The BLTS Archive - The Magic Hand of Chance
#2: Blowing Out The Flame
by raku (raku2u@aol.com)

---

copyright 1998 by raku

Disclaimer:  Paramount and Viacom hold copyright in these characters
and setting.  This is a not-for-profit work of fanfic; the plot is
mine.

Archiving:  ASC archive ok; R'rain also; ok for personal download.  No
fratboy sites.

Author's note:  "The Magic Hand of Chance," in which Tuvok and Tom
choose each other, precedes this story.  This is a rough one.  Pon
farr's not a pretty thing.

Story written under the influence of Bruce Springsteen's "Badlands,"
Fleetwood Mac's "Go Your Own Way" and "Bleed to Love Her," and
Aerosmith's "Hole in My Soul," whence the title.  All of 'em what a
friend used to call "stab me in the heart" songs.

---

Tuvok stood before a viewport in his quarters, watching the stars
streak by as their starship crept homeward.  His gaze dropped to the
table in front of him, set before the window, where starlight would
fall on it.  A slender candle burned, standing next to a rank of
holopics.  His wife--still? now?--and children.  A smooth stone his
daughter had given him.  A dried kan'cha blade from an arrangement
T'Pel had had on their table for the holiday.  A square chip
containing a copy of his second son's first-ever computer program.
The golden candlelight shone across them all.

Tuvok leaned forward and sheltered the flame with his hand.  He
watched it for a moment, studied its brilliance, its clear purpose.  A
finer statement of love he could not think of.  He exhaled gently, and
the flame stuttered, went out.  "Good-bye, T'Pel," he softly said.
"In my life, no longer.  In my heart, ever and always."

Quietly Tom came up behind Tuvok and put his hands on the Vulcan's
shoulders.  After a moment's shared reflection, he said, "I grieve
with thee."  He pulled something from his pocket and set it next to
the holopics of Tuvok's family.  A portrait of the Paris clan, a rare
portrait of them in the same place at the same time.  Gleaming hair,
bright teeth, happy faces shining out forever, unaltered by the
chances of life.

The two stood together, studying their families, so unlike, yet with
so much in common:  values that had inspired their men to pick this
life--important, and dangerous. After a moment Tom continued:  "We'll
always think of them, together, your family and mine."

His hand found Tuvok's and pressed it hard.  They gazed at the
pictures in silence, until Tom noticed that Tuvok's whole arm was
shaking.  Tuvok bowed gracefully to the paired families as the
trembling ran through him like a shockwave.  He turned to kiss Tom's
lips.  Gently, then not so gently.

"I burn for thee," said Tuvok, in a rough voice.

Simultaneously they said, "My face is flame, my body, flame..."

Tuvok spoke the lights down.  They made their way together to the bed,
and Tuvok sensed the fever race and leap within him like a living
thing seeking food.  As Tom bent to lie down, Tuvok let loose a
gravelly roar from deep in his chest.  He curved his head and arms
protectively inward, as if he'd been hit in the stomach.

Surprised by the sound, Tom half-turned.  The sight jolted him: Tuvok,
still, but no Tuvok he knew.  He had enough presence of mind to grab
the dish of lubricant Tuvok had set out and wipe down everything he
could reach--and then the Vulcan was upon him.

Tuvok hurled Tom backward against the bed, hands grabbing for his
cock, his hips, his legs--anything and everything he could reach.
Just as Tuvok seized Tom's knees he wrenched them out of the Vulcan's
grasp and threw his legs apart, keeping a shred of control.

Tuvok flung himself on top of the human and wove his fingers strongly
into Tom's hair, holding his head rock-solid on the pillow.  His hips
were making their own way:  Tom could feel Tuvok thrusting against
him, thrusting up and in, hardly waiting, the plaktow seizing him and
turning him into a creature with but one thought.  Mate or die.  Mate
or die.  Mate or die.  Tom tried to match the rhythm Tuvok was setting
but found that the Vulcan was in his own world of arousal,
disconnected.

He looked at the eyes of the Vulcan hovering above him, but they were
dark pools, dark and closed.  If Tuvok was in there, he couldn't be
reached, not in any normal way.  Tom wrapped his arms around Tuvok's
chest, clasped that fiery-hot skin against him, and prayed to the god
of pilots that he could guide them safely home, wherever that turned
out to be.

