Disclaimer: I don't own these characters, I don't own Enterprise, I don't own my house, I don't own my car, I don't own my pants. Where…are my pants? Trip…stop playing with the damn transporter...
Warnings: Sexual Content yeah, it's explicit so be warned. It's a graphic and it's sexual and it's dirty and hopefully it is hot as hell, but keep in mind, you have been warned.
I know I shouldn't
I know I shouldn't be here. I should let him rest. He's been through a lot really. I told myself the last time he disappeared that I wasn't going to believe anyone who ever told me Jon was dead. But the way Malcolm said it. The fact that it was Malcolm. That straight laced, unyielding man told me my best friend was dead and although I told myself not to believe it, even forced myself not to believe it in my heart I did. Malcolm wasn't lying or exaggerating in any way. I stand here now though, in the middle of the night. I need to see him. Need to know that he is alive, and he's just a door away from me, but part of me can't bring myself to ring the chime. I want him to sleep, but I want to sleep. I don't have any other reason to ring this bell. I don't have any reason to wake him up. No reason but my own twisted mind not able to sleep.
I move myself slowly back, having second thoughts when I hear a loud yip from the other side of the door. I groan a little. Porthos knows I'm here and now he's not going to let up until he gets a treat. At least I didn't start giving him cheese. I hear rustling and Jon's awake. I reach forward and gently press the chime. In for a penny in for a pound right?
I hear more movement before the door slides open and I feel my breath catch at the site of him. Jon. He's mussed from sleep, hair sticking out in several directions, eyes softly lowered in sleepiness and his sweatpants hanging low on his hips, not even tied. My stomach flips at the realization he probably wasn't wearing anything in bed and just threw those loose clothes on. "Trip?" He asks, voice concerned. His eyes take me in quickly and he steps to the side. He doesn't ask why I'm here, just knows I need to come in.
I walk in and sit in a chair heavily. I can't take my eyes off him. He's moving sluggishly. He's really tired. Porthos bounds up to me, tail wagging happily to see me despite the hour of the night. I give the pup a smile and Jon plops herself down on his desk chair, body slumping with tired motion. He waits. He thinks I need to talk. I don't have anything to say. It takes a long time for him to say something, his natural inclination to let me set the pace bending to his need for sleep. "What is it Trip?" He asks, voice gravely and tired.
"You're alive." I tell him. My world a little shaky as I stare at him with open honest eyes. "You're…alive."
He gives me a little smile because now he knows why I am here. He seems to understand more than I do. I don't even know what is happening, but Jon always does. He stands and walks over to the bed. "Computer. Lights to half" He stretches out in the bed, Porthos jumping onto the soft surface at the light tap of Jon's hand. "Turn the lights out when your done."
I watch him lay still for a long time. I watch him fall asleep. I watch him just sleep for hours, never feeling tired. I close my eyes, for what feels like a minute, but when I open them, the lights are still at half, and Jon is gone. I stand quickly stumbling and taking a deep breath. "Jon?" I hear the bathroom door swish open and he's there, still in his low slung pants. He give me a small smile and walks toward me, still sleepy but much more alive then me. He climbs back into bed and pats the surface, this time his eyes are on me, summoning me to the bed. "Lay down, you need a little sleep tonight."
I sit back down, my body tired but my mind suddenly unable to stop looking at him. I wonder why he's okay, why he doesn't see this as strange, but there I guess he can read my mind because he doesn't open his eyes as he talks. "You know after the shuttlepod, I didn't leave sick bay for two days." He shifts a little as Porthos shimmies next to his hips and I feel myself sink down sitting on the soft surface. He keeps talking. "After the dessert, I went every night till you were released. When you were in a coma…" He sighs softly, "It made it harder to find something that reminded me you were alive." His eyes open then, sleepy but clear green hazel boring into me. "I understand."
I feel myself lay down. I reach out my hand, not sure really where it is going until it lands on Jon's bare chest. He's warm. His heartbeat is strong and his chest moves in steady breathing. I feel my eyes close, suddenly very heavy. "You're alive." I say again, not really sure why, but it doesn't matter. I'm slipping into sleep slowly, and as my mind becomes softly black I feel his hand on mine and the warm fingers squeeze mine.
I fall asleep, the thrumming of his heart sending me to a sweet, calm and dreamless sleep.
The next night I don't go back. I want to. But I don't. I let myself stay away, toss and turn in sleeplessness. When I do sleep I dream of Jon getting blown up, or being gutted or dying in some horrible brutal way. My best friend bleeding, laying motionless on the floor or his body twisted and broken in a heap at my feet. I feel like I did when Lizzy died. A helplessness. But he's alive. I tell myself he's still alive and but it doesn't seeming to work. The night after that, I don't sleep a wink. I work at my desk, unwilling to have those dreams again. The third night, while the clock still reads early enough I grab a recording of the newest water polo game I can find, I happen to find one of Stanford, I am lucky. This time when I ring the Captain's charm he answers with a call for me to enter.
