Crawling From The Wreckage

Trip walked along the corridor, a spring in his step and whistling a cheerful tune.

It had been worth the wait. Malcolm was every inch the passionate lover Jon had said he was.

Lover. Trip rolled the word around and grinned, nodding a chipper greeting to a couple of passing crewmen.

He had expected Malcolm to think things over, taking it slow, and, in the light of day, Trip had half expected Malcolm to refuse to become involved in another shipboard relationship. But Malcolm had surprised him and Trip had seen the impetuous side the man rarely allowed free reign when Malcolm had woken him that morning with enthusiastic kisses and the best head he'd ever received.

And the first time they made love reduced Trip to a wrung out pool of bliss. Warm and playful, yet the single mindedness that Malcolm had concentrated on him left Trip enraptured. Malcolm was a little quiet though. And controlled, although that control was tightly focused into eliciting the most pleasurable responses possible from Trip.

Trip wondered what it would be like if Malcolm lost that control and for the first time he had an inkling as to why Jon had done some of the things he had done to push Malcolm to that point.

Not that he would ever condone it. But he could understand it, knowing Jon as he did.

What he couldn't understand, what he couldn't even begin to fathom, was if you loved someone why you would ever want to risk hurting them.

It seemed to him that the price would be too high.

***

Trip pondered the contradictions in his new partner as he puttered about Engineering. He glanced at the chronometer, waiting for the away team, which included Malcolm and Jon, to return from the planet Enterprise was orbiting. Just a few more hours.

Despite appearances, Trip could be a patient man. And, he reflected with a quick grin, he knew that good things came to those who wait.

His thoughts were interrupted by the comm. "Dr. Phlox to Engineering."

"Tucker, here."

"Ah, Commander. When you have a moment, could you have someone come down to Sickbay? The doors won't close again."

Trip swore under his breath. This was the third time this month. Maybe they should replace the whole damn thing.

"Okay, I'll come down and take a look at it myself this time."

"Oh, very good. At your convenience."

"You got it, Doc. Tucker out."

Trip decided to get a few reports out of the way first, then hit sickbay afterwards. With any luck, he'd be finished with everything by the time Malcolm returned.

****

Phlox was surprised when he looked up and saw the away team entering through the open sickbay doors. Not because they had bypassed decon; previous trips to the surface had ascertained there was nothing threatening there, but because Captain Archer, holding a bloody compress to his forehead, was dragging a visibly irritated Lieutenant Reed to a biobed.

As the captain pushed Malcolm down on the biobed he noticed the tear in the back of the lieutenant's uniform and then way Ensign Sato held her wrist as Travis steered her to another bed.

"What happened?" Phlox asked as he picked up a scanner and approached the Captain, waving him to sit. The planet was supposedly peaceful, the inhabitants eager to be friends and allies.

"Wind shear," Travis answered as he settled Hoshi. Jon sat next to Malcolm. Malcolm scooted over, but Jon shifted as well, moving closer.

"Knocked us around a lot. Damn good thing Travis was piloting. He got us under control," Jon added.

"I've always said the bloody thing needed seat belts," Malcolm grumbled. Jon laughed and patted his thigh, ignoring Malcolm's tensing. Malcolm inched away again, and Jon again shifted closer. Malcolm froze and stared at the floor.

Phlox ran the scanner over Jon's forehead, then Malcolm's back. "Nothing serious, gentlemen. A few minutes with the dermasealer and you'll both be as good as new. Lieutenant, please strip out of the top portion of your uniform." Phlox moved on to Hoshi, his touch gentle as he examined her wrist.

Malcolm practically leapt off the biobed to comply, moving away from Jon and turning his back as he unzipped his uniform and removed his shirts, hissing a little at the motion. He tied the jumpsuit's arms around his waist and walked over to where Hoshi sat, looking over Phlox's shoulder at the scanner readings.

"Sprain?" he asked, sounding relieved.

"Yes, some ice and a mild analgesic should alleviate any discomfort."

"See, Malcolm, I told you that you make a great landing pad," Hoshi said, teasing him.

Malcolm huffed. "I'd prefer to land on top once in a while."

Hoshi leaned forward, impish smile lurking on her face. "But we like you on the bottom, Malcolm."

