The BLTS Archive- Monsoon
by Jimaine (Imm5000@t-online.de)

---

Archive: entslash, sure!

Feedback: yeah...thank you kindly!

Disclaimer: Paramount owns 'em, I just give them some time off. And
no, I don't get paid one lousy Euro for my time.

Author's note: It was hot all week, every movement a f***ing effort,
and yesterday, just as a light rain began to fall, I took my bike to
head for the post-office, deciding that it would be refreshing...boy,
was I wrong, *g*. Five minutes later, I longed for four-wheel drive!
Still, it was quite refreshing and got some mental gears working and
fortunately none of the people driving by thought it too odd that I
was standing in the street, humming, "Oh, how I wish it would rain
down on me"

I recalled having made a few notes a while ago and coming home and
dripping all over the carpet was sufficient motivation to finally put
them to use! The internet is a wonderful place ­ I now know more about
Malaysia than I ever wanted to know, but it's useful. As is Arcnet
Instant Text Translation (I'm trilingual plus a little Spanish,
Gaelic, Basque and Malti, but Malay was never my top priority...)

The phrases Reed is using at the end translate as Saya mencintai anda
- I love you Saya mahu anda tahu bahawa anda adalah cinta jantung
saya, hidup saya, selama-lamanya sebahagian saya - I want you to know
that you are the love of my heart, my life, forever a part of me...

This German hasn't written English fic in a while, so she humbly begs
your forgiveness for everything she screwed up. ­ Thanks to Kim for
beta-services!

---

Fretting with his useless communicator, Captain Jonathan Archer pulled
his cap deeper into his face, regardless of the fact that it entirely
failed to divert the heavy rain, and cast an anxious glance over his
shoulder at the two crewmembers working on the portable amplifier
unit.

"Any progress with the com?" He stepped back from the gate and
approached them, wiping water from his face. The light from the lamps
they had set up in the antechamber and along the length of the main
corridor threw his worried face into sharp relief, his shadow one of
many dancing on the walls.

"Not since the last time you asked", T'Pol replied evenly, apparently
unperturbed by the edge in the captain's voice. She continued her
work, her hands moving swiftly. The exchange with Hoshi at her side
was kept at a minimum for this was a matter of urgency.

They had stumbled across this planet three days ago, sent down half a
dozen probes, and after twenty-four hours of analyzing the data, a
landing party had been assembled. What they had discovered had
exceeded their expectations, for upon closer inspection, the lush
rainforests hid the remains of a long-dead civilization. According to
the probes ­ and T'Pol ­ it had thrived here until approximately
10,000 years ago when some genetic disaster had reduced the population
to a non-sustainable level.

Biosciences had, in the truest sense of the word, a field day,
perusing the jungle and collecting bugs and plant specimens for later
study. And while Hoshi got busy with the writings, aided by
anthropologists who documented every object and square inch inside the
temple-like structure, the engineering department poured over the
amazingly advanced technology. Nothing they could use, at least not at
first glance, but further studies might yield a surprise or two.
Beneath the group of buildings, a network of subterranean tunnels on
seven levels extended for miles in every direction, interspersed with
chambers ten times the size of Engineering. These held power
generators that might, once upon a time, have provided power, heat,
warmth and food for millions; the details still had to be calculated.

But that wasn't part of the current problem.

Given the local weather conditions, they were under orders to report
back to base-camp before 1600 hours, and by 1550, all teams had
checked in. Now the time was 1715, and Commander Tucker and Lieutenant
Reed were still missing.

---

The rain was falling so densely that it looked as if a curtain had
been drawn on the giant hollowed corpse of a fallen tree in which they
had taken cover.

"It's mainly your fault", the dark-haired man sitting closer to the
entrance stated, every syllable clearly enunciated in an effort to
drive his point home. "You were the one insisting that we stay, quote,
'Jus' another second, Mal, gimme jus' one more second', unquote, to
scan the secondary systems as well. You", he said with emphasis, "were
so lost in the study of that bloody power distribution grid that you
paid no attention to time ­ and brushed aside my reminders that
monsoon rains usually are as regular as clockwork."