Ragged breaths were pouring from Tuvok as he panted and lunged, trying
to find relief from the claws of lust that owned him.  Tom could feel
the other's cock hot within him, thrashing, struggling, driving in and
out, seeking release before the frenzy obliterated them both.  And
then, almost as soon as he'd begun, Tuvok gushed into his lover's
tormenting body.  He arched his back, slammed one last time against
Tom.  In an agonized croak he whispered, Jilad, jilad.  I must, I
must.

Collapsed onto the other's pounding chest, Tuvok drew in huge lungfuls
of the room's cool air, gasping like a swimmer pulled from the
riptide.  Now it was Tom's turn to have the shakes, half surprised and
half terrified by what it was that held Tuvok.  The Vulcan had not
spoken to him, had not even called his name.  Truly possessed.  No
wonder Tuvok had been apprehensive.  And this was just the start.

For a short moment Tom lay gathering his wits, still pinned under
Tuvok's surprising weight.  Then he could feel the other moving once
more, moving like a dead man come to life, and as inarticulate.  Yet
again Tuvok sought Tom's body--he'd become hard almost immediately
after his climax.

//Holy smokes,// thought the human.  //Twice in five minutes?// And
Tuvok was entering him once more, seeking relief once more, still with
no avail.  He was less making love than he was wrestling: the large
muscles in his thighs, his arms, the knotted muscles in his back and
shoulders--all made the engine he used to assail the human, to seek
something that Tom could hardly provide.

Tom could feel the other's fingernails drawing sharp bloody lines up
his ribs, then dig into the muscles under his shoulderblades as Tuvok
shifted his hands.  Tom grabbed Tuvok's upper arms and was surprised
at the iron strain in the biceps and triceps.  He could hardly look at
Tuvok's face: the normally serene features were twisted in pain and
concentration.

Unrelenting, he lashed them both onward, his cock a duranium pylon
against Tom's insides, seeking stimulation beyond what anyone
earth-born could offer.  The human felt the broad lips work against
his neck, following the curve of his Adam's apple, then on his own
mouth.  The lips he had only known in a soft caress, respectful of his
body, they now crushed his lips against his teeth, hard.  Tuvok's
tongue whipped through his mouth like lightning, tracing the arc of
his gleaming teeth, seeking his tongue and pinning it to the floor of
his mouth, all while the Vulcan ground himself against the pilot's
lean torso, slick with sweat and threads of blood.

Tuvok's fingers splayed across the human's cheekbones, seeking support
any way he could find it.  But he was too lost in the fever to create
a useful mindmeld, and Tom could only feel shards of the Vulcan's
consciousness collide against his own and slip away into nothingness.

Grimacing, Tuvok pounded out, *You* *are* *not* *T'Pel*--  As he
groaned his former bondmate's name, his psyche screamed soundlessly at
his partner:  //*help me, t'hy'la, **help** me*--//

A huge orgasm finally tore at Tuvok's nerves and flesh--a cry
instinctive and primal rose from his throat, as he dashed himself
against Tom and spilled his fruitless seed.  Their hipbones were
battered in the struggle, crushed by Tuvok's body trying in vain to
meet and join his bondmate forever, burning up in a nuclear fire of
all-but-thwarted passion.

Tom could feel black-and-blue marks spreading, fleetingly thought
they'd both need medical care when Tuvok came to himself, whenever
that was.

Again, and yet again.  Two powerful men in the full bloom of their
strength.  They wrestled and fought, tried to bring Tuvok to a cove of
release and calm water with all the force of their combined bodies.
Finally, sore all over and bleeding profusely from a cut on one lip,
Tom fell asleep during a short interlude. Only when Tom failed to
respond to what was merely the latest inward thrust, did the Vulcan
realize the human had been conquered by exhaustion.

Stunned by this unexpected desertion, Tuvok struggled to think
clearly.  The fire burned, and burned, and burned.  How could he could
slake his need?  Masturbation?  Nowhere near enough stimulation, not
now.

//must bring down the fever//

Stark naked and shaking all over, with a hoarse voice he gave
commanded the computer to raise the room's temperature twenty degrees.
He staggered to the bathroom and turned the shower on full, twisting
the showerhead to a needlelike setting.  First he steamed himself to
loosen horribly knotted and ill-used muscles; then he switched to
cold, to try and drive down the fever as best he could until Tom
recovered and woke.  Then heat again, then cold.  Finally, he warmed
himself briefly, then with effort stepped out into the now-warmer
room.