He blushed and she laughed. He shook his head and finally chuckled, their eyes meeting.

Jon didn't like the look that passed between them.

He knew he was jealous. He knew he didn't have any right to be, but that didn't stop the feeling.

He didn't think Malcolm had become involved with anyone yet. Although he noticed Malcolm and Trip spending a little more off duty time together, Jon was sure Trip hadn't said anything. Trip would have told him, and his friend always did have a tendency to move slow.

Jon wanted to talk to Malcolm before Trip gathered his courage. But Malcolm had been very careful not to be alone with him in the last six weeks, and the only relationship they had right now was of commanding officer and subordinate.

Jon planned on changing that. And he didn't want to have to contend with Hoshi in the mix either. He knew she and Malcolm had always been close. It hadn't been a problem when he and Malcolm were together; he'd always known Malcolm wouldn't stray, and that Hoshi was happy with Liz.

But he still didn't like what he saw.

Phlox finished treating Hoshi, and she and Travis took their leave, Hoshi giving Malcolm a grin and a little pat on the shoulder before walking out of sickbay.

"How did you two become injured?" Phlox asked, turning his attention to Jon's head.

"We got bounced around. I hit a console and Malcolm was tossed against some equipment. Hoshi was thrown into him." Jon explained.

"I hit the corner of it when I caught her. Then we were pitched to the deck and I landed right atop some other sharp edge. At least I broke Hoshi's fall," Malcolm finished sourly.

Phlox nodded his head as he prodded the cuts and abrasions on Malcolm's back. "Well, it's not serious, but I'd like to disinfect these and seal the skin. I'll attend to the Captain first."

Malcolm nodded and sat down on another bio bed, away from Jon.

Phlox cleaned and treated Jon's head, dermasealer humming quietly. The comm sounded just as he finished closing the wound.

"Shuttlebay to Phlox."

As Phlox went to answer the hail, Jon rose and stood in front of Malcolm.

"I'd like to talk to you. Tonight? My quarters? About 2100 hours." Jon said.

Malcolm looked at him, his expression wary. "Regarding, sir?"

Before Jon could reply, Phlox interrupted them.

"There's been a slight mishap in the Shuttlebay. Nothing serious," he added at Jon's concerned look. "It should only take about ten, fifteen minutes. Captain, please stay here, I need to cover that. Lieutenant, I want you to remain here as well. I still need to take care of those lacerations."

"I can come back here when you've finished—" Malcolm started, but Phlox cut him off.

"No, just wait here. It won't take me long and I don't want you slipping away, Lieutenant." Phlox chuckled at Malcolm's exasperated look. He picked up a medkit and headed out the door. "I expect to find you both here when I return," he called over his shoulder as he left.

***

Trip, repair kit in hand, saw Phlox striding down the corridor.

"Problem, Doc?"

"A small mishap in the Shuttlebay. Shouldn't take long."

"Well, I'm heading to sickbay to fix your doors."

"Splendid, Commander. And should you see Mr. Reed trying to sneak out, please do me a favor and keep him there."

Trip stopped, a worried look creasing his face. "Is he okay?"

Phlox nodded and continued on his way. "A few minor cuts, but I want to treat them properly. He's fine, Commander. Just prevent him from escaping, please."

Trip laughed, relieved. "Will do, Doc."

***

Malcolm sighed and fidgeted, aware of Jon's eyes upon him.

"Have you been avoiding me, Malcolm?"

"Sir?"

Jon repressed his own sigh. He moved closer, brushing against Malcolm's knee. Malcolm edged away. Jon put a hand out to still him and leaned against him again.

Malcolm looked up, his face unreadable. "What do you want, Jon?"

"You."

Malcolm didn't blink, nor break eye contact. "Why? You're with Marcuson. He gives you what you want. I can't. I won't." Malcolm finally looked away. "It's over, Jon. Just…leave it."

Jon stroked his hand up the back of Malcolm's neck, ignoring his ex- lover's discomfort. "I can change, Malcolm. I was wrong, I admit it. I did some stupid and selfish things." His voice grew hoarse with emotion. "I love you. I'll change, I swear it, Malcolm. I can, for you. I still love you so much…"

Malcolm gently pushed Jon's hand away.

"I'm sorry, Jon. I can't."

"Please."

