The BLTS Archive - Season V: Molded Out of Faults
by Bridget Cochran (bjcochran@aol.com)

---

© 1999

Seventh story in the Season V Series, which includes The Way of
All Flesh, A Friend in Need, A Friend in Deed, Pride's Cloak, The
Moon is Nothing and Conscious Betrayal. Major spoilers for The
Bride of Chaotica.

Disclaimer:  I own the ideas, Paramount owns the rest.

Archive at will, including ASC/EML, BLTs, R'Rain's and AllSlash.

Warning:  This story involves the evolving relationship between
two men that will eventually lead to consensual sex.  If a loving
relationship between two men offends you, move along home.

---

This time it was Chakotay who put Sandrine's on line.  The last
week had been a little dicey at best.  After the photonic beings
made contact with what they thought was another world, Planet X
turned into a war ground.  No one wanted to use the holodeck.
Tom even destroyed the Captain Proton program out of anger and
embarrassment.  Tuvok assured Chakotay that he had furtively
retained the program template.   For future reference.  If Ensign
Paris should ever required it.  Chakotay understood that Tuvok
was making reference to Tom's impulsive nature, and the regrets
that often went with such a nature.  Chakotay noted the gesture
with a small smile.

Tonight Chakotay sat with his cup of sweet, black coffee and
surveyed the crowd in the bar.  If this program had been running
when the visitors came, they probably would have made friends
with the photonic beings and missed the--the fun.  Janeway as
Araknia was golden.  What did Paris call her?  The Queen of Vamp?
Camp?  He didn't remember.  That twentieth century pop culture
stuff was pretty wasted on him.  But Janeway seemed intrigued and
invigorated.  She and Tom seemed to bury their differences in the
name of good, to triumph over evil.  Or something like that.

Destructo beams, lightening shields, death rays, ray guns.  Such
a bunch of kid stuff.  But it turned dangerous.  Very dangerous.
Tom was able to translate the problem out of the jargon of the
era and formulate a plan for the rescue of the photonic
creatures; and, subsequently, Voyager was rescued from the
subspace force that held it fast.

Tom to the rescue.  The pilot now basked in his renewed
self-worth at the pool table.  He had won one game from Harry and
was well on his way to wiping up the second.  It amazed Chakotay
how well the man adapted.  How he put the bad aside when there
was the smallest excuse to celebrate.  Not that this was a small
excuse.

But Tom was smiling again.  That big, bright, eyes glowing, full
mouth smile that had been missing for some time.  The thing was
almost too painful to watch.  Chakotay turned back to the bar to
signal Sandrine to refill the cup. He shared a look with the
woman, her smile saying much.  He could not help his lips up
turning.  Spirits, save him from perceptive holograms, he thought
as he watched her add the sugar and stir it for him.

He left the cup and saucer where she set it.  Staring at the
wisps of steams that rose and bloomed from the coffee, he let it
mesmerize him.  The rest of the room fell away from his mind.

He jumped a foot when the hand slapped him back.

"Two beers, Sandrine.  My tab."  Tom turned to look down at the
blinking Chakotay.  "I'm sorry, Chakotay.  Were you sleeping?"
The smile was too gorgeous.

Chakotay looked back at his coffee.  "Just thinking," he said.

Tom handed both the beers off to Harry as he slid onto the
barstool beside the commander.  "About what?"

A frown line creased Chakotay's brow.  "Nothing.  I was out of
it."  He hid his discomfort behind a sip of the coffee.  "Glad
replicators are back up."

"And toilets."

Chakotay smiled and nodded.  "Showers."

"Refreshers."

They sat in silence.  "I don't know about you, but I had a
blast," Tom said.

"I don't know if I'd call it a blast," Chakotay allowed.

But that didn't phase Tom.  "I guess not, you were stuck on the
bridge.  I'll tell ya, it was kind of wild and wooly for a
while."

Wild and wooly.  "I read the report."  Chakotay wished he had put
a little inflection in his voice.  It's flatness brought Tom's
head swinging around to examine his face.  Shit.