I give him a little smirk and show him the little vid chip, wiggling it in the air. He smiles at me, and gives a soft laugh. He knows I haven't slept but that doesn't matter. So it's beer and water polo and I love the sound of his voice as he talks to the players that certainly can't hear him. When it's over I hope that it will be enough for me to sleep. I think I know that it isn't. I want to stay. Jon moves his seat in turning his computer back to some work he needs to complete. I smile and nod, standing in to leave when he speaks. "Why don't you keep me company. Kick back and stay a while."
He doesn't look at me but I know he is saying it because I need it. "I think I need to hit the hay, I'm a little wiped out" I tell him, moving to leave.
"Take a load off Trip." He uses my name, glancing up at me and then to the bed. "You need some sleep." I nod and move to his bed, sitting easily. As I lean back the Captain's voice is all humor and some seriousness "just don't be getting your dirty shoes all over my bed." I smile and kick them off, my tired body laying down. I fall asleep easily to the sound of his fingers beeping softly on the screen, as well as his voice, recording his Captain's log.
I wake up, sometime in the middle of the night, very hot and very alone. I sit up, disoriented and sweaty. I pull off my shirt, breathing hard. I didn't have a nightmare, but I guess I'm just not used to sleeping in my clothes. I push off the offending garment and take deep breaths. I let myself fall back down in a huff of hot air. "What the hell?" I hear myself call to my empty quarters, but that is when I realize that these aren't my quarters and they aren't empty.
"The environmental controls are malfunctioning" I hear Jon's voice answer and I realize I'm not just hot from sleep, I'm overly hot from a hot room.
"No Shit Cap'n" I groan, rolling out of the bed with as my bones pop back into place. "Lemme see." My voice is thick with sleep as I shimmy closer to the older man, not at all ashamed of being in nothing but my Starfleet issue blues. I lean in towards his heat to look in the panel. I lick my dry lips and I see the problem right away. I move easily through the circuitry, almost moving without thinking. I click the loose errant wiring into a bypass and smile as the vent above me releases sweet cool air.
I smirk at Jon's groan of satisfaction. He leans his head back and fans his chest with his loose shirt. He gives up after a few motions peeling the fabric off his body and discarding it as he leaned against the wall beneath the vent. His breath comes in long luxurious breaths as his chest glistens in the low lighting. I can't deny how attractive he is like this. His body is very alive. His muscle move his chest take in the blessedly cool air. He has a soft smile on his face, tender on his features. "Much better," he groans kicking off the wall and heading back to the bed.
I consider for a moment leaving before I watch him shuck off his pants and clad in nothing but tight blue boxers drops himself of the bed. I watch him, the length of him stretched out against the bright red sheets, sweaty skin, rippling muscle. He's beautiful. I've never really thought that about a man like that before. I walk back to the bed and am overwhelmed with a strange sensation. I hesitate for a minute. Maybe I should go. I watch Jon's eyes open body cooling easily in the newly moving air. He decides for me, reaching out, grabbing my arm and pulling me down rolling onto his back as he closes his eyes but keeps my hand on his chest. I can feel his heart beat through my fingers. I can feel his chest moving with each breath I can feel his hot slick skin. He doesn't say anything to me as I stare at him. He knows. He knows what I'm feeling and even I don't know. I tell him 'thank you' with my eyes as I move to make myself more comfortable. He doesn't say anything. He closes his eyes, leaving me to shut out the lights when I've seen enough.
I limp a little as I walk back to my quarters. I'm very tired, but the Doctor released me far sooner than I anticipated. I'm not hurt that badly. The fall wasn't really that bad, just scary. I remember Jon diving, hand reaching out to mine and touching my finger tips. He touched them. Wrapped around them, and then slipped. I slipped. All those times Jon caught me and this one time he missed. I fell. I remember the look on his face. It wasn't that far, wasn't that deep, not really, but the sickening crack of my leg when I hit the bottom echoed in the small space. That's when I blacked out. I woke up in sickbay, Jon over me as Phlox explained I'd be just fine. I remember seeing the guilt in Jon's face. He dropped me, and he wouldn't let me forget it anytime soon.
I let myself into my quarters and didn't bother to get out of my clothes, I just plopped myself into my made bed with a groan and a deep sigh. Sleep is a beautiful thing. I am woken from my deep sleep by the chime on my door. I am too tired and too unwilling to stand on my leg to get out of the bed at the moment so when the chime rings again I call the lights on and tell whoever it is to come on in. I open my blurry eyes and look out as I hear my door slide open and wait for the person to appear at the end of my bunk. I think for a moment it might be Phlox come to check on me, Hess giving me an update, or maybe T'Pol, but no, iIt's Jon. "Hey Cap'n" I greet, my words a little slurred from sleep and probably the pain medication.