"Right. When did *you* become all the weather-expert? You're blamin'
me for this now, aren't ya?"

"No, merely endeavoring to elucidate the negligible necessity of
investigating that remote power relay station in the first placeŠ"

"If you are ­ an' I know that you are ­ then do me a favor an' do it
in plain and simple *English*! Not this Brit-speak!"

"Are we, by any chance, feeling a bit under the weather?"

"You *are* tryin' t' blame me! When in doubt, go an' blame Trip
Tucker!"

"Not at all, I'm simply being observant."

"Yeah, like hell you are!"

"It is part of the job-description."

"Sure it is. Ya got that look..." He fell silent, abruptly ending the
heated exchange. This wasn't helping.

Reed raised an inquisitive eyebrow, managing to keep the rest of his
face impassive. A perfect imitation of T'Pol that ­ as he well knew ­
pushed all of Trip Tucker's buttons at once.

"Then why did ya tag along?"

"Providing security for the irreplaceable chief engineer. Or simply
for lack of something better to do."

Tucker laughed and his mood lightened marginally. As if there was
*ever* anything like Malcolm Reed lacking something to do! That man
lived and breathed his job, and he'd accepted that. There was no other
way to love the enigma that was Malcolm; you either took the whole
package, all-inclusive, or nothing at all. The difficult aspects you
simply had to deal with. And, after six months, he still was
dealing... as Malcolm undoubtedly did as well with some of *his*
less-than-admirable traits, therefore he assumed it was just fair. He
wouldn't miss any of it, not even the occasional rough patch. Malcolm
was worth it, a challenge.

To be honest with himself, it was precisely those darker sides of
Malcolm Reed's complex persona that intrigued him most, the unique
amalgam of danger and vulnerability that he sensed in every kiss they
shared. The man could be a cool professional at one moment and a
tender lover the next, like a switch had been thrown. Or a merciless
tease, like now. Some of Malcolm's moods he couldn't begin to explain,
nor would he dare try. He would find out in due
time...maybe...hopefully.

There were times when they couldn't be any closer physically, but
still he would sense a distance between them that defied description.
Not now, however. Malcolm Reed's eyes held a dark glow as they huddled
in this dismal place in the middle of nowhere, a look he had seen
before. That man was taking some kind of perverse pleasure in his
discomfort, that much was obvious.

"It's just rain, Trip", Reed tried to appease him.

"Rain, yeah. Rain! Jus' as bad as heat an' sand. *Sand*", he muttered
darkly. "Ah really don' know how Ah get myself into these situations
time an' again. We're stuck here in a rottin' tree, totally
drenched..."

"It's *water*, Trip." Another futile attempt. "It's not that bad."

Tucker fixed him with a murderous glare. "Don' tell me you *like* this
kinda weather!" he growled, running his fingers through his hair. As
if that would improve anything. He was a mess. This *place* was a
mess...muddy, water dripping in through cracks in the wood, and on top
of it all a fair number of exotic bugs crawling on the walls. He could
*swear* that some had gotten into his uniform already.

Shuddering, he covered his neck with both hands. _Think happy
thoughts! Think hot showers, soap, clean, dry towels and a comfortable
bed_, he told himself. _Happy thoughts..._

Malcolm Reed's answering smile effectively torpedoed that intention.
For an armory officer, his smile could be far too *dis*arming at
times.

"As a matter of fact, yes, I happen to like it very much indeed", the
Englishman admitted, making a show of examining his fingernails. "I
had hoped to keep it secret a while longer, but you found me out! My
darkest secret finally revealed. I await my punishment." _Nothing like
needling Charles Tucker III when he can't run from it!_

The look his lover shot at him easily translated as suspecting him of
borderline insanity. "Well, Ah don't like it! It's rain! An' way too
much of it! Ah'm soaked, Ah'm cold..." There was water squishing in
his boots, his skin itched under the wet clothing, and he fought the
impulse to sulk like a three-year-old. _Sensin' some serious
crankiness settin' in...warned you about that!_ His thickening accent
was a sure indicator of that. "Ah thought ya Brits only liked the
desert...like the guy in that movie Jon's been tellin' me about..."

