Title: Gentlemen's Agreement, 14/16 Author: Jaye (Copyright June 2002) Codes: C/P NC-17 Disclaimer: Star Trek, Voyager and all related characters and concepts are the property of Paramount. No infringement is intended or profit made. This is NC-17 for m/m sex. If you aren't interested (or aren't old enough), don't read it. Archive: Drop me a note first so I know where it's going. Please keep the text (especially the disclaimer) intact. Feedback: Sure but be kind, or at least constructive. E-mail is reader8901@fastmail.fm Summary: An alien royal makes Chakotay an offer he can't refuse. Note: Slightly AU, P/T never happened and I don't know how canon Chakotay dresses off duty. Also, Tom's 30, Chakotay 39. *************** PART FOURTEEN /You are hopeless. Absolutely hopeless,/ Chakotay chided himself as he lay on his side, head propped on one hand, once again watching Tom sleep. By all rights he should also be in the arms of Morpheus, still recovering from a mentally and physically exhausting experience. Instead, he had been awake for hours. As if he couldn't bear to waste a precious second of the time he had left with Tom. There would be plenty of opportunity to sleep later. When he was alone. A tiny smile lifted one corner of the full lips as dark eyes roamed the now gracelessly sprawled limbs of his sleeping beauty. Chakotay had awakened with the holographic Rutali sun to find Tom wound around him in a pretty successful impression of a six-foot human python. It had taken several careful minutes to extricate himself from the tangle and escape the bed. It had been important to do so. This morning, Chakotay preferred to be dressed before Tom woke. He also wanted to make sure the evidence of yesterday's activities was cleared away. He didn't want anything to cause the younger man unnecessary anxiety. Once out of earshot he deleted all of the holographic toys and chains in the room, and checked that no bloodstains marred the white marble of the floor leading from the arches to the pool. The food and drinks had been recycled, and he'd also cleaned and packed away his outfit. After setting up the breakfast dishes he gave in to temptation and returned to the Regent's bed. And the regal figure taking up a significant amount of it. It was a bittersweet pleasure, simply watching. Absorbing the rise and fall of the golden-furred chest, the wide mouth murmuring half-words, the handsome features creasing into frowns or smiles brought on by the images in dreams, then smoothing out again to peaceful slumber. Knowing this was the last time he would see Tom Paris, his lover. The beautiful siren who had unknowingly captured him, body and soul. /If only.../ The thought came with a sigh. So many impossibilities tied up in those two little words. If only he wasn't a day away from becoming an alien's whore. If only he and Tom had come together under different circumstances. If only it wasn't so obvious that Chakotay would never be the type of person the younger man preferred to romance. If only Tom didn't have a reputation for amiably dumping people the moment things got serious. If only Tom would trust him. If only Tom loved him. Wishing wouldn't make it so. Last night, Tom may have seemed like a man staking a claim, with his fierce possession and demanding words. But Chakotay knew better than to take anything said in the heat of passion to heart. He had learned that lesson the hard way, and didn't need an awkward scene with his current companion to reinforce it. No, he wasn't Tom's. Tom wasn't his. And it was time to end the agreement between them and set his siren free. When their affair had started, Chakotay had wrangled a promise from the blond to stay until Voyager reached the Rutali homeworld. But now the older man found he couldn't bear to literally go from Tom's arms to Nedal's. His courtesan training period had forged a deep, but all-too-brief connection with his "Professor", and he didn't want to sully those memories with comparisons to his experiences with the Regent. So Chakotay needed some time alone to put aside his feelings. He would bury the fires of love and passion, and wait. In time he would discover if spending days away from Tom and immersed in an alien culture would leave the embers still softly glowing, or if they would burn out to cold ash. He wasn't sure which outcome to hope for. His attention was drawn by the stirring and yawning that accompanied Tom's climb to wakefulness. Chakotay burned one final image onto his brain, then swiftly rose and sat on the side of the bed, pretending to slip on his shoes. As desperately as he wanted to see the first morning-after thoughts reflected in the blue eyes, he couldn't invade the sleep-muddled man's privacy that way. Tom would share as much or as little of himself as he chose. As had been true since the start of their unusual relationship. *************** Tom frowned at waking alone again, and frowned some more at how disturbed he was by the condition. It wasn't as though he should be accustomed to a body beside him in bed. Before this week, the only other person he'd ever actually spent the night with was Harry. And he'd been pretty restless in his best friend's cabin. Tom had always figured he just couldn't be comfortable unless he was alone. /So much for *that* theory./ He turned his head to see a loosely clothed back. The shoulder was completely hidden. It seemed a frown *was* the appropriate expression for this morning. "You shouldn't have gotten dressed, Chak. I wanted to make sure I didn't miss anything last night." /And maybe gotten the chance to kiss all those hurts better./ He was a little anxious to meet the dark gaze as Chakotay turned. The sense of peace created by last night's gentle kiss had dissipated like a wisp of smoke. Tom's gut twisted at the possibility of seeing fear, disgust, or anger cooling the customary warmth in the brown eyes. Friendship, and the heat of passion; these were now what he expected from his Titan. He wasn't sure if he could survive the shock if all of it had disappeared. Then Chakotay's hearth-fire glow of gratitude and a quick, dimple-hinting smile set Tom's soul at ease. "Thank you, but I'm fine. A little sore, but that'll fade soon enough." Chakotay rested one hand on a fine-boned wrist and squeezed gently, trying to communicate reassurance. "Believe me, Tom, everything's all right. *We're* all right. Okay?" "Yeah." The blond started to slide from the bed, his eyes immediately drawn to the blue robe sitting at the foot. The one from the last few days. *Not* the probably torn Rutali garment. He raised an eyebrow as he shrugged into the covering. "You've been busy." Chakotay had been glad that Tom's outfit from the night before was holographic. He'd have hated to chase down all those fasteners ripped from their threads by the younger man's enthusiasm. "A bit. I've been awake for a while." He stood and gestured to Tom's overnight bag. "Why don't you get dressed and I'll get breakfast ready." Tom picked up the case and made his way through the archway. Though it seemed that the two men hadn't lost their connection, he sensed a difference in Chakotay's demeanor. It wasn't quite the reserve of a few days ago. He couldn't say exactly what changed, but he was sure something had. Until he had a better grasp of the situation though, he'd let things be. Tom hurried through his preparations for the day. *************** Chakotay fiddled with his napkin and fidgeted in his seat. He half-rose and reached over to shift a small package wrapped in green fabric and white cloth ribbon that sat beside Tom's plate at their cozy table. Satisfied that the object was perfectly placed---again---he resettled. Stared at the arrangements. Considered tweaking the ribbon. And nearly jumped at the scraping sound as Tom pulled out his chair. "What's under the cover this time, soup?" Tom teased, remembering their last breakfast together. He dropped his eyes to the table and chanced upon the small parcel near his fork. He lifted it, gauging its weight. "What's this?" /Spirits, will I *ever* stop blushing?