The BLTS Archive - Jeffries by CKC (ceekaicee@yahoo.com) --- Okay, listsibs -- Here's my *first* C/P story. Ever. Yeah, yeah, I've written P/K, P/K/T, and some stuff for Sentinel, but *never* C/P. Anyhow, this is for the challenge. And Taffy -- one of your favorite movies gave me the inspiration for the title. Please don't tell Mysti that I've been playing in another sandbox. Usual disclaimer: Aw, bite me. I'll take comments and criticism. Not necessarily happily, but I'll take 'em. Don't archive, but you can share with like-minded friends. --- I crawled down the Jeffries tube, pausing every few seconds to listen for pursuers. Earlier, while I was still dodging scouting parties, I'd remembered that there was a small maintenance bay a few meters further along this tube, and I planned to hide there until this whole mess was over. It wasn't a very good plan, but it was the best I could think of under the circumstances. I mean, it wasn't like I could *do* anything right now. I'd have to wait 'til all the hubbub died down, and maybe then I could sneak out of my hiding place and figure out what could be done. If anything. So I kept crawling, even though my knees were bruised and bloody from that damn mesh flooring. I didn't even bother looking at my hands - they'd gotten banged up pretty badly before I'd managed to escape into the tube. I could tell from the way my fingers throbbed and the amount of blood on them that I wouldn't be much use at the helm right now. Hell, if I got out of this in one piece, I'd get the Doc to fix 'em up. If I didn't... Well, it wouldn't matter one way or the other at that point. I finally reached the maintenance bay - the panel was closed. Damn. I tried to key in a couple of over-rides, but it didn't budge. Shit. Now what? I pounded the panel in frustration, leaving a bloody smudge. The panel suddenly slid open. "Chakotay!" He reached out and grabbed my arm. "Shut up and get in here!" "Wait a second..." I scrubbed the blood off the panel easily. It was still wet. After all, I didn't want to advertise where we were. Then I squeezed into the bay next to Chakotay and he shut the door behind me. "Jeez, it's cramped in here." He didn't say anything, just gave me that patented calm stare and then slowly raised an eyebrow. With a sigh, he shifted and pressed back against the wall. "Two minds with but a single thought," I said as lightly as possible under the circumstances. "How long have you been in here?" "A few minutes. Do you know if anyone else managed to escape?" "No. I thought I saw Harry running away down by Sickbay, and I heard B'Elanna's voice as I got into the tube, but whether or not they've been captured..." I shrugged, trying not to think about that possibility. He sighed, then shifted again. "Well, we're stuck here until the search parties let up. Once they think they're in control of the ship, we'll see if we can get to the armaments lockers..." "How long?" Another sigh. "At least an hour. Maybe two." Shit. I squirmed a little, trying to straighten the material bunched under the small of my back. Then I had a look at my hands. "Spirits, Paris! What happened to you?" Chakotay grabbed both of my hands in his, examining them intently, turning them over, running his fingers gently over the scrapes... Oh? Oh. Oh, hell... I could hear my own breaths, the sound harsh in the tiny bay. I glanced up at his face. Eyes as dark and deep as the endless space surrounding the ship stared back at me... Then he blinked and looked back down at my hands. "We need to get those bandaged." "Yeah? With what?" I couldn't help but laugh as I looked at the two of us, clad in boxers, tee-shirts and robes, ready to hop into bed as the enemy boarded. Invasions happen at the worst times... I suppose I should be thankful I wasn't sleeping naked. Chakotay thought for a moment, then opened his robe, grabbed his shirt, and before I could do anything but gape at him, tore a strip from the bottom. Then another. He wrapped the soft cloth around my hands. "You should have used my shirt," I finally said. My eyes kept straying to the dark expanse of stomach revealed, sandwiched between the top of the boxers and the shredded tee-shirt. Dear gods, he was all smooth skin and rippling muscles. He finally seemed satisfied with his first-aid job and looked at me again. I thought for a moment that the ship had lost its inertial dampers - why else would I feel like everything was whirling around me? Then his hands crept up my arms and cupped around my face, and suddenly all movement stopped. My heart, my lungs, my brain, everything. Dead in the water. "Tom?" His