That one word cut through Malcolm. The sincerity and regret in Jon's voice, the love and tenderness he had felt in Jon's touch.

He didn't want to hurt Jon, but renewing their relationship was out of the question, especially now.

Malcolm looked back at his ex-lover, meeting his eyes and opening his mouth to decline again.

Jon swooped in and kissed him sweetly, suffused with love and desire, hand again on the back of Malcolm's neck, preventing him from pulling away.

At that moment, Trip walked in through the open sickbay doors.

***

Trip came to an abrupt stop, eyes widening and mouth dropping open at the sight of his half naked lover kissing Jon. Malcolm's torn back was to him providing Trip the view of Jon's hand caressing Malcolm's neck, long fingers winding through Malcolm's hair, pulling him closer.

His heart sped up, blood pounding in his head and it felt as if he couldn't breathe. His hands broke out into a sweat and he clenched his fist around the handle of his repair kit so that it wouldn't slip out of his grasp.

He saw Malcolm lift his hand, putting it on Jon's shoulder.

And push him back. Hard. While twisting away.

"No." It came out a low snarl.

"Malcolm, please—"

As Jon reached for him, Malcolm rolled off the biobed placing it between them. "No. I'm not interested. It's too late, Jon."

Air came rushing back into Trip's lungs and he thought he'd collapse now. Quietly.

"Why? I swear, no more rough stuff, no more pushing you. Anything you want, Malcolm. I will change. I promise. I never stopped loving you. Please, just give me another chance." The raw honest emotion in Jon's voice was painful to hear. It made Malcolm feel terrible.

"I've…I'm with someone. And I'm happy," he said, his voice low, his anger gone. "I'm sorry. It's too late."

"Who?" It was a demand and at the same time a plead.

"Jon…" Malcolm looked away.

"Trip? Did he finally say something?" Jon saw Malcolm color slightly.

Jon sat down heavily on the biobed. "I didn't know. He never said anything to me."

"I didn't want to make a public announcement," Malcolm said a bit dryly.

"Why? I thought you weren't uptight about that anymore."

"I'm not. Thanks to you." The warmth in Malcolm's voice was evident. He relaxed against the biobed. "It hasn't been all that long." His voice took on a confessional air and Trip listened, despite every instinct telling him to back out slowly and leave.

"I've never had a relationship with anyone who was a friend before."

Jon looked at him, surprise and a touch of hurt on his face. Malcolm hastened to explain. "I mean, it's always been just sex, then maybe a friendship developing. If at all. Which it usually didn't." He laughed ruefully. "Except with us—you worked so hard to become my friend Jon, not just a lover. And I'm grateful for that. But…"

Malcolm paused and walked around to sit next to Jon, their backs to Trip. "I owe you so much. You were patient and charitable, and always there for me." He looked down and fiddled with the arms of his jumpsuit, his hands betraying his nervousness. His voice dropped and Trip had to strain to hear.

"I care about you, Jon, but I'm no longer in love with you. You made me a better person—you loved me unconditionally, you took all my flaws in stride and a part of me will always love you because of it; but the…trust…is gone. I can forgive, but I can't forget…I'm just not good enough to do that. And I hope you can forgive me for that."

Each word made Jon cringe inside, shame and anger burning at having to face his culpability, at Malcolm for refusing him so baldly. His anger warred with understanding and then the anger evaporated when he heard the self-condemnation in Malcolm's husky tones. The dejected look on his beloved's face made him feel guilty; his cherished one always did have a tendency to blame himself.

But Jon couldn't bring himself to blame Malcolm; he'd done enough soul searching to know this was his own doing. He darted out a hand, capturing Malcolm's restless fingers to reassure his beloved.

Malcolm gave his hand a brief squeeze before gently disentangling himself and guiding Jon's hand away. He raised his head to look at Jon and the compassion in his eyes made Jon feel even worse.

"I think you just got lost somewhere, what with all the pressure Starfleet puts on you. It was spinning out of control and eventually one of us was going to seriously hurt the other. I can't afford to be like that, Jon and I refuse to be used." He lowered his eyes and fussed with the arms of his uniform again. "Besides, I have too much pride; I couldn't stay, hanging on like some pathetic, desperate little twit. I think I would have begun to hate you…we both needed to make a clean break. And with Trip…" Malcolm smiled. "He said being friends first could make it even better and he was right."