He stands there, looking at me with eyes that I don't really recognize other than from a mirror. I understand, right now I understand more than anyone else possibly could. I also know that he needs more than just watching me. He needs more than just watching me sleep or knowing I'm alive. He needs to grab me and hold on. He needs to keep me from falling. I push myself up against the far wall turning gingerly onto my side and I pat the bed silently. He walks to me, body slack with defeat as he leans down, crawling into the small space I've made for him. He wraps his arms around me, partly because the small space almost requires it, but I think also because he can't stand not to. He holds me to him, body warm and alive, and I can feel his heart racing as he holds me.
"Wanna talk about it?" I ask, voice soft in the dark, mostly because I know this man. This man needs to talk, he talks to his dog for god's sake, so unlike me, there is probably something he needs to say.
His arms stay tight and I can feel the rumble of his deep voice in his chest more than I can hear it. "I'm sorry."
"There is nothing for you to be sorry for Cap'n" I tell him, eyes closed as my sleep tired arms weakly squeeze him.
He talks into my hair, his voice rough. "I let you fall."
"You can't always catch me. Sometimes I have to fall, or I'll never learn" I give a little chuckle and squeeze him tighter, "besides I fall far too often for you to save my ass everytime."
He gives a little laugh and I feel the air huff out his nose into my hair. It feels nice. Being in Jon's arms feels nice. It feels safe and secure which is strange because for years on this ship I haven't felt anything like this. Anything like safe or secure. We lay like that for a long time just together and it feels nice. I fall asleep like that, comfortable and safe.
At some point I'm pulled from sleep by movement. Jon is moving. Trying to leave. I pull him back, nuzzling my nose into his neck. He stops moving and I hear his voice call for the lights to go out. He's going to stay. I don't know if he needed to go, wanted to go, or just thought he should offer to go, but truthfully I want him to stay, need him to stay, so I just hold on.
It's not like we really planned it that way, it just happened after that, we ended up spending a lot of time in the same bed at night. I found myself heading to Jon's quarters late in the evening after tossing and turning without reward, only to find him either in the same state or almost waiting for me to turn in. I tell myself I go to him because the two of us squished into my bunk isn't really comfortable. I tell myself it is because he's the Captain and he should be on call in his quarters where everyone expects him to be. I tell myself I go because I don't want Porthos to get lonely. I don't acknowledge that if I don't go, I'm terrified he won't seek me out and I'll spend the night alone again.
Tonight seems like any other night, but something must have put more pressure on Jon then usual because even with me in the room he's having trouble settling down. He tosses and turns a few times and tried to get comfortable. I know he's prone to insomnia as much as me and I wonder if maybe me being here doesn't help him at all, and maybe I should go. Maybe I should bury my own urge to stay here and just crawl back into my cold and lonely bed. It's more important Jon gets sleep then me anyway. He is the Captain. He's my Captain. He's my best friend, and suddenly I am struck by how wrong this is. Being in his bed. Being so close I can feel his heat. Needing him like this.
He lets out a long sigh of frustration and rolls toward me. I can feel him looking at me. Usually it doesn't bother me. He does it a lot really. It's why he lets this happen afterall. So he can see me and remember I'm alive. He whispers something, and in the back of my sleepy mind I vaguely understand it as my name, but it takes a moment for me to work up the ability to give him a grunt in response.
"Mind if I hold you?" He asks, voice soft but seeking. I find the question odd. He's held me before, a few times in fact. I guess that was after my hand slipped. After he had to hold on. This seems different, asking permission. I can't wrap my brain around why but I don't mind so I give him a grunt of assent and he wraps his warm arms around me. He chases away the chill of the recycled air, along with the worry that weighed on my chest and I feel his breath in my hair. It's nice. It's soft. It's warm. It's comforting. I fall asleep again easily.
It's late in the evening, and I'm reading, just something to entertain me, I've had enough of reports for them moment and I need to relax a bit. I'm stretched out on Jon's bed, the energetic pup he loves so much curled beside me. I'm not really paying mind to anything around me, but something begs my attention, so I glance up. He's watching me. I'm not sure he knows he's doing it. But he is. Jon's bright green eyes are hard for me to read. It's odd because if you asked me a few months ago, I could tell you just about exactly what he was thinking most of the time, but right now, he seems guarded and cryptic. His eyes are focused on my hand buried in Prothos' soft fur.
It takes him a moment, but he stops himself. His breath hitching slightly, eyes flicking quickly back to his screen. He seemed nervous about being caught, but I can't tell if he caught himself, or if it was being caught by me.