That drew out a soft chuckle. "This Brit has no ambitions of becoming
'Reed of Arabia', rest assured."

"Ah'm so relieved." Trip didn't sound relieved. Not in the least.
"This ain't exactly mah idea of a cozy getaway with ya."

Malcolm's gray eyes acquired a mischievous glint at this turn of the
conversation. "So?" he asked expectantly, crossing his arms in front
of his chest. "It was some quality time you were hoping for? Was that
the reason you insisted on coming all the way out here? Endured a
ten-mile hike through an alien jungle with snakes and insects as large
as my hand."

"The correspondin' access-tunnel's blocked. Had t' get there
aboveground."

"Don't change the subject!"

Shifting his position so that his wet clothes wouldn't stick in the
places where it was most uncomfortable, Trip frowned and let out the
breath he had been holding. "Yeah...sorta..." He managed a miserable
shrug. "Guess mah plan really backfired."

A slender hand toyed with the communicator. "Indeed. Doesn't mean that
I don't appreciate the thought, though. It might have worked out if we
had left when I suggested it."

"Give it a rest, please."

But Reed continued, "We could be back at camp...have a nice cup of
tea...have Travis tell us some nice ghost-stories about how the people
of this planet met their doom...and then crawl into a nice dry
sleeping-bag for some nice..." He let his voice trail off
suggestively.

It had the desired effect. Tucker grimaced once more, then forced
himself to return the smile albeit it on the weak side. "Yeah. Well,
at least part of the plan worked; we're in this together..."

With a flick of the wrist, Reed opened the communicator. "Should we
try contacting base-camp again?"

"Nah." The engineer hung his head, brushing back wet blond strands of
hair as he looked up again at his companion. "No use in this weather.
Somethin' in the atmosphere interferin' with transmission...screwin'
up the frequencies. Hoshi warned us 'bout that...part of the reason
why our daily exploits got a time-limit. ­ Ya're *truly* enjoyin'
yourself, right?"

"Sure I am. Feels like home", Reed replied cheerfully, oblivious to
his soiled uniform and the nature of their accommodation.

A frown warped Tucker's features, like his uniform mottled with dirty
brown and green. He had taken several falls on their way here,
repeatedly slipping on the sodden trail and tripping over roots and
fallen branches. Unlike Malcolm who had moved along with the
sure-footedness of a mule. The only dirt on the lieutenant's uniform
came from helping him back up every few hundred yards.

"Sorry t' burst your bubble o' fantasy here, Mal, but this don' look
anythin' like England t' me." Then he paused. "Wait...this another
Malaysia thing, right?

The armory officer shrugged. "I lived there for fourteen years, Trip.
Never would have left if the choice had been mine to make. England was
a permanent dry spell in comparison." _And cold..._ How he had hated
the cold! The low temperatures had been worst, the food and the people
ranking second and third.

Trip just snorted disdainfully. "Ya're a real romantic, love."

"One of us has to be. Imagine this...stifling heat, humidity's high,
air that you could cut with a knife, thick and heavy, sticking to your
sweaty skin like syrup... And then comes the afternoon rain during
monsoon season to wash it all away", he told his colleague and lover
with a wistful smile.

England had never become the home for him that Malaysia had been, and
it had taken him a long time to adjust to that new life. Eventually,
he had managed, owing to the efforts of various teachers and his
parents, and he still managed quite well, but the country of his
childhood maintained a hold on him that nothing could break. Their
current situation gave him an idea. Maybe it was time to find out how
much Trip *really* hated the rain!

"Tell ya what, Mal, 'round here it's simply *wet*. An' hot. An' ­" He
broke off, not trusting his eyes. "Malcolm, ya come right back here!
Mal!" Before he could stop him, the other man stood and slipped from
their hideaway, out into the deluge.