Malcolm's soft expression made Jon feel empty. His beloved was lost to him, now with someone else—someone who, at the mere mention of his name, could bring forth that contented smile. "So why didn't you tell me?" It came out a bit plaintive.

"Because…well, because…I wanted to…savor…it." Malcolm ducked his head and Jon tried to smile.

"You love him? Because I know for a fact he loves you."

"I know. And yes, you know me, I'm such an emotional prat. I've fallen completely in love with him." Malcolm smiled again. "Like you, he puts up with me."

Trip had been trying to leave, his movements stealthy so as not to alert the two. The conversation was so personal he felt embarrassed for listening. But at Malcolm's words, Trip froze, and this time his breathing did stop. Malcolm had yet to tell him he loved him.

He couldn't help it. A grin broke out on his face and he turned back, all ears once more.

"Didn't want to jinx it by telling everyone, huh?" Jon teased, forcing himself to put on a good front.

Malcolm snorted. "Part of me wants to shout it from the rooftops. But on the other hand, I don't want everyone thinking I'm shagging my way down the chain of command."

Jon laughed. "Oh yeah, the furthest you'd ever get with T'Pol is checking out her ass."

Trip saw the tips of Malcolm's ears turn red.

"And no one would believe you'd have a chance with Hoshi, considering her devotion to Liz," Jon continued, his tone a light but good natured mocking.

Malcolm's hands fidgeted with his uniform even more fitfully and Trip saw the back of his neck flush. Jon must have seen the rest of his face, because Jon's mouth dropped open.

"Hoshi?"

Malcolm twitched.

"Does Liz know?"

The twitch became a full blown squirm.

"Both?"

Malcolm dropped his head and scrubbed a hand across his face.

"Christ, Malcolm!"

"It was a…condolence…thing," he said weakly.

"Condolence?" Jon's tone was equally amused and disbelieving.

"It was right after you and I…they were…it…just…was…" He floundered around for the words, "…a friendly bit of comfort?" Malcolm trailed off, voice pitched a little higher than usual and sounding sheepish.

"Both? At the same time?"

Trip saw the blush work its way down his lover's back. He was pretty sure he was blushing too, although it gave him some excellent dirt he could use to tease Malcolm as payback for all the smart ass comments Malcolm had made regarding Trip's own various trysts.

"Well, Liz said that as much as a person likes chocolate, you sometimes have a rare craving for vanilla…"

Jon laughed and Malcolm looked at him, a serious expression on his face.

"I don't want it spread about, Jon. It was a rebound thing and we all agreed it was just for a bit of…fun. Besides, Hoshi and Liz have been good friends to me when I needed it the most—and they still are. I owe them a lot and I don't want them subjected to malicious gossip or have their reputations impugned."

Jon looked at him and smiled wide. "How often did they…comfort you?"

Trip hadn't thought anyone's skin could turn so red. Malcolm ducked his head again, running a hand through his hair.

"Well," Malcolm sighed theatrically. "I like girls too, you know."

"You like sex."

"Yeah, I'll grant you that."

Jon laughed, a booming, genuine sound and threw an arm around Malcolm's shoulder, hugging him, forcing the slighter man close.

Malcolm stiffened. "If you try to kiss me again, I'll break every bone in your hand. Sir." Malcolm pushed his arm off his shoulder, glaring at Jon, a warning in his eyes as he scooted away.

"Wouldn't dream of it, Lieutenant." Jon placed his hands on the biobed, knowing Malcolm meant what he said. "I'm sorry, Malcolm. If I had known you were with Trip, I wouldn't have asked. I just…I just can't help the way I feel." He looked at Malcolm, gazing into the eyes of his beloved, once again cursing himself. What he had lost.

Malcolm met his eyes for a moment, then bowed his head. "I'm so sorry, Jon. I.." He shook his head helplessly.

"I'll still be here for you, Malcolm, if you change your mind or if things don't work out. I'll even keelhaul Trip if he breaks your heart."

That forced a chuckle from Malcolm. Jon reached out to stroke him and Trip saw Jon hesitate, then drop his hand. Malcolm caught the movement from the corner of his eye and looked at Jon, and Trip could see the sad smile on his lover's face.