He crept back to bed wrapped in a specially thick robe and retrieved a
small medkit from the table.  He hunched on the edge of the bed and
readied a mild sedative in a hypo, hoping it would also help dull the
edge of the fever-peak.  He set it against his thigh and pressed it
home with a long hiss.  He sighed.

He heard a small noise behind him.  He turned, and found Tom awake and
watching him with guarded eyes.  He could see bruises coming up all
over Tom--that light-colored skin of course showed more damage more
quickly. //not like T'Pel//  Had he done that to Tom's lips?  And that
black eye?

"Tuvok," Tom whispered.  "Are you ok?"

The Vulcan shrugged wordlessly and began to sweep him with the
scanner.  Abrasions and bruises everywhere.  Dehydration.  A bruised
testicle, strained ligaments in an ankle and a wrist, rectal tearing
and bleeding.  He switched to the dermal regenerator, adjusted the
setting, and did what he could about the more serious injuries.  The
rectal damage worried him the most--they'd hardly begun and Tom had
reached a shockingly bad state already.

"Tom.  I apologize."  His voice was a shadow of its normal controlled
self.

"For what?  This isn't your doing, exactly."

"For damaging you.  I should have warned you.  I should have provided
more information.  I think we have a short time when we can talk.
Then it will be on me again."

"That's fine. Don't worry about me, Tuvok, I'm a tough guy."  His
elegant fingers gently touched his healed lip and the area around his
eye.  He produced a lopsided grin.  Tom studied the Vulcan sitting in
front of him.  If the man hadn't been from that particular planet,
he'd have said he was very upset.

"Why so angry?"

"This is harder than I had anticipated."  Tuvok rubbed his eyes with
the heels of his hands.

"How come?"

"It is...more difficult, with a human, than I had expected."

"Um, do you really mean, because I'm not a woman?"

"No, although---we must be certain to use enough lubrication to avoid
injuring you yet more."

Tom tipped the dish on edge and said, "Yeah, we should stock up now.
And maybe this time you could give me a word or two of warning?"  He
squeezed Tuvok's knee.

"Tom.  This is a *madness.*  It makes little allowance for warnings
and other niceties.  And I am concerned..."

"Look, I've been in bar fights that were worse than this.  I'll live."

"You do not understand.  There is risk of internal injury.  My ... I
am designed to be protected.  Perhaps you did not observe me closely."

"Observe you?  When would I have done that?"

With considerable dignity Tuvok swept apart the folds of his robe to
reveal his penis, mostly erect even now.

"You're not circumcised," Tom said, in mild surprise.

"Technically speaking, no, I am not," Tuvok replied. "But it is an
inexact comparison.  The Vulcan sr'aal is not removable in quite the
same sense that the human foreskin is."

Tom turned slightly pink and pulled the sheet up to his waist.  Tuvok
had apparently got a pretty good look at *him,* at some point.

"It usefully deadens sensation to some extent, at least at first.  It
is a practical adaptation for periods of pon farr, when encounters may
happen many times in close succession."

Tom murmured, looking Tuvok in the eye, "I'll say."

Tuvok covered himself again and lay down on the bed, not touching his
companion.

"I am worried," he finally announced in a low voice.

"About anything in particular?"

"I am...not finding ...   I require... more..."

Tom rolled onto his side and studied his companion's profile.  "Tuvok.
Are you saying I'm not satisfying you?"

The Vulcan sighed hugely with relief.  "Yes."

"Any suggestions what we do about it?   Is there anything I can do, or
do differently?"

"There is a combination of pheromones that is missing--they are
normally emitted by both partners in pon farr.  Normally, synthetics
are used if one partner is not Vulcan.  We had not enough time to
prepare them.  I did not think I would be going through this period
with a partner."

"Maybe the Doctor could help?  Could he create an alternative?"

"In all probability." Tuvok shifted uneasily, his attention apparently
caught by something across the room.

"And that would mean telling him what's going on, what we're doing.
Isthat a problem?"  Tom ran a comforting hand along his lover's arm.

Tuvok dropped his head and closed his eyes.