Swearing softly under his breath, he briefly considered letting Reed
go and stay put. Be stubborn. He wouldn't let himself be goaded into
*this* one! _Of all the half-assed ideas a man can get... This place
was far from dry and anything but comfortable, yet preferable over the
flood outside.

With another sigh, he squinted into the twilight, hesitating, unable
to make out anything beyond the liquid curtain washing down on this
alien jungle. No movement. Where the hell was Malcolm? "Malcolm", he
yelled, "get your ass back in here!"

The sound of rain against wood was deafening, but the faint words came
through. "You get yours out here, Commander!"

"Don' make me pull rank on ya, Lieutenant!"

Reed's voice filtered back through to him. "I dare you!"

_Damn your skinny British ass to whatever place you think of as hell!_
"Oh, come on, please, darlin'..., he pleaded with Malcolm, praying
that the other man would retrieve a shred of common sense and return.
No way he would go out there, he would sit this out! Suffer in silence
and retain some dignity. So far, not much success there, either.

Furiously, he pounded his thigh with his fist, muttering, "Fuck..."
Should he follow...or shouldn't he? Well, if he did, then only to drag
Malcolm back by the scruff of his neck.

Suddenly, said wayward lieutenant reentered visual range, a blurred
silhouette in the rain. "I dare you", he repeated, voice changing to
the seductive. Just those three words. "I dare you." With that, he
vanished again, leaving Trip with no choice but one.

Why he did it, he didn't know, nor would he ever ask himself that
question.

Answering the siren call, he rose and moved out slowly into the
clearing where he was met by Malcolm, the other man keeping his
distance of a few meters. Waiting. Gazing at him with eyes the color
of the sky above. Simply irresistible. Trip involuntarily held his
breath. What was he saying...?

"The monsoon..." Could he make him understand? "It's beyond
discomfort. It's about *being* the monsoon, living it... The
electricity in the air, warm rain on your skin...like the caress of a
dozen hands, of nature itself." Not a gentle caress, though, this was
the firm, deft touch of a lover who knew what he wanted. Turning back
to Trip, he smiled.

It was a radiant smile like Trip had never seen in his lover, an
expression of utter joy and bliss. Malcolm's eyes drifted shut, his
face turning up into the rain, and it was that sight that made his
throat constrict rather painfully. _Beautiful..._ Raw emotion welled
up from the pit of his stomach to close like an iron fist around his
heart and squeeze it until every beat hurt. Hurt with love for this
man.

For a while, he simply stood and watched as Malcolm remained lost in
the privacy of whatever memory he was reliving. His arms were raised
to the sky as if to embrace the divine power responsible for this.

And Trip would have gladly thrown in his two cents of gratitude, for
seeing Malcolm Reed like this... There were no words in the human
language adequate to describe the powerful sensuality of this moment,
and probably not in any other known language, either. He was drawn to
him, moving in closer. For some reason the water pelting his face and
scalp had become tolerable.

"Malcolm", he asked plaintively, "what am Ah doin' out here?" He
wasn't truly prepared for the answer when it came, but when it did, he
found that he wasn't too inclined to object.

"Kiss me", Reed breathed, grabbing two handfuls of Tucker's uniform
and pulling him close, his back up against the nearest tree. "Come on,
Commander...live a little."

The kiss was gentle and serious and sweet.

Tucker's head was spinning now, a low vibration taking over his entire
body, a steady hum along every nerve and muscle. This was probably the
most outrageous thing anyone had ever suggested, yet he found himself
willing to follow Malcolm's lead. "Gawd", he drawled. "Ah don' know
how ya get me t' do this...this is crazy..."

"Remember what I told you the first time we made love in the shower?"

"There were words involved?" That remark earned him a sharp nip to his
lower lip. "Ouch."

"Just making sure that you're listening *now*." Another little bite
immediately followed by a soothing tongue. "Explain yourself."

"Mah mind tends t'go somewhat blank after the first kiss or so..."

