"One of these days, Jonathan, you are going to tell me how you managed to persuade Chef to join Starfleet, much less Enterprise."
Jonathan Archer sighed as he stroked the brown, silky hair of his lover. Malcolm Reed was lying contentedly next to Jon, head resting on his shoulder. They had just finished eating dinner in bed and were simply enjoying their night off.
Jon moved his other hand to lightly clasp Malcolm's where it rested on Jon's chest. The two of them had not been lovers for long, yet Jon knew that Malcolm was deeply important to him. Too important to lose to the secrets in Jon's past. Yes, there was a 50/50 chance of Malcolm going ballistic when Jon told him, but that was better than the 100% guarantee that Jon would lose his lover if Malcolm found out from anyone else. Like Trip.
"Chef and I were lovers in college."
Rather than the anger or astonishment Jon was expecting, Malcolm started laughing against Jon's chest. As Jon stared, Malcolm kept laughing.
"Oh love, that's a good one." The armory officer wiped tears of amusement out of his eyes.
"It's not a joke, Malcolm. We were lovers for three years before he graduated and went on to culinary school."
"How convenient, having your former lover on the ship." Malcolm's voice had lost all its humor and was almost as emotionless as T'Pol's. He started to remove himself from Jon's embrace but the American wouldn't let go.
"Emphasis on former, Malcolm. We really hadn't seen each other since then. A few times a year at his restaurant--if then."
"Yet he's now the Chef on Starfleet's Flagship. Quite a coincidence."
"Malcolm," sighed Jon. He let his arms fall from the other man. "I knew we were going to be out here for five years and I also know a crew runs on its stomach. I wanted a chef I knew could handle the journey and the challenges. And Chef likes challenges. It was, actually, his idea to find out your favorite food. I think he knew I wanted you even then."
Malcolm stared down at Jon. "You're kidding--your former lover wanted to set you up with a new one?"
"He's a romantic at heart--and believes that the way to a man's heart is through his stomach."
"It's actually though the ribcage--mmph." Malcolm glared at Jon over the hand covering the younger man's mouth.
"Please, Malcolm, I just ate."
Malcolm nodded and shifted on the bed, settling back down onto Jon's chest. "All right. Chef was your lover. I can handle that. Just--why do you call him Chef? Why not his real name?"
Jon smiled and leaned down to whisper in Malcolm's ear. Malcolm's eyes widened. "Right. Chef it is."
Jon kissed Malcolm deeply. "So, you're really okay with knowing about Chef and me?"
"Yes, I am. So long as Chef doesn't try to get to your heart with food."
"Impossible. My heart's not mine to give anymore--only yours to return."
Malcolm traced a finger down Jon's cheek. "And I plan on keeping it for a long time."