/ Chakotay could feel the burning spots on his cheeks. "It's a gift...to thank you for all your help." He smiled nervously and held his breath as long pale fingers loosened the ribbon holding the tiny bundle secure. Tom focused completely on the carved wooden figurine the second it was revealed. His breath let out in a quiet puff of wonder as he dared to touch a single finger to the miniature bird resting on its background of green. Its eyes reflected alert intelligence and independence, its body poised to leap into the air. A creature who knew the whole of the sky was its domain. The detail was exquisite, from each feather on the breast and wings to the texture of its talons. Freedom embodied in a work of art smaller than his thumb. "It's beautiful," he said, his voice a reverent whisper as he moved to place the carving in his palm. He lifted his eyes to Chakotay's. "What is it?" "It's a hawk, and also a promise." He cleared his throat and continued, holding the bright gaze. "I brought some uncut wood back with me from New Earth. A bit of it went to making your totem," he nodded toward the bird. "When I get the time, I'll carve a flute for it to rest upon." He dropped his eyes shyly as his voice muffled with uncertainty. "You seemed very taken with mine the other night. I thought you might appreciate having one of your own." "Really?" Tom was stunned. It was true, he'd loved the haunting sound of Chakotay's music, and been reluctant to release the wooden reed back to its owner. "I don't know what to say, Chakotay, except thank you." He reached his free hand across the table to rest on a bronzed counterpart. "I would be honored to accept such a gift." "I'm glad." Chakotay smiled and turned his hand to clasp the pale fingers. The two men sat silently for a moment, just staring at each other. Then Chakotay withdrew and shrugged. "I'm not sure when I'll be finished it, though." "Take your time," Tom replied, blinking as if waking up again. He carefully re-wrapped the hawk and moved it out of harm's way. The covered dish soon revealed Belgian waffles with strawberries and cream. "I'm sure going to miss dining with you, Chak," he winked as he dug in. "I'll miss it too," Chakotay echoed softly. Something about the wistful undertone alerted Tom. "Of course," he said casually, "we could have dinner together tonight if you like, and breakfast tomorrow." /Even if we're back to eating Talaxian Surprise in the Mess Hall./ "Actually, Tom, I think it's best if we don't." Chakotay looked up from his own meal. "I don't think there's anything else I need to learn." /Or more honestly, considering the extreme acts left in the Rutali book, nothing else I want you to teach me./ He made a vague gesture with his fork. "And I have the feeling I'm going to be living in a fishbowl on Ruta, so I'd like to have some privacy before we get there tomorrow." Tom's protest was instinctive. "But we're supposed to---" "I know, I'm releasing you from our agreement." Chakotay relaxed, hiding the incipient ache of separation. /There, it's done. Time to move forward./ "Don't worry, I didn't forget that I owe you the story behind my 'beige sacks' as you so charmingly call them. I just hope you're not too disappointed. Remember, I did say it was silly." "Um, all right then, I guess." The sweetness of the strawberries wasn't enough to cover the tang of disappointment in Tom's mouth. Now *he* felt on edge, the opposite of his calmly eating companion. He hadn't been given any warning. He hadn't even gotten the chance to come to grips with the intensity of their last sexual encounter and now he was being told that it really was their *last* encounter. The affair was over. Just like that. /Hey, it's no big deal, right? I'm not sure what we would have done for an encore anyway./ At least that's what Tom tried to tell himself. His brows drew together. "Are we going to discuss last night?" he asked quietly. "Yes. I still need to pick my five refusals, as well." Chakotay contemplated his plate. "I figured we could wait until we're done eating to get down to business." "Sounds like a plan," Tom said lightly as his mind skittered around the sharp edges of his disappointment. /Business, right. Keep your mind on the job, Tommyboy. But my job was fucking Chakotay. Now I'm out of work. Damn, Chak really worked those clothes./ "By the way, your outfit was spectacular." /Nice move, guy. Now you're frustrated *and* horny./ He nearly groaned at his own ill-timed recollections. Chakotay snorted in disbelief but merely said, "Thanks. I made the best of a bad fashion situation." "I'm surprised though, most of the other choices looked like they had more material." Tom was genuinely curious, since the amount of skin on display last evening was definitely not his Titan's usual style. "Yes, but they only looked that way in the book. I tried on quite a few of those outfits in my cabin before bringing that one here. There might not have been much fabric in what I was wearing but at least it was opaque." The dark brows quirked ruefully. "The weave on the others was so open or the threads so thin they were practically transparent. I would have gotten better coverage from a forcefield." Tom grinned lasciviously, forgetting his troubles for a moment. "Damn. I knew I should have pushed for that second fashion show." "You didn't have a chance. What you saw was bad enough." Chakotay recalled the fact that Tom wouldn't be the only one seeing him in the scanty Larat outfit. He immediately lost his appetite, abruptly wiping his mouth and standing. "I'm finished. Would you like some coffee or tea?" "Coffee, please. I'm done here too." Tom sobered also, got up and carefully carried his totem to a table in front of a cream brocade sofa. He settled into a corner and watched the older man carry over a tray with cups and accompaniments. Chakotay set down the beverages and fetched the Rutali book, also laying it on the table. He glanced over at his companion with a slight grin as he lifted his tea. Tom was again perfectly situated for hearing a story. Genuine fondness, as well as love, lifted his spirits once more simply at the sight of his siren. His mood was much improved by the time he took a sip of the just-right blend of strawberry and spices. He indicated the cup. "This was one of my mother's favorite herbal blends. It took me a long time to replicate." Tom tasted his mug of java. Smooth, warm, rich---the descriptions could be applied to his companion's voice as well as his coffee. He relaxed into the cushions and the conversation. "Was it a secret family recipe?" he teased. "Something like that." Chakotay smiled softly in reminiscence. "We used to make everything from scratch at my house---I was six or seven before I saw somebody actually using a replicator to produce anything other than raw materials." He met surprised blue eyes as he continued. "When you're working with home-grown strawberries, they don't turn out the same every time. Sometimes they're really sweet, or they're not quite