I'm not quite asleep, something is keeping me up and I can't place what. I turn over and watch Jon's peaceful face. He's younger in his sleep, softer, and somehow more perfect. I feel the need to touch him, to feel him. Not to know he's alive, not to know he's alright. I don't feel simple concern for him. I want to touch him. I want to feel him. It doesn't take long before I realize what is keeping me up. The older man's peaceful state isn't consistent. The façade breaks as he stretches slowly with a groan of pain and shifts. I can hear a sigh of satisfaction when the bones in his back give a loud solid pop. I slide closer, reaching out a hand to touch his warm skin beneath the soft blue cotton before I even know what I am doing. I let my fingers move easy, digging into his soft flesh and tone muscles. I move slowly and feel a tight knot of his strained shoulders under his warm skin.
I push a little harder and hear a soft delicious sigh come from him. I don't think I've ever been more turned on by a sound in my life. I feel a little shock run down my spine, and push again at the spot, moving my palm wide over the muscle and kneading with my fingertips. I feel him shift, his breath becoming less steady as sleep rushes away from him and he lets out a moan.
I feel my heart pound. What am I doing? I stop pushing, my fingers stilling and pulling away from his warmth with a slow hesitation. Shit. That's when I hear him. His sleep gravely voice in the form of a groan as he slides a little more onto his belly, not away from me so much as offering himself to me. "Don't stop"
I tremble because that's exactly what I want to hear him say. I let my hand return to his back and move my other hand to work the muscle as well. I find myself sitting up in order to get the right angle and begin a more serious exploration of the man's back. He lets out another groan, a sound that I was surprised to realize I wanted to hear again. I'm curious to know what it takes for him to make noise. I feel him move under me, stretching with a languid sleepy move that moves the muscles beneath my fingers. It's strange, to feel the strength of it, the hard edges of tone muscle beneath skin and thin cotton. I wonder what the rest of him feels like as I push a little harder, fingertips beginning with strong firm circles over taught muscle.
His breath comes from him in a slow exhale that turns to a moan and I feel him move again, rolling flat onto his stomach and offering me the full expanse of his muscle, face in the pillow his breathing still thick with sleep. I lean up and work my way across his body, trailing over those tight tone muscles in admiration. He's warm, his back is smooth and I can feel the wide shoulders trailing down to a narrow waist. I move lower, rubbing into the curve of his lower back and I glance up instantly distracted.
He let out a moan, one, that buried in the pillow the way it is has an immediate effect on my body. I can't help but imagine him just a little more naked, ass pulled into the air and his moan a little louder as I sink inside him. God. I've never really thought of a man that way and yet right now, I can't think of anything but him. My hands go lower without me realizing it and suddenly my thumbs are making small circles below the invisible line that separates the small of his back from his ass.
I realize now, that even though I know I'm crossing a line, I can't stop myself. Don't want to stop myself. I feel my hands creep lower, no longer rubbing as much as exploring. His sounds have changed, getting just a little deeper. I stop for a moment, stilling my hands over the soft swell of his ass. I think I feel him move, and at the moment I feel my heart skip a beat. His ass pushed up into my hands. I feel my hands immediately respond in a soft caress, and I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding.
He moves faster then I thought he could, or maybe my brain just can't comprehend the world as it struggles to understand the tightening in my underwear or the shiver in my spine. Either way I feel him. His weight shifting and then he's there. His lips are on mine, with all the pent up energy that I know Jonathan Archer possesses. His lips are so warm, so soft against mind, and yet he's pressing into me desperately. His hands are buried in my short hair, our bodies slightly twisted as he takes utter control of me.
His tongue pushes into my mouth, his lips are soft but insistent, tongue warm and wet and twisting. He's forceful but somehow not in the way that is pushing me. It's hard to describe. It's like I can taste his urgency, his burning, his passion and I can't help but respond. It compares to no kiss I've ever had before. I am usually the aggressor, and yet suddenly, I want nothing but to feel his tongue on mine. One hand travels down my neck and shoulder, sending a shiver of anticipation down my spine. I feel my heart pound as his hand moves even lower, caressing my bare side, down and over the swell of my ass before he pulls and we end up crushed together.
Oh god, he can feel my erection. I'm hard and hot and now I'm pushed solidly into his soft stomach and I feel a rush of embarrassment. Then I realize I can feel his erection. He is burning hot on my thigh and after the slight shock I surge into the kiss. I suck his tongue and my hands pull at the soft cotton covering his chest. There are too many clothes. I need him naked. I want him naked and I don't even really know what to do with him once he is.
I kiss him until the moment I realize I need to breath and I reluctantly pull my lips from him to suck in a lungful of air. "Shit Jon.." I hear myself say, panting to get more air with him so close to me. I look at him, his eyes so bright and sparkling green in the low star light, his hair a tangled mess, his lips swollen temporarily from kissing me. Me. Oh god damn he kissed me. "Shit…" I say again, staring at his lips. My best friend. "You kissed me"
"You were molesting my ass…" He says, a little smirk on his lips.
I guess I was. I look down at him, eyes focusing on his tenting clothes. "You didn't seem to mind."