//Jesus,// thought Tom.  //You'd think he was ashamed of sex.  Jesus
H. Christ on a crutch.//  "Look, Tuvok, I don't think we have a lot of
alternatives here.  Seems like if we don't do this right, you're
likely to injure *me,* and not be able to resolve the pon farr for
*you,* right?"

Unwillingly, the Vulcan replied, "Correct."

"Then I guess we'd better get on it while we have time.  Could you get
a formula for the pheromones to the Doctor immediately, then?  I'll
ask Harry to pick it up for us, unless you tell me that the food
replicator will do the job."

Tuvok shook his head, not sure if the replicator proposal was a joke.

"Ok, Harry it is, then.  You get cracking and let the Doc know, and
I'll get hold of Harry."

"Tom."  In the act of getting out of bed, Tom stopped and turned.
That velvet voice.  What was up?

"There is one other matter.  It ... may be a matter of personal taste.
I am not sure how to say this."

"Just pick some words, Tuvok," said Tom mildly.  "How bad can it be?"

"On Vulcan, among pairs--pairs that include both genders, in pon farr,
it--"  He stopped for a moment, worked his hands against each other.
He looked down as he spoke.  "Anal intercourse is uncommon.  You
are--very tight."

Tom smiled. "Ah, Tuvok, it's not like I'm equipped with *tons* of
alternatives.  There's no getting around I'm not a woman."

Tuvok looked up and studied at him with glittering eyes.

"Yes.  Yes, there is an alternative."

---

"You're kidding me," said Tom.  "Special surgery?  I'm sorry, Tuvok,
that's just a little more..."

"Your mouth," said Tuvok so softly Tom could hardly hear him.

Tom threw back his head and laughed.  "Is *that* all?  Oh, man, you
had me going there for a minute.  Tuvok, oral sex is pretty common
among humans.  This is not what I'd call a problem.  If you'd been
going just a *tad* more slowly, I'd have shown you that before now."
He grinned at Tuvok's embarrassment, then softened his look and took
Tuvok's hand.

"Probably that sheath, that covering, can move more easily?  Look,
it's fine with me.  No big deal.  Hey, I'd show you right now but I'm
afraid I'd get you started again, and we need those pheromones."  He
reached across and patted one shoulder.

Then he crawled out of bed a little stiffly and headed for Tuvok's
desk.  Tuvok watched him walk across the room, giving no sign of what
he'd just been through or fear of what was to come.

Tom punched a couple of buttons on Tuvok's desk, said, "Paris to Kim."

"Kim here.  Hey, Tom, where are you?  I was looking for you for that
squash game we had on."

"Ah, Harry, I won't be free for--"  he looked up at Tuvok, still
huddled on the bed--"for a while.  Look, can you pick up a package the
Doc will have ready in half an hour or so, and bring it by Tuvok's
quarters?"

"Tuvok's..."  A brief silence on the other end.  Then Harry's voice
continued, and Tom could hear his friend's smile woven in the words.
"B'Elanna told me you two had come back early and that she had to go
down planetside with Carey instead.  I didn't realize..."

Tom interrupted, "Harry, it's no big deal, Tuvok just needs a little
special Vulcan care.  Can you do it, and keep it kind of quiet?  We'd
both appreciate it."

"Yes, sure thing, Tom.  I'd be happy to help."  Then in a quieter
tone, Harry said, "Oh and Tom, I'm happy for both of you.  Kim out."

Tom reflected on how much had changed since he had last talked with
Harry, when he had lamented how untouchable Tuvok was.  Shaking his
hand to loosen the tightened ligaments and muscles, he headed for
Tuvok's shower, hoping the warmth would help.

When he emerged, clean and feeling better, he found Tuvok seated at
the computer terminal, forehead leaning on clenched fists.  Some
coffee was steaming gently in a thermal cup.

Tuvok lifted his head and gestured that the coffee was for Tom.  Then
he remarked, "I have conveyed the formula to Sickbay, and asked the
Doctor to attend to it urgently.  He said that Mr. Kim was already
there waiting, and that he would send it right away.  Curiously, he
closed by saying 'Mazel tov'."

