The BLTS Archive - Worthless
#10: Spring Fever
by miera (mierac72@yahoo.com)

---

Date: May 15, 2003

Archive: Coffeeslash, EntSTCommunity, BLTS & Tim can go ahead, anyone
else please ask first!

Warnings: Multiple partners, both het and slash sex

Beta: Leah The Great

Spoilers: A tiny, implied spoiler for "Shockwave II." Blink and
you'll miss it.

Disclaimer: Jessy Giordano is mine, but the rest of the folks here
belong to Paramount. Obviously, they're having more fun with me right
now.

Author's Notes: Got this idea again, in honor of National
Masturbation Month. Threw in the "mother" references in honor of our
beloved listmom Sarah and the Mother's Day Challenge.

Feedback: Is like peanut butter and chocolate together.

---

"I gave you a direct order, Lieutenant," Archer observed with a
smirk. "That order included sucking me off, not staring."

He gulped. "Yes sir." Without hesitating, he knelt on the deck in
front of the Captain's chair, hand gliding smoothly up the muscular
thighs. He tugged slightly, pulling Archer's body forward. Gently he
ran his tongue over the head.

He heard Archer groan. "God, Malcolm."

As slowly as he could stand, he ran his tongue down the underside of
Archer's cock, causing another twitch in the naked body draped across
the command chair. Licking his way back down, he wrapped his entire
mouth around the man's shaft and, with excruciating slowness, took
him all the way into his mouth, and then drew back.

The slow pace was killing Archer. He twisted one hand around the arm
of the chair, knuckles white. The other ran through Malcolm's short
hair. "Faster, dammit."

Malcolm pulled away, allowing the cock to fall from his mouth. He
pressed his face against Archer's groin and shook his head, nuzzling
the warm flesh. "Your order didn't specify how fast, sir," he said
pointedly.

Archer gasped. "I can amend the order if necessary, Lieutenant."

"As you wish, sir." Malcolm suddenly latched onto the tip of Archer's
cock. One of his hands slipped under the other man and began to
finger his balls. Archer growled out a curse, unable to stop his body
from pumping as Malcolm began to suck harder, pulling on the entire
length. Archer gave in and came, shooting down Malcolm's throat hard
and fast...


Malcolm gasped awake, his body covered in sweat. And something else,
he realized. He fumbled the lights on and looked down. Sure enough,
the sheets had been tossed off and a large, wet stain was forming on
the front of his boxers.

"Shit."

He fell back against the pillow and sighed. This was the third time
in the last two weeks he'd woken up like this. It was ridiculous. He
was a grown man, not an oversexed teenage boy. He should not be
having wet dreams this often.

Particularly not about his captain.

He rubbed his eyes. The dampness in his shorts was becoming
uncomfortable, so he got up and went to the bathroom. Stripping off
his soiled boxers, he threw them into the laundry hamper and started
to clean himself off.

Images from the dream came back to his mind. Archer, naked in his
command chair, ordering Malcolm to go down on him. Well, Dr. Freud,
not hard to discern where that particular notion came from. The
authority figure demanding service -- albeit highly pleasurable
service -- from his subordinate, putting the subordinate in a favored
position. The only thing that could've made it more completely
textbook was if Archer ordered Malcolm to fuck him outright.

"Bloody hell." His cock twitched as the mental image of Archer
hanging on to the command chair, presenting his backside to Malcolm,
danced before his inner vision. Malcolm shook his head.

What was going on? Perhaps there were deeper psychological reasons
for that one particular wet dream, but this wasn't an isolated
occurrence. Last week, the dream about T'Pol appearing in his
quarters in the middle of the night... well, that dream at least
wasn't unprecedented. But a few nights ago, the dream he had about
Hoshi and Jessy and the gym...

More memories surfaced and he looked down. His cock was waving
happily at attention again. Resigned, he climbed into the shower
stall and grabbed some soap.


In the gym, he remembered. He was sitting on the weight bench,
watching Jessy give Hoshi a self-defense lesson. Well, not really
watching so much as ogling. Hoshi's body was all exquisite curves and
delicate lines. Like a graceful sculpture come to life, up to her
glossy black hair which was whipping around her head as she moved.
Jessy was utterly different, but just as beautiful, her powerful
muscles flowing smoothly in unison beneath her dark skin. The coils
of her brown hair tickled her neck as her ponytail dragged over her
shoulders. The two of them were sparring, bare arms and legs
entangled, hands roaming over each other in a highly suggestive
fashion. He watched, growing harder with every breath.