He smiles wide before claiming my lips again, pushing me down onto his soft bed, and pushing himself over me. His tongue is in my mouth again, his hands on my bare skin and I feel suddenly hot and overly stimulated. My brain seems swimmy in my head and he is all I can focus on. His hands burning hot trails across my skin, his finger touching me firm and yet gentle. He doesn't tickle in the slightest as he ghosts across my ribs. He makes my body arch against my better judgment. I feel like he is molding me like putty.
I feel like I need to do something as I reach into his tenting underwear and grip his hard length in my tight hand. He gasps and one hand moves to brace himself above me. I love that look on his face. Eyes closed, mouth open, shoulder muscles almost trembling. He's so overloaded with the simplest touch and I want to make him look like that as much as I possibly can. I run my fingers over him, smooth and silky skin over solid heat and I give him a tug. He's big. I knew he was large, I'd seen him naked before, but I have never seen him hard, not like this.
I claim his lips again, and use my hand in his pants as well as a little shove to his shaky shoulder to take control. I roll him onto his back and suck his tongue into my mouth. He's so warm. So delicious and so much more responsive than I could have ever imagined. I discover quickly that with each muffled moan that I swallow I know I want to hear it. I release his mouth and watch him lay back beneath me stretching out as I tug on him in earnest.
I rock my hand against his hard hot cock, tug and pull and spread the leaking liquid from the tip down his length. "Oh, Damn, Trip" He says arching up against me, his mouth falling open and letting out a long run of a moan I never imagined him capable of. I lay myself over him, digging my straining cock into his hip bone, begging for friction as I cover his body with mine. I lean down and taste his neck, my lips and tongue feasting on salty flesh.
The most erotic part however is the way he moves against me. He's wiggling, like he can't possibly keep still with my hand around him, and he's moaning, those wonderful deep sounds that are now right in my ear and those dirty little hands of his won't leave me alone. How am I supposed to enjoy the feel of him, the taste of him, when he's driving me so crazy?
I push lower, licking at the tan hallow of his neck but his shirt stops me from reaching his chest. It's not fair. We aren't even naked and I swear I could come if he asked me to.
I break the contact of our skin and I feel a bit more sane, as if the cool air can finally touch me when he isn't tainting me. I lean back on my heels pulling my hand away and inching back on my knees. I smirk at the look on Jon's face. He is so annoyed. "Don't you dare stop…" He breathes, voice rough and perfect. I know he wants me. He could eat me alive right now. Hell…I'd let him.
My only response is to slide off him and off the bed completely. I stand in the star light, I know I'm sweaty and although I've never been vain, I thank god for Starfleet training. I know I'm trim, I'm in the best shape of my life and I want Jon to want to touch me. I push my underwear off, pulling it up and around the standing proof of my arousal and let them drop to the floor. The air is cold compared to the temperature of our bodies but I stand still as he looks his fill. His intense green eyes are making me want to move but I don't. I want to wait for him, but I think we both know I could never wait him out.
I break into a smile and reach out to grab his long lean legs. I wrap my fingers around him and yank. I pull him easily to the edge of the bed and he lets me manhandle him as I strip him. I have him naked in no time, leaning back on the bed with a satisfied smirk across his face. Jon is so confident. He knows he's attractive, I have to tell him anyway. "God you're hot," I say as I claim his lips, fingers immediately moving across his exposed flesh. I have to feel him. All of him. Any part of him. I just need to now. He pulls me down into his lap with a fluid strength that surprises me although it shouldn't, I chalk that up to having only slept with women. Although sometimes strong, none of them felt like this. The truth of the matter, I find, is that I don't care. I don't really know what I'm doing, but Jon seems to enjoy it and I have been told I am good with my hands.
He spins me around rolling me back up on the bed so he can slide over me, Our bodies fit together, our breathing harsh he licks at my ear and his hands roam with intent. Well one hand. Where is his other hand? I hear drawers rustling and then his weight shifts and he's kissing me. "I really want to fuck you" he whispers hot against my lips, his hand moving down and pulling my ass into his wide palm. His voice is sexy, worshiping me with his fingers rather than the words. I've never been one to just fuck for fucks sake, but hell, right now, Jon could get me to build him a warp 7 engine from scratch if he promised to make me come.
I know I'm smiling, grinning, looking like a complete fool and I don't even know how he is going to fit inside me. I don't really know how to make this work, and suddenly I don't have to think because Jon's hand from my ass has slid between my cheeks and it is slick and wet with something I can only assume is lube, but by the time I figure that one out his finger is in me. I can't help but feel my body tense and clench involuntarily. Things aren't really meant to get in there that way. It's not entirely uncomfortable, that finger. It's odd and it's different and I feel my eyes widen as I trace patterns on the ceiling with my gaze. For just a moment I feel the fear and the anxiety of Jon's declaration course through me. Am I really ready to have that monster of a cock deep inside me? I suddenly realize that I want it because Jon wants it.
