Sometimes, Trip reflected, there were two Malcolm Reeds on board Enterprise.
One was the prim and proper officer, the man who was tireless in his dedication to his job. He maintained his weapons and staff at peak efficiency. He was fanatically paranoid about the safety of the crew.
The other Malcolm Reed visited Trip's quarters once a week, at 0130. He stripped efficiently, climbed into Trip's bed, and proceeded to screw Trip senseless. He would be gone by 0430, the smell of sex the only reminder of his presence in Trip's quarters.
Malcolm never said a word beyond those needed during sex.
Trip knew he should confront Malcolm, find out why the man continued to do this. They'd first had sex on the shuttlepod, a reaction to their imminent deaths. A need for human contact that was primal. Two weeks after their return, Malcolm made his first visit. A visit that Trip had welcomed.
Sighing, Trip turned over onto his side, waiting for the door to open. It was almost time for Malcolm to arrive. The door was unlocked, waiting for the man. He knew he would never confront Malcolm. One questioning word would drive the armory officer away, and Trip needed this too much. He needed Malcolm in his arms, in his bed.
The door slid open, and Malcolm entered. Once again, he removed his uniform, sliding into the warm bed with Trip. The engineer reached for him, pulling him close. He would take what he could get, however he could get it. Even if it meant no words, just body on body, friction and release.
In the afterglow of release, before either of them could recover for another round, Trip knew it soon wouldn't be enough for him. He was falling in love with Malcolm. Both Malcolms.
He just didn't know if either could ever love him back.