ripe enough." He chuckled. "Mama used to plant hers in wooden tubs at the end of the yard. You could see the fruits as they matured, nestled against their green leaves. She used to warn us not to filch any. It was a temptation, let me tell you. Only the thoughts of her shortcakes and jams would keep them safe from us kids." "And of course, the tea." Tom said, enchanted by the image of a young Chakotay's dilemma, dusky fingers hovering over a selection of forbidden treats. "Yes, the tea. She would dry the berries to concentrate the flavor. And add the spices, matching them to the sweetness of each particular batch." Chakotay took another sip. "So every time I'd finish programming the ingredients into Voyager's system, I'd feel it needed just one more adjustment." "So how did you finally get it right?" Tom asked, beginning to wish he'd asked for tea as well. "I didn't. The computer randomly selects one of a handful of different versions." He shrugged, "So I never know exactly what I'll get." "A good reminder for life." Tom tilted his head. "I bet your mother would be proud of your cooking skills." "I like to think so. Especially when I'm working from scratch." One bronzed hand toyed with a fold of loose cloth. "I didn't always feel that way though." He looked up. "There was a brief time when I didn't dress like this either." "So what is the story?" Blue eyes focused on the curved lips a moment before the words started to penetrate his brain. "Well, there's a downside to shunning technology. You not only don't use replicators, but you eschew recyclers as well. Which meant nothing was ever wasted. We rarely had anything new. When things broke, they were repaired. My parents never threw anything away until it completely wore out." Chakotay's eyes twinkled. "That included clothes. As the youngest child in a fairly large family, my entire wardrobe was hand-me-downs." He lifted one arm to demonstrate a loose, swinging sleeve. "And my brothers were always bigger than me. I thought that clothes were *supposed* to hang on you like a sack. Everything I had would be cuffed, or hemmed, but still ended up baggy." Tom's gaze sharpened with understanding. "So when you left home, that's when you began to wear more tailored styles." The dark head nodded. "Yep. Especially after I got a look at what everyone else had, and how easy it was to adjust the settings on a replicator. It was during that period that I took up the flamenco." "What made you go back to this?" Tom's hand indicated the draperies currently swathing the muscular form. Chakotay cradled the cup between his hands, as if warming them. He sounded a little sad. "For all my enthusiasm, I never felt comfortable in clingy outfits. Not like myself. I started to question if I had done the right thing, turning my back on everything I grew up with. So I started making some changes. Gradual ones. The next thing I knew I was 'flapping about in loose clothes,' to quote you." His brief glimmer of humor faded. "And when Dorvan fell to the Cardassians, it became a kind of affirmation to myself. That I'm still a member of a people who aren't ashamed of hand-me-downs, and part of a fairly large family." His eyes had a faint sheen to them as he looked at Tom. "That my siblings are still alive, and that my brothers are still bigger than me." He looked down into his nearly empty cup, and gave an embarrassed shrug. "I told you it was silly." Tom reached out to rest his hand on the older man's knee. "No, it's not. It's a special story, and I'm glad you shared it with me." He leaned in confidingly, trying to lift his companion's spirits. "And I promise I won't tell the Captain, even if she orders me." Chakotay flashed him a grateful look and bantered back, "She's too smart for that. She may try to bribe you though." The two men chuckled and finished their drinks. "You know, Tom, these last few days have been pretty rough on you." The bronzed features had shifted once more to a serious cast. "If you need to talk with someone, it's okay." He admitted, "The Captain knows about us because she was there when I got the offer of Larat, and I told Ken, because I wanted him to keep an eye on Kathryn. But if you'd rather confide in Harry or B'Elanna, you can tell them as much as you need to." "Thanks, Chak, but I think I'll be okay. You're the one who's dealing with a lot of things for the first time." The blue eyes dropped. "Not to mention what happens tomorrow." Chakotay ignored the reference to things to come. "Well, if you change your mind, remember what I said." He paused, then chose a new topic. "Let's talk about the Larat's duties now." He set down his cup and picked up the ornately bound volume, laying it open on his lap. "So, Tom, where would you like to begin?" "With an apology." Tom leaned forward earnestly. "I didn't mean to hurt you last night, Chak, I just---" "Don't Tom. There's nothing to be sorry for." Chakotay met the younger man halfway, putting one solid finger on the suddenly stilled lips. "You did everything I needed you to do. I know you didn't mean for things to get so wild. Both of us got carried away." He dropped his hand and settled back with a lift of brows. "And remember, we were in a holodeck. I could have ended things at any time." His eyes were steady. "I chose not to." He tilted his chin slightly, a hint of pride. "And I'm not ashamed of either of us. So I'd appreciate it if you stopped acting as if you've done something wrong." Tom was amazed. He was not only being forgiven, but practically applauded for his actions. "But it was so brutal---" "No." Chakotay cut him off again, quietly. "No, Tom, you weren't brutal, or cruel. You weren't deliberately trying to humiliate or demean me. As strange as it sounds, you did your best to make sure I felt safe. And I'm grateful. In fact, you made me realize that a lot of what the Larat is expected to do, I can't handle. Because I won't be with you." "What do you mean, you felt *safe*?" Tom's arm flailed, betraying his bewilderment. "If I had Rutali claws, Chak, I'd have flayed you alive." He searched the brown eyes for explanations. "No you wouldn't. You stopped the moment you thought you did some real damage. And yes, I did feel safe with you. You never lost sight of the fact that for all intents and purposes I couldn't refuse you. I certainly wasn't complaining at the time. Everything is healed. Now, can you just accept that I know what I'm talking about and let this go?" Chakotay's expression held a touch of desperation. He didn't know how else to persuade Tom, and his heart twisted at the thought of the man he loved beating himself up this way unnecessarily. Tom realized that his insistence on casting himself as a villain forced Chakotay into the role of victim. And he couldn't ever see the strong man beside him in that way. So he relented, finally accepting what happened as a sexually intense moment between consenting adults. He nodded with a firm "Yes." Chakotay took a deep breath, relieved. He shifted and looked at the book, trying to bring things back to some semblance of normal conversation. Of course, it wasn't really what he would call a conventional chat. "So, let's talk about the refusals. You've already said that fisting should be on the list." "And restraints *have* to be." Tom's expression was grave. "Maybe it's true that you weren't in danger with me, but with Nedal...." "I agree," Chakotay said, nodding. "Fisting, restraints, blindfolds---" "Blindfolds? I didn't think you were all that affected by that," came the puzzled interjection. "For