And they caught him.

The two women walked over, but instead of decking him -- as she most
certainly would have in real life -- Jessy simply smirked at  him,
"Enjoying the show?" she asked, looking at the prominent bulge  in his
pants.

Hoshi rolled her eyes, and then stripped off her top. She was naked
underneath. "It's nothing he hasn't seen before," she said, looking
pointedly at Malcolm.

Jessy came up behind her, hands cupping Hoshi's bare breasts, fingers
caressing her nipples. One hand reached up and brushed Hoshi's hair
back. Jessy pressed her lips against Hoshi's ear, murmuring, "Well,
then let's show him something he hasn't seen, shall we?" They both
grinned wickedly at him, Jessy nipping Hoshi's ear.

Hoshi leaned back into Jessy, eyes closed, enjoying the feeling of
the hands on her body. Jessy efficiently stripped the ensign of her
sweatpants, and while one hand continued to fondle Hoshi's breasts,
the other slipped in between her legs. Hoshi's lithe form began to
wriggle, and she gasped for breath. Malcolm's hands began of their
own accord to move towards his own swollen cock, but he locked eyes
with Jessy and stopped.

Mesmerized, he watched as Hoshi bucked against the hand pressing into
her body, nearly lifting up off the floor as she came. When Hoshi was
breathing evenly again, she stepped away from Jessy towards Malcolm.

"Think you can do better?" Hoshi asked him, seductively. She pushed
him flat on his back on the bench, and then yanked his sweats down to
his knees and straddled his taut erection. He looked over her
shoulder, though, and gestured for Jessy to come closer. He couldn't
speak, but she wordlessly stripped out of her clothes. When she was
naked he positioned her over his mouth, and as his tongue stroked up
into her wet heat, he felt Hoshi sink onto his cock.

A three-way groan went up. Jessy steadied herself on the weight bar
as Malcolm sucked on her clitoris. His hands were holding her hips to
guide her, but one broke free and he pushed two of his fingers up
into her. She was hot and tight even around his fingers.

Meanwhile Hoshi pushed herself up and down on his cock, speeding up
relentlessly. She felt like the inside of the sun, she was so hot,
and as she moved faster, she got tighter and tighter. His hips began
to thrust up to meet hers, burying himself even further into her
body. His franticness translated through his fingers and his tongue.
His teeth made contact with Jessy's clitoris and she began to come.
He pressed his fingers forward, into her g-spot and she began to
shake. He pushed even harder as his balls tightened, Jessy making
tiny little sounds as her whole body trembled in release. Hoshi was
going too fast, and he couldn't stop. He felt Hoshi clench so tightly
around him as she came, there was no way to hold back and his body
jerked as he exploded inside her heat...


He came out of the hazy dream-memory and observed that he had managed
to spray the entire front end of the shower without realizing it. It
took several minutes for him to gather the will to move away from the
wall, which was so kindly supporting him. The chill of the tile
finally became uncomfortable and he cleaned himself and the shower
quickly.

He dried off and shook his head again. As he toweled off his legs, he
looked at his cock, which was now lying innocuously against his body.
He frowned at it.

"Don't look so innocent. This is all your fault."

That wasn't entirely true, though. When he woke up from the dreams,
or even just now in the shower being awake, he still felt the same
way. Empty. Unfulfilled. Like the fantasies weren't enough. Like his
body was trying to achieve a release that it couldn't reach on its
own.

It wasn't just that he needed to get laid. He needed something --
someone -- else.

Which meant he was in deep trouble.

Grabbing a clean pair of underwear, he climbed into bed, hoping that
for tonight he would be sated enough to sleep.

Or at the very least, he wouldn't have a dream involving Trip.

He got his wish.

---

"Good morning, sir. Do you have a minute?"

Malcolm blinked, hastily shooing the mental images from last night
out of his head. "What can I do for you, Lieutenant?"

Jessy looked around the Mess hall. "Actually, I need to speak to you
in private."

He choked slightly on the last bite of his breakfast. He wiped his
mouth with his napkin. "I was just on my way to Engineering." He got
up from the table.

