CPSG Anniversary Story
by Maisie (maisierita@comcast.net)
copyright 1998
(Voy, C/P, NC-17, 1/1)
Disclaimer: I don't own the boyz, but I play with them when I'm not too busy.
Feedback always appreciated at the above address!
*****
A buzz at the door. "Tom?"
Lost in thought, Tom didn't answer.
Gentle knocking. "Tom? Open up."
Chakotay, Tom thought muzzily. "G'way," he mumbled, too quietly to be heard more than a foot away.
Vicious pounding on the door. "Lieutenant Paris! Open the door. That's an order."
An order. That processed, somewhere. "C'm in," Tom said groggily, lifting his head up from where it had settled on his knees and attempting to focus on the door.
Chakotay walked in to the quarters, recoiling at the smell. "Good god, Tom, do you have a distillery set up in here?"
"Nope," Tom answered fuzzily. "But 'tsa good idea. Don't use so many rations that way."
Chakotay counted the five empty glasses on the floor and sighed. "Six drinks, Tom?"
"'m 'llowed," came the belligerent answer. "'m not on duty t'morrow."
"I know." Chakotay cleaned up the empty glasses, returning them to the replicator for recycling. He didn't bother asking where Tom had got the rations from. "What's the occasion?" he said finally, settling himself on the floor, leaning against the couch, a few feet away from where Tom had just sprawled out onto the floor.
Tom blinked. "Occasion?"
"Yes, occasion. Why are you drinking? I thought you stopped that years ago."
"Thought wrong," Tom said with finality, looking mournfully at the final empty glass he held in his hand.
"Oh." Chakotay wondered if he had enough rations to replicate an hypospray to counteract the liquor in Tom's system, and figured he probably didn't. Then he wondered if Tom had enough, and how he might trick Tom into replicating one for himself. Maybe tell him it was a new drink recipe?
Tom meanwhile was counting on his fingers. "Five years, Chak'ty."
"Excuse me?"
"Five years ago today. D'you 'member?"
"No." Chakotay said, casting his brain about in vain, not really able to remember where he'd been five years previously, except that it was somewhere in the Alpha Quadrant.
"Knew you'd ferget," Tom said sadly.
"Remind me," Chakotay indulged.
"Bar," Tom said firmly. "Sandrine's. Me. You."
Chakotay had only been in Sandrine's -- the real Sandrine's -- once in his life. "The day I recruited you?" he hazarded.
"Yep," Tom said, lighting up. "Five years 'go today."
Chakotay frowned. "This is the reason you're getting drunk?"
"Yep. Celebrating." An extended pause. "Not 'zacktly how you think. Wasn't that part. Was the later part."
"Later part?" Chakotay tried to remember, and vaguely recalled having a few drinks with Paris, who'd obviously already been three sheets to the wind. "We drank a bit."
"More 'n a bit."
"Okay, then. More than a bit."
"Drank a bottle of whiskey."
"A whole bottle?"
"Yep. Didn't want it ta go to waste so we drank the whole thing."
"I find that hard to believe."
"Can't help that."
Chakotay imagined he'd have been under the table if he'd consumed any reasonable portion of a bottle of whiskey, but as he didn't have a clear recollection of this particular and apparently momentous day, he encouraged Tom in his little fantasy. "So what happened next?"
"You couldn't walk. Had to drag you up the stairs."
"Up the stairs? To where?"
"My quarters." A thoughtful pause. "Guess they weren't quarters, 'zactly. My rooms."
"You lived above the bar?"
"Was as good a place as any. Cheap, and you couldn't get any more convenient than that."
Chakotay nodded, though he was a bit dismayed that Sandrine would have rented rooms above her bar to someone as alcohol-dependent as Tom had been back then. Although, he reflected charitably, she might merely have wanted to keep an eye on him. Tom had that effect on people. "So then what happened?"
Tom looked at him mournfully. "Was the best part. You don' 'member at all?"
"No," although hazy recollections were forming. Giggling, laughing, pawing, as a beautiful blonde near-stranger fought to propel him up a rickety staircase. Beautiful? Chakotay strained to remember, and got the unsettling impression that, drunk as he'd been, he'd let go of several long-standing inhibitions and had allowed himself to acknowledge that he'd found Tom Paris incredibly attractive.
Tom sighed and looked around for a drink that wasn't there. "I took off your clothes and put you to bed."
"You took off my clothes?" Chakotay repeated dumbly. Uh oh. "You didn't . . . I mean, we didn't . . . " He gulped. "We didn't . . . do anything, did we?"
