  the 'and' out.'

'Don't tell him what's wrong!' Tucker exclaimed, glaring at Reed. 
'Travis,  you have to take a drink and then say it again.'

The helmsman grinned at Reed, tipping his glass good naturedly in his
directing before taking a drink.  'One red-necked hen, *and* two cute
ducks.'

Tucker gave an exaggerated sigh and then turned towards Reed.

'One red-necked hen and two cute ducks,' the armoury officer said
easily,  aiming a sly smile in Tucker's direction.

Ignoring the butterflies in his stomach caused by Malcolm's smile
Tucker  started the next round. 'One red-necked hen and two cute
ducks. Three brown bears.'

It took some time to get through this round.  Hoshi had four attempts
before  Tucker was satisfied with her rendition.  Reed and Mayweather
spent the time  discussing what was going on at one of the other
tables and giggling at the  glares Tucker was aiming at them.   He was
convinced that neither of them was  paying attention, but when it was
their turn they each recited the lines  perfectly.

Tucker went on to the next round.  'One red-necked hen and two cute
ducks.   Three brown bears. Four running hares.'

'I haven't got a drink,' Sato announced.

'You may not need one,' Mayweather offered.

'Yes she does,' Reed said, 'she didn't say the line.  I'll get Hoshi a
drink.'  He picked up his own glass and walked over to the dispenser,
returning a  short while later with drinks for all of them.

'I didn't really need another,' Mayweather said.

'Too late now.  You can give it Hoshi,' Reed suggested.  'She's bound
to need  it soon.'

'Oh, ha bloody ha,' Sato said in her best British accent.  'It's your
turn.  You might be needing a drink yourself soon.'

Reed grinned at her, then turned to Tucker and repeated the lines
carefully,  but accurately.

'Okay, Hoshi, listen up.  One red-necked hen and two cute ducks. 
Three brown  bears.  Four running hares.  And five fat females sitting
sipping scotch.'

Hoshi managed it on her second attempt and turned to Travis.

'One red-necked hen and two cute ducks.  Three brown bears and four
running  hares. And five fat females sitting sipping scotch.'

This time Reed didn't say anything, but he did look expectantly at
Tucker,  while Sato giggled.

'What?' Travis demanded.  'What did I say wrong this time?'

''Take a drink, Travis, and say it again,' Tucker instructed.

'But I don't know what I said wrong.  You've got to tell me what was
wrong.'

'Just take a drink, and say it again.'

'Here, I'll say it again,' Hoshi offered.  'One red-pecked hen.  Oh
damn!'

'Take a drink,' they all chorused at her.

She did so then repeated the lines.  'And I hope you got that, because
I'm  not saying it again!'

'Ah!'   Travis beamed at her, then raising both his hands to aid his
concentration, he carefully recited what she had said.  He turned to
his left and  grinned.  'Your turn, Malcolm.'

Reed picked up his glass and took a drink.  'Thirsty,' he explained,
before  repeating the required phrases correctly.  He smirked at
Tucker.  'And the next  round is?'

Damn, he really is good at this, Tucker thought,before giving them the
next  line.

'One red-necked hen and two cute ducks.  Three brown bears.  Four
running  hares.  And five fat females sitting sipping scotch.  And six
chic sheiks sitting  slitting sheets.'

By now even Tucker needed to take care enunciating.  Reed, presumably
under  the influence of the four, or was it five, large pineapple rums
he had drunk,  had allowed himself to slip sideways in his chair until
he was now leaning  against Tucker's right shoulder.  To counteract
the heat generated by Reed's  proximity, Tucker had finished not only
the double scotch he'd fetched, but the one  Reed had provided too.

Predictably, considering how much they'd all had to drink throughout
the  evening, the game was degenerating into a laughing free-for-all. 
Sato vehemently  declared that she wanted nothing more to do with
'sheiks shitting sheets,' and  Mayweather just gave up after his fifth
or sixth unsuccessful attempt.  The  three of them looked at Reed, who
grinned before raising his glass to them in a  mock toast and taking a
sip.  He replaced his glass on the table, looked  Tucker straight in
the eye and, yet again, gave a careful but perfect recitation  of the
lines.  Sato and Mayweather applauded.  Tucker just rolled his eyes.