"I hope with all my heart I can made this work. This time. I'm so afraid I'll ruin it. I seem to hurt so many people, and I couldn't bear to do that to Trip. I think you and I can be friends, Jon, but I don't want to be alone with you off duty. I can't afford to screw this up. I know what suspicion and distrust can do, and I don't want Trip to go through that."

Jon ached to touch him, to kiss him one last time. He nodded instead. "I understand, Malcolm." He gave his beloved a smile in return, but it felt hollow. "I'm glad for you."

Trip started to back out of the room again, his common sense screaming at him to leave before he was detected. But then he stopped, curious, for Malcolm had swung around and settled on his knees, now eye level with Jon and leaning in close, earnest and intent.

"Stop seeing Marcuson, Jon. Find a better outlet, all right? Ask T'Pol to teach you to meditate or find someone else. I worry about you—what you're doing to yourself isn't good."

It took every inch of willpower Jon possessed not to push Malcolm down onto the biobed and kiss him again. Because there it was, laid out in front of him—the passion on Malcolm's face, the taut lines of his body as he spoke with conviction and sincerity, the ferocious honesty and dedication in his beloved's eyes that betrayed the carefully concealed emotions beneath the surface. He knew Malcolm would never understand just how much he loved him, why he felt compelled to goad him to reveal that intensity, why he found it so tantalizing and captivating.

And the most enticing part was knowing Malcolm was completely unaware of how deeply he inflamed Jon. How much he craved that fire and ardor in a partner.

His melancholy thoughts drowned out the rest of what Malcolm was saying as he studied the colors of his cherished one's eyes. There was concern there, warmth and fidelity, but the love he had seen in those expressive eyes for over two years was gone. It was truly over. Jon tamped down his dismay and sense of loss.

Malcolm had said he was happy with Trip and Jon didn't want to destroy that. He'd done enough damage.

But he couldn't resist one last touch. He swept his fingers along Malcolm's face, his caress light.

Malcolm caught Jon's hand, his eyes darkening. "I thought you wanted to keep your bones intact. Sir."

From the sudden painful increase in pressure on Jon's hand, to the deadly serious threat uttered in that soft seductive growl, to the spark of anger in his beloved's eyes—Jon memorized this last moment and the pure animal sensuality his beloved unconsciously exuded.

Trip heard footsteps coming down the corridor. Caught with no escape, he walked fully into the room, calling out a cheerful greeting, trying to act innocent.

Malcolm nearly catapulted off the biobed.

Trip almost grinned at the sight of his lover's furious blush until he saw the look of utter distress flit across Malcolm's face. All thoughts of teasing his lover later this evening about what he had overheard fled as he saw a glimmer of panic in Malcolm's eyes before he schooled his expression to a neutral one.

Jon looked between them, confused until he saw the pained expression on Trip's face. He realized what it had looked like. And Malcolm's guilty start certainly hadn't improved the picture.

Phlox entered, tsking and clucking about the human propensity to let their mind wonder while performing routine tasks and how injuries could be prevented by paying the proper attention to the matter at hand. He continued his monologue while washing up and covering the sealed cut on Jon's forehead.

Trip couldn't catch Malcolm's eye. His lover kept his head down, staring at the deck as Phlox closed and dressed the lacerations on his back.

Trip was up to his armpits in the mechanical workings of the sickbay doors when Malcolm bolted, leaving his damaged shirts behind, his uniform hurriedly zipped partway. Trip called out to him, but he was gone.

Phlox spoke to Jon for several minutes, gathering more information for his report before entering his office. Jon walked over to Trip.

"Whatever you saw, it's not what it looked like —"

"I know, Jon."

"He loves you, Trip. Not me. Not anymore. I made some moves—but I didn't know you two were involved. He turned me down, repeatedly. But I couldn't help myself…I just had to touch him one last time."

"It's okay, Jon. I trust him." Trip offered Jon a slight smile as he finished rerouting the final relay. "'Sides, I like touching him too."

Jon face relaxed in relief and he smiled. Trip started to pack his tools away.

"You have my word I won't interfere—I won't try anything and I'll leave him alone. He's happy with you and believe it or not, I want that for him."