a good reason, Tom. I knew you were with me." Chakotay lifted a hand, palm up. "By your touch, your warmth, your scent, your taste...I didn't need to see you to be comforted, and reassured." He looked away. "I know I won't be able to trust anyone else like that, though." Tom felt a warmth deep inside at that admission. His voice was tender. "Thank you for telling me. You didn't have to." "It's the truth." /The only one I can share with you./ The older man shrugged. "And again considering who I'll be with, I think pain needs to be refused as well. Especially since I doubt Nedal would choose the lightest strap available to administer it." "Shit, that only leaves one more slot." Tom leaned forward, reading the book upside-down. "What are your options?" "Well," Chakotay flipped around the gilt-edged pages. "Gags, inserted toys, other toys, cock rings...and all of the sex acts, in each of the depicted positions." His voice and manner had gotten more and more serious as he looked at the pictures and was reminded that he would be bringing them to life tomorrow. But not with Tom. The younger man's thoughts were flowing along the same path. He didn't want to remember his jealousy, or possessiveness of the night past. There was no point. Tom couldn't stop Chakotay from fulfilling his obligations on Ruta as the Larat. He had no right to, especially since he wasn't willing to offer a real relationship as an incentive to stay aboard Voyager. He deliberately wrenched his mind from the subject, suddenly eager to escape. While a few days ago he was determined to prevent Chakotay from ending their fling before time, now he was grateful for the reprieve. He wanted out, now. He could think about things later. When he was alone. His voice held a push, a touch of impatience. "Go with your gut reaction, then. What causes the most anxiety when you think of it?" In that instant Chakotay wanted this meeting finished. The memories of Tom were too close to being mixed with images of Nedal as he considered his now ex-lover's query. He closed the book with a decided snap. "I'll need to think before I have an answer to that question. There's plenty of time for me to choose the last refusal, now that you've helped with the other four." He stood, and noticed how quickly the lanky body across from him leapt to its feet. A sad mental sigh accompanied the awareness that Tom was as anxious to leave as Chakotay was to evict him. He was touched, though, by the care with which Tom carried his gift. Chakotay waited a moment while Tom grabbed his overnight bag, then called for the arch and escorted the blond to the holodeck doors. They paused on the threshold. "I guess this is it then," Tom said. The blue eyes were looking everywhere except at their darker counterparts. Tom concentrated on feeling nothing. He was ready to jump to freedom the second the opening appeared. Chakotay spent a few moments feasting on the gold-accented beauty, then captured the younger man's lowered chin. When he had Tom's attention, he gave him a soft, knowing smile. "Thank you," he whispered, then leaned up for a chaste kiss. Their last. Tom was surprised into immobility a second, then melted into the lush mouth as he always did. But this time he sensed no passion in the touch of soft lips against his own. Only a kind of finality and farewell. It ended much too quickly. Chakotay nodded and gently pushed Tom out into the corridor. The portal slid shut and re-locked, and he finally relaxed the tight rein on his emotions. He laid one palm against the door. /Good-bye, my siren,/ he thought, and turned away. ************************************************************ Sisryn started when the door to her office opened to admit Milady. The older woman's expression already answered the question, but the Chief Consul asked anyway. "He wouldn't see you either?" "No." The older Rutali flopped into one of the visitor chairs and put her feet on Sisryn's desk. "He has apparently left orders not to be disturbed for anything less than a challenge to his reign." She grimaced. "He even had cold meals sent in this morning, so he doesn't have to come out of his cabin to eat." "How are the prides taking the Regent's seclusion? And do you have *any* idea what he's doing in there?" The confusion was clear in the younger woman's voice. "So far, Nedal's been a non-issue. People are too focused on the Larat's arrival to concern themselves with a moody ruler." Milady stood and paced a little, frowning. "As for what he's doing...I asked the cub who brought up the food what he saw in the Regent's rooms." She stopped and looked at Sisryn, eyes grave. "Books. Several of them. All on Rutali law and tradition in regards to the Larat." "Oh no," Sisryn breathed. "What do you think Nedal is searching for?" "I don't know, and that's what worries me." She braced her hands on Sisryn's desk. "We have a Larat who has caused a sensation among our people. His...perspective on things has pushed the price of Privilege beyond anything I've seen. But Nedal isn't looking beyond his own wounded pride and thwarted desires. *I* think he's seeking a legal way of harming Chakotay." "And if he can find a method that doesn't violate the law, I'll have to go along with his plans. It's what I've sworn to do." The Chief Consul gripped her seal, anguish evident in the whitened knuckles. Her miserable eyes met Milady's. "All we can do is hope the refusals will keep the Regent in check." "Yes. Though I doubt the Celestials had Nedal in mind when they created the tradition." She sighed. "Otherwise the Larat would have twenty, instead of just five." Th two women stared tensely at each other, knowing that the Regent would make his move soon enough. ************************************************************ "So where's Tom? I thought he was meeting us for dinner." B'Elanna twirled her pasta with a fork. "He was supposed to, but cancelled at the last minute." Harry's brow creased in concern. "It's weird. He sounded really anxious to do something tonight. It was almost like he had no idea how to spend his time, now that he was done helping Chakotay with his project." A dozen questions crowded behind B'Elanna's lips, but she simply chewed and swallowed them with her next bite of food. She'd made a promise not to pry into Chakotay's business, so she wouldn't. No matter how frustrated she got. "Maybe I should invite Helmboy to a bat'leth match. If he has excess energy to work off, that'll do it." "Maybe. I can't figure him out. I heard he spent his day off wandering the ship. I got the impression he didn't want to be alone. Now all of a sudden he's incommunicado and doesn't want to be disturbed." Harry shook his head. "I'll be glad when we're through the wormhole. Maybe then things can get back to normal." "You just want to be sure that Rutali Regent can't sneak up on you again," B'Elanna teased, then sobered. "I'm a little worried about Chakotay, though, alone on that planet for who knows how long." Harry laid one hand over his companion's. "I'm sure the Commander will be fine. Nedal may not like him, but those ladies seem to. And it won't be more than a month. Probably much less." B'Elanna flashed him a grateful smile, but simply said, "I hope you're right, Harry. I truly do." Neither of them noticed the eavesdropper who swiftly left the Mess Hall. *************** Tom stared at the wooden bird in his palm, his still body a counterpoint to his whirling thoughts. He had spent the day in the opposite condition, constantly on the move throughout Voyager as he avoided thinking about the events of the last few days. But just as he was setting out for an evening with Harry, he'd caught sight of Chakotay's gift, sitting on his table loosely wrapped. In a daze, he commed his friend and called off their plans. Then he'd settled on the sofa and uncovered the tiny figurine. Touching the bird had brought memories of the hands that carved it, and images of the bronzed skin led to other thoughts. He sighed and admitted defeat. Despite his best efforts at distraction and his days-old avowal to Chakotay, it looked like he would *not* simply be going back to his life. There were too many emotions that refused to be suppressed. /But how, exactly, do I feel about Chakotay?