Title: LAST TANGO IN PARIS

Author: A. Kite (Akite68163@aol.com)

Codes: C/P (P/K?)

Series: None, part 1/1

Rating: NC-17

Warning: this is a slash story with explicit descriptions of m/m sex, if that might offend you , or if you're under 18, please read no further.

Disclaimer: Star Trek: Voyager and the characters belong to Paramount. This story belongs to me. No money being made. No copyright infringement is intended.

Summary: Chakotay thinks back to he and Tom's Maquis days or nights, rather. The story takes place very early in the series during the episode Parallax.

Archiving: Permission given to ASC/EM, Slashville and to my own webpage: www.oocities.org/tlin_s/a_kite.html All others please ask first.

Comments, feedback and constructive criticism are welcome and always answered.

Thanks to BJCochran for the title and the beta. Any remaining mistakes are mine. My apologies to anyone that may have used this title before. I heard that there was another story
with this title, but was not able to located it on the web. It was not my intention to steal it.


LAST TANGO IN PARIS
A. Kite (March 2000)

The newly instated Starfleet Commander and First Officer of Voyager stretched out on the bed in his new quarters and tried to relax enough to sleep. At least the bed was bigger and much more comfortable than his old one on The Liberty. His recently broken leg still ached even
though that holographic doctor had knitted the bones back together.

His healing broken leg brought Chakotay to the subject he was trying to avoid thinking about. Tom Paris. He closed his eyes and went back to the last time he saw Tom. If I had only known then that night would be our last, I would have, hell, I don't know, made it more special. Been
more gentle and considerate. Come on, Chakotay, he didn't want gentle and considerate and neither did you. Fucking Tom Paris was anything but. It was passionate and wild, the best sex I've ever had, bar none, but it was never gentle.


Chakotay had lay in wait for his pilot to come by on his way to his own bunk, just three doors down from the captain's. He had snagged Tom by the arm, pulling him into his quarters as he was passing by. The door slid shut behind them, and Chakotay pressed Tom against it.

"Cha..." was all Tom was able to get out before his captain stopped his protest with a hard kiss. Chakotay pried Tom's lips apart and ravished his mouth. When lack of air drove him to retreat, he asked, "You wanted to say something, Paris?"

Tom only gasped for air and shook his head 'no'.

"Good. I didn't want you to go on that mission tomorrow without a proper send off." Chakotay leaned back in and kissed Tom again with the same bruising power as before. Gods, no one had ever effected him this way, no one had ever made him so primal, demanding. He pulled back again and ordered Tom to strip.

The bulge at Tom's crotch silenced any doubts in Chakotay's mind that Tom may not want this. He wanted Chakotay as badly as the man wanted him. They hit the Captain's lumpy mattress naked.

Chakotay was sucking at Tom's neck, sure to leave a mark big enough to advertise tomorrow what he had been doing the night before. Neither man cared about that at the moment. Tom was running his hands over Chakotay's shoulders and moaning softly.

The Maquis Captain wanted to hear more than soft moans. He wanted his sometime lover to scream, to beg for him. Chakotay knew he'd get his wish before the night was over. Slowly, he moved down Tom's body, teasing with tongue and teeth. Nipping lightly on the hard pebbles of the man's nipples and lower until he reached the oh-so-red, leaking head of his cock.

He swirled his tongue around it, enjoying the flavor of the pre-ejaculate and eliciting a harsh noise from Tom. Chakotay smiled around his mouthful, opened his mouth wide and swallowed Tom's cock whole. Yes, that whimpering sound, that's the one he wanted to hear.

Chakotay used his free hand, the one that wasn't lightly fondling Tom's testicles, to find and open the lubricant he had left close at hand. He left off fondling to drench his fingers with the lube and returned to rub down past Tom's balls. The younger man aided by opening his legs
wider, spreading himself for the probing fingers.

The tight opening welcomed the invasion; it seemed to pull at one then two fingers. The whimpers became pleas for more. When Chakotay added the third, Tom arched up and came. He
screamed out Chakotay's name.

As Tom lay recovering, Chakotay found the lube again and slicked his cock. He moved around between Tom's legs and moved the pliant limbs onto his shoulders. He centered his cock against the pucker and pushed. Tom's body was so relaxed. No resistance at all. Unerringly, Chakotay found the small gland deep inside Tom and used it to bring the younger man out of his stupor. Soon he was a very active participant; pushing his hips up and moaning again. Begging for harder, faster. Chakotay obliged, but not too hard. He didn't want Tom's mind on his sore butt when he went on that mission in the morning.

It was hard not to pound into the man. Tom looked so totally delectable lying there under him. Sweat had broken out all over him, dampening the soft hair. Tom's mauve colored nipples now out of hiding tempted Chakotay to bite. Not possible at the moment, but very tempting. And the noises, gods, the noises Paris made, the sounds that made Chakotay's gut tightened, his balls tingle and his hips move even faster.

All too soon, it was over. Chakotay coming first, then with his hands helping Tom along to his second orgasm as his cock softened and slipped out of its haven. Tom didn't scream this time, but his expression and the heartfelt, "Ah, ah," was enough to satisfy Chakotay's ego.



The feel of the sticky wetness of his own semen brought Chakotay back to the present. He sighed and got up to wash himself. After his display when he saw Tom there on Voyager's
bridge, he wondered if he'd ever get Tom to trust him again. Not that he was sure Tom ever did really, but why the rage? Why his first instinct was to flatten the man when he shouldn't
have been surprised at all? Tom Paris was Starfleet through and through, he'd known that from the start.

What did Tom owe the Maquis? Chakotay had pushed him out of his mind after he was captured. He had even caught himself halfway believing Seska's admonishments that Tom had
been a plant all along. Seska had never liked Tom anyway. At the time Chakotay had thought it was simple jealousy. Now he wasn't so sure. He heard that Tom had been sent to prison and shrugged it off even though he knew what prisons were like. He had liberated enough of them to
know. The Federation Penal Settlement may not have been a Cardassian prison, but it was a prison still.

Chakotay finished in the bathroom and headed back to bed. He resolved to find Tom and try to talk to him before their next duty shift. It wouldn't be easy. Tom, the smartass, and the smirk was back. The Tom that said that he owned Chakotay now.

Exhaustion caught up with the Commander, and he slept.



When Chakotay woke, he treated himself to a hot water shower. Sonics were fine most of the time, but there was nothing like real water to make him feel ready to face a challenge. He had challenges aplenty to face right now. The firebrand of a Starfleet captain they'd hooked themselves to wasn't the least of them. Something to eat first then before facing that.

Chakotay sat stoically chewing the Fleet emergency rations thinking that at least they were nutritious if not particularly tasty, when he saw Tom enter the mess hall with that kid, what was his name again? Kim, that was it, Harry Kim. The youngster was following Tom around like a puppy dog. One look and Chakotay could tell that the ensign was smitten.

They got their rations and sat down across the room where Chakotay could see their faces, but he couldn't hear what they were actually saying. Oh yeah, the Kim kid had it bad. As for Tom, at least the smirk wasn't there. He seemed genuinely interested in whatever the kid was talking about. He was smiling and seemed totally oblivious to the adoration. At least the kid hadn't gotten into Tom's pants yet. Once he did that he'd never want to let Tom go, as Chakotay well
knew.

Do I go over there now and start reclaiming my stake? Chakotay never got the chance. His combadge beeped, and he was summoned to Sickbay by Tuvok to deal with the problems with Carey and Torres. By the end of a long, long day, he was just as happy to have that big bunk all to himself. His personal life would have to go on hold for now. Tom Paris would have to wait.

The End?


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