"Ah." Malcolm lapped off the water pooling on his lover's upper lip,
then slipped his tongue back into the heat of the waiting mouth.
"Well, sir, let me jog your memory. I told you that there were better
things than making love in the shower. Wayyyy better things."

Trip let out a low moan, more like a purr, when long, dexterous
fingers combed through his hair, cleaning the dirt from his face.
"Lemme guess...this is one of 'em?"

"Precisely. You like?"

"Uh-huh." He captured the wet lips with his own, not letting go for a
long, long time. Not until oxygen became an issue.

"Make it like the first time", Malcolm whispered, his voice drowning
in the rushing sound of the rain in the trees. He had never told his
lover the story, now he simply had to. Trip Tucker's love had been a
gift he never would have expected, the one thing that made his present
life complete. Which was why he owed him this. The best moment of a
past he rarely talked about.

Quickly losing his grip on reality, Trip nevertheless caught the words
and their meaning. _The first time...?_

Suddenly the rain became a secondary nuisance, less of a bother and
more of a sensual enhancement for the intense arousal sweeping over
him. The engineer's arms found their own way around the familiar body
and his eyes closed in willing surrender, mouth seeking Malcolm's
again. Kissing deep. As always, the tongue inside his mouth was a
touch he felt with all of his body, heard himself moan and
instinctively tightened the embrace. Finally, as he started to get
light-headed, he drew back a little and looked at Malcolm calmly.
Softly, faces only inches apart, he asked, "In Malaysia?" His hands
were already busy divesting Malcolm of his uniform, taking advantage
of the fact that he had him more or less immobilized.

The armory officer made an acquiescent sound at the back of his
throat. "I didn't simply love the country...I was also loved there for
the first time. Like this. In the middle of the monsoon." He wanted to
share this with Trip, have his lover feel what he had experienced so
long ago. Willingly, he let himself be stripped, neither of them
considering future difficulties with putting their clothes back on.
Right now, he only needed to feel the rain and his lover. As soon and
as intensely as possible. The feel of the soggy carpet of wet leaves
under his bare feet was electrifying and he stretched sinuously
against the taller man holding him, pressing their groins together.

The effect was instantaneous. Sadly, though, the engineer still was
fully clothed. Ridding him of that uniform, no matter how enticingly
it clung to his gorgeous body, accentuating every bulge and curve,
became Malcolm's chief concern.

"It's been a while, but I remember. I'd just turned fifteen...and then
there was that first kiss", his fingertips feathered along Trip's
lips, tracing the curve of the gentle smile, "in the rain. The hands
on my body...first touch, each drop of rain on the outside of my skin
drawing a flame to flicker on the inside...true pleasure for the first
time."

A captive in the depths of his lover's eyes, a dark navy with the
intensity of his growing need, he lifted one of the massaging hands
off his hips and raised it to his mouth. "His name was Colin, my best
friend at that time, four years older than me. A local..."

Gently, he kissed the palm of the hand he held, proceeding to suck on
each finger in turn while using his other hand to open the zipper of
Trip's uniform overall; the other man barely noticed how nimble
fingers started to undress him ­ he was too absorbed in the sensation
of the tongue playing around his middle finger and listening to
Malcolm's words.

"Quite attractive, too. It...simply happened."

In a joined effort of both their right hands, they succeeded in
pulling the uniform off Tucker's shoulders followed by the shirt. Wet
fabric was peeled off his skin and dropped into a clump of fern-
bushes, leaving him naked to the waist down. And Malcolm, dropping
Trip's hand, didn't waste time before pushing the uniform farther down
his hips along with the tightness of the blue boxers, exposing as much
of the lightly tanned body as he could in his present position.

At some point, there was nothing left to be torn off and thrown aside.
Skin met skin, rubbing, sliding, their bodies yearning into contact at
every point they could. "As I said...it simply happened..." He
interrupted himself for a sharp gasp when a firm hand closed around
his hard cock, and then carried on somewhat breathlessly, "...on the
spur of the moment..."

Nibbling on Malcolm's shoulder, Trip felt urged to inquire, "Just like
now, huh?"