Tom smiled at the disconcerted Vulcan.  "Tuvok, he's just happy for
us.  Well, hologram-happy.  Boy, you should hear about old- style
human weddings if you think this is extreme.  Wedding night rituals,
bloody sheets displayed to prove the bride was a virgin, the whole
ball of wax."  Tom picked up the cup and swallowed its contents in
three gulps.

He strolled behind Tuvok and ran his hands down the other's chest.  He
whispered in a pointed ear, "Not that either of us was a virgin,
right?"  In more normal tones he continued, "Maybe you'd feel better
if you lie down until Harry gets here.  It shouldn't be long."

Indeed, as Tuvok was crossing the suite the door-chime sounded.  Tom
swung around the corner to answer the door and was greeted by a
widely-grinning Harry.  The ensign studied Tom's sweatpants and
sweatshirt and dryly noted, "Dressed for the occasion, are we?"

Tom leaned toward his friend and said in confidential tones, "Not now,
Harry, not now.  Just give me the package, ok, pal?   It's Tuvok we're
talking about--weren't you the one lecturing me on the Privacy rules
on Vulcan?"

"Yeah, ok, I just can't resist the chance to tease you.  I'm so
pleased things have worked out."

"Mm-hm, me too--but I think I have work to do, Harry, if you get my
drift."

Harry reached out to shake his hand and said, "All best, Tom.  Good
for you.  For both of you."

"Thanks, Harry.  I don't know what to say."  Tom gestured good- bye,
waving the package in one hand.

Grinning like a fool, Harry stepped back and let the door close.

Tom returned to the bed and saw Tuvok was huddled in a ball, still in
his robe and with all the blankets covering him.  The pilot sat on the
edge of the bed and ran a hand over his companion's flank.  He could
feel the radiant heat even through several layers of cloth.  He
glanced at the bedside table and noted that Tuvok had replicated more
lubricant.  //That's a mercy, // mused Tom.

He tore open the box and saw a note from the doctor indicating he
didn't know what the "customary dosage" was for this preparation, but
recommended it be used in moderation, "to avoid unwanted side
effects."  Tom twisted off the top and took a deep breath.  No scent
to speak of, but he suddenly found he was thinking of deserts, sharp
dry smells, and of water.  Curious.

With a small pool of the glittering liquid in his palm, he rubbed his
hands together and then along the sides of his throat, under his chin
and across his cheeks.  After some thought he also spread a little on
his chest and belly and down his thighs.  He picked up the dish and
lubricated himself well, then made sure that plenty more was right at
hand.  He wiped his hands well on a towel, and took a deep breath.

He leaned across the Vulcan, who seemed to be almost in a trance.

"Tuvok?" he whispered in one midnight ear.  Tuvok stirred, rolled onto
his back and opened his eyes.

"Tom," he mouthed on an outward breath.  His eyes dilated and his
nostrils widened, taking in the scent that Tom was silently giving
off.  He pulled his arms free of the blankets and flung off the robe.
He grabbed the human and crushed him to his chest, breathing deeply
and silently with his face against Tom's throat.  The human could hear
the air rushing in and out of the other's lungs, could hear the pulse
rate double and triple so that it was almost a steady hum.

//Wow, guess the Doctor hit the formula bang-on.//

In a moment Tuvok rolled backward and lay spread-eagled on the bed,
eyes closed.  His chest rose and fell quickly, and Tom could see the
fever was bringing out a sweat across his body again.  Tom glanced
down toward his groin, and saw that the rage was on his companion in
full force.

//Let's see if I can help.//

He kissed Tuvok under his chin, then nibbled at both sides of his
neck.  Tuvok made a soft noise, so quietly Tom could hardly hear him.
But he saw Tuvok clenching his hands.

He began to work his way downward, heading inexorably toward what had
become the center of Tuvok's being.  He stopped long enough to tongue
each nipple, to trace the clear line of his sternum and pectoral
muscles with his tongue, to taste the smoothness of the other's skin
all the long length of that delicious torso.

Visions filled his head--buckets of chocolate mousse, sensuous mud
squishing between his toes, the mud baths on Risa that melted tension
and pain.  He licked at Tuvok's flat stomach, glorying in the
resistance of skin against tongue, listening to the soft rasp-rasp.
Excitement ignited in his own belly at the thought of what he was
doing to Tuvok.  He searched out one hipbone with his tongue, then the
other, nuzzled them with his nose.