voice was like the softest brush of heavy silk over my skin. I shivered once, and he moved closer. "Tom..." His arms moved around me, pulling me to him, and I clasped him, clumsy from the bandages. "Chakotay," I whispered, drawing out his name, allowing each syllable to fill my mouth before breathing it out. He quivered in my arms and closed his eyes. "Look at me..." I commanded quietly, and he opened them slowly. There's an old saying that the eyes are the windows to the soul. Well, I saw his soul right then, and what I saw both terrified and delighted me. "I had no idea..." I murmured, lightly caressing his strong back, his broad shoulders, his powerful arms. Every part of him felt good, every part of him cried out for attention. Attention I'd be happy to pay to each and every bit. Over and over. "You weren't supposed to find out," he replied softly, his face darkening. My heart was pounding and my mouth was dry. An embarrassed Chakotay laying in my arms... I took a deep breath. Oh, dear gods, give me strength... "Why not?" "Because I thought you and B'Elanna might have a chance..." "Why now?" "Because *I* might never have another chance..." Satisfied with his answer, I closed the space between us and kissed him lightly, lips brushing lips. His were soft and warm, delicious. I paused and breathed in the scent of him - earth and sky and water and fire combined into the solid, bronzed, definitely aroused man next to me. I kissed him again, this time pressing our lips together, feeling our flesh reshape itself to fit the other. Another pause, this time to let my tongue trace the tattoo that I'd always found so intriguing. He tasted like he smelled, as if he'd come from a day in the forest. Not at all like he'd spent the last two months shut up in a ship. I moved down his face, picking out the high cheekbones, the strong nose, the dimpled chin, the emphatic jaw... "C'mere..." he rasped, and pulled me back up to face him. Before I could say anything, hell, before I even had a chance to look at him, he'd claimed my mouth in a kiss so intense that I was ready to come right there and then. It only lasted a couple of seconds. He tore himself away and just stared at me, panting. His expression was a mixture of desire, fear, and tenderness, and told me everything I wanted or needed to know. "And you?" he demanded. "Have you ever thought about us?" I nodded, my mouth working soundlessly. Something had happened to my throat. I was shocked -- no one had *ever* reduced me to silence before. Chakotay smiled, a dangerous, feral, *wicked* smile. Oh... "What were we doing in these thoughts of yours?" He moved until he half covered me, then dived down for another searing kiss. "Were we doing that?" I nodded. Yeah, we'd done that. "How about this?" His hands gentle, in contrast to that smile, he parted my robe and slid my tee-shirt up. Fingers and palms caressed and teased me, made my chest feel like it was on fire. Then he added his tongue, and I moaned. I couldn't help it. Really. It was as if he knew where every nerve was and exactly what to do to make it transmit the maximum amount of pleasure. I tried to caress him back, but the bandages made me clumsy, and after a few minutes, he grabbed my hands gently and held them down next to my hips. "Don't. Let me. You can do this when you're healed..." he murmured, then dove back down for more. I was seriously in danger of exploding by the time he finished with my chest and came back up for a kiss. He must have seen it in my face, because our kiss was tender and soft, and he stroked my arms gently, calming me. Once I knew I wouldn't burst on the spot, I think I managed to smile and thank him, but I'm not absolutely sure if I said it or just thought it. Either way, he understood. He opened my robe completely, his hands sliding up my thighs and over my boxers. He grinned at the sight of my erection. Well, it *was* pretty obvious - a massive spike in the middle of a flat-line graph. He straddled me and started to rub himself against my groin. I whimpered. Yeah, I know it's not considered good form to whimper during love- making, but I couldn't help it. Here was Chakotay, every man and woman's (and some being's) walking wet-dream, straddling me, for gods' sake, whispering my name and nibbling me like I was the last leg of fried chicken at the family reunion. You'd whimper, too. This went on for a while. I'm not sure how long, because my brain went off-line - all the blood was needed further down, so my brain just curled up in a corner and fell asleep. Eventually, he must've realized that the lights were on, but Tom