"What kind of guy d'ya think I am?" Tom protested indignantly. "You were drunk! I left you alone."
"Oh." Whew. For a terrible instant, Chakotay had been afraid that some of his most private dreams actually had a basis in a forgotten drunken encounter.
"Nothing happened until a couple hours later when you woke up to go to the john," Tom continued blithely, shattering Chakotay's hopes. "Then we fooled around."
Chakotay winced. "Are you sure?"
"Course I'm sure! It's not ev'ry day you get laid by a gorgeous guy with a tattoo, ya know. Even tho' the gorgeous guy forgot it as soon as the whiskey wore off." Tom sighed again. "But I didn't forget. I 'member every year. July 15th."
Try as hard as he might, Chakotay couldn't remember anything past the drunken expedition up the stairs. It sounded awfully suspicious to him. "Are you sure, Tom? I mean, I don't really go in for guys."
Tom snorted. "That was kind of obvious."
Unaccountably, Chakotay blushed. "Why?"
"You couldn't figg'r out which end was up, if you know what I mean." Tom leered suggestively. "I practully had to tell you how to do it. 'Course, once you got going you caught on quick. And the mouth job was great too, once I told you to keep your teeth out of the way."
"Mouth?" Chakotay gaped. "You mean I . . . I . . . "
"Went down on me like a pro," Tom sighed happily. "Best damn blow job I'd ever had, even though you swore it was your first one! Bet you've gotten even better since then."
"I don't think so," Chakotay hedged. "I've never been with a man. Another man, I mean. And frankly, I don't remember being with you." He couldn't help but ask, "Are you sure you're remembering it right?"
"Of course I'm sure!" Tom was indignant again, and abruptly almost sober. "Chakotay, you recruited me after the worst time of my life. For five years, all I did was drink, sleep, and fuck. That night you came to me in Sandrine's, you offered me a chance to fly again! It was the first time in years I felt halfway human. I may have been drunk but I remember every minute of that night, and that's why I celebrate it every year."
Chakotay blinked at the reasoning. "But Tom, if I'd never recruited you, you wouldn't have ended up in prison."
"Then I'd probably have drunk myself to death. Anyway, prison wasn't so bad as all that. Three meals a day, no need to make hard fashion choices, strict daily work routine, good medical care, individual quarters, regular sex . . . " Tom paused thoughtfully. "Kinda like Voyager, now that I think about it. Except for the regular sex part."
"What?" Chakotay almost shook his head to clear it. "You mean to tell me you haven't . . . "
"Been laid lately? I haven't. Not since B'Elanna and I split up."
"Oh." There was a long silence. "Why?"
Tom sighed. "'Coz even though it's over with me and 'Lanna, everyone's still 'fraid that if they sleep with me, they'll wake up in the warp core."
"You and B'Elanna split up six months ago."
"I know," Tom mourned. "I haven't gone without sex this long since . . . since . . . " He thought furiously, and frowned when he came up with the answer. "Since never. It's almost enough to make me get back together with her."
"Bad idea," Chakotay warned.
"I know." Heavy sigh, then hopeful eyes cast in a certain First Officer's direction. "I don't s'pose you'd be willing to help me out, would you?"
"Help you out?" Chakotay repeated slowly.
"Yeah." Ponderously, Tom shifted his body towards Chakotay. "It's kinda 'propriate. I mean, if we're ever gonna sleep together again, it makes sense to do it today."
Chakotay was suddenly deafened by a sound he later identified as the pounding of his heart. "I don't think so," he said weakly, even as most of the blood in his body headed straight towards his nether regions. "Protocol doesn't really allow it."
"Protocol, shmotocol," Tom said, oozing across the floor like a pool of liquid nitrogen and coming to rest squarely on top of Chakotay's suddenly nerveless legs. "I'm not asking you to marry me, Chakotay. Let's just celebrate our anniversary together."
"Uh . . . " Chakotay hedged, before finding himself unable to speak due to the presence of Tom's tongue in his mouth. A thousand voices started screaming in his mind, raising objection after objection. His body was oblivious to the commotion, and responded without any direction from his troublesome brain. His arms came up automatically and wrapped around the young man in his lap. His tongue snaked out of his mouth to taste the riches of the mouth on his. His vocal chords let out a series of deep moans. Not least, his cock banged impatiently against the cloth that bound it, swelling and rising in surging waves of passion.