"Yeah. We were out in the jungle and got surprised by the rain. One
thing led to another..." The armory officer's voice hitched on the
answer, shaking with desire. And memory. "And you could make 'now'
even better."

He should put a stop to this, he knew, for there was no way in hell
that this could come to a good end. Stopping shouldn't be that
difficult...assuming, of course, that he was still in control of his
higher brain functions. This ­ all of this ­ was definitely more than
he could handle. But his body acted on its own accord and wouldn't be
controlled.

The rain fell, enveloping them, pleasuring them both in the same way
that they were now pleasuring each other with mouths and bodies.
Breathing hard, dark hair plastered to his head, Malcolm brought up
one leg and hooked it over Trip's hip. With a devilish grin, he began
his lazy thrusting into the hand holding their erections together,
bracing himself on Trip's shoulders. Little mewls of pleasure escaped
his throat, begging for a more determined, not-too-gentle treatment.

Ah, the sounds this man could make when he cast off his
inhibitions...let himself go, just for him... Blood pounding in his
ears, Trip dipped his head forward to drink up the rivulets of rain
mingled with sweat that ran down the length of the arched neck.
Suckled on the rapid pulse just beneath the jaw and felt Malcolm
responding by gripping his shoulders even harder. He ground his body
against Malcolm's slighter frame, pinning him forcefully against the
tree, never thinking of what pain he might be causing. Letting go of
their cocks, his right hand went up to play with his lover's nipples,
stroking, teasing. A gesture that was duly appreciated in sound and
soon reciprocated. Guided by Malcolm's voice, Trip lost himself in
touching and being touched.

To Malcolm, it was a memory come alive again. The bark cut into his
back, chafing his skin, but all he felt was Trip. He writhed and
twisted in delight, trapped in the kiss and making a deliberate show
of trying to break free. Hands roamed free over his body, rubbing the
sides and grazing his nipples, making him groan loudly and his head
snap back against unyielding wood. His knees buckled, but supported by
the pressure of his lover's body, the only result was a slight shift
in position that brought him closer to the warmth and trapped his
aching cock in the juncture between Trip's thighs. Eyes fluttering
shut once more, he relished the wetness there, rain and sweat and
pre-come providing sufficient lubrication for all that was yet to
come.

Panting, Trip lifted his mouth off Malcolm's neck to watch the
emotions play across the pale, angular face and he felt another stab
of heat ripping through him from brain to groin. Malcolm's eyes were
closed in rapture, the softness of his hair shockingly dark in
contrast to the pale, glistening skin. He wanted to touch him, had to
touch him, that hair, that face, all over and all at once. The water
running down his cheeks to gather on his half-parted lips resembled a
never-ending stream of tears... This was wild, elemental, a passion
undiluted by the rain, kisses like the lightning ripping through the
slate-gray sky. Everywhere he touched was slick skin, warm and alive.
In the duel of their tongues, the soft glide within his mouth was a
flash that spread and spread again, never truly there to stay. His
senses were at warp-speed, flooding his brain with information that
threatened to drown him. The touch ­ every inch of his body was
tingling, stimulated by the impact of water. The scent ­ an
intoxicating mix of rain-soaked jungle and soil, with a trace of
sweat. The taste ­ like nothing he had ever experienced. Malcolm
tasted of nothing but himself and he shivered at the scrape of those
teeth along the surface of his tongue as he retracted it. And that
exquisite little sound Malcolm made when their mouths parted...

Something in his soul became unhinged.

"Ah want ya, Mal." Was this truly his voice, this low, gravelly
command?

"Then take me", Malcolm whispered back, matching his tone in desire
and urgency. "Take me!" His arms went around Trip in a crushing
embrace, palms kneading the hard muscles of his back. The next moment,
he was lifted, pushed up against the tree and Trip's hands cupped his
ass, spreading the firm cheeks wide. One finger pressed inside, then a
second, and he eagerly pushed his hips forward to achieve deeper
penetration, stealing a kiss whenever that delectable mouth came close
enough. He had his legs wrapped around the other's waist, squeezing
hard such as not to slip on rain-slick skin.