"What's the matter?"

"Tired."  Chakotay made an effort to smile, even worked his jaw
to bring out the dimples.

Tom wasn't buying.  He propped an arm on the bar and his head in
his hand. He'd wait.  Chakotay felt like he was getting a little
of his own medicine back as Tom waited silently.

Chakotay shrugged, and picked up his luke warm coffee.  "I had a
couple dozen systems to get back up and running," he began his
catalog only to be stopped by a gentle grip on his wrist.

The grip was removed when he set the cup down.

"Why did you call up Sandrine's?" Tom asked.  A shrug wasn't an
answer.

"Because I knew you'd be here."

He didn't see Tom's frown.  "Ok-ay.  You just need to ask the
computer to know where I am."

Chakotay's laugh came out as air through his nose as he shook his
head sadly. Tom didn't understand.  The pilot would be amused
when he did.  "Why didn't I think of that?"  Chakotay went to
push away from his stool.

Now Tom's frown was etching hard onto his face.  He stood, too,
his concern plain.  "Where are you going?"

"To meditate."  A lie, but plausible, nonetheless.

"But you started the program."  Tom's confusion was plain.

Chakotay wrinkled his face.  "I started it, so people would come
to the holodeck.  So they wouldn't be afraid of it after the
Chaotica ordeal."  It was a good excuse.

"You said you put it on because you knew I'd be here."

"You and everybody else."  Chakotay would have made his exit, but
Tom was blocking him.  The younger man looked down at Chakotay
with a frowning curiosity, but his stance was not threatening.
He shouldn't have said it. Shouldn't have indicated anything that
would take Tom away from his enjoyment of the evening and his
triumph in the Captain Proton program.  The younger man examined
Chakotay's face for a moment.  Chakotay wasn't sure what Tom was
looking for, but he was aware that he better not break eye
contact.  Then Tom would never let him go.

"Thanks," Tom said finally, stepping aside.  His eyes still
appraised Chakotay.  "I'll see you later then."

Chakotay nodded.  "Later."

"Um--," Tom hesitated enough that Chakotay turned back.
"Velocity, tomorrow at 1800 here?"

Chakotay nodded, letting a little of a real smile escape.  "Sure,
1800 hours."

Tom nodded, but his face looked troubled.  With a mental shrug,
Chakotay left the bar.

---

Quarters, sweet quarters.  Chakotay stripped out of his off duty
clothes to his shorts.  He picked up his medicine bundle.  Held
it in his hand.  Caressed the leather like it was an old friend.
And put it back on the shelf.

Moving into the day room, he called for music and a five degree
centigrade temperature drop.  Sighing he began to do push ups,
not counting, just pushing.  He hadn't handled Tom very well
tonight, but he was so unsure of himself.

Chakotay couldn't believe how adolescent and unsure of himself he
felt.  But when Tom and Harry had originally brought up the
problem on the holodeck, Chakotay had wanted to laugh at the
improbability of the situation.  It was highly improbable that
the evil Chaotica could wreak havoc on another race. Another real
race.

But then Tuvok and Tom returned from the simulation full of the
knowledge that the force that held Voyager stuck in space was
also the entity being damaged by Chaotica's Death Ray.

A smile accompanied the grimace of exertion as Chakotay continued
the grueling pace of his exercise.  Tom was so excited when he
devised the plan for retaking the holodeck.  Chakotay shared more
than one smile with Seven as the pilot let the Captain in on her
part of the plot.

The Captain was not hot on the idea to begin with, but Tom is
nothing if not charming.  When he saw her hesitation, he pressed
his advantage, appealed to her need to protect her ship.  He was
a revelation to watch.  He's very masterful when right is on his
side.  Chakotay wondered, not for the first time, what it must
have taken for Kathryn to refuse him on the Water Planet.

Chakotay fell to the floor exhausted, his arms and shoulders
burning from over exertion.  He felt around for his towel, then
buried his wet face in it.  And the looks she gave Captain Proton
were the looks she used to give Tom in the days before their
estrangement, before Tom was stripped of rank and sent to the
brig.  The fire in their eyes as she followed his orders for this
mission made Chakotay smile.