Tuvok's hips were by now moving on their own, rhythmically pushing
back against the futon, then up against Tom's cheek. The human rested
his head briefly on Tuvok's stomach, and studied the other's *most*
interesting genitalia.

Tuvok was right, no question: he was built differently from Tom.  Tom
inhaled deeply as he watched the fascinating organ, similar yet
different from his own.  Larger, definitely greener, with that
enticing sheath and just the glistening head emerging at the end.

//Well, Tuvok could say it wasn't a foreskin, but it sure looked like
one.  Maybe he hadn't made a detailed study of male human anatomy.
That'd fit with his general reticence about sex,// Tom reflected.

He studied the ridges, now visible and growing larger, //much
larger,// he thought with a knot in his throat.

Tuvok seemed at last to rouse himself and sense what was going on:
Tom could perceive a consciousness there that had been missing for
some moments.  He turned his head to smile at Tuvok, and was pleased
to see the other's eyes were open.  Head resting on the pillow, he was
soundlessly watching Tom ease himself down his body.

Tom resettled himself on the bed more comfortably.  Eyes on Tuvok's
face, he placed his hands on Tuvok's groin and whispered, "This
better?"

No more than a half-nod from the other, but it was enough.

He leaned down for a first taste, but as his tongue found its home
Tuvok was hit by a spasm and twisted himself out of Tom's grasp. Both
gasped--Tuvok at the harsh scraping of Tom's teeth on his most
sensitive skin, Tom at the realization of what he'd done.

Again Tom tried to take his lover into his mouth, this time trying to
pin his legs in place with his own.  And again just as Tom made
contact, the stimulation caused Tuvok to fling Tom aside, this time
almost driving a knee into Tom's groin.

With some heat, Tom said, "You're going to have to relax.  This is
pretty tricky with you twisting around."  Tuvok gave no response.

A third time he made his approach, but as before, Tuvok writhed and
tossed him headlong before he was able to provide any kind of helpful
stimulation,

Abruptly he sat up and whirled around.  His fist connected neatly with
the point of Tuvok's chin.  Bonelessly Tuvok slumped backward, truly
at rest for the first time in probably a week. //Great,// thought Tom.
//I just cold-cocked a superior officer.  Wonder if pon farr counts as
extenuating circumstances in a court- martial...//

He drew himself together and eased off the bed, rubbing his own jaw
and mouth in sympathy.  Strong muscles in that Vulcan, no doubt about
it.

He rummaged in the drawer of the desk and found a small knife.
Palming it, he retrieved the sash to Tuvok's thick robe and drew it
out full length.  He eyed it up and down, and then he cut it into
three pieces, hoping each would be long enough.

He returned to the bed and ran one piece around each of Tuvok's hands.
He tied overhand loops with the loose ends so as to imprison the
Vulcan's wrists securely, then with square knots he tied Tuvok's
wrists to the bed frame.  As he worked he wondered whether the Fleet
furniture designers had had long tours of duty in mind when they
equipped bedsteads with a series of metal loops.

He repeated the maneuver for one foot, wishing he had another length
to secure the other foot.  //Well, I'll just have to hope he doesn't
kick me in the head, or anywhere else.// Tom sighed.

He stepped back and studied his trussed Vulcan.  //Doubt T'Pel ever
tried that one on him.//  He scratched his chin with one hand. //Then
again, doubt she needed to.  I will never again underestimate Vulcan
women.//

Tuvok was beginning to stir a bit, and as he came to he struggled
against the restraints.  He looked at Tom with an unreadable face.
Tom sat beside him and put one hand on his stomach.  "Tuvok, wherever
you are in there, you have got to understand.  You *can't* buck like
that or you'll hurt us both.  Me hitting a fellow officer is bad
enough.  I don't want to be the first person court- martialed for
biting off a fellow officer's penis. I doubt you want that, either."

Tuvok groaned gently, but there seemed to be a light of comprehension
in his eyes.

Tom leaned over and kissed Tuvok's lips.  Warmly, with care and
thoroughness.  "And *now,*" he whispered, "where were we?"

With the speed of a sidewinder he spun on the bed so that his face was
inches from Tuvok's groin.  Taking a deep breath and relaxing all his
muscles, he slid his mouth down, and down, and down.  He felt the heat
burst into his mouth, that silky satin skin.  What a lush world.  The
twin ridges sprang to life under his tongue, and he swirled his lips
around and around, celebrating the ridges' strength and purpose.