'So what's the next line,' Reed asked.

'I've got no idea.  The game's never got this far before.'

Reed smirked at him again.  'Does that mean I've won?' he asked. 
'What's my  prize?'

'Malcolm's won, and I'm going to bed,' Sato announced.  'I'm on duty
in the  morning and I need my beauty sleep.'

'Me too,' Mayweather said, getting, rather unsteadily, to his feet. 
'If I  don't hit the sack now Enterprise is going to be flying in
circles tomorrow.   It's all right for you department heads, able to
give yourselves the day off!   Come on, Hoshi, I'll walk you home.'

Deserted by their companions, Reed and Tucker sat in companionable
silence  for a minute or two before Tucker asked hopefully, 'D'ya want
another drink?'

'No, thanks.  I was thinking of bed.'  Tucker's butterflies fluttered
their  wings again at Reed's words.  He was gamely trying to ignore
them when Reed  turned to look at him and asked blandly, 'Unless
you've got any other games you'd  like to play?'

This was too much.  Reluctantly accepting that the night was at an
end, and  that he needed to remove himself from Malcolm's company
before he did or said  something he shouldn't, Tucker scrambled to his
feet.

'No.  No more games, Malcolm.  I think I'll head for my bed too.'

'I'll join you,' Reed smiled, causing Tucker's butterflies to start an
aerobatic display.  'Walk down with you, I mean.'

---

The journey to B deck didn't take very long.  They reached at the
junction  where they should have gone their separate ways, and neither
of them said  anything when Reed followed Tucker along the corridor to
his quarters.

Arriving at his door Tucker stopped and turned to Reed.

'So, I guess this is goodnight then,' he said, eyeing Reed doubtfully,
wondering what he was up to.

'Is that what you want?' Reed asked.

Tucker's butterflies started looping the loop again.  He swallowed
nervously.  'Wha'd'ya mean, Malcolm?'

Reed fixed him with a slightly unfocused gaze and a lopsided smile and
Tucker  felt his breathing rate increase involuntarily.  God damn, he
looks hot, he  thought.

'What I mean,' Reed said, 'is, do you want this to be goodnight, or
would you  like to...take things further?'

'Further?' Tucker squawked.

'Yes, further.  For instance, this far.'  Reed stepped towards Tucker,
who  automatically stepped back until he was against the door.  He
watched,  fascinated, as a rabbit is fascinated by a snake, as Reed
leaned forward and pressed  soft lips against his.

'Malcolm, you're drunk,' he managed to get out before Reed repeated
the kiss.

'I've been drinking.  There's a difference.'

'Oh,' was the only response Tucker could think of.

'If I were drunk,' Reed continued, standing in front of Tucker with
his hands  on the door, one either side of Tucker's head, 'I wouldn't
know what I was  doing.  But since I've only been drinking I know
exactly what I'm doing, and  what I hope to go on to do.'

Tucker heard himself give a little moan, but he gathered himself
together  enough to protest, 'Malcolm, I really don't think...'

'You don't have to think, Trip.  I can think for both of us, just like
I can  act for both of us, too.  I've seen the way you look at me; the
way you watch  me; the way you take every opportunity to get close to
me.  And, yes, I've  been drinking.'  He waved one hand briefly in
front of Tucker's face, dismissing  the engineer's half-formed
objection.  'Dutch courage.  I needed a few drinks  to get up the
nerve to do this.  But I'm not so drunk I don't know what I'm  doing,
Trip.'

'Malcolm...'

'Drunk enough to make the offer, but not too drunk to follow through. 
And  I'd say the same applied to you.  Am I right?'

Tucker gasped as Reed took one of his hands from the door and placed
it on  Tucker's crotch, rubbing firmly against his growing erection.

'I am right,' he said with a smirk.

'Okay, Malcolm,' Tucker said, with difficulty, 'I admit I'm attracted
to you,  that I want you, but you don't...you've never...'

'I do, and I am now.'  Reed kissed him again.  This time Reed's tongue
pushed  against his lips, demanding entrance and Tucker opened his
mouth, eagerly  sucking it in.  He felt the body pressing, grinding,
against his, and his arms of  their own volition wrapped themselves
round Reed's waist.