She nodded and fell in step with him as they walked to the turbo
lift. Once they were in the hallway and reasonably isolated, she
looked at him. "I had to order a maintenance check of Section 32
Gamma this morning. The Wonder Twins were at it again last night."

His eyebrows went up. The nickname was a security catchphrase for two
crewmembers who had a strong exhibitionist streak. "Isn't that the
second time-"

"In a week? Yes, sir. And that's not all."

The turbo lift opened and several people got out. When the doors were
closed behind them, she crossed her arms. "I thought I was going to
witness a new record being set."

"What happened?" he asked, surprised. The ship-wide record for number
of people having sex at once was three, which had already happened
several times.

"As best as I can tell, the Twins got interrupted. Someone else had
the same brilliant idea."

"Do you know who?"

Despite their being alone, her voice dropped nervously. "Han and
Sanchez."

He blinked. Han was a crewman, but Sanchez was a Lieutenant, and they
were both engineers. He hadn't even known the two were involved. He
wondered if Trip was aware, given that they were violating explicit
regulations about fraternizations between rank in the same
department.

As if she read his mind, Jessy added. "That's a recent development.
One of several."

He rolled his eyes. "For heaven's sake, this is a Starfleet vessel,
not a singles cruise."

"Not the way things have been going lately. Anyway, last night the
four of them lingered in the area for a bit and then separated back
to their respective corners. However, I'm willing to bet words were
exchanged. I saw Sanchez on her way to her shift this morning looking
pretty pissed off."

Malcolm's face darkened. "It's bad enough that the crew are ignoring
the fraternization regulations so freely, why can't they restrain
themselves to their own quarters?"

Jessy shrugged. "It's not specifically against regulations to have
sex in a publicly accessible area, is it?"

He thought a moment. "Honestly, I've never had reason to check."

She laughed, "That's because you know the kind of internal
surveillance capability we have on board."

"If they only knew what we know," he said dryly, quoting an old
security joke. He turned back to the larger issue. "I don't suppose
there's an explanation for this outbreak of..." he searched for a
polite euphemism for 'fucking like bunnies,' his own fantasies of the
past few nights weighing on his mind. "Friskiness?"

"Well, it's that time of year, isn't it?" Seeing his confusion, Jessy
added. "Spring fever?"

"Surely not this far out. We're over a hundred light years from
earth. We should be immune to the change of seasons in deep space,"
he protested.

She shrugged again. "Maybe it's something that's hardwired into our
systems, in our genetic code? I don't know. It seems as good an
explanation as any."

Wonderful. Just wonderful. An entire shipload of people full of
energy, in the grips of a primal human urge to mate. In public. A
lot. Like his job wasn't complicated enough. And he himself was horny
as hell. The lift slowed, and he pulled his thoughts back to the
problem at hand. "Perhaps we should restrict access to the sweet spot
at least. Before fisticuffs break out."

Jessy frowned, following him towards Engineering. "Can we do that? I
mean, there's no legitimate reason to keep people from that area."

"I'll find an excuse. I'd like to discourage this trend before we
have an open orgy on our hands and the Captain is asking me why I
didn't prevent it. What?" Jessy had a dangerous smile on her face.

"If we can't give a direct order, maybe we could use an indirect
one." He nodded for her to continue. "What if we make a casual
announcement that we're randomly testing all the video cameras aboard
the ship? It might put the fear of God into some of our regular
customers," she smirked.

Malcolm returned the smirk with one of his own. He had to admire the
deviousness of her mind. "That would be an excellent start." He
thought a moment. "And if it doesn't work, we could always try
selling tickets." Jessy chuckled as they entered Engineering. He
stopped and said in a more formal tone, "I'll send the notice out
when I reach my station at the Bridge. I expect you to take the first
set of random tests tonight, Lieutenant."

"Yes, sir." Jessy grinned at him.

"You two are way too perky for this hour of the morning," Trip
grumbled, coming up behind Jessy.

"It's my evening, remember, Commander," she reminded him.

Before he could reply, a crash came from the other side of the room.
Crewman Han had dropped an entire box of conductor parts. Trip sighed
heavily. "Crewman, we're supposed to fix stuff, not break it."

