Lieutenant Ayala walked into his quarters after a long day. Another alien species bent on Voyager's destruction, another day spent at Tuvok's station trying to keep the ship from being blown to bits. As always, a crisis was narrowly averted, Janeway saved the day, Paris made some smart-ass remark, and they all choked down dinner at the mess hall.
Life was...well, life. Just another day in paradise.
Ayala collapsed on the couch, letting out an explosive sigh and running a hand through his thick, dark hair. He closed his eyes, letting his mind wander. It hardly seemed fair, he thought. He worked just as hard as Harry Kim or Torres, but they got to sit at the shiny table in the Captain's Ready Room. After all, he *had* gotten a promotion to Lieutenant while onboard ship. So why did he feel like a nobody?
Hardly anyone on the ship knew anything about him, he answered himself. To most, he was just part of the scenery.
He got up and dragged himself to bed, not bothering with reading that historical novel about the first Enterprise to occupy his mind. It only served to remind him how far he was from home, and how much he missed his sons. Ordering the room's lights out, he soon drifted into a deep slumber.
* * * * *
He wasn't onboard Voyager anymore. But was definitely on a starship, judging from the instrument panels that were installed on the bridge. But the technology onboard seemed somehow antiquated, like he was in the middle of a museum exhibit. A voice snapped his attention from his reverie.
"Something wrong, Lieutenant?" Kirk asked him.
Ayala turned to see the captain looking at him with a vague amusement. He shook of his disorientation and handed Kirk the padd.
"Sorry, sir," he said a bit shamefacedly, his dark eyes downcast. "Here are the security reports you asked for."
As Kirk took the reports, Ayala's hand brushed against his. Ayala tried to ignore the strange rush he felt, not wanting to analyze it too deeply. He returned to his station to finish his shift.
Hours later, Ayala trudged down the corridor after his shift. His mind pondered the odd nagging in the back of his mind. He knew he was forgetting something. He had a blurry picture of two little boys in his mind, but he couldn't place their names. It was all very strange.
He looked up in time to see Kirk heading in the opposite direction down the corridor. His face flamed, remembering the unprofessional sensations he had felt earlier. His stomach plummeted when the captain smiled and began speaking to him.
"Ah, just the man I wanted to see. I wanted to ask a few questions of you. How long have you been working security, Lieutenant...?"
"Ayala," he supplied lamely. "And only for a few months, sir."
Kirk bestowed that famous grin on him and said, "We're off duty, Ayala. Call me Jim."
Ayala shrugged. "All right...Jim."
Kirk's smile grew brighter. "Have you eaten yet, Ayala?"
"No, I was just about to."
"Well then, permit me to join you!" Before Ayala could reply, Kirk had grabbed his elbow and was steering him to the mess hall.
Once inside, they both grabbed trays of odd-looking food and sat down at a convenient table. Ayala wasn't sure what was going on, but that odd rush had only grown in strength. As they ate, he kept stealing glances at this legendary captain. Why had Kirk taken an interest in him? What was so special about him?
"Captain..." Ayala began.
"Jim," the captain corrected.
"Jim. I have to wonder...why the sudden interest in me? Why do I suddenly merit your attention?"
Kirk seemed to think about it for a moment, then merely replied, "Do I need a reason?"
"Well, no," Ayala shrugged.
"Then it's not an issue," Kirk's tone made no room for argument.
They soon finished their meals, and much to Ayala's surprise, Kirk invited him to his quarters for an after-dinner brandy. When they arrived, Kirk told Ayala to get comfortable on the couch while he got the drinks. Ayala did as commanded, and Kirk soon returned with two tumblers and an enigmatic smile.
Kirk sat down on the opposite end of the couch and handed Ayala his drink. "So, Lieutenant, tell me about yourself."
Ayala reached for an answer. His mind was a total blank. Not wanting to upset the captain, he offered, "Not much to tell. I have two sons who I miss a lot, but mainly my life has been unexceptional. I mean, I'm not exactly a strong presence on the bridge."
Kirk nodded. "I see. I take it you feel invisible sometimes?"
Ayala looked at Kirk, amazed. "Yes, that's exactly it. It's like I'm a bit character or something."
Kirk shifted on the couch, closer to Ayala. "You may not see it sometimes, but everyone on this crew makes a contribution. They may not get all the cheers and the glory, but they are just as important as the ones with all the medals."
Ayala smiled, touched both by the captain's caring attitude and the cheesiness of that speech. "Thank you, Jim," he said, touching Kirk's hand.
That touch seemed to get a reaction from Kirk. The captain reached out slowly, experimentally, stroking Ayala's cheek with the back of his hand. Ayala closed his eyes and shivered. He opened them again and looked into the depth's of Kirk's eyes, seeing the desire there. Ayala, disregarding all the little warning voices in his head, leaned in and pressed his lips against Kirk's.
Before he knew it, he was on his back, pinned on the couch. Kirk was above him, probing Ayala's mouth with his tongue, removing the junior officer's clothes with finesse or force as the garment warranted and exploring the newly exposed flesh with his hands.
All Ayala could do was moan into Kirk's mouth and aid in divesting the captain of his own clothing. When both men were quite bare, Kirk pulled back from Ayala's mouth with a wet smack. Without a word, Kirk moved down until his mouth was hovering over Ayala's erection. Kirk took a moment to stare up into Ayala's eyes, accurately reading the naked lust held within. Kirk circled his tongue around the tip of Ayala's cock, teasing the ridge, probing the slit. Ayala tightly held on to his control, commanding his hands not to grab Kirk's head and move it as he desired.
Kirk gave a final, considering lick to Ayala's tip before swallowing the flesh in one movement. Kirk slowly withdrew, scraping his teeth lightly on the underside. Ayala finally gave up and reached down, caressing Kirk's face and ears almost tenderly. Kirk descended on Ayala's cock once more, sucking fiercely. He brought Ayala to the edge again and again, before finally moving up to plant a wet kiss on Ayala.
Reaching under the cushions of the couch, Kirk produced a tube of lubricant. Ayala saw this and smiled at Kirk with an arched eyebrow. Ayala lost all humor, however, when he felt slick fingers enter him. Kirk stretched Ayala slowly, patiently, until the junior officer was ready.
Ayala gasped as the head of Kirk's cock pushed its way inside. The rest of him smoothly followed until Kirk was completely inside. Kirk paused, looking at Ayala until he got a reassuring nod. Then Kirk began to thrust.
Their hands were clasped as they both moved, each increasing the tempo until gradually their coupling reached a frantic pace. Ayala stiffened as waves of pleasure rolled over him, his inner contractions bringing Kirk over the edge as well. Ayala braced himself when Kirk collapsed on his chest.
They clung to each other, both breathing hard as reality reasserted itself. Kirk raised himself to look at Ayala, giving the other man a wry smile.
"Well, it seems you'll finally be someone," Kirk said.
Ayala furrowed his brows in confusion. "How is that?"
"You get to be the captain's woman," Kirk chuckled.
* * * *
Ayala woke up screaming. The last thing he remembered from his dream was being referred to as the captain's woman. He didn't even want to think about what *that* meant. He staggered into the bathroom and splashed cold water on his face, then looked at himself in the mirror. Something was different about him. He felt more valued, more confident. He couldn't explain why.
Climbing back to bed, he ordered the lights out again and settled down to go back to sleep. The last thought that ran through his mind was a reminder to make an appointment with Janeway.
The End
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