/ That question was too big; he couldn't make any sense of the maelstrom in his soul. Desire, joy, pain, anxiety---all of them emerging and blending back into the swirl so quickly he couldn't grasp just one to examine its causes and consequences. He took a deep breath and tried again. /Okay. Let's go back. What's changed?/ He thought he'd settled things in his mind that night he ended up surprising Chakotay at the fountain. He feared the intimacy that Chakotay offered, so he would avoid emotional entanglements but reap the physical rewards of their affair. /Well, that *was* the plan./ Then Chakotay had revealed his own insecurities, and Tom had abandoned his agenda in order to provide reassurance. Their joining that night was emblazoned on his memory, tenderness and passion entwined like the clasp of their hands. The blue eyes closed a moment, overwhelmed. /All right, so he's like no other lover I've ever had. But that doesn't *mean* anything./ Then the fight. The nebulous fears Tom had for his own soul paled in the face of the real danger Chakotay had been in. The sight of blood staining his lover's sleeve had sent his heart leaping into his throat and he'd only prevented his body from following by clutching his seat in a death grip. It had been a telling moment, one that still sent a chill down his spine. /Okay, so I didn't want Chakotay to get hurt. Not surprising, considering we've been friends and colleagues for years as well as temporary bedmates./ He knew how hollow that dismissal sounded, but decided it was good enough and moved on. Which brought him to last night's arousing, alarming encounter. Tom had never felt possessive of his lovers; they simply weren't important enough for him to care. He had never been particularly rough either, with women or men. Tom shook his head as he recalled what he had done to the bronzed body in the throes of passion. At the desire that had burned hotter as each chain was secured and each piece of clothing removed. At the surge of satisfaction he'd felt at each mark he'd bestowed that proved Chakotay was *his*. Even before he'd stepped on the holodeck last night he'd been filled with anger and jealousy, backed by the utter certainty of his claim on his Titan. But that was a lie, born out of the fantasy world the two men had crafted in the last week. Even if Chakotay had accepted the touch of violence as simply an extension of their passion, Tom was still disturbed. Because he had reveled in the knowledge that the older man was his to take, his to have, his to keep. And the fact was that Tom still wanted Chakotay. At his side, teasing and talking; in his arms, kissing and caressing; in his bed, meeting and merging. But he wanted more than just to own the beautiful body. He wanted the wise mind, warm heart, compassionate soul. Yes, while he may never speak the words, Tom loved Chakotay. But not enough. Not enough to risk losing himself in the other man. To chance the surrender of his essence to another person, the way his mother had given up her very spirit to Owen. The conflict between these truths was the source of Tom's current confusion and discomfort. Because there was a now-constant tug of war in his mind and heart. Love, drawing him toward the man who inflamed his senses and stirred his emotions. And fear, soul-deep and years old burning along his nerves, urging him to stay as far away from Chakotay as possible. Tom unconsciously clenched his hands, and felt the press of the carving in his palm. He hurriedly checked it for damage, and carefully set the hawk down. This morning had brought the clashing feelings to a new level. He'd been drawn more powerfully than ever to Chakotay during most of their conversation, but ended up repelled by the frank discussion of the older man's coming tenure with Nedal. He'd fled the holodeck, glad that Chakotay had made the decision to end their agreement a day early. Tom figured he escaped just in time, while he could still put all these disruptive feelings behind him. Chakotay was right; he wasn't Tom's type. He was too powerful, too overwhelming, too dangerous to Tom's carefully constructed rules for living. It was best to go forward and just think of their relationship as a few sessions of great sex. And what he was feeling now wasn't despair at missing his chance at love because of his own cowardice. It wasn't. He was really filled with relief, that he had avoided love's trap, whole and intact. /What a crock./ Tom curled up on his couch and tried to quiet his disbelieving mind. And aching heart. *************** Ken rang the chime again and considered comming Kathryn for an override. Finally the door opened and he entered a darkened cabin. "Paris?" he called, peering through the gloom. "Wha---Dalby? I thought you were Harry." Tom was sitting up, scrubbing his face. His eyes narrowed warily. "Just what can I do for you?" Ken took a chair without permission. "Tell me that you're perfectly fine about the 'help' you gave Chakotay, and I'll be merrily on my way." "What are you talking about?" Tom asked, on edge. "Well, I'm sure the Chief told you that I know the truth about his being the Larat and what it entails. He asked me to look after Kathryn so he wouldn't have to worry about her. He's going to be under a lot of pressure down on the planet," Ken shook his head at his own understatement, "so I'm making sure he won't need to be stressing about you, either." Tom hoped he looked nonchalant and calm on the surface, even if his emotions were still in a turmoil. "You can set your mind at ease, Dalby. Chakotay and I had a few good times together, but now it's over and I'm ready to move on." "Bullshit." Blond brows rose. "Excuse me?" "You heard me. I happened to catch an interesting conversation in the Mess Hall just now. You've apparently been flitting all over the ship like a hopped-up social butterfly. And that was your plan for the evening, too, until you decided to play hermit at the last minute. Neither role suits you, Paris, so why don't you just come clean. What's bothering you?" His eyes narrowed. "Chakotay kicked you out a day ahead of schedule. Why, did you play too rough?" Tom felt himself flush at the partial truth even as he denied it. "Not that it's any of your business, but Chakotay wanted some privacy before he had to beam down to the Regent's palace. It had nothing to do with...anything we did together." "Okay, so the Chief is fine and just wanted some time alone. Why are *you* here hiding in your cabin? That's not your usual reaction to the end of one of your flings." "Look, it's no big deal, I just wanted to be by myself for a little while." /You're crazy if you think I'm having a heart-to-heart with you./ "I'm just a little tired and decided to have an early night." "Yeah, right, tell me another one." The tall man moved to put his boots on the