After a while he slowly tongued back the extra skin and felt Tuvok's
pelvis heave beneath him as he did so.  //*Now* we're in business.//
He let the sr'aal slide back into place, then repeated the movement.
And Tuvok pitched and twisted again, whispering words in Vulcan he
could not catch.

Tom flipped himself over Tuvok's legs so that he was kneeling astride
them, with his head toward Tuvok's, and so that Tuvok could see
precisely what he was doing.  With his hands he first traced Tuvok's
hipbones, then he braced himself on his elbows and cupped Tuvok's
balls.  He weighed them in his fingers, traced the luxurious texture
of the skin with his thumbs and forefingers.  The other was now a
whirling madness beneath him--excited beyond recall, driven by a power
fueled by racial memories.

Though Tuvok could get a purchase on the bed with only one foot, he
was still trying to rock himself free of Tom, of the madness, of the
wild currents that owned him.  But Tom kept his seat.

//Aha, now we're getting somewhere.  He was right--he needed more than
my ass.//

He put his whole mind and soul into the effort his mouth was making.
He willed his teeth out of the way, tried to use his tongue to buffer
their edges.  He cupped his hands under Tuvok's ass to give him
greater control and pressure, and let his fingers follow the warm
curves of skin, the powerful muscles he could feel working in time
with his mouth.  With total concentration he sucked, and sucked; he
drew his tongue along the sides, then the bottom, now the top of
Tuvok's cock, and still he did not come, still there was no release.

Suddenly he remembered a long-ago musician friend, who used to joke
about her conservatory's "aural skills" classes.  //Worth a try.// He
grasped Tuvok's hands in his, lifted his head, and whispered toward
the super-sensitive ears, "Fuck me, Tuvok, fuck me hard."  Then like
lightning he dropped his head and sucked one long, last, lingering
lick.

Tuvok erupted beneath him like a warp-core in cold start.  A tidal
wave of green flushed across him, and Tom saw him stiffen all over,
pulling on the restraints as hard as he could.

Relief and tiredness hit him like a one-two punch, as he watched Tuvok
convulse.  //Finally.  *That* was what he needed.//

And at last, when Tom had given up sensing anything through the bond
between them, he felt it sparkle like the landing lights in spacedock.
He heard a soft cry coming toward him from a distance and ending in a
sigh: //Ahhh, T'Pel,  jilad, jilad, t'hy'la, Tommmm.//

Exhausted, he toppled over next his companion and lay like the dead,
soaking up the peace and quiet with every pore.  Eventually it
occurred to him that he'd better untie his senior officer.  He sat up
with effort, and released Tuvok's foot and hands.  He didn't feel the
Vulcan stir, but the look set into his features was one of pain, pain
and grief.

Tom studied the still face--the long neck, the trim ears that lay flat
against his head, the broad bridge of his nose.  Long eyelashes,
sweeping against the dark-brown skin.  A gorgeous man, in control or
out of control.

A thought came to Tom.  He eased from the bed and retrieved a damp
cloth and a bowl from the bathroom.  Gently he washed Tuvok as clean
as he could--removed hours of sweat, come, and blood both green and
red.  He covered his lover with the blanket and slipped in beside him,
gently rolling him over so that Tuvok, in a dazed stupor, lay against
his chest, and Tom could park his chin on Tuvok's head.

Holding the body of his lover in the crook of his left arm, he put the
fingers of his right hand against the meld points, as he had seen and
felt Tuvok do.

After a moment he could feel a low hum along the bond, similar to the
background noise when Tuvok joined his thoughts on the planet below.
He could sense Tuvok's mind, though it was closed down in shock or
exhaustion, Tom couldn't tell which.  Strong sensations were coursing
through his head--grief, sadness, desire, surprise.  Surprise, to find
Tom there, searching for him.

Slowly, Tom began to mind-speak:

"The wee birdies sing, and the wild flowers spring,
and in sunshine the waters are sleeping,
But the broken heart it kens no second spring again,
though the woeful may cease from their greeting.

Oh, you take the high road, and I'll take the low road,
and I'll be in Scotland before you
But me and my true love will never meet again
on the bonny bonny banks of Loch Lomond..."

---

The End