Minutes later, the two men broke apart to force fresh air into their burning lungs. Chakotay thought absently that Tom looked almost as shocked as he, Chakotay, felt. Silently, they stared at each other, hair already in disarray, shirts somehow already unbuttoned, and sporting matching erections that strained their crotches in a rather unflattering way.
"Shit," Tom said succinctly, staring at Chakotay in awe. "Chakotay, I have to tell--"
Chakotay, having decided that Tom's mouth was better utilized for activities other than speech, quickly cut off Tom's words with another passionate kiss, and a bargain was struck. Chakotay wouldn't let his common sense stop him from sleeping with Tom, and Tom would simply keep his mouth shut.
They were still on the floor, lying at the foot of the couch. It proved a convenient place to pile the clothing that was rapidly removed from their bodies. It also proved to hold at least one tube of lubricant, hidden beneath the cushions.
Chakotay gasped at the first touch of Tom's fingers on him, as the younger man smoothed some of the thick gel out and began to smear it gently all over Chakotay's now fully erect cock.
Tom, holding to his end of the bargain, kept his mouth shut and continued his work. After a few minutes of this treatment, Chakotay was fully lubricated and about half a second away from coming. Tom, it seemed, had other ideas, because he tossed the lubricant back under the pillow and pulled Chakotay to him for another kiss.
Their bodies burned against each other. Tom's cock, long and lean just like the man who possessed it, rubbed against Chakotay, and the older man felt it like an electric shock, intense and exciting and invigorating. No point denying any more that he was attracted to men; his sporadic interludes with Kathryn possessed none of this heat, none of this fire.
Between moans, he managed to gasp, "I can't believe we did this before and I forgot about it!"
An expression of dismay quickly flitted across Tom's face, but then Chakotay grew bold and decided to see if he could outdo his performance from five years before. Quickly, before he had time to think about what he was doing, he leaned down and engulfed Tom with his mouth.
Tom yelped in surprise, then collapsed in a heap as Chakotay began to slide his lips up and down Tom's length. Chakotay quickly got into a comfortable rhythm, and began to get inventive, letting his tongue trace patterns on Tom's fevered skin.
After one particularly inventive move, Tom yelped again, and pulled out protectively.
Disappointed, Chakotay looked up, only to have Tom mutter, embarrassed, "Watch the teeth."
Chakotay chuckled, amused that he'd made the same mistake as five years before. Leaning down again, he took Tom back into his mouth and licked and sucked until there was nothing else in the world except him and this pulsating, twitching organ he craved. Well, that organ and its twin, burning between his own legs, desperate for its own release.
Chakotay felt Tom's body coil tensely beneath him, and wondered if he'd had the guts to swallow the last time he'd done this. Probably not, he figured, since it had been his first time giving head. Now, feeling like an old pro, he clamped his lips and sucked a little harder, feeling a heady rush of adrenaline as Tom groaned deep in his throat and exploded into orgasm.
It took a few minutes for Tom to stop shaking, during which time Chakotay sat back and stroked himself gently. There was still plenty of lubricant. The thought of what that lubricant was for excited him tremendously, and by the time Tom pulled him back down to the floor, he was again fully erect and eager.
Chakotay rubbed his cock reflexively against Tom's body, lost in the sensations it produced. God, he must have been pretty damn drunk to have forgotten something that felt as incredible as this did! He was only half aware that Tom was writhing slightly beneath him, arm twisted at an odd angle. When he got a better look, he saw that Tom had his fingers up his own ass, and was pushing them slowly in and out, breathing heavily.
After a few minutes, during which Tom's breath became increasingly uneven and Chakotay's erection became increasingly hard, Tom flipped himself over onto his stomach and raised up on his hands and knees, legs spread invitingly. Chakotay couldn't wait any longer, and grabbed Tom's hips, pushing the tip of his cock right up to Tom's ass and hoping he was heading in the right direction.
Without a sound, Tom shifted slightly and pushed back against Chakotay, and suddenly Chakotay felt his greased erection slide slowly into Tom's ass. Holy gods. He was actually going to do this! He slid another inch into Tom's channel and moaned. Oh, he was definitely going to do this!
When he'd made it in as far as he thought he could, he began to pull back slightly. Tom moaned happily and moved forwards, then back again as Chakotay reversed the motion. Soon they were thrusting together, hard and fast and joyfully.
It seemed to last forever, hours of blissful union, even though it couldn't have been more than a few minutes. When Chakotay finally came, his orgasm washed over him in wave after wave of ecstasy. He cried out hoarsely, in shock and joy, and collapsed heavily onto Tom's back where he lay still, trying to regain some control over his breathing. "Well," he said presently.