table, and nearly fell off his chair when his feet were violently shoved away. He watched in surprise as Tom snatched a tiny object from the low surface, cradling it protectively as he raised the lights. "What's that?" "None of your business, Dalby. Now get out." Tom reflexively examined the carving, making sure it hadn't been damaged. Keen eyes caught a glimpse of wood carefully clutched in long fingers. /So, that's the way it is./ The ex-Maquis absorbed the new information and what it implied. Ken looked at the defensive man glaring down at him, pondering. Now that he knew to look he could see the hints of emotion, of conflict. /It would be ironic, that's for sure. Still...Chakotay deserves to be happy. If Paris is the one to do that, then so be it./ He frowned, thinking of what his former Captain would be facing in Nedal's bed, and he once more stared at Tom. /I just hope you're strong enough to handle all of this./ "I think I've been reading this situation all wrong." Ken's voice was quiet. "You're more than upset because things between you and Chakotay ended early. You didn't want them to end at all." "That's ridiculous," Tom said, moving to place the hawk safely on a shelf. He focused on it, willing indignation into his voice. "Chakotay and I agreed that the affair was only temporary. So Nedal would have a seasoned Larat and Voyager could get farther through the wormhole." "And I bet you experienced a lot of things while you were with the Chief." Ken spoke slowly, feeling his way. "Maybe emotions you never had before. Maybe they scared you, but now all you can do is wish you were still with him." Hazel eyes sought blue. "That you could be honest with him. And with yourself." Tom swallowed. He barely managed to respond, "Even if that's true, it doesn't matter. Chakotay would want a relationship. Of equals. And I can't give him that because...well, it's too complicated to explain. Just that even if I wanted to, there's no way I could love him." He shrugged. "Besides, Chakotay is going to be staying with the Regent. Whatever we had was going to be over then, anyway." "Not if you don't want it to be, and have the courage to admit it. But you have to act before we get to the planet. Otherwise, Chakotay will probably think you just feel sorry for what he went through. But you still have tonight. You should make it count." Ken felt exasperation rise at the dismissive shrug that was Tom's only reply. He took a deep breath and sought patience and wisdom. He found it in thoughts of Kathryn, and the love they shared. And how he had come to be dining with her one special night under an alien moon. "You know," Ken began reflectively, successfully putting his feet on the table this time, "I used to be a lot like you. Angry, afraid. It was safer not to feel anything for people because I had already lost everyone, everything, to the Cardassians. Except my pain. I spent a lot of lonely years that way." Tom didn't want to know the answer, but felt compelled to ask. "What changed your mind? The Captain?" "No, Chakotay." Ken wasn't looking at Tom anymore, but at his own past. "He'd lost his fiancée, then a few years later his father. His homeworld. Maybe his entire family. Yes, he was hurt and angry. But he never hid from that pain, or let it change him. He still reached out to people. Still took the risk that came with caring." A sigh accompanied the next uncomfortable admission. "At first, I thought that made Chakotay a sap. I mean, he was reserved a lot of the time, and he's always been low-key. But not when it's the deep feelings, the important ones. He grieved when we lost people. Ached for the refugees we couldn't help. Gradually I realized that he was stronger for it. A better captain, a better man. And because he was willing to put himself on the line, he earned the respect and loyalty of some of the toughest men and women I've ever met. Including me." There was a moment of quiet, then Dalby continued. "Chakotay teaches by example more than any other person I've ever known. And he isn't even aware of it. He just...lives. The best way he knows how. And by having the courage to be himself, he shows you how to find that strength too." Ken dropped his eyes to his folded hands. "It took me a long time to learn those lessons, though, to take the chance of being a whole person again. One who trusted, hoped, risked. One who loved." He looked at Tom again. "I don't know how Chakotay feels about you, what you feel or what's holding you back. But I can tell you this. The Chief will never lie to you, and if he does love you, then you will be the most important thing in his life. He'll give you everything, he never holds back. But you have to let him know you want it. Because he'll never force himself on anyone. Especially if he thinks there's no hope." He fell silent. /Could Chakotay love me? Do I want him to? Can I love him?/ Tom considered Dalby's words, and his own experiences with Chakotay. From the first day the older man had done everything he could to put Tom at ease. Despite his stoic reputation, he'd been open in sharing his worries and feelings. Chakotay had agreed to every act of passion between them. But it was more than that. Tom closed his eyes, letting the memories wash over him. Lips, soft and bestowing pleasure. Hands, caressing and gentle, speaking without words. Communicating wonder, gratitude, acceptance, joy. And always, with every touch and movement, Chakotay showed his trust. In Tom...and in himself. Eyelids snapped open to reveal an unfocused sapphire gaze. Tom chewed his lip, brows furrowing in concentration. Dalby was right. Even as he absorbed lessons on sex from his "Professor", Chakotay had been teaching Tom about emotional connection. Unfortunately, his student wasn't so bright. Tom had been completely oblivious, but now he saw their time together with new eyes. Chakotay hadn't been hiding his reactions, or faking anything. He'd been scared, uncertain, annoyed, hurt...honest. His words, his expressions, his reactions, everything plain to see. And yet, even in this vulnerability he was still the strong man he had always been. Chakotay was a generous lover, but not a passive one. He was giving, and accepting, but always by his own choice. Even in a situation where circumstances dictated his total submission, the older man had held his own. He had *permitted* the chains, and the pain. He acknowledged them as a facet of passion, unashamed. But there was more. Chakotay had put his trust in Tom from day one and never wavered. He'd offered his virginity, shared parts of himself no one on Voyager had ever seen, been open to anything and everything Tom chose for them. Even when Tom doubted himself, Chakotay never did. Tom remembered what he now saw as the moment of revelation. When Tom was going to end their sexual games, guilty over his actions, Chakotay had taken control. He pulled that bracket from the column, revealing that the chains had never truly restrained him. Grabbed Tom and demonstrated that the older man could also be dominant and forceful in passion. But then...he gave control back to Tom. After making his point, Chakotay chained himself back up. But even then, he was still Tom's equal. Chakotay didn't submit, he trusted. Without sacrificing one iota of his being, or spirit, he placed himself entirely in Tom's keeping. Understanding filled Tom, bringing calm. He respected, admired, lusted after, and especially, loved Chakotay. Tom *knew* Chakotay, as a colleague, a friend, and now a lover. Ken was right; Chakotay may be