I trust him with anything, with my life, with my body, with my heart. I feel it bubble inside me as he slips another finger in. Now there is a little burn as they push in past my still slightly reluctant muscle. My breath quickens and I close my eyes. Shit. Everything pushes out of me as his fingers move and I'm overwhelmed by the uncomfortable sensation. It's not necessarily painful as of yet but it isn't…it isn't what I thought this would be.
I feel him still over me and in me and around me. He's so, oddly still. Then his fingers are gone. I take a deep breath before I open my eyes. He's looking down at me, so raw and soft and kind. He's worried. I know because I know Jon and I know that look. "Trip…You ever done this before?"
His voice is so soft, so calm and understanding. He doesn't need me to answer which I am glad for since I'm still a little out of breath and a little shaken by his fingers inside me. He pulls back a little, guilt slamming into his bright green eyes, turning them dull and distant in an instant. "I'm sorry" He whispers, backing off quickly and breaking that delicious contact with my skin. "We…we don't have to…I" He's back peddling faster than I can follow.
It takes me untill he's sitting up to even realize he is gonna stop. "No..No…don't…I don't want you to stop." I tell him, reaching out and grabbing at him desperately. I crush my lips with his and crawl back into his lap, but his hands are not wrapping around me, or pulling me close. Shit…Oh shit I messed this up. He doesn't want to do this with me…That feeling when he told me he wanted me. That heat and security and lightness in my chest sinks like a brick into my stomach. He breaks our kiss and I can't bring myself to look at him. We're both breathing hard but he isn't moving.
I did it wrong. I messed it up before it even began? My overactive imagination is moving a mile a minute. This can't end well. Even if it worked for a while. It all started with the threat of death and it could always end that way and yet I want nothing more than to give him what he wants. I don't even care if I enjoy it or if I don't. I want to feel him come, I want to hear him moan, see him as nothing but a pile of motionless goo after he's come. I want him. I want him in so many ways. Oh shit. Oh fucking shit. I glance up and I wonder if he sees it. Sees in my eyes that all I care about is him. Everything comes down to a point, one point. Him. I love him. Shit…oh shit. That's why I want to touch him so much. Taste him. Stay with him. Sleep with him. I want to breathe him.
"It's okay…" He whispers, although I can see from his face he doesn't know what I'm thinking, not this time. All he sees is that I am terrified to the bone. And yeah, I am terrified. But not the way he thinks. My heart is pounding in my ears and I don't want him to finish that sentence so I don't let him.
I lean forward, grabbing his face with both my hands. I kiss him. Tongue seeking, touching, pushing with sweetness. I'm still hot, heated to the core and I pour some of it into him like liquid candy, sweet and sticky. I crave him already and I wish he would crave me like he did just a moment ago. I wrap him up in my arms confidently. At this point it's all or nothing. I'm already in it to my elbows. I know what I want and it's him. He kissed me I remind myself. He pined me to the bed. He put his fingers up my ass. He wanted to fuck me. "Tell me" I ask, breaking our kiss and looking straight into his hot green eyes. "Show me." I push myself against him. Fitting myself into him and pushing my body into his. "I can do it… I want to do it… I just need you to show me how…"
Jon's arms wrap around me, tone and warm and strong as he kisses my temple tenderly. As he opens his mouth to say something I pull him to my lips again, I force him to connect with me. If we've just shattered our friendship for one night together, by god I want this night to be fan-fucking-tastic. I kiss him again. I don't want to let him get the upper hand. I don't want him to stop thinking about the heat between us. He feels so good. So smooth and warm and hot. I reach down and wrap my hand around him again. He's still hard. Very hard. I tug gently moving my hand in a smooth rhythm across his slick flesh. His lips push away, his voice struggling against the pleasure my hand is sending through him. "Trip..."
I feel my heart sink at the indecision and I have to remind myself he wants me. He said so. His hands are helping, gripping my hips within and inch of his control. I decide to tempt fate. "Fuck me Jon…please…I want to feel you." I literally feel him twitch in my hand and I feel myself harden at my own words. It might be because they are true. I do want him to fuck me. Badly.
He kisses me again. Lips hard and hungry as he invades my mouth and covers my body with his again. He's so warm. So perfect against me. He makes my head dizzy and my body scream for him. He's softer this time, his hands gentle on my body, lips warm as he caresses me, and then slides down. He kisses my chest, my stomach and lower. I don't have time to think before his hot wonderful mouth takes me in.
God does that feel good. I must say something out loud because I feel Jon chuckle, I feel it vibrate up my length and I feel his hands explore my trembling thighs. Part of me wants to come right there. Just like this, my body a puddle of goo and at the complete mercy of this amazing man. I can feel my chest rise and fall in the infinity of breathing that although I know I must do, I simply would rather concentrate on the pleasure as it rushes over my nerve endings. God, I can't believe Jon's is actually sucking me off, and even more I can't believe how good it feels.