Even as it saddened him.  He took a final swipe at his face and
turned onto his back to begin crunches.  Tom had impressed
everyone with his solution in overcoming the holoprogram at its
own game.  Captain Proton to the rescue. Tuvok mentioned Tom's
little lapse on the holodeck, reducing the Commander to a
lieutenant.  "Other than his lapse into a Freudian condition, Mr.
Paris was most insightful and useful in his assistance."
Chakotay had laughed out loud at Tuvok's twist of phrase.  Then
Tuvok divulged that the Chaotica program had not been irrevocably
deleted.

So, Tom had won the captain and the commander over.  He was no
longer the pilot non gratis.  Harry had never discarded Tom.
B'Elanna had discarded him awhile back, but Chakotay could tell
that she was trying to salvage something with the Ensign.  Seven,
she looked at him with assessment.  Maybe even a burgeoning
admiration.  Shit, Chakotay hoped it was burgeoning admiration
and not interest.

Chakotay stopped crunching and just sat with his arms draped over
his knees, gasping.  He knew he was jealous.  That was obvious.
But he had no ties to Tom, they had made no promises.  Even made
sure that both knew that now wasn't the time to start anything.
Tom had gone through too much of an emotional roller coaster to
be involved too deeply in a relationship.

Maybe Chakotay was being too cautious.  Spirits knew that he was
not the best man to jump into a relationship with.  He had his
own prickly places.  He was not the luckiest in a relationship.
The women he chose were strong.  Often stronger than he was
himself.

Men had always been for casual sex.  A quick release of tension.
Men could do sex without strings, women generally wanted
something more.  Maybe that's why Kathryn never gave in; if she
did, she would feel a tug toward forever that she couldn't heed.

Sure.  Or she didn't want to sleep with him.  Chakotay dragged
the towel across the back of his neck as he shook his head in
self deprecation.

He frowned when the door chimed.

---

Tom was not sure what had brought him to Chakotay's door.  It's
just that the commander was acting a little off.  He didn't buy
the tired routine.  He seemed more tired the other night when
they were playing Velocity.  But Chakotay played like there was
no tomorrow.  And lost with admirable grace.  Too bad he couldn't
bet with the commander.  Bet he didn't spend ration credits
frivolously and had a stock pile.

Tom sighed. First Rule of Hustling:  you don't make a mark out of
senior staff.    Why wasn't Chakotay answering the door.  It slid
open before the thought was finished and he walked in to see
Chakotay getting off the floor, sweat gleaming on the dark body.
A dark body that stood in his soaking wet underwear.  He looked
as good as he did after their game the other night.  Probably
smelled as bad, too.

"Something wrong?"  Chakotay asked face clouding with concern.

Tom frowned.  'That's what I wanted to ask."

"I told you there was nothing wrong."  Chakotay turned to his
bedroom.

He left Tom scratching the back of his neck.  Tom watched him
poke at his bed pillow, then move toward his bathroom.  When that
door slid shut, he moved into the bedroom to examine its
contents.  The bed was made 'Fleet style, crisp and neat.  He sat
down on it.  Chakotay even put his pajamas under his pillow.  Now
that was cute.

Tom kicked off his loafers and reclined, bringing his hands up
under his head and crossing his legs at the ankle and sniggled
his butt into a comfortable position.  He took a deep breath.
Yeah.  This was good.

"What are you still doing here?"  came through the fog.

Tom blinked, his fingers went right to his clouded eyes.
"Sleeping?"

"In my bed,"  Chakotay  said.  Tom looked pretty stupid when he
woke up.  "Get up."

Chakotay turned away from him again, to leave the bedroom.  Tom
dragged himself out of his stupor and out of Chakotay's bed and
into the day room.  He landed on Chakotay's favorite chair, not
even aware of the look the commander threw him.

"You have your own quarters to nap in," Chakotay kept his tone
even, squeezing out the irritation he was beginning to feel.