They parted, both breathing heavily, and Tucker made one last valiant
effort.  'Malcolm, are you sure?  No.'  He resisted Reed's efforts to
kiss him  again.  'I want this, have wanted it for a long time, but I
don't want just a  drunken fuck.  I don't want you to wake up and
regret this in the morning.'

'For the last time, Trip, I'm not drunk.  I want you, but I had to get
dr...to have a few drinks, to get up the courage to tell you.  Now are
we going to  bed or not?  Because if you turn me down now, there's no
way I'll ever do this  again.'

It was an ultimatum he couldn't resist.  He pulled Reed close to him
again  and into another kiss as he reached out with one hand and keyed
in his door  code, getting it right on only the second attempt.

Once inside his quarters, Tucker paused.  He'd imagined this moment so
many  times that he knew exactly what should happen; all the steps
were carefully  choreographed in his mind.  But in that version of
events Reed was under his  control.  Now he was actually here; living,
breathing, Reed, standing with his  hands on Tucker's shoulders and a
dopey smile on his face.  The choreographed  Reed had never had a
dopey smile, and Tucker found that he didn't know what to do  next. 
Fortunately it seemed that the real Reed did.

'Trip, I promise you I know what I'm doing.  I want this, truly.  You
want it  too, don't you?'

'God, yes, Malcolm.  For weeks, months.  You, in my arms, in my bed. 
Yes, I  want this.  If you're sure.'  Without waiting for an answer
Tucker crushed  Reed's lips against his own, forced his tongue into
the other man's welcoming  mouth and abandoned himself to his dream
come true.    While his mouth plundered Reed's, Tucker's hands were on
their own voyage of  discovery, dragging Reed's soft cotton shirt from
the waistband of his jeans.   He remembered thinking earlier in the
evening  how its colour brought out the  blue in Malcolm's eyes, but
now the garment was just an impediment keeping  him from his goal. 
His hands slid under the fabric and settled on hot flesh.   He let
them rest there for a moment, feeling the rise and fall, the
stretching  of the ribcage, as Malcolm breathed, and then he lifted
the garment higher and  bent his head to flick his tongue over one of
the exposed nipples.

Reed gasped and his hands, which had been tangled in Tucker's hair,
now  fumbled with his buttons, finally undoing enough to drag the
shirt off over his own  head.  He then set to work on the fastenings
of Tucker's gaudy garment, which  soon joined his own on the floor.

Tucker was sucking greedily on Reed's nipples and he moaned in
complaint as  they moved out of reach.  Reed slid down Tucker's body,
coming to rest on his  knees, his mouth level with Tucker's groin. 
Tucker watched as, with careful  intent, Reed took hold of the button
on Tucker's jeans and manoeuvred it through  its hole.  Then he
grasped the tag of the zip and slowly pulled it downwards,  over the
bulge in the denim. 

Tucker appreciated the care Reed was taking, but his impatience won
out and  thrusting his hands under the waistband of his briefs, he
pushed both them and  his jeans down onto his thighs.

Reed looked up, his expression hungry.  Tucker watched Reed looking at
his  cock, watched him lick his lips as he contemplated the erect
member bouncing  gently in front of his face.  He watched as Reed's
hands moved to Tucker's hips,  holding both men steady.  He heard the
soft, satisfied sigh that Reed exhaled  and the catch in his breath as
he inhaled again.  Then Reed's mouth was on his  cock, and, for a
moment, he stopped thinking entirely. 

Reed's hands and mouth worked Tucker's cock and balls; squeezing,
nibbling,  sucking, licking.  Tucker felt himself drowning in sensual
pleasure and, it was  with great effort, he dragged himself back from
the depths.

'Malcolm,' he gasped, using his hands in the other man's hair to still
the  movement of his head.  'You gotta stop that, or this is going to
be over before  it's begun.'  He grasped Reed's arms and helped him
back to his feet before  leaning in for another kiss, tasting himself
in Reed's mouth.

Using Reed for balance, Tucker finished pulling off his jeans and
briefs.   Then he towed Reed over to the bed and laid him down. 
Perched on the edge of  his bed, he ran reverent fingers over Reed's
torso before turning his attention  to his jeans.  He unfastened the
buttons and slid his hands inside, pausing in  surprise as he
encountered only hot, naked Malcolm under the denim.