Tom chuckled beneath him. "Well?"
Chakotay was unable to think of anything else to say. There weren't any words to describe what he'd just experienced. "That was pretty incredible."
"I'll say," Tom agreed. "More than worth the wait."
It suddenly occurred to Chakotay that Tom was mysteriously clearheaded for someone who'd recently imbibed six glasses of whiskey. And, come to think of it, how had Tom been able to perform in the first place? He might have developed a strong tolerance for alcohol back in his wild drinking days, but he was still human. "Tom," he said suspiciously, "how much whiskey did you have tonight?"
There was a short silence while Tom pondered whether to tell the truth or not. "Half a shot."
Another silence. Chakotay continued his questioning quietly. "What was in those other five glasses?"
"Iced tea," Tom confessed. "I don't get drunk anymore. I can't risk it. Borderline alcoholic, you know. I shouldn't even have had the shot that I did."
"Half a shot," Chakotay corrected automatically, still processing the information that Tom hadn't been the slightest bit inebriated when he proposed this coupling. He had, he realized, been set up. By an expert. He'd probably been doomed the second he listened to Harry's entreaties and went to check on a certain conn officer who wasn't answering his door chime.
"Should have been a whole shot, but I tripped," Tom said, ignoring the way Chakotay's body had suddenly stiffened. "Spilled the whiskey all over the carpet. That's why my quarters smell like liquor."
"I see," Chakotay said tersely. "So you were just pretending to be drunk."
"Are you mad?"
Chakotay sighed. "No. How can I be? It's not like I didn't enjoy myself. Was it this good between us last time?"
"Last time?" Tom repeated in a tiny voice. "Oh god, Chakotay, you don't mean you actually swallowed that line of bullshit, do you?"
Tension laced silence. "What line of bullshit?"
"Geez, Chakotay, you can't honestly have believed we slept together five years ago!"
"But you said . . . "
"For crying out loud. You know I'm full of shit half the time, Chakotay. Why'd you pick tonight to start believing me?"
"But I remember some of it," Chakotay protested. "You did drag me up the stairs."
"No, we dragged each other up the stairs after we finished the bottle of whiskey. We made it to my rooms where we passed out, completely dressed, on the bed. Next morning we got up, you paid off my bar tab with Sandrine, and we left for the DMZ. I remember you had a hell of a hangover."
The hangover, Chakotay remembered clearly. Now that he thought about it, he could also remember waking up in the squalid rooms Tom had occupied and finding himself inches away from the embodiment of all his most repressed fantasies. A man who, at the time, was dirty and unshaven, in dire need of a bath, and completely unalluring.
"So you made the whole story up?"
"Not the whole story," Tom said defensively. "It really is our anniversary today, and I really do celebrate it every year. We just didn't sleep together, that's all."
"Uh huh." Chakotay was quiet for a long time, trying to sort out several conflicting emotions, unsure whether he wanted to kill Tom right away or fuck him again first. The latter seemed a bit more prudent. "Just tell me one thing. Was Harry in on this, too?"
"Harry?" Tom was confused. "Was Harry in on what?"
"This."
"What this?"
"This." Chakotay waved his hand vaguely towards Tom's sweat-slicked body. "Us. Tonight. Was Harry in on it?"
"No." Then, curiously, "Why would you think so?"
"Because Harry is the one who sent me over here," Chakotay explained.
"Why'd he do that?"
Silence. "I thought you told him to send me over here."
"No." Another silence. Then, indignantly, "You think I planned this?"
"Didn't you?"
"No!"
"Then why did you pretend to be drunk when I walked in?"
"Because you expected me to be drunk. I thought it would be funny."
"And you made up that story about us sleeping together . . . why?"
"To shock you. I wanted to see your face when I said we'd slept together."
"So why'd you kiss me?"
"'Cause you didn't look shocked enough when I told you we'd slept together."
"And the rest of it? Was that because I didn't look shocked enough again?"
"No, that was because you're a hell of a good kisser."
"Oh."
"So are you mad?"
"I guess not. Just confused about where this leaves us."
"On my floor." Tom fidgeted uncomfortably. "Can we move to the bed?"
"You sure? Once I get in there, I'm not leaving."
"I was counting on it." The two men dragged themselves off the floor and into the bed, where they snuggled comfortably under the covers. "Chakotay?" Tom muttered.
"Yes?"
"Happy anniversary."
"Happy anniversary to you, too."
*****
THE END
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