Trip nodded, knowing Jon would keep his word. Trip had admired Jon's restraint and professionalism since the events on Kriom, and they both knew that Malcolm wouldn't let Jon persist; Malcolm had made that abundantly clear.

He couldn't blame Jon for trying one last time though, especially since he hadn't known. And Trip hadn't gotten around to telling Jon, for like Malcolm, he wanted to relish the newness of their relationship, to keep it all for himself for as long as possible, considering how long he had waited. Besides, it was an touchy situation, even though Jon had encouraged it. It was one thing to suggest to your old ex-lover to get involved with your new ex-lover, and quite another to know it had happened.

But Trip knew they would get over any lingering awkwardness—he knew Jon's basic decency and his authentic desire to make Malcolm happy would eventually overcome his more self-centered tendencies.

Jon was complex and imperfect, but deep down, he was a good man. They would survive. They always did. He and Jon were best friends after all.

Trip closed his tool kit and Jon extended his hand to help him up.

"You better hunt him down and let him know it's okay before he starts beating himself up. He's an expert at self-criticism." Jon smiled at Trip and squeezed his shoulder. "And when you finally get it through his head that everything's fine—well…he might be a little…unruly. He gets that way when he bottles things up."

"I'm still trying to work up the courage to ask him to demonstrate that thing he does that you said made you scream." He was rewarded with a hearty laugh from Jon and Trip felt better. He left, headed in the direction Malcolm had gone, his pace brisk.

***

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

The punching bag bore the assault mutely.

Idiot. You've wreck it. He'll never believe you. Why should he? You know what it looked like, two lovers holding hands, gazing into each other eyes like a couple of bleedin' sops. You saw the look on his face. Why must you always leave pain and ashes in your wake, you sodding imbecile?

The punching bag swayed under the furious attack.

No one but yourself to blame. You invaded Jon's personal space. You should have anticipated how he'd react. If you'd bloody well been paying attention, you'd have seen you provoked him into it.

The leather groaned as it was scourged with several hard blows.

You know how Jon is. All this time he hasn't done a thing and you've been careful, then you practically crawl into his lap. You invited it.

Oh god, I've ruined it. Trip looked so hurt.

A flurry of blows rocked the punching bag.

He'll never believe me. Not in a million years. Why didn't you think? Because you never think, you stupid twat…

Trip walked into the gym just as the punching bag gave up the ghost, sand dribbling out of a hairline crack.

"You killed it." Trip's tone was light despite his consternation. It had taken him a good forty-five minutes to track Malcolm down growing more anxious as his search was delayed by the head of hydroponics who bent Trip's ear about reconfiguring some storage space.

And now seeing his lover, agitated and sweat covered, shirt plastered to his torso as he abused the punching bag and himself, just added to his distress.

Malcolm looked up at Trip, face blank and eyes empty. He looked away. "Yes. I seem to do that to everything I touch, don't I?" He struck the bag once more and it creaked loudly, the sand spilling out a little faster.

Trip was beside Malcolm in two swift steps. He pulled his lover close and Malcolm tried to wiggle away, but Trip held him tight.

He kissed Malcolm, tongue demanding entrance. After a few moments of stiff resistance, Malcolm relaxed enough to permit Trip to gently explore. Trip embraced him, caressing him with a soothing touch. He could feel Malcolm shaking, adrenaline and emotion mixed in a potent high-strung cocktail. He broke the kiss, and cupped Malcolm's face with both hands, making Malcolm look at him.

"I saw everything and I know what happened. I love and trust you, Malcolm and I know you love me. I know you didn't do anything. No use going into a tizzy over nothing, and as far as I'm concerned, that was nothing. You hear me?"

Malcolm gave him an uncertain look, then pulled away. He grabbed his towel off the bench and wiped himself down, trying to compose himself.

Trip waited until Malcolm got a handle on his emotions and then took him by the wrist. "Come on. Let's grab something for supper and eat in my quarters." He lower his voice and let his accent drawl, low and rich. "And if you want to talk, fine. But then I'm going to show you just how much I love you."

He was rewarded with a stunned look from his lover.

***

Trip knew Malcolm was still upset, demonstrated by the fact that more food was pushed around his lover's plate than actually made it into his mouth.