This time, when he slips a slick finger inside me, he is gentle and slow. He lets me out of his mouth with a pop from his hallow sucked cheeks and slides up to nuzzle my belly. His voice is nothing but a sultry rumble against my skin when he speaks and it turns me on even more. "Relax, you'll be just fine, I promise."
I know to trust him and I think my body trusts him even more than my conscious mind. I feel myself relax a little, the feeling of his soft lips and even his eyelashes fluttering against my belly with his soft kisses makes my heart flip a little. That is until his seeking finger crooks and in one second all ideas of things outside my body cease and all I can feel is a rush of heat through my spine. I know my head is thrown back and I'm moaning, but for the life of me I don't know why. I buck against the probing finger and feel it stroke the spot again which drives my breath away. It's good. Really good. Maybe I could get used to this. Suddenly I realize there is a second finger in me, and although I feel more full, it is gentle and patient and careful this time.
I struggle to breath through the rush of sensation as he strokes again and again. Now I know why he stopped using his mouth. If he were even touching my straining erection I think I would come like a teenager. I pant and feel the slight burn of a stretch as he adds another finger, but he is slow and soft and gentle as he rubs that spot again and I can't keep still I can't stop wiggling. His other hand caresses my thigh and as I move it to meet his seeking fingers I feel myself shake. God. I'm shaking, I'm trembling under him and I think those sounds echoing in the room might be me.
"Shit Jon…" I whisper, lost in the feel of him as his three finger rock and twist into me. I want something more, I want to come. "Jon…More please…" My voice sounds silly to me, weak and deep and struggling for something. I don't sound like myself at all.
I hear him chuckle as he slides back and I am suddenly cold and empty and I never thought I'd say this but I really can't wait to feel my best friend pound me. He slides back from me sitting up and my mind clears enough to look up at him. He is gorgeous, sculpted and tone leaning over me. His chest slightly hairy, body slightly sweaty. He's glowing with warmth and flushed with heat. His hips are fit between my legs and I give in to the urge to slide my legs up and rub them against him. I just want to feel him. Need to feel him. I love the slide of his hip bones, jutting out and angling down to the hard swollen cock that juts from between his legs. He's so hard that I can't help but feel, I don't know, proud maybe?
He smiles down at me, eyes roaming over my naked body, taking just a moment to admire me. I feel like I should be preening, but all I can do is breathe and take a moment to reel myself back. I want to feel him, I don't want to blow everything to soon.
He breaks me out of my admiration of his body with a soft slap to my outer thigh as he smirks down at me. "Turn over" he commands, voice firm and gravely and completely sexy. I feel a little flutter of nervous butterflies in my stomach as I flip myself over and offer my prepared ass to the man kneeling behind me. Shit, I should not find this as hot as I do. Jon slides a pillow up under my chest and I feel his soft hands rub comforting circles on my thighs. "Relax, remember to breath." He tells me, a softer command but a command none the less.
I feel myself tense at the knowledge of what's about to happen. I can't help it. It doesn't matter, Jon's patient. I feel his slick length press softly into the muscle surrounding my entrance, patient as he rubs soft circles on my hips with his thumbs, waiting and wiggling a little as I struggle to relax. It takes a moment, but eventually I feel him slickly push inside me. "God Damn your big…" I breathe before I can think to sensor myself. I only say it cause it's true. He's thick and despite the careful attention Jon has given me there is a slightly uncomfortable burn as his thick head stretches me so far open I don't know if I can do this.
But Jon is still, I feel myself adjust and suddenly it isn't bad at all and I feel him slide a little farther, a little deeper and I struggle to breath. Oh damn I should breathe but I can't help the overwhelming feeling as he slowly inches deep inside me. I feel like I'm on fire and I'm so full, so completely full. I grip the pillow tight under my chest, forehead leaned on the soft sheets as I strain to push back onto the thick intruder with my trembling thighs.
The thick strong fingers grip my hips tight, stilling me as I hear Jon's voice, strained and struggling for control "Trip…" He almost gasps, hands tugging at me. "God…your so…tight" He's holding me still. Like any moment he's gonna blow and the thought that I can do that to him makes me rush with power. I am not sure if I should, but I don't really think of it before I squeeze.
He gasps and I feel his hips involuntarily jerk inside me, driving him hard the last few inches into me. I let out a long moan and the hot sensation of him fully buried inside me. He stops and waits. His body warmly invading mine and I pant into the bed. I feel him fold over me a little, the weight of his body lying flush against me. The connection is electric, hot and I swear that I could die happy just like this.
Then he's moving, thrusting slowly, deeply, stroking me with gentle deep movements. I didn't think it could get better. But it can. Sensation piling on sensation. He's moving, Filing me and stretching me and every inch of him stroking me on the inside and it's like nothing I've ever felt before and at the same time it is everything I've ever dreamed of. His touch, his movement, his body moving with me, it's somehow perfect. I'm boiling hot on the inside and his body sinking into mine feels so good…so good I don't notice I'm thrusting back.
