The BLTS Archive - Un series
#5: Unleashed 
by Kiff (Kiff47@yahoo.com)

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Disclaimer:  Paramount is God.  I am not.  I make no money from this. 
Promise.

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"I don't suppose you have any lube?" asks Chakotay, stepping over to
the replicator.  Tom shakes his head, temporarily stunned and
speechless, his mind still trying to get around the idea that Chakotay
*wants* him, wants Tom *inside* him.  Fantasies are one thing, but this
is another matter entirely.

The commander speaks to the computer.  Within seconds he turns with a
small tube in his hand.  He raises his eyebrows at Tom, who has still
not moved.  

"Trust me, you *don't* want to do this on the floor."

Tom snorts in spite of his embarrassment.  Chakotay starts walking into
the bedroom, and the pilot follows, feeling a little dizzy, and
worrying that he doesn't know how to do this, it has always been done
to *him* before, he'll hurt himself or Chakotay by being clumsy...

On the other hand, he's getting a great look at Chakotay's naked ass
right now, just a few feet away from him, and it's a fine sight indeed.
Tom's cock, which had risen to half-staff while he had been sucking the
commander off, stirs to life again, and by the time Chakotay pulls back
the covers and lowers himself to the bed, Tom is more than ready.

"Strip," orders the older man softly, rolling onto his back and sliding
his hands behind his head.  He appraises Tom through languid brown eyes
as the pilot pulls his shirt over his head, unfastens his jeans, and
drops them to the floor.  He steps out of the clothes, kicking them
aside.

"Touch yourself."

Tom swallows, but can't resist the tone of command.  He reaches down
for his cock, but Chakotay stops him again.  "No.  Not yet.  Start
higher.  Play with your nipples."

He hesitates.  He's not used to this kind of foreplay.  With B'Elanna,
it was usually "wham-bam, thank you ma'am" with Tom on the receiving
end of most of the "wham-bams."

Chakotay's tone is a little gentler.  "You're beautiful, Tom.  Enjoy
it."

Tom closes his eyes and reaches up, running his right hand through his
chest hair, stroking his own skin, rubbing the area around his left
nipple, feeling it become hard under his fingertips.  A tingle runs
through his body, and his other hand crosses his chest, searching for
and finding his other nipple.  He caresses and pinches the hard little
nubs, feeling his skin flush and his heart speed up.

"That's nice," Chakotay whispers after a few minutes.  "Now go lower."

Tom's left hand stays on his right nipple while the other hand reaches
for his cock.  He strokes them together in rhythm, very aware of the
other man lying on the bed a few feet away, watching him as he
pleasures himself.

He's getting close, now -- too close.  He slows down the rhythm, his
eyes flying open.  "I--I can't..."

"Okay," says Chakotay.  He pulls the pillow out from under his head and
tosses it to the end of the bed.  "Get me ready."

Tom steps to the bed and takes the lubricant from the commander.  He
looks down at Chakotay's handsome face, flushed with desire, the dark
brown eyes slitted and dilated.  The man is beautiful, and Tom feels
something else stir inside him, something beyond lust, a kind of deeper
appreciation of what is happening between the two of them.  He has a
sudden impulse to kiss Chakotay, but another part of him senses that
it's not what the other man wants right now, that Chakotay is
orchestrating this the way *he* wants it to go and that Tom shouldn't
deviate from the plan.

He moves down to the end of the bed.  Chakotay lifts his hips, and Tom
slips the pillow underneath.  He opens the tube of lubricant and
squeezes a generous amount onto his fingers.  Chakotay spreads his
legs, and Tom reaches carefully into the commander's tight opening,
feeling resistance.  He stops for a second; Chakotay grunts in
frustration, and Tom continues, pushing slowly but steadily.  So far,
so good.  He pokes the finger around, experimenting, and Chakotay gasps
as Tom finds his prostate.  Encouraged, the pilot tries another finger,
again moving gently, not wanting to hurt his partner.  But Chakotay is
impatient; he pushes his hips forward, forcing the fingers in further.

Tom feels a little daring now; he finger-fucks the commander a little,
teasing the sensitive area, stroking Chakotay's balls with his free
hand, enjoying the grunts and moans he's able to elicit from the older
man.  /Not so much in charge now, are you/, he thinks, and adds finger
number three to the mix.

Chakotay feels his control begin to slip; he hasn't expected Paris to
be such a quick study, and the man is very close to bringing him off
again.  No.  This is not the way it is supposed to be.  "Stop that," he
hisses.  "Fuck me."

"If you insist," says his partner, and Chakotay can't believe he's
hearing the voice of Paris the smart-ass.  There's a cocky, dangerous
tone here.  Things are getting too unpredictable.  The commander tries
to sit up and re-take control of this situation.  

But it's too late; Tom pulls the older man's legs up, puts the head of
his cock to Chakotay's ass, and pushes his way inside in one motion. 
Chakotay hears himself let out a high-pitched moan; he can't recognize
his own voice.  Tom begins to thrust in and out, gaining speed as well
as confidence with each stroke.  Chakotay's ass is tight and hot,
squeezing his cock, pulling moans from deep in the pilot's belly.  His
hand, still coated with lubricant, reaches out and grasps Chakotay's
straining erection.

The commander grunts, shakes his head, tries to knock Tom's hand away,
but it's no use.  Tom intends to take him along for the ride.  Chakotay
finally surrenders, reaching for the sheets and holding on for dear
life as the younger man lets himself go, shouting his release to the
ceiling, emptying himself into his partner.  Chakotay's body shifts
into high gear once more, and his chest is splashed with his own semen
as his soul rises above his mind's attempts to restrain it.  And as he
comes down, a part of him realizes something about himself has changed
for good.

Tom Paris has gotten under his skin, in more ways than one.

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The End