The BLTS Archive - Bon Appetit!:
Dessert Menu
by Mareel (Mareel@earthlink.net)

---

Author's Notes: This is a continuation of "Bon Appetit!"
That was a gen story, albeit with some fairly slashy
overtones. This sequel assumes a knowledge of the events of
that story. This is just a little confectionery follow-up,
in response to a persistent plot bunny with a sweet-tooth.

---
Recap of the events of "Bon Appetit!":

Planetside in teams of two on a surveying mission, both
Hoshi and Trip have complained to Captain Archer that the
picnic lunches transported down to their respective teams
were mixed up. Meanwhile, Trip has indulged in a bit of
skinny-dipping—despite Reed's security concerns—and his
clothing mysteriously disappeared. As we rejoin them, Tucker
and Reed have just requested that a fresh uniform for Trip,
including a set of blues, be transported to their location.
On the planet, in a clearing beside a wide, slow-flowing
river:
---

"You see, Commander, that wasn't so hard. I think the
captain took the situation rather well, all things
considered."

Trip nodded, refusing to unwrap his arms from around his
knees as he sat against the large rock from which he had
dived into the river a few hours earlier.

"But perhaps you'll want to reconsider the security
arrangements for your uniform if you choose to plunge naked
into an alien river in the future."

"Yeah, thanks, Malcolm!"

Nearly an hour later, the shimmer of a transporter beam
produced a small duffle a few meters away from where the two
of them had been waiting in silence.

"Finally!" Trip grabbed the bag and tore it open, as Malcolm
snickered softly.

"What the...Ah, shit, not again! Goddamn transporter!"

"Trip to Archer." He stared at the silky scraps of red cloth
in his hands. "Cap'n, I can't wear this!"

"Work it out, Trip. I think I've spent enough time playing
logistics officer today. Archer out."

"Well, if that don't beat all. Dammit, what the hell am I
supposed to do, wait for Travis to arrive and hitch a ride
back to Enterprise in my birthday suit?"

Trip snapped the communicator closed, trying to pocket it
from force of habit. Malcolm watched the shift of emotions
playing across his friend's face, from annoyance to surprise
to a kind of bewilderment as he looked down at the device he
had nowhere to stow before dropping it into Malcolm's
outstretched hand.

"I think the captain wanted you to think about the
situation, Commander."

"I've done plenty of thinkin' about it, Malcolm. What I'm
thinkin' is that it seems kinda odd that some critter would
have showed up here just in time to grab my clothes and take
off, never to be heard from again. Doesn't that seem like
way too much of a coincidence to you, Lieutenant?"

A deep pink flush suffusing his face, Malcolm dropped his
gaze, only to jerk his eyes upward again immediately. And he
thought it had been hard to meet Trip's EYES! He'd been so
careful to avoid staring at the man all afternoon.

"What...What are you suggesting, Commander? Do you think
I...?" Malcolm found his query cut off by the pressure of
another mouth on his own, and a persistent tongue demanding
entrance. Caught off-guard by the sudden turn of events, he
yielded to the sensuous assault. After a long minute, Trip
broke it off.

"I'm not suggesting anything, Malcolm. Except that maybe
now'd be a good time for dessert. I'm pretty sure I got the
right dessert today in spite of all those transporter
glitches with the rest of the lunches. How about you?"

Malcolm saw Tucker's gaze shift pointedly downward, and knew
there was no hiding the evidence of his arousal.

"Looks to me like you might still be kind of hungry too."

Malcolm still had the presence of mind to notice that the
teasing note had dropped from Trip's voice, even as he felt
the engineer's deft hands methodically divesting him of his
own uniform. By the time he was standing in Trip's arms clad
in only his blues, he already missed the feel of the other
man's mouth on his, and the sweet taste of those lips.

"Mal? You okay with this? No security issues with leaving
another pile of clothes strewn around?"

"More than okay, except you talk too much, you bloody Yank.
You can ruin a good snog that way, you know. Just kiss me,
Commander, and we can take it from there."

"Was that an order, Lew-tenant?" Trip gasped as Malcolm
attached his mouth to a nipple and slipped a hand down to
finally grasp the cock that had been tantalizing him all
afternoon.

"Does it have to be, Trip?" he murmured against the chest
hair tickling his face.

"Wait a minute, you can't give me orders, Malcolm! Oh god,
that feels incredible...but I'll do whatever you want!"

Malcolm paused to remove his T-shirt and started to pull
down his boxers, but Trip stopped him, taking over the task.

"You don't just strip those off, darlin'. You gotta do it
slow and easy." He accompanied his words by slipping both
hands beneath the waistband and caressing the sensitive skin
of Malcolm's hips and groin before slowing easing the
garment over his straining erection. After pausing to give
it a long teasing stroke, Trip's hands returned to their
task. Malcolm shivered as those hands moved over his
hipbones to cup his ass before they finally slid the briefs
slowly to the ground, palms in full contact with thighs,
legs, and–finally–ankles and feet. "Lift your foot, Mal. Now
the other. There. That's how to remove a man's skivvies, Mr.
Reed."

Malcolm had watched this sensuous show in rapt silence, a
part of his mind trying to process the fact that Trip seemed
to want him as much as he'd been wanting the exasperating
engineer. He'd impulsively started the little hidden
clothing game earlier, hoping for...well, to be honest,
hoping for something like this. He'd tried, on numerous
occasions, to indicate his interest to Trip, but had never
managed to just come out and say it directly. Their
conversations always seemed to turn into shouting matches
long before any admission of attraction. But there was no
shouting now. At least not yet. Perhaps later, unless he was
wrong about the man who was now kneeling in front of him.

