GENTLEMEN'S AGREEMENT

Title: Gentlemen's Agreement, 2/16 
Author: Jaye (Copyright April 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 TWO

/This is hopeless, absolutely hopeless./ Chakotay put his head
in his  hands and sighed, painfully aware of the weight of the
crystal resting  just below his collarbone. In the last two
hours he'd come to the  sobering conclusion that he was going to
fail. At pleasing Nedal. At being  the Larat. At getting Voyager
closer to home.

He had almost immediately sent the Captain back down to the
party and  Ken. They'd quickly agreed not to mention the
wormhole to the crew until  they could craft an innocent
explanation for the Commander's  involvement. They would simply
announce that the Rutali had invited Voyager to  travel from
this colony to Ruta, the aliens' homeworld, a rare honor. 
Janeway had told Chakotay to schedule himself as much time off
as he  needed and reserved a holodeck for his exclusive use.
When she told him to  "take whoever he wanted" to help him
prepare, they'd both blushed.

When the awkward moment passed, Chakotay suggested the Captain
return  to the festivities to keep her ears open for references
to Larat. In  truth, he knew his old friend was down on the
planet missing Kathryn every  moment she was gone. Chakotay
wanted the lovers to take advantage of  this rare opportunity to
just enjoy each other's company. And for that,  he knew Kathryn
needed a clear conscience.

Now, alone in his cabin after paging through the Rutali
equivalent of  the Kama Sutra, he realized he was completely out
of his depth. After  he'd laid his hand on the tome, the text
had not only altered to  Federation Standard, but the contents
had also adjusted to reflect a male-male  relationship. The
"duties" within were described in detail and  illustrated, but
much of it involved a type of sex Chakotay was completely 
unfamiliar with.

He had never had a male lover. Not that there hadn't been
offers. But  he'd never been interested in one-night stands,
even at the Academy.  Unfortunately, that was all his potential
male partners had ever wanted.

Which left him a 39-year-old virgin responsible for 150 people
whose  immediate futures depended solely on his untried ability
to satisfy a  male lover. One that didn't even find him
attractive.