Han flushed in embarrassment. "Yes, sir. Sorry, Commander." He began
cleaning up the mess.

"He's all thumbs this morning," Trip observed, turning back to
Malcolm and Jessy.

She shot Malcolm a very knowing look and Malcolm had a narrow escape
from bursting out laughing in front of Tucker.

"What can I do for you two?" Trip asked, confused by their sudden
smiling.

"I was just leaving, actually. Good night, Lieutenant, Commander."

Malcolm shook his head and turned to Trip. "You wanted to go over the
upgrade schematics for the torpedo launch mechanism before I went to
the Bridge," he reminded Tucker.

"Oh right, I got 'em in my office."

Trip turned and Malcolm's eyes, almost of their own accord, raked
over Trip's body. Images began to flash through his brain and Malcolm
gritted his teeth. *Think of something else. Wallpaper. Calculus. Mum
wearing a muumuu...*

Malcolm followed Trip into the engineer's office, his mind
momentarily cleared.

---

The answer was always work. When confronted with a difficult
situation, Malcolm could always count on finding some kind of work to
bury himself in. Not the healthiest approach to life, he knew, but
overhauling the torpedo alignment sensors kept him up to his chin in
work and kept his mind off more dangerous topics.

He sealed the hatch and allowed himself a moment of tired
satisfaction. Sitting on the floor of the Armory, alone, he leaned
back against the wall. The sensors were working far better than they
had been a couple days ago, he was sure. He would have to run some
simulations to confirm how much.

His stomach rumbled and he realized it was after his regular shift,
and he hadn't eaten since breakfast. Chef and Phlox would both be on
his back if he missed another meal, so he got up, dusted himself off
and headed for the Mess hall.

Walking down the corridor, he heard a commotion coming from the Mess.
Curious, he walked through the doors and halted in shock.

Jessy was fighting with Crewman Ross. There were about four people
attempting to restrain her, with no success. Two other people were
trying to haul Ross away but he was refusing to go.  Jessy aimed a
well-placed kick at his midsection and Ross doubled over, sinking to
his knees. Jessy backhanded him across the face for good measure.
Ross fell all the way to the floor. The smacking noise echoed in the
room and everyone froze. A silence fell: both from the end of the
fight and the realization that a senior member of the Bridge staff
was present.

Malcolm took in the scene. He realized Travis was one of the people
who'd been trying to pin Ross down. Jessy looked at Malcolm,
breathing hard, obviously struggling for control. Behind her, Kai
Batare was standing rigidly, her face covered in tears.

Malcolm decided to turn to a neutral party first. "Ensign, what's
going on here?"

Travis sighed. "Crewman Ross made a comment that was highly
unprofessional, and when Lieutenant Giordano reprimanded him, things
got a bit heated."

Malcolm's eyebrows went up and he turned to Jessy, who nodded without
meeting his gaze. "I apologize, sir. I shouldn't have let my temper
get the better of me."

"Ross hit first," a new voice said, behind him. Hoshi was there,
looking as furious as Malcolm had ever seen her.

He cast his eyes down at Ross, who was struggling to get to his  feet.
"Is this true, Crewman?"

Ross' flat brown eyes glared at him. The man's expression was one of
an overgrown boy, sulky and somewhat arrogant. Malcolm unconsciously
tensed, but the man was evidently not stupid enough to attack the
chief armory officer. "Yes, sir. I--" the words seemed to stick in
his throat. "I'm sorry," he muttered.

"I think you owe Crewman Batare the apology," Hoshi said harshly.

Ross' eyes flickered to Batare's face and he mumbled something that
sounded barely coherent. Malcolm met Hoshi's eyes and they silently
agreed that was as good as it was going to get. He turned to Jessy.

"Do you wish to file a report about this, Lieutenant?"

Jessy looked over her shoulder at Kai, who shook her head mutely.
Malcolm surmised that whatever was wrong here, it had started between
Batare and Ross and somehow Jessy had gotten involved. "No, sir."

"Very well. Crewman Ross, you're restricted to your quarters for the
next two days. Dismissed."

Ross limped out of the Mess Hall, looking pissed off.

Malcolm frowned at Jessy and inclined his head towards the corridor.
She followed him out. When he turned towards her, looking angry, she
stood at attention, eyes fixed on the wall. "Do you have an
explanation for what I just saw?" he asked gravely.