Trip had always been open, honesty and trust coming naturally to him. Early on he had told Malcolm that he was the one who had left the padd on Malcolm's bed, apologizing for not having the courage to come out and tell him about Jon's actions on Strolof.

Malcolm had surprised him though, brushing off Trip's apology, stating he fully understood Trip's reasoning and reluctance. He had smirked when he said he had figured out it was Trip's doing and told Trip that he wasn't very good at erasing his tracks.

So now, in keeping with his nature, Trip told his lover all he had seen and overheard, even though he was embarrassed by having to admit to eavesdropping so shamelessly.

The blush returned to Malcolm's face a few times as Trip gently kidded him once or twice, but his relief was obvious. Which made the shower they took together all the more enjoyable.

By the time they finished washing and fondling each other, they were so aroused that Trip swore he would come just by hearing Malcolm's voice.

Luckily for Malcolm, that theory didn't hold up.

And afterwards, Trip thought he was lucky too.

Because for the first time since they had gotten together, Trip saw the side of Malcolm that Jon had always raved about and that Trip had found difficult to believe—until now, when he found himself on the receiving end of an intensity which bordered between unnerving and enthralling.

Malcolm was aggressive, using a strength Trip hadn't realized his lover possessed. He was pinned to the bed, unable to move, Malcolm not allowing him to touch him. Fixed under an unwavering gaze, Trip was the sole recipient of his lover's focused attention, his hands, lips and teeth inciting Trip to waves of pleasure.

Malcolm was all over him, thorough and rapacious, with a wild streak that threatened to overwhelm Trip.

Trip found himself on his back, cock fully engulfed by Malcolm's exquisite mouth. His lover increased the sweet torment, making Trip writhe with pleasure as Malcolm continued to constrict his throat muscles with every bob of his head. He was being swallowed whole, surrounded by a tight steamy heat, being grasped and massaged by smooth wet walls of flesh. He almost sobbed when Malcolm pulled away just as he was ready to explode.

Feeling harder than ever before, he groaned, his need aching as he arched his hips toward Malcolm. His lover removed the lube from Trip's beside drawer and held it out, a question in his eyes, waiting for Trip to make the decision.

Trip took it and placed some on his hand, then stroked Malcolm's cock, making his lover shiver. Trip saw the gleam in his lover's eye as he took the tube and began to prepare Trip.

Malcolm took his time, fingers slow, his other hand wrapped around Trip's dick. He stroked his lover, hands moving in concert, pushing, pulling, caressing and stretching, all the while watching Trip's face.

Trip thought he'd die soon.

"Now, Malcolm. Please," he managed to pant out.

In one clean controlled stroke, Malcolm entered him and Trip melted, so relaxed that he felt nothing but excitement and fulfillment. Malcolm started an unhurried and easy rhythm, his eyes boring into Trip's.

Malcolm brought Trip close to release, then stopped suddenly and Trip felt a sublime pleasure as Malcolm rammed forward, filling him to the hilt. Then Malcolm urged Trip upright, powerful hands pulling him forward as Malcolm leaned back, smoothly shifting onto his knees. He tugged his lover onto his lap and Trip sat up, impaled on Malcolm's thick cock, hanging onto Malcolm's shoulders while Malcolm's hands and mouth were busy on Trip's body.

Malcolm sucked and squeezed, hands talented as he played Trip's balls and cock roughly, a vast difference from his usual tender ministrations, yet never tipping over into causing pain. Trip thought he'd pass out from such intense pleasure as he rode Malcolm. Malcolm rocked in time with him, never slowing his hands, his mouth switching from nipple to nipple, sucking hard and occasionally biting gently.

It was driving Trip mad with lust, his senses on overload. His breathing became ragged, his movements frenzied and just as he started over the edge, Malcolm bent forward, astonishing Trip with his flexibility as his mouth covered the very tip of Trip's straining dick. Malcolm grabbed Trip's hips and pushed up hard and fast again and again as Trip came, Malcolm's name torn from his throat, his vision swimming. Malcolm released him and slammed him down on his back, moving furiously, causing Trip's ass to twitch and contract, and Trip felt a warm blossom shoot through his groin and stomach as Malcolm consistently found that sweet spot within him.