We're pounding together, pushing and pulling and slamming together without finesse. It's just sensation and pleasure and skin on skin and sweat and heat and slickness. I don't know where I am anymore, all I care about is those hands, on my hips, on my ass, sliding up my back and around to my chest, raking across my nipples and down my shuddering abs. My arms are shaking with my dead weight. I need to feel more of him. I whimper as his hand closes around my rock hard cock. He pulls me and I know I'm close. I arch underneath him, body trembling as he pulls me again and I loose myself.
Little slices of pain shiver up my spine and every muscle pulls tight in my body as I explode into Jon's hand. Sticky and hot and tight his hand milks me as I squeeze him inside me. I whimper deep in my throat, face buried into the soft mattress as scream into the fabric, a vocal release that mirrors my body's explosion as everything floats, everything stops, everything shivers into a tiny little ball and bounces about in my brain. Through my spinning haze of pleasure I feel myself filling with hot thick liquid and in the back of my mind I know it's Jon coming inside me.
I come back to myself, panting and struggling for air, my knees slid out and my spent hips settled heavy to the mattress. I realize my back is a little cold. I open my blurry eyes but Jon isn't to my right. I struggle to move my head, which feels like it's filled with lead. Jon is just to my left, his face slack with exhausted and pleasure. His body limp and haphazardly tumbled into a heap next to me. I smile, I can't help it. I pull myself up onto jello like arms and gather the man against me. I pant softly as his body unravels and wraps itself around me, his lips sliding up and brush against my neck.
I don't know what to say right now. I want to tell him that I love him. I want to tell him that I want to do this for as long as I can. Although I've never considered myself a coward, and there has never been anything I can't tell Jon, I know somewhere in my heart this is different. After what we just did. I could have just ruined his career, cost him Enterprise, cost him this mission. If I say those three words, will it change this? I want it to. I want him. No matter the price. I'm willing to pay it but is he?
"Your quiet…" Jon whispers, his voice soft as if he's holding his breath.
"I'm not sure…what to say." I respond dipping my nose into his hair and smelling the strong scent from him.
He moves up, pulling his hair from me and meeting my eyes with his bright green ones. "Wanna try with why your having second thoughts?" He asks, his finger rubbing my back in slow luxurious circles.
"I'm not…" I stop as his eyebrows raise. He knows me so well, that I can't lie, or bend the truth, not like I have in the past with girlfriends. I lift a hand to touch his face, tracing the line of his jaw with one fingertip, the movement intimate and sweet and still strange for me. He leans into it for just a second. Eyes flickering down. "I don't know…" God I'm no good at this, I sigh and just kiss him. My lips on his is still so new, so warm and so electric and so perfect and I don't want to give it up or give it back. I don't want to go back to my cold and lonely bunk and not have this to return to. Even if it was just sleeping again. Maybe that would be okay…maybe some of the time. "I love you" Oh wait…that wasn't what I was going to say.
His eyes close and he leans closer to me, his check to mine, lips next to my ear. "Say it again…"
I slide my nose up the shell of his ear and feel him shiver against me. "I love you Jon." I repeat, my arms tightening, instinctively trying to keep him close to me. "That is all I know…is that I love you, in a way I really shouldn't." I lean down, lips sliding along his collar bone and feeling his stubble against my own, an odd and not entirely off-putting sensation. "Whatever you decide, if you need to stop this, or if you want to pretend it never happened…I understand."
"No" He whispers, finger curling in my hair and pulling me back to look in his eyes, sharp and intense. "I never want to forget this, or ignore this…" His lips brush mine, his mouth breaking into a humor filled smile. "and I am far too head over heels for you to possibly consider stopping this. Ever."
I feel my heart flutter. He's head over heels for me. He loves me? I know that we just did something very physical to prove that, but we seem to be stumbling into this with actions before words and suddenly the words are really important. "Tell me…"
There is a long silence, one that pulls at me like thick ropes, I meet Trip's sparkling blue eyes with mine and feel a tightness in my chest. It's been so long since I have wanted to tell him this. I have known him for so long. I know I shouldn't feel this way. I shouldn't love my best friend. I shouldn't love my Chief Engineer. I shouldn't love any one on the my ship. I'm the Captain and I can't be close to anyone. I'm the Captain and I shouldn't love him. I know I shoudn't. But I do.
Even after so much time with him right next to me, in my arms, and even in my bed and I still couldn't bring myself to tell him. Even after feeling him, being completely with him I feel my heart struggling at such a simple confession. Telling him, even after he's told me is still difficult. Like finally letting go of the secret will cause some horrible cosmic backlash. But it's the truth so I have tell him. But it doesn't matter now, because right or wrong I want it. Right or wrong I'm going to have this, I'm going to be happy, going to make him happy. For the next fifty years or the next fifty days if that's all we have left.
"I love you" Even though I know I shouldn't.