was taking a siesta, and he stopped moving. The lack of sensation finally penetrated my poor lust-fogged brain, and I looked up at him, puzzled. "You still with the program, Paris?" He smiled again - that *dangerous* smile, and my knees grew weak. Good thing I was already sprawled on my back, otherwise someone could have gotten hurt. I did manage a nod, which seemed to reassure him, because he shifted over to kneel at my side, and carefully (thank the gods) tugged my boxers down. I gasped as the cool air hit all that hot flesh, and again when his warm breath heated things back up again. "Wait," I croaked, momentarily proud of the fact that an actual word emerged from my mouth, and, mindful of my bandaged hands, gingerly maneuvered his boxers off. Hellooo, sailor. I pulled him down over me. After all, I was already on my back, and things had progressed too far to bother with changing position. This time. Next time, however, I was going to cover that firm body with my own... I kissed him, concentrating on giving pleasure more than receiving it, although I received more than my fair share. As we kissed, we rubbed against each other. The silky feel of his smooth chest and stomach, the brush of his breath against my cheek, the firm touch of his fingers, all merged into a whirl of sensations - maddening and arousing. When he shifted his hips and our erections touched, we groaned into each other's mouths and jerked as if an electric current ran between us. Nothing had prepared me for this - nothing *could* prepare me for the power and intensity of this moment. We slid against each other, bucking and writhing, anything to increase the friction, the sensation of *connectedness.* I cupped my hands over his ass, pulling him as close as possible, desperate to touch every part of him. Gods, his ass felt so good... hard and soft and smooth... I wanted hours to explore every centimeter. But not now. Now I needed... Yes... Wanted... Yes... Hot, cold, dark, soft... Move... More. There... Fingers tightened on my arms, lips pressed into mine, warmth covered me, filled me, coaxed me... Brilliance! Eyeball-searing, flesh-crisping, lung-burning brilliance, dissolving slowly into blackness... I came to gradually, Chakotay's limp bulk pressing against me in several tender places. I kissed him, but he didn't respond - he just murmured softly and sighed once. So I rolled him over and off me, trying to do it as gently and carefully as I could. Not an easy task when you're feeling limp yourself, are working with bandaged hands, and are trying to maneuver a bulky guy inside a glorified coat closet. I did manage it without banging him around much, and then turned on my side to watch him. Chakotay. The Commander. Old enemy. Recent friend. New lover? I traced his lips with my fingertip. Such soft lips in such a sculpted face. Suddenly he kissed my finger, then nibbled it, a smile breaking out like the sun on a rainy day. His eyes danced, and promised things I'd never dreamed of. Promises I could return, and did. He stroked my cheek once, then glanced down my body and laughed. I followed his glance, smiling as I saw the messy evidence of our activity. I looked over at him, the same evidence glistening on his stomach and chest. With a shrug, he pulled off his ruined tee-shirt and wiped us both clean, then snaked an arm beneath my head and held me close. It felt so good, being held by him, even though the deck was hard, the quarters cramped, and who knew what was happening on board the rest of the ship. The ship... "I hate to bring it up, but when do you think we should try to get to the armaments lockers?" Chakotay sighed. "Let's wait another ten minutes..." "Good. I need to get my strength back before kicking some butt..." We were in the middle of a kiss - a really, *really* good kiss - when the all hands hail sounded, and the Captain's voice filled the ship. "Attention all hands. The invasion exercise is complete. The Green team, repeat, the Green team, won control of Voyager in one hour, twenty-three minutes. All hands may return to quarters. And thank you all for a successful exercise." "Well, since we're on the Red team and we lost, I suppose we should be upset." *I* wasn't upset, but I wasn't sure how Chakotay would react to the news, especially since we'd never managed to make it out of the Jeffries tube. "Perhaps I would be, but as the Captain said, it *was* a successful exercise." His eyes twinkled. "You're right, Commander. *Definitely* a successful exercise." Chakotay turned and kissed me again. Yes, there was no doubt -- a *very* successful exercise... --- The End