Completely His

COMPLETELY HIS

Disclaimer: Paramount owns them, we don't. We still wish we did, but we don't.

Rated R, a strong R, with slightly graphic overtones ;-)

C/P A Flashfic series, being exactly 250 words each excluding titles. Tom's POV and Chakotay's POV. A drunken Tom confesses, Chakotay responds.

Tom's Wanting
By Shayenne

"Don't say anything more." A golden finger presses my lips to silence.

The man I love, the first officer of this ship, renowned for his tact, lives up to his reputation. He wants to stop my drunken words of love and avowal, so that I won't puke in shame when I remember this in the morning. He wants to spare me the curl of embarrassment when I face him on the bridge in uniform, when we collide in the mess hall line.

He looks at me in silence. His full lips have a slight, secret smile on them. Sobriety is returning fast. Words pound through my head with staccato beat: Tommy-boy never learns. Tommy-boy pushes his heart out into the world time and time again, only to have it shoved aside. My litany of self-contempt is interrupted.

"Don't worry, Tom," he says.

A smile in his voice. I imagine him relating this amusing incident to the captain later, and die a little more.

"This is between us," he says seriously.

I love his sympathy nearly as much as I love his hard, bronze body. I want to frame the planes of his face between my hands and slide my tongue between his lips. I want to pull off his shirt and run my hands over the fleshiness of his belly. I want to drop down in front of him, take him in my mouth, taste his salt, smell his excitement. I want what I cannot have.

He kisses me.

Chakotay's Needing
By Cassatt

He stands in front of me, this man I love. I hear his slurred words and my mind cannot comprehend their truth. He's rambling, speaking of love, adoration, and neverending nights together. I stop the torrent with a finger to those beautiful lips. "Don't say anything more," I tell him.

Completely unprepared for this, having been called to remove him from an almost out of control argument with Kenneth, I watch Tom react. I can read him so easily, every nuance of expression is indelibly engraved upon my soul. There is nothing he can think that I don't understand. He is embarrassed, worried he will be ridiculed, contemplating his escape.

I reassure him. I finally accept it all, and my heart is singing. He's telling me the truth. I need to take him in my arms, to hold him and protect him from his own thoughts. To tell him that he is more than this confession. He is everything. To me. But he is still concerned. Can I be trusted?

"This is between us," I say, deadly serious.

I need to show him just how much I love him. It is a visceral need, an overwhelming, all-pervasive thing. It has been part of me for so long I'm almost beyond action. I shake myself. I lean up and kiss him. He must be as surprised as I am, for he barely responds. Then he moans, and kisses me, too. Fervently. I am completely, thoroughly, only his.

Tom's Believing
By Shayenne

Oh god, he's kissing me. Shock holds me suspended. I can feel his lips, warm and dry, slither over mine, but I can't respond.

My head may be swimming in beer, but my heart is daring to hope.

My lips open and I'm kissing him back. My grasp on reality wavers then asserts itself again. I pull him to me, my hand cups his ass.

"Chak," I mumble. I wish my voice was steadier. "What do you want to do with me?"

I've just handed him the kernel of my heart on a platter. If I'm wrong, I'll just space myself and save everyone else the trouble.

He sucks gently on my lower lip, then turns, lifting my arm over his shoulder. "I think we should sleep," he says. "We'll talk in the morning."

His quarters are neat, organized. A reflection of the man himself. He leads me to his bed. He made it this morning. Good thing we're not in my quarters, I can't think when I last recycled my sheets. He strips down to briefs with quiet economical movements. He's beautiful.

"Are you coming, Tom?"

He's in bed, the sheet around his waist. I stumble in my haste, popping buttons off my shirt. My pants are around my knees before I remember my boots. But finally, clumsy Tom makes it under the sheets. Chakotay pulls my head over, onto his chest. An arm curls around me, holding me to his heart.

"Sleep now," he whispers.

And I do.

Chakotay's Dreaming
By Cassatt

I've awoken from a dream that I can't quite remember. All I'm left with is a sense of peace. My arm is asleep and a breeze is blowing into my armpit, which, I believe, has woken me. I open my eyes, engage my brain and it all comes back. Tom. He's sleeping here, deadening my arm, tickling me with his breath. One leg is draped over mine and the pressure in my groin is almost too much. Almost.

He's destined for one helluva hangover and under any other circumstances I'd let it happen, as a lesson. But not this morning, not for this man I love.

I gently remove myself from the bed and look at it in near astonishment. Am I really awake? On my way to the bathroom and the hypospray I stub my toe. Pain is a clear indicator. I'm gloriously awake. Tom is in my bed.

I replicate two vials for him and wonder if the report will get back to the captain. Her XO was drunk. I imagine the gossip. Then the other gossip. The XO and Chief Pilot are lovers. My grin is a wide one.

Climbing carefully back into bed I roll close to him, preparing for injection. His chest hair is beautiful and so soft to the touch. His face is relaxed, serene and worry-free. I inject him twice and he stirs, but does not waken.

I wrap myself around him. Let myself fall back under. To sleep. To dream. With him.

Tom's Loving
By Shayenne

He was gone when I woke in the morning, but the voice message explained his absence - another crisis that only the XO could handle.

And now it's evening, sliding slowly into ship's night. And I'm gliding my hands over Chakotay's body, and it's as close to heaven as I've ever come. We lie on the bed facing one another, and he kisses me for an eternity. How can a kiss be so complete?

He touches my nipples, sieves my chest hair with his fingers, then crawls down my body with his lips. I think I will die when he takes me in his mouth. I look down, see those beautiful lips loving my cock. He's good at this, so good he has me jerking, trying to hold back my climax. It's not enough; I want him with me. I pull him up level with me and run my hands down to his groin; it's no surprise he is hard, satin-shafted steel. I cup his testicles, rigid with arousal, and run my finger around to his ass. I look at him questioningly. I will let the decision be his.

He rolls me over, onto my hands and knees and I feel him poised above me. Cold slather of lube between my cheeks, the welcome press of his cock. Entering me, my body and my soul. Making us one. And finally, I'm in heaven.

"I love you, Chak," I say into the air as I come, spurting hot into his hands.

Chakotay's Loving
By Cassatt

Sweet Spirits. "I love you, Tom," I say. Repeatedly. To him, inside him, surrounding him. Could I be feeling this any more intensely? I don't believe so. I honestly don't. If I'd had any idea that making love with him could be like this, what would I have done, I wonder?

He is in my arms, kissing my neck, running his hand over me. Tracing paths of pleasure on my skin. His leg on mine belongs there. If I'd had any idea, I might have stood before him, declaring my love first. Shouted it from the middle of Sandrine's, the bridge, the mess hall, the shuttle bay, the Delta Quadrant.

"I love you, Tom," I murmur in his ear.

He raises his head to look me in the eye. The blue I see is bright and absolutely beautiful. "If I tell you this is heaven, will you run?" he asks.

"No. You can't get rid of me that easily."

He considers my answer, my sincerity. "This is heaven, Chak..."

Would that I could hear him call me that whenever we're together and not just in private. Then everyone would know. Would hear it in his voice. He loves me. Tom Paris loves me. Maybe I could shout that out instead. I pull his head down and kiss him so deeply there is no part of him I cannot taste. Where our skin touches it's pure heat, and it's getting hotter. I caress him. I need to show him, again, how much I love him. Again.

END

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