"Jeez, Malcolm, you look like some kind of statue standing
there so still and quiet and all."

His touch-induced reverie broken, Malcolm smiled down at
Trip and took his head in his hands, running his fingers
through the still-damp blond strands. "Trip...I want
you...have wanted you...now, please!" As his thumbs stroked
across Trip's cheekbones, the engineer moaned softly and
buried his face in Malcolm's dark curls.

"Aaaah, Mal, you smell so good." He began to lick and kiss
the cock he had been nuzzling, and Malcolm's words
degenerated into incoherence. Trip wrapped his arms around
the slim hips and splayed his hands against the firm ass
cheeks as he took Malcolm's full length into his mouth,
sucking gently at first, then with increased urgency.

"Oh god, Trip...too close...don't want to..." The rest was
never spoken, as Malcolm's body had its own ideas about what
it wanted, and Trip's mouth accommodated it so perfectly.

---

He found himself entangled with Tucker on the ground
afterward, with no clear memory of how Trip must have held
him safe and eased him to the ground when his legs wouldn't
hold him up any longer.

Trip kissed him softly, catching his eyes. Trip's own eyes
were the deepest blue Malcolm had ever seen, and the pupils
were dilated despite the brightness of the day.

"Now that was my idea of dessert."

"I don't think we're done here, Mr. Tucker." Malcolm
responded, his hands stroking across the hard planes of
Trip's chest and stomach as they coaxed his new lover onto
his back.

"I'd like to..." The sight of Tucker stretched out beside
him on the grassy ground, his cock still proudly erect,
dispersed the rest of Malcolm's intended words, replacing
them with the need to express himself in other ways. He
moved to straddle the muscular thighs and stretched forward
to claim the lips he'd found so sweet the first time they'd
kissed him. He tasted that sweetness again, but mingled with
another flavour that could only be his own essence. He
couldn't remember how long it had been since he'd last
tasted himself in a lover's kiss, if ever. His last few
encounters in San Francisco before the departure of
Enterprise had not involved much kissing, and certainly no
emotional investment. This was going to be very different,
and this time he desperately wanted to convey his feelings
to the man he'd wanted for so long.

The full contact between the lengths of their bodies had
renewed Malcolm's arousal, and he savoured the feeling of
their cocks rubbing against one another as he continued to
kiss and caress the man beneath him.

"Ummm...Dessert indeed, love. Better than dessert, I think.
You taste so good–as good as you look, as good as you feel
against me. Even the best dessert doesn't have THIS effect
on me." He took Tucker's hand and stroked it across both of
their cocks, causing Trip to inhale sharply and renew his
claim on Malcolm's mouth...

Cradled against Tucker's chest, enjoying the last warmth of
the afternoon sun and the afterglow of their lovemaking,
Malcolm suddenly turned to his lover with a throaty laugh
and a smirk.

"What's so funny?"

"Us. I was thinking earlier today that our interactions
always seemed to end loudly. I believe we kept that
tradition alive today, Mr. Tucker."

"That's not what you called me a few minutes ago,
Lew-tenant." Trip's voice softened and he kissed the tousled
dark hair as he pulled Malcolm's head back down to his
shoulder. "I don't think I've ever heard anyone call me
Charles quite like you just did."

"Do you mind?" Malcolm asked, a worried shadow creeping into
his eyes. "I know I don't usually like nicknames myself. But
even though you ask everyone to call you 'Trip', I've
thought of you as Charles ever since...well...since I
realized that I didn't want to be just 'everyone' to you.
Does that make any sense at all, or am I completely addled?"

Trip tightened his arms around Malcolm and kissed him again,
his mouth lingering as he whispered. "Makes perfect sense to
me, darlin'. And I liked hearin' it like that."

---

"Archer to Commander Tucker. Trip, can you read me? I've
been trying to contact you. Respond please."

Both men both rolled to their feet and scrambled for the
communicator still tucked in the pocket of Malcolm's
coverall. Malcolm retrieved it and handed it silently to
Tucker.

"Tucker here, Cap'n. You're not comin' through too clearly.
Must be some sort of interference that kept us from hearin'
your signal before."

"I don't know, Trip. It was getting through okay earlier
this afternoon. I wanted to let you know Travis is on his
way with the shuttle. Are you two ready to wrap it up down
there?"

"Aaahh. We'll be ready in about 10 minutes, Cap'n. Malcolm's
out makin' one last search of the area for my uniform, or
maybe part of it anyway."

Malcolm had to turn away to keep Archer from hearing his
muffled laughter or the zip of his uniform as he pulled
himself together.

"Maybe Lieutenant Reed will loan you something to wear if he
doesn't find any of your missing things. It might not fit
very well, but may be better than what you're wearing now,
Trip. His coverall probably wouldn't fit you, but you might
convince him to loan you an under-layer."

"Cap'n! First you beam me down a Hoshi-sized red bikini, now
you're suggesting I ask to borrow Malcolm's skivvies? Maybe
I'll just stay here awhile longer, Cap'n."

This time the laughter was Archer's. "I'm kidding, Trip. I
can't imagine you asking Malcolm to take off his underwear
for you. Don't worry–Travis will have some emergency
clothing on the shuttle. Archer out."

Malcolm handed Trip his uniform and tried to smooth the
taller man's ruffled hair with his fingers. Trip took both
of Malcolm's hands in his and raised them to his lips. "I
think Jonny knows more than he's lettin' on. I need to tell
you that he knows I've been wanting to get together with you
for a while now. He's not always real subtle, but he wanted
to help. I hope you won't be angry about it, Malcolm."

"It's all right, love. He seems to have done us both a
favour. Just one thing, Charles. Let's not mention the
dessert menu."

---

The End