Trip was breathing hard, but not with the strain of supporting
Malcolm's weight. His mind still struggled with the very fact that
they were here...naked...in the middle of a flood of biblical
proportions...and that it had been Malcolm's idea! The licentious
novelty of this ongoing discovery was more than exciting. What else
was there waiting for him down the line?

Steadily, he worked his fingers in and out, but soon that was not
enough anymore, so he went for the real thing, a position previously
untried but manageable. His face was a study in concentration as he
entered his lover with agonizing slowness, easing his throbbing cock
inside carefully.

Halfway only at first. "Y'alright?" he murmured into Malcolm's ear,
laying little kisses on the earlobe and jaw.

With an affirmative nod, Malcolm buried his face at his lover's neck.
"Go on." Still, he was given a moment's pause, his partner allowing
him to adjust before pushing in fully. He muffled his moan in a sharp
bite to Trip's left shoulder. "Please..."

Digging his feet into the soft ground, Trip then began to move,
quickly establishing a rhythm that kept Malcolm's cock trapped snugly
between their stomachs. He could feel it rubbing against his clenched
abdominal muscles, slippery and hot, as he raised and lowered him with
slow, long movements. All the while, Malcolm's hands ceaselessly
caressed his neck and back, joining in with the flow of the rainwater.

It was incredible, a sexual thrill far superior to sex in the shower.
The water formed a river between his shoulder blades and followed the
channel along his spine, coursing around and over those moving fingers
and downwards to the valley between the cheeks of his pumping ass. The
drops felt like a gentle tongue lapping at the tight opening, the
sensation a counterpoint to the pressure gripping his cock. He angled,
knowing that he hit the prostate by the sob he elicited from Malcolm.

His mouth stretched into a small grin. How surprised he had been when
reserved, soft-spoken Lieutenant Reed proved to be extremely vocal
during sex!

Body awash with sensations, Malcolm held on for dear life, encircling
Trip's neck with his arms and his waist with his legs. He heard the
rough, accented voice near his ear, the disjointed expressions of
delight, and responded in kind. Urged him to continue. Wet blond hair
tickled his face and as he dared free a hand to trail it up and down
the expanse of Trip's back, the taut muscles under the tanned skin
rippled deliciously at his touch. He loved that particular moment when
Trip lost control and abandoned style for satisfaction's sake, the
moment when he resorted to fucking him in earnest, sending waves of
searing pleasure up his spine and all coherent thought out of the
window. His perception of time went second. What did he care how long
this lasted? Might as well be forever. Occasionally, he felt lips on
his neck. Or his shoulder. The muscles in his thighs protested and his
back was scratched and sore, and he was certain that there was blood,
but he felt no pain, only a dull ache. God, he was in Heaven...

Gasping at each deep thrust, he let water cascade over the side of his
face and fill his mouth before flooding over his chin and down his
throat. Instead of swallowing, he saved it for his lover, for the next
kiss. Made him drink...

Trip only increased the speed of his movements in response,
alternating between short strokes and long, sensuous slides. He was
panting, fingers biting into the flesh of Malcolm's ass, and he felt
desire rapidly winning over technique. Finesse be damned! This was
good...too damn good... From somewhere far away he heard Malcolm's
breathless whispers becoming louder, louder, culminating in a ragged
cry. The slender body went rigid in his arms, every muscle tensing.

Malcolm came first and it happened that at that very moment, their
eyes met and he had Trip see the explosion of raw emotion in the clear
blue-gray as he climaxed, the dilated pupils blotting out all color
and rendering them virtually black. Storm-eyes befitting the weather.

With one deep inhalation of breath, he finished, sagging against his
lover with limbs still wrapped around him to rest his head on his
shoulder. Lazily, he continued to move his hips, endeavoring to help
him follow him over the edge.