Tom turned the chair to face Chakotay.  "I was under the
impression you wouldn't mind finding me sleeping in your bed."

Chakotay moved to his sofa to sit fully in the middle.  "I don't
want to have this conversation now."

"Oh?"  Tom couldn't keep the sarcasm from his voice.  "When will
we schedule it?"

"Tom."

"Chakotay."

Impasse.

Tom sighed.  "Look, Chakotay, there's something wrong and you're
not telling me what it is."  He had turned the chair to full view
of Chakotay.  "What did I do to piss you off this time?"

Chakotay shut his eyes and swallowed deeply. "You didn't do
anything, Tom," he sighed.  "I'm just feeling sorry for myself."

"Because?"

This was hard.  It was hard because Chakotay felt incredibly
stupid.  And childish.  Because you don't need me right now.
Because you have everything you lost back. Because I'm insecure.
"I'm not sure."

"Bullshit."  Tom said and was over on the couch beside Chakotay
so quickly that Chakotay only saw the younger man materializing
beside him.  "Tell me."

It was an effort not to cringe at the proximity, but Chakotay
managed to stay still.  "I want to give you room."

"Room to?"

Chakotay could feel the warm breath on his temple.  "Room to
enjoy yourself."

"I didn't know you were taking that room away from me."

"Tom," he began in frustration, "you need space to enjoy this
victory."

"What are you talking about?"  Tom's frustration was obvious,
too.

"I don't want to crowd you."

Tom's snort brought Chakotay's face around.  "Never stopped you
before."

"That was different," he defended.

"How?"   Incredulity and the frustration brought out that
gorgeous color.

"When you're angry or upset or--hurt, you bottle up your
feelings.  When you're happy you have lots of outlets."

"So, you withdraw when I'm happy."

Chakotay closed his eyes.  Bingo.  "It's not like that, Tom."

"Cut the bullshit, Chakotay.  That's exactly what you're doing,"
Tom said as he stood up from the couch to pace.  "Every day,
every week, for months now we've been doing this mating dance.
You approach, I withdraw.  I screw up and you're there for me.
Then we do it over again.  You approach, I bluff, you call it, I
withdraw."

He stopped striding and looked down at Chakotay.  "You treat me
like fine china that's going to break if handled with anything
but delicate fingers."

When the older man would have objected, he raised a hand.  "Okay,
maybe I would have broken.  But I'm getting better now.  I'm
finally back into the groove and you run away from me."

Tom stood in front of the man on the couch, hands on hips.  "Why
did you start up Sandrine's tonight?"  Chakotay opened his mouth
to answer.  "I want the truth, damn it."

"Because you would be there."  It was the truth.

"And?"

"And I could be there with you, without crowding you."

Tom's laugh was grating to Chakotay's ears.  "You've fucking
crowded me every step of the last four months and **now** you
don't want to crowd me.  What the hell is going on?"  The younger
man's body bounced forcefully onto the couch beside him.
Reflexively Chakotay moved away, his progress arrested by a grip
on his forearm. "You're not going anywhere."

Chakotay sagged, his nerves shot.  "I'm scared."  He didn't dare
look at Tom, he knew the look on the pilot's face would be
something to behold.  The grip on his forearm loosened into a
caress.

"Of me?"

"Of you.  Of my feelings."  Chakotay gave a negative shake of his
head.

"I don't understand."

"Tom, you don't need me.  I was there when you needed a friend to
talk to, but you don't need that right now."

"So, I don't need a friend anymore."

This was not going well.  Tom was getting pissed off.  Chakotay
wasn't being very clear.  "That's not what I meant.  I'll always
be here when you need a friend."

Tom was quiet for a long time.  Chakotay finally managed enough
nerve to look at him.  The irritation, no, anger, he saw on Tom's
face stilled him.  Tom looked levelly into his eyes.  "You are
something, Chakotay.  I'm only fit to be your friend when I'm
pathetic, is that it?"

"Tom--"

"Forget it, Chakotay, you're in for the long haul.  You're my
friend, fair weather or foul."  He paused.  "'Cause you're as
pathetic as I am."