self-contained, but he didn't hide his feelings when they counted. Tom could do no less. The blond swiftly crossed to his computer terminal and opened a comm link. Soon Kathryn's curious face filled the screen. Her eyebrows rose as she caught sight of Ken in the background of Tom's cabin. "What can I do for you, Tom?" "I know that Chakotay has put a privacy lock on the holodeck. I need you to override it." "Why not just wait to talk to him tomorrow? He'll have a little time in the morning before beaming down to the planet." "No, it has to be tonight. Now." Tom's agitation was beginning to show. "What's so all-fired important? After all, you had breakfast with Chakotay, right? What could have possibly changed between then and now that the Commander needs to know about?" "Me...him...everything. Please, Captain, it's important." His eyes begged. "Chakotay's handing himself over to Nedal tomorrow, and I *have* to talk to him before then." "Why not just comm him?" Kathryn was ruthlessly quashing down her romantic hopes. She had to be sure of Tom's sincerity. Chakotay deserved no less. "You know why, what's been going on between us. I need to *see* him---and get something from his cabin first." Tom's forehead creased and his hands clenched with urgency. "Something I need to convince him that I'm serious. About us. About him. I'm only going to get one chance at this. I have to do it right." He swallowed and his voice dropped. "I don't think I can live with myself anymore if I don't," he whispered. It was the whisper that decided her. That, and the naked need in her usually carefree pilot's face. "All right. I'll let you into Chakotay's cabin and override his holodeck lockout." Her expression softened as her eyes misted. "Good luck. To both of you." "Thank you." Tom's reply was fervent. He closed the link and stood, turning a moment to look at Ken. "And thank you." "You're welcome." Ken gave him a small smile. "And I hope things turn out the way you want. Just remember how lucky you are, Paris. Love is a precious gift, and Chakotay is a rare man." He made his way to the exit, pausing on the threshold to toss over his shoulder, "Though Kathryn has always thought you were something special too. Never could see it myself." With a wink he was gone. Tom shook his head, took a last calming breath and followed. ************************************************************ The thunk of the holodeck doors shutting had a sense of finality that twanged Tom's already taut nerves. He swiftly changed clothes, dropping his belongings where he stood. When he finished, he smoothed the gold mesh over his thighs. /Now I know what Chakotay was talking about./ Tom had swiftly reached the First Officer's cabin, and almost immediately spied the discarded Larat outfits glistening on the back of a chair. He'd grabbed one at random and stuffed it in his repacked overnight bag, then sprinted to the holodeck. He was relieved when the doors opened for him, and surprised to be at the edge of the courtyard. Again the trees and plants blocked his view, but also afforded some privacy as he changed. Both his wardrobe and, sadly, his intent. He didn't know whether to be proud of the fact he had made it to this point physically or ashamed of his emotional backpedaling. Tom was here to offer Chakotay his body, not his heart. Somewhere between Chakotay's cabin and the holodeck Tom's confidence had faltered. Maybe it was the older man's few family photos that brought up thoughts of Tom's own mother. And her absolute surrender to the man she loved. The old fear that Tom would do the same had reared up. He quailed at the enormity of the gamble he was about to take. He'd managed to fight back the fear, but only gained a partial victory. He admitted to himself that he would not be able to tell Chakotay of his love. His soul wasn't ready for that level of trust. But Tom had decided to take the first step toward a real relationship with his Titan. He would make them sexual equals by giving Chakotay his virgin ass. A kind of bodily quid pro quo. It was also a test of how far the older man would take control, since Tom's dread at becoming submissive was equaled by a concern that his partner would be too dominating. Chakotay, at least in his public persona, was always a take-charge kind of guy. But if he had the opportunity, would he also give orders when they were alone? Tom figured that if Chakotay treated his body with respect and gentleness, he could trust his heart and soul to those bronzed hands as well. Somehow the "ultimate boundary" in his mind had shifted. He no longer feared the physical vulnerability so much, but the emotional was still too frightening to overcome. With one last twitch of the barely-there cloth, Tom stepped around the greenery, searching for his Titan. His face softened when he discovered Chakotay curled up on his side in the grass, sound asleep. He walked over and knelt beside the oblivious figure, his eyes caressing. He reached out one hand to stroke through the silky dark hair, trace the tattoo. His attention was caught by the fluttering eyelids, and then he met the befuddled brown eyes. "Tom?" Chakotay asked, wondering if he was dreaming. He'd spent the day in the courtyard setting, trying to come to grips with his very near future as the Larat. He'd grieved for a while, missing his siren's bright wit and smoky seduction, but eventually he'd managed some measure of peace. His missed hours of sleep eventually caught up with him, and he'd settled down for a nap, enjoying the fresh scent and texture of the grass. It invoked memories of Dorvan fields. At first his bewildered brain had assumed the grass was somehow responsible when he'd felt the light brushes on his head and brow. But eventually the warmth and familiarity of the touch had sunk in. He searched the nervous face above him, trying to understand what was going on. Then his eyes moved lower, and opened wide in shock. Arousal immediately followed. Tom was dressed in a Larat outfit, one of the rejected ensembles Chakotay had left in his cabin. Two lengths of fine gold fabric fell from crystal buttons at the shoulders, one panel down the front and the other covering the back, fashioning a type of loose sleeveless tunic that ended below the knee. The pieces were held in place by more buttons at each hip. But the material was more like net than cloth, wreathing the younger man's pale form in a golden mist. Glints of his chest hair showed easily. His quiescent cock and balls could be glimpsed in the shadowed triangle at the top of his thighs. Confused and wary, Chakotay slid out from under the stroking hand and stood, backing away from the kneeling figure. "What are you doing here, Tom?" "I'm here to ask you...if you want me." Tom's voice was tremulous and he couldn't meet the dark eyes. "Why are you dressed like that?" Chakotay chose not to answer the younger man's question, grateful his own loose clothing hid his response to the seductive vision. "Because I wanted you to see what I was offering." Tom stood, holding his hands out from his sides. "All that you see is yours for the taking." His chin titled as he deliberately chose his final words. "So I'm to have my very own Larat." Chakotay's voice was neutral, stating a fact. He resisted the urge to walk around Tom, to get the entire view. His eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Until now you've been very clear about what was allowed and what wasn't, and your ass was never part of the negotiations. Any particular reason you've decided to find