He opened his eyes in time to see Malcolm throw his head back, his body glistening and eyes closed as he finally made a sound, a deep predatory cry, tapering off, low and harsh. It excited Trip, making goose bumps rise on his heated flesh, and his cock responded.

Malcolm continued to move, his sweat dripping onto Trip's chest and stomach, his seed making his cock smooth and frictionless. Trip could hear him whispering "I love you, Trip," over and over.

Trip couldn't believe it when he came a second time, Malcolm seeming to anticipate it, one hand enveloping Trip's cock just before it jerked and spurted.

Malcolm collapsed upon Trip, panting hard. Trip could feel Malcolm still buried inside him, the heat radiating from his lover's body.

They stay there, neither moving, until Malcolm pulled away.

Trip mourned the loss.

Malcolm headed to the bathroom and returned a few minutes later, wiping Trip down, cleaning him gently, scrutinizing his skin. He then kissed Trip, nuzzling him, nibbling along his neck and collarbone.

"You okay?"

"Died and went to heaven, Mal."

Malcolm tossed the towel aside and crawled in next to Trip.

Trip pulled him over, holding him close and kissed him deeply.

"Thank you, Malcolm. That was incredible."

Malcolm kissed him back. "I wasn't too rough, was I?" He could hear the anxiety in Malcolm's voice.

Trip laughed. "God, no! I would have said something." He stroked his fingers through Malcolm's hair. "I kind of like you wild like that, Mal." Yes, he could fully understand Jon's motives now.

"I couldn't help it. I'm sorry."

"Jesus, Malcolm! You're a blockheaded mule, you know that? You didn't hurt me, you didn't bruise me, I ain't bleeding, and you fucked me through the mattress and all the way down to E deck. If I ever feel a lick of pain starting, I'll let you know—I'm not Jon. And you can get wild anytime you like, but if you deliberately try to hurt me, I'll kick you to the curb so fast you won't know what hit you. Understand?"

Malcolm seemed taken aback by Trip's outburst, but he then laughed and nestled back into Trip's arms. Trip was relieved when Malcolm fully relaxed, the tension in which he had been holding himself gone.

"Have I told you how much I love you, Mr. Tucker?"

"No. But I wouldn't mind hearing it now."

Malcolm softly told Trip how much he loved him until Trip fell asleep.

***

Jon prowled his quarters restlessly, replaying his conversation with Malcolm. He wondered if Trip had managed to convince Malcolm that he wasn't angry, or if they were making love right now.

With Malcolm's voice echoing through his head he stabbed the comm panel with an agitated finger.

"I'd like to see you in my quarters. Now, if it's convenient."

He waited.

***

Jon opened the door and smiled, feeling the tension leave him.

"Glad you could come." He motioned his guest into his room.

"I was wondering…I have a favor to ask. Could you teach me to…meditate?"

He laughed when T'Pol's eyebrows rose into her bangs.

***

He woke early and shifted slightly. He smiled as Malcolm's arms tightened around him, amused when he felt Malcolm rub his face along his chest, then burrow in closer. Trip pulled back a little but could only see tufts of Malcolm's dark hair sticking out from the cocoon of blankets his lover was wrapped in.

He was lying on top of Malcolm's arm and he thought about moving, figuring Malcolm would be awfully cranky when he woke up with his arm numb. But he didn't want to disturb his lover. Besides, he was comfortable, warm in Malcolm's embrace and enjoying the feel of their legs tangled together, the light pressure from his lover's thigh making his crotch tingle.

He kissed the top of his head instead and was rewarded with a little purring sound from Malcolm who squirmed into him again, but didn't wake.

Trip thought about last night, his lover's wild intensity, those bottled emotions erupting in a maelstrom of physical release. He thought about Jon and all his machinations, his manipulations to goad Malcolm into abandoning his restraint.

He hugged Malcolm tighter. Life was too precious, his Malcolm was too precious, to ever think about doing what Jon had done. And for the first time, Trip didn't feel guilty about wanting, and having, the lover Jon had so deservedly lost.

Trip had thought Malcolm needed someone to protect him from Jon, but he realized Malcolm could take care of himself. All he really needed was someone who could love him for who he was, someone who could convince him that he was appreciated just for being himself.

And Trip knew he was the right man for the job.

After all, like all worthwhile endeavors, it would only take a little patience, and Trip had plenty of that.