It didn't take Trip much longer after that. When his orgasm finally
hit, it was too soon, although his body would have claimed otherwise
and declared its inability to withstand the onslaught of pleasure one
nanosecond longer. His spine arched and he threw his head back with a
harsh, guttural yell as he came hard inside his lover, holding him
with body and hands, as tenderly as passion allowed. Blackness tinged
the edges of his vision, but he didn't pass out. Somehow he remained
on his feet. The rain took care of sweat and semen, effectively
washing it all away and leaving them as though passion had never been.

"Ah love ya, Malcolm Reed", he whispered, drained and exhausted. Not
for a second did he feel cold or merely chilled, no, only a pleasant,
satisfying warmth. Malcolm had shared something with him today that
exceeded love. He had made him part of his past as well as of his
future, and he lacked the words to describe how it affected him. But
Charles Tucker III had always been better with deeds than words;
consequently he didn't require an explanation. He understood just
fine. The monsoon. He had lived it. It was part of Malcolm's
definition of love, an elemental expression of trust. Maybe fully
understanding him wouldn't take forever after all.

Slowly, Trip lowered him to the ground, his withdrawal being answered
by a moan of protest. He steadied Malcolm as the smaller man stood on
legs that were still shaking, overexerted muscles refusing service,
and held him until the tremors subsided. When at last they pulled
apart, he gave another kiss, this one a long, gentle kiss of thank
you. The falling rain had become soothing, no longer arousing but
comforting. It wasn't so bad after all. But the prospect of wriggling
into his clothes now was less than appealing. Maybe they should walk
back to base-camp naked. Now that was a thought. The cap'n certainly
might see the attraction. "Thanks", he whispered. "That
was...amazin'..."

"You're welcome." When Trip reached around to touch his back, Malcolm
winced. Yes. Definite need of medical attention here...but it could
wait. Right now, it was Trip's thoughtful expression rather than his
own injuries that held his attention. "What is it, love?"

"Was it...", he cleared his throat, almost embarrassed to ask, "like
this...back then? Did we do it right? Was it like the first time?"

Turning his face to kiss the nape of his lover's neck, Malcolm nodded,
smiling. "Yes. Oh yes, we did. And no, it wasn't. In fact, this was
better. Infinitely better."

Though pleased, the engineer nonetheless retained his skepticism,
insisting, "There's somethin' missin'...Ah know it. Ah want it all,
darlin'...this ain't over yet. Tell me what ya said."

"Trip...I don't really understand what you mean..."

"What did ya say to the guy the first time? Ya have t'say it." Trip
tightened his embrace, pulling the bruised if sated body closer still.
"To me. Word for word." Blue-gray eyes blinked away water to meet his
gaze, puzzled at first, but then they brightened with comprehension.

"Oh. That. Of course." A smile tugged at the corners of Malcolm's
mouth and he let it take over his entire face as he returned Trip's
embrace with equal force so that not even the rain could come between
them. "Saya mencintai anda." The words still rolled off his tongue
easily, and like all those years ago, it was a declaration from the
bottom of his soul. Circle complete.

When his lover remained silent, he added, "Saya mahu anda tahu bahawa
anda adalah cinta jantung saya, hidup saya, selama-lamanya sebahagian
saya..." And that vow was for this man alone, for Charles Tucker III.
Exclusively.

All he got in return was a long, satisfied kiss and a very, very
faint, "Sounds nice. Love ya, too, Mal."

"Don't you want me to translate?" he asked. "I could even teach you.
Malay isn't that difficult a language...not if you ask my mother who's
probably running around Merdeka square this very moment, pulling out
her dictionary to look up the word for simple things like 'rice' or
'garlic', but my sister and I are fluent. Even my father, believe it
or not."

Trip let him go, shaking his head. Malcolm's enthusiasm was laudable,
but... "Better not. Ah think Ah got the gist of it. No offense, but
Ah'd rather leave the language stuff to Hoshi. English is difficult
enough as it is ­ no need to put up additional language barriers,
right?"

"Jika anda kata sedimikian...if you say so", he shrugged, looking
around for his clothes. "Let's get dressed, shall we?"

"Yep."

"The rain not bothering you anymore?"

"Rain? What rain?"

---

The End