"I reprimanded Crewman Ross after he said something inappropriate to
Crewman Batare. He didn't take it well, and he attempted to shove me.
I--" she swallowed hard. "I'm afraid my instincts took over and I
fought back."

"I expect better of you, Lieutenant." She looked down at the floor
and her face flushed bright red. "Both as an officer and a member of
the security team." Giordano losing control of her temper was no
small thing, and they both knew it, so he spared her that part of the
lecture. "What did you say to him?" he asked finally.

She looked right into his eyes. "I informed Crewman Ross if he ever
called another female member of this crew a bitch in my hearing
again, I would personally drop-kick him out an airlock. Sir." Her
voice was tight with anger still.

Malcolm sighed. Technically that was a threat towards another
crewmember -- which could be actionable, if Ross decided to be a pain
in the ass about it. But Malcolm knew, had he been in Jessy's place,
he probably would have said much the same thing. And he doubted Ross
would pursue the issue. Still, something had to be done. He thought
for a moment, then said, "In the future you should be a bit less...
descriptive... in this kind of situation."

She blinked. "Yes, sir. I apologize for my lack of self-control. It
won't happen again."

"Well, it seems to be going around," he observed dryly. She gave a
cautious half-smile. "You will also be confined to your quarters off
duty for the next two days." She nodded. "You're dismissed."

He wasn't surprised when he re-entered the Mess to find Batare
waiting by the doors. She scooted out as he entered and he saw her
and Jessy walk off down the corridor.

Malcolm rolled his shoulders, collected some kind of chicken dish and
a glass of iced tea and sat down with Hoshi and Travis. He looked at
the two of them and raised his eyebrows. "So?"

Hoshi and Travis looked at each other. Travis put down his  fork.
"Batare and Ross have been seeing each other for a couple  weeks."

Malcolm cursed inwardly. He should have known.

"A couple nights ago, at movie night, they were all over each other."

"He was all over her," Hoshi corrected, stabbing viciously at her
salad. "I could hear her telling him to back off."

"Anyway," Travis continued. "Batare and Giordano were eating and Ross
came in with his arm around Crewman Paillo."

"Very around," Hoshi added. "To the point of indecency."

"Kai got up and asked him what was going on and Ross..." Travis
shifted uncomfortably.

Malcolm's gaze shifted to Hoshi. "He told her he had no use for  a
'frigid bitch' like her and they were over," Hoshi said quietly.
Despite the low tone of her voice, he could see she was nearly
shaking with repressed fury.

"And Giordano stepped in at that point," Malcolm finished the story.
The two ensigns nodded. Malcolm could almost see the scene unfolding
before him. Ross' insult, Jessy jumping up to defend her friend and
slapping Ross down verbally, and Ross trying -- and failing -- to hit
her. The man deserved whatever bruises he got for being so stupid.
Attacking Giordano was akin to dangling red meat in front of a hungry
tiger.

Hoshi muttered something in Klingon. Everything in Klingon sounded
vaguely profane to Malcolm's ears, but even so, he could guess what
Hoshi had said. Travis looked at her, amused. "You kiss your mother
with that mouth?"

Hoshi rolled her eyes and bypassed the rest of her salad for her ice
cream.

Malcolm chewed a piece of chicken and looked around the Mess
thoughtfully. "Does it seem to you like emotions are running
particularly high these days?" he asked.

Travis shrugged. "Maybe a little bit."

Hoshi licked cream off her spoon absently. Malcolm took a large drink
of his iced tea. She finished sucking on the utensil and said, "Now
that I think about it, there seems to be a lot of hooking up going on
lately."

Travis rolled his eyes. "Well don't look at me. All I do is work and
sleep."

Malcolm met Hoshi's eyes and he gave her a wicked look. "Oh really?"
he asked Travis, who looked slightly indignant.

Hoshi immediately caught on and nodded. "Yeah, it sounds to me like
you're protesting an awful lot Travis."

"I am not!" Travis objected. Hoshi laughed out loud.

Malcolm shook his head. "I guess spring fever is running rampant."

"Spring fever, cabin fever, call it what you want," Hoshi said,
taking another bite of her ice cream. "We need a break."

"Perhaps I'll suggest to the Captain to start looking for chances for
shore leave," Malcolm observed, finishing his chicken.