'Confident, weren't you?' he teased.

'Ex-Eagle Scout,' Reed explained.  'I'm always prepared.'

'Well, well, so you are,' Tucker grinned, tugging the jeans down to
expose  Reed's erection.  'So tell me, Lieutenant, do you have a merit
badge for this?'

'I'm working on it.  Care to help me?'  Reed looked at him through his
dark  lashes and licked his lips.

'Mm, I think that could be arranged,' Tucker said as he stripped off
Reed's  jeans and tossed them aside.

He climbed on the bed and knelt next to Reed, sitting back on his
heels and  looking at him, a soft, secret smile on his lips. 

'What?' Reed asked.

'Just lookin' at you, Mal.  Just thinking; you, here in my bed. 
Savouring  the moment, sort of.'

Reed gave a small snort of laughter.  'Come over here.  I'll show you
'savour',' he said, wrapping a hand round the back of Tucker's neck
and pulling him  down.

Tucker let himself be pulled and flopped alongside Reed, throwing one
arm and  a leg across him.  He closed his eyes and just lay there,
basking in Reed's  presence, until he was poked in the ribs.

'I hope you're not falling asleep on me, Commander.'

''Commander's' awful formal, Mal, considerin' where your mouth's
been,'  Tucker said, without opening his eyes.

'Just reminding you of your duty, sir.'  Reed poked him in the ribs
again,  then his fingers fastened round one of Tucker's nipples and
gave a sharp tug.

'Ow!'  Tucker grasped Reed's wrist and pinned it to the bed while he
levered  himself upright.  He straddled Reed's legs, then took hold of
his other wrist  and pinned that to the pillow too.  He looked down at
Reed; naked, aroused,  grey eyes dilated with desire, hair ruffled and
spiked, and Tucker felt his  heart leap and his mouth dry suddenly. 
'Christ, Mal, you're gorgeous,' he  breathed, before leaning to take
one of Reed's nipples in his mouth.  He sucked on it  hungrily, then,
fastening his teeth lightly round the newly hardened flesh,  he
alternately nipped and laved as Reed writhed and moaned beneath him. 
At the  same time, he shifted his position, using his knee to push
Reed's legs apart,  settling himself between them.

Abandoning Reed's nipples, and releasing his wrists, Tucker used hands
and  tongue to trace a path down the slender body beneath him. 
Resting his hands on  Reed's hip bones, he used his tongue to
thoroughly explore his navel, before  finally acknowledging the hard
cock that was literally under his nose. 

He sniffed the smell of Reed's sex before taking an experimental
lick.  The  cock twitched under his tongue and he heard Reed inhale
sharply.  Tucker  rearranged himself, freeing a hand with which to
grasp the base of Reed's cock.   With his target thus steadied, he
began his assault.   The cockhead was shiny with precum, so he started
by lapping the bitter  fluid, lifting his head to catch Reed's eye as
he wetted his lips.  Malcolm was  watching him, breathing heavily, his
hands still resting besides his head on the  pillow, where Tucker had
placed them.

Returning to the task in hand, Tucker fastened his lips round Reed's
cock and  slid down its length, swallowing as much as was
comfortable.  He established  a rhythm; pulling up, swiping his tongue
round the head, then sucking the  shaft back into his mouth.  At the
same time his hand alternated between holding  firmly onto Reed's cock
and gently pulling and squeezing his balls. He let the hand trail
further, one finger flicking over the puckered ring of  Reed's anus,
unsure of just how far Malcolm wanted to take things.  The  heartfelt,
'Oh yes, Trip, please,' emboldened him, and, pausing only to
thoroughly  coat his finger with saliva, he pushed it carefully
inside.  Reed's hips bucked  as he strove for greater penetration, and
he cried out in disappointment as  Tucker pulled out and away.

'Hang on, babe,' Tucker muttered, leaning precariously to fish around
in a  drawer.  He settled back, holding the lubricant where the other
man could see  it.  'Don't want to hurt you.  Gotta do this right,' he
explained.

'Just do it, Trip,' Reed ordered.

Tucker laughed.  'You're mighty impatient, Lieutenant.

Reed moved his hands, threading his fingers through Tucker's hair and
dragging him in for a kiss, fierce and demanding.