out how the other half lives?" Tom dropped his hands, twisting them together. He didn't want love to enter the picture, so what else could he use? "It just...felt right. After everything we did together, I thought this would...balance things out." Anger sparked in Chakotay's eyes. "Thanks, but no thanks. I'm not interested in a sex slave, no matter how willing. I never asked you for this when we were together, so I'd hardly accept it now. Especially as a sort of weird delayed penance for yesterday." "That is *not* the reason I'm here." Tom's frustration gritted his teeth. "I just thought you needed some more experience before you took up your duties." "I don't believe you." Chakotay stared at the set jaw and defiant expression, then raked his eyes up and down the long body. "For days, you tense up every time my hands stray, and now suddenly you decide that you want my dick up your ass. So what is this really, some kind of pity fuck?" He strode over to Tom, invading the younger man's space. Close up, Tom could sense confusion and hurt hiding behind the anger. They also underlay the sharp words coming from thinned lips. "I really thought you were okay with things this morning, Tom. What did you do, have another attack of conscience? Or maybe you were calculating how many times Nedal can fuck me in a week, much less a month. Maybe you thought I could use some pre-ordeal comfort so I remember I'm a man? You offer yourself as what, a virgin sacrifice? Well get over it already." /Shit. I never figured he'd say no./ This was unacceptable. Tom decided to go on the attack, one hand swiftly reaching out to cover Chakotay's burgeoning erection. He used his other hand to yank the dark head close to his own. "What does it matter why I'm here?" He squeezed, earning him a growl from the older man. "You're not going to convince me that you don't want me, Chakotay. You like what you see, and I bet you've been thinking about topping me from day one." He leaned in and licked under one ear, nipping the lobe and then moving up to whisper, "Now's your chance. I'm giving you carte blanche. Fuck me." Chakotay wrenched himself out of the too-tempting embrace and stalked to a spot near the fountain. His eyes were burning with anger and desire as he looked at Tom once more. It was getting more difficult to ignore his siren's seductive tones and delectable body. Apparently his to do with as he pleased. But one thing held Chakotay back. He loved Tom. No matter how futile the emotion was in the face of reality. He had accepted the facts, and proved strong enough to let Tom go to find someone truly compatible with the younger man's wild and carefree spirit. But if Chakotay took this final step, he knew one time would never satisfy him. He'd want to keep Tom forever anchored to his side. Bound to him. And that wasn't the kind of lover he wanted to be. So he'd forgo the temporary pleasure to avoid inflicting lasting pain. Of course, he also was only human. He made sure to keep his distance and averted his eyes as he spoke. "You know I'm not into one-night stands. So I'd really appreciate it if you'd leave. Now." "Damn it, this is *not* a one-night stand! We've been going at each other like crazy for days now. So either fuck me or stop lying to me, because I am getting tired of this shit." Tom's anger at Chakotay's rejection had finally overwhelmed his fears. He lunged again, but this time his quarry evaded him. Both men were breathing heavily as they circled each other, practically snarling. Painfully aware of how quickly the situation had deteriorated between them. "Just accept the fact that this is not going to happen and get the hell out of here!" Chakotay's voice rose in desperation. He was ready to flee himself. He balled his hands into fists, trying to stop his fingers from reaching to feel all that tempting skin just a few steps away. "Not until you tell me why, why can't you do this?" Tom was yelling now, his feelings so riled and raw his whole body was shaking with them. "Because I love you!" The shout shocked both men, who simply stared at each other as the echoes faded. Chakotay closed his eyes a moment, then continued more quietly. "And it has been tearing me apart to lose even this...whatever it is we had. To never feel the touch of my lover again." Chakotay swallowed. His voice trembled, "And now you want me to take you...join with you---just once---and then walk away? I can't do that." His hands lifted helplessly. "I don't have that kind of strength. So please...please, just leave, Tom." "What makes you think it would be just once?" Tom had relaxed and his voice was quieter. "Because you're not my type?" The question rasped along Chakotay's frayed nerves, sharpening his response. "Yes, because I'm nothing like the people you choose to be with. And in all the time we were together you never really trusted me. Not to mention that I'm about to become some alien's fuck toy---for a price." Suddenly all the fight went out of the powerful figure. "But mostly because you always end your relationships, Tom. Always." Tom stepped forward and stared into the deep, soulful eyes. He framed the beautiful face, stroking the high cheekbones with his thumbs. The revelation that this noble, wonderful man loved him so completely kindled a bonfire in him. It burned away all his self-doubts, all his fears. As if he'd tossed away all the lifelong barriers to his heart like so much trash to be consumed in the blaze. As the feeling swept through him Tom wanted to laugh and dance around the room with the man in his arms, shouting that he was no longer afraid. Prometheus had finally brought the divine fire to mortal man. Beautiful and eternal, the flame was love. But first he had to convince his Titan. Praying that the words would be enough, Tom opened his mind, his heart, his soul, hoping the truth would shine forth. "I don't have types anymore, Chakotay, just you. Only you, always you. And I don't care what you have to do as the Larat, to keep your word and to help our friends get closer to home." His hands gripped a little more desperately as he saw uncertain hope flicker in the dark gaze. "Fucking Nedal won't mean anything because your heart won't be in it. It will be with me, the way mine will be with you. I love you, Chakotay, and I want us to be together. Tonight, tomorrow...and when you get back from Ruta, for the rest of our lives." Tom looked down a moment, then gathered his courage to burn his last bridge. "You're right, I've always ended my affairs. Before they ever got this serious. Because I didn't want to take the risk of getting hurt. My---my family taught me that being in love makes you less than who you are alone. That if I let someone into my heart, I would lose my soul." He shifted so one long finger kept the automatic protest behind the full lips. "I know, that's not the way love's supposed to be. It's supposed to be giving and cherishing. Sharing and building so lovers are stronger together. *You* taught me the truth of that, Chak." He trembled a little, but kept going. "Every moment we've shared you showed me that you loved me. Every time we talked, touched, everything we've done together. That you let me do to you." Tom shook his head, face full of wonder. "And you were always yourself. You didn't give up any part of your mind or heart or soul. You just made room in them for me. You...trusted me." His gaze turned pleading, "I'm begging you, Chakotay, believe that I love you too. Trust me, one more time." He held his breath, waiting. Chakotay kissed him. TBC