Travis nudged Hoshi's arm, "What flavor is that?"

"Strawberry ripple," Hoshi said, holding the spoon out to him. Travis
tasted the ice cream from Hoshi's spoon and licked his lips
appreciatively. Malcolm had to cross his legs and begin reciting the
multiplication tables as his imagination went into overdrive.

He decided against eating dessert that night.

---

Malcolm headed for his own quarters after dinner, trying not to think
too much about Hoshi, Travis and ice cream all together. He sighed to
himself. Travis was a gorgeous man, no matter what your inclination
or orientation was. What was it Hoshi had said about that actor she
lusted after? "He has the kind of looks that would make Michelangelo
toss David and start over."

His life would be so much easier if it was Travis.

Well, Malcolm thought to himself, entering his room and staring out
at the bright lines of the stars, it wouldn't solve all his problems.
There were still rank issues. Plus he was fairly certain the young
ensign was operating only on one side of the fence.

His mind flickered with images of being Travis' lover. The powerful
muscles of his upper half, covered in sweat, big but exceedingly
gentle hands gliding over naked skin. Possessing that perfect body
would be a rich reward, but immediately on the heels of that thought
was the mental picture of Travis bouncing eagerly out of bed in the
morning, exhorting his partner to go rock climbing or windsurfing or
just to embrace the day with all his usual bright enthusiasm.

No. Just... no.

Malcolm sighed again. It didn't really matter how beautiful Travis
was, or how protective Malcolm felt about Captain Archer, or whatever
latent fantasies he might harbor about anyone else on board. He could
sleep with every other member of the crew and it wouldn't cure him of
his obsession with Trip Tucker.

In their first months on Enterprise, Malcolm assumed the visceral
reactions between them were merely part of their massive personality
conflict. He believed their friendship to be something forged by
adversity and close quarters rather than a meeting of the minds.

When he began to lust after the engineer, he dismissed it.
Convenience. Proximity. It wasn't anything new. The human mind must
have its fantasy object. This had happened before, and as long as he
retained control of it, he wouldn't worry.

Malcolm rubbed his eyes wearily. He'd lost control of this situation
a long time ago.

He was drawn to Trip like a magnet. Every bloody day revolved around
the man. A good day was when 1) no one on the crew was in mortal
danger and the ship wasn't fired on and 2) when he saw Trip for a
prolonged period. A great day was when both of those things happened
and he got to blow something up.

Even when they were fighting, as they so often did, part of him
wanted to grab the blonde and fuck him senseless. Or let Trip take
him until he passed out.

Malcolm shut his eyes tightly. The fantasy road was no longer open to
him where Trip was concerned. Giving free reign to his imagination,
assuming the attraction would play itself out, had nearly been
disastrous.

Trip had seen the truth, and been so repulsed he basically fled.
Malcolm had been afraid that  their friendship had been seriously
damaged, and the thought of losing Trip entirely was too horrible to
contemplate. So Malcolm had viciously repressed even the slightest
inclination. He would not use Trip in that fashion. To do so would
violate their friendship.

No more ideas about a long stay in decon after an away mission.

No more visions of Trip appearing in the Armory and pinning him
against the torpedo housing and kissing him senseless.

No more images of the two of them in the shower, Trip taking Malcolm
from behind, murmuring in his ear as he entered him, "You're mine,
Malcolm. Mine." Malcolm whimpering back, as he was caressed with both
ferocity and love, "Always."

Malcolm grunted, forcibly stopping the train of his thoughts by
digging his nails viciously into his palm.

He had stopped fantasizing about Trip for all the right reasons, but
also because it hurt too much. It was difficult enough to live and
work with the man every day. Spending every night obsessing over what
he was never going to have was a sure road to insanity. But then, was
mooning about in his cabin a sign that he was sane?

Disgusted with himself, Malcolm stripped out of his uniform and put
on his gym clothes. He worked out thoroughly, to the point of
exhaustion, and then came back to his quarters.

In the shower, he called up every fantasy he could think of, every
dark or dirty thought he had had about his crewmates, male and
female, together and separate, working himself to a massive orgasm
that left him trembling and breathless. He crawled into bed and fell
asleep with merciful quickness.

And dreamed of Trip anyway.

---

The End