Chakotay laid his head on the back of the couch, still watching
Tom, feeling worse, if that was at all possible.  Tom still had
his arm in a caressing grip.  Chakotay moved a hand to rest on
Tom's hand.  He wished he had words for what he felt.  He
swallowed and tried some.  "You're extremely important to me.
More important than you imagine."

Tom frowned.  "I have a pretty good imagination."

This was not going to be easy.  Chakotay's mouth became grim.

"Sorry," the younger man said.  "Go ahead."

"This is hard, Tom.  I don't do love well.  My feelings are my
own and I don't share them easily."

Chakotay could see the effort Tom was making to keep his mouth
shut, and allowed his mouth to soften.  "It's easy to see that my
feelings are stronger than yours."

Tom pinched him, hard.  Then disengaged and started the damn
pacing again. Shit, Chakotay thought as he watched in fascination
as Tom tore up the distance to the door and back again.

"How the hell do you know that your feelings are stronger?  Huh?
How?"  Tom loomed over Chakotay.  "This is the first god damned
time we ever talked about feelings.  Shit, all we ever do is talk
about it being too early to go to bed together.  You don't have a
fucking clue what feelings I might have toward you.  Jesus H.
Christ on a crutch." Tom whirled again and was marching toward
the door, but he had no desire to leave.

He was back at Chakotay's feet.  "Damn it.  You've been there for
me every damn step of the way.  I'm not talking about getting
demoted or that shit.  You've been beside me since--since I don't
know when--with all your damn quiet encouragement.  Your prodding
and sarcasm.  I'm not sure when I switched from buddy to a mating
prospect for you, but you have noticed that I haven't run away
screaming?  And now that I'm back to a better state of mind,
you're gonna fade into the background."  Tom's chest heaved in
frustration as the anger went out of him.  He dropped onto the
couch, a little farther away from Chakotay this time.  "We don't
know each other as well as we thought we did," he finished
softly.

Chakotay pulled at his ear.  "Guess not."  He held a palm out to
Tom as a peace offering.  Tom looked at it a minute before
grasping it, lacing his long fingers with the shorter  ones.  He
brought it up to his face but stopped short of kissing it.  He
let it go and scooted to the end of the couch.  He put his hand
back out as an invitation.

Chakotay looked at the hand, then up into the sincere face,
weighing the right and wrong of it.  Tom's expression was open,
almost beckoning.  Chakotay was not sure.

He decided to let the guard down this once, and moved into Tom's
embrace. Actually he backed into the younger man and let Tom's
arms circle his waist, and hold him tight.  They sat there,
together, silent, for a very long time. Chakotay laid his head
back on Tom's shoulder.  Tom rested his cheek against his ear,
the sound of  his breathing pleasant and steady.  Gently, Tom
lifted the hem of Chakotay's shirt to rest his hand on the hard
abdomen, sneaking his fingers to rest under the waist band of his
shorts.  And there it lay, comforting Chakotay with it's
familiarity and warmth. But going no further.

He turned his face to Tom's to nuzzle against the rough skin of
evening stubble.  He could feel the smile curve against his face;
he felt the sigh as it moved through the body beneath his back.
His own sigh was caught by the soft lips that met his mouth.  The
kiss was gentle and sweet, the searching warmth of a first kiss.
Breath and heart beats quickened as Chakotay turned his body into
the strong embrace.  Hands met shoulders, caressed muscle and
moved toward knowing.  When Chakotay opened his mouth to accept
the whole kiss, his erection pushed towards Tom's hand still
trapped between the two men.  Tom broke the kiss.

The smile on the flushed face was rueful.  A slight shake of
Tom's head brought another sigh from Chakotay who subsided into
the same position he was held in earlier, cradled in the pilot's
arms, held firmly against the strong chest and stomach by hands
no longer under his shirt.  He felt the erection at his tailbone
as he concentrated on returning his breathing to normal.  He
nestled further into the warmth.  This was good.

---

The End