'Get on with it, Commander,' he rasped, pushing Tucker back down his
body.

Tucker squeezed a generous dollop of lube in his palm and coated his
fingers.  The sweet smell of pineapple filled the air and he wondered
if Malcolm  noticed; if he realised that this was how Tucker fed his
fantasies.  He glanced at  Reed; saw the smile on his face, the
passion in his eyes and smiled back at  him as he slid a well-slicked
finger in his ass.  Soon it was two, then three  fingers, and Reed
thrusting up impatiently to meet them; Reed suddenly vocal,  urging
more, cursing Tucker, demanding to be fucked.

Satisfied that his lover was ready, Tucker quickly lubed his cock.  He
leaned  forward, capturing Reed's mouth, swallowing his disappointment
as the fingers  were removed from his ass.  He gave a last quick suck
on Reed's lower lip,  then positioned his cock against the prepared
hole and carefully pushed inside.

He tried to take it slowly, to make it good for Malcolm, but they were
both  too far gone for finesse.  Urged on by his lover's importunate
cursing, Tucker  found himself  pounding, hard and unrestrained.  He
caught hold of Reed's cock  in his still slick hand , pumping it in
time with his thrusts.  He felt the  warning tightening of his balls
and was just wondering if he could rein back,  wait for Malcolm, when
the other man came, cum escaping Tucker's fingers to  spray onto both
their bodies.  Reed's muscles contracted violently around  Tucker's
cock, sending him crashing into his own orgasm.

He collapsed on top of Reed, happy for the moment to lie panting in
the  sticky mess they'd created.  His cock softened and slid out. 
Reed gave a  disappointed moan, and Tucker kissed him, sucking gently
on his tongue, by way of  compensation.  Reed's arms wrapped around
Tucker, holding him tight against the  smaller man's heaving chest. 

Tucker lifted his head to plant a sloppy kiss on Reed's forehead. 
'You  okay?' he asked.

'Wonderful.  You?'

'Never better, Mal.  Never better.'

Tucker rolled off Reed and padded to the bathroom.  He cleaned himself
up  before returning with a towel and carefully wiping the mingled
sweat and cum off  Reed's body.  Tossing the towel to join the
confusion of their clothes on the  floor, he climbed back into bed,
pulling the blanket over both of them,  spooning in behind Reed, one
arm curled possessively round him.  They were both  asleep in moments.

---

Tucker woke reluctantly; he'd been dreaming that he had Malcolm's warm
body  pressed against his, but as consciousness returned he realised
that he was in  bed alone.  He rolled onto his back with a sigh,
belatedly registering that the  patch he'd rolled onto was warm, as
the bathroom door opened and Malcolm  walked out.

'Sorry, didn't mean to wake you, needed the loo,' Reed said, slipping
back  under the covers.  He lay on his side looking at Tucker.  'Good
morning.'

'Morning,' Tucker replied, uncertainly, turning onto his side to face
Reed.   'You okay?' he asked, repeating his question of the previous
night, but no  longer as sure of the answer.

Reed just quirked an eyebrow at him, his expression unreadable.

'No hangover, I mean, or...or...anything?'  he stammered.

'Regrets, you mean?' Reed said, his lips finally curving in a faint
smile.   'No, no regrets.  What about you?'

'No!  I was just worried, y'know.  We were both pretty drunk last
night.'

'I was not drunk.  I distinctly remember telling you that.  I'd been
drinking; there's a...'

'A difference,' Tucker finished for him, chuckling.  'Yeah, I remember
you  sayin'.  Just not sure I believe you.'

'Well, maybe I was drunk,' Reed conceded.  'But I'm sober now.'

He pushed Tucker onto his back and threw the blanket off, then
shimmied down  the bed until he was lying with his head by Tucker's
hips.  Fingers caressed  Tucker's inner thigh and his cock, already
semi-tumescent, signalled its  interest.  Reed pushed Tucker's legs
further apart and slid a hand up between them  to cradle his balls. 

'Oh my,' Reed said, propping himself on one elbow, 'what have we
here?  One  red-necked hen and two cute ducks.'  He flashed a wicked
grin at Tucker, as he  moved to lie between his legs.  'I won the
game, if you remember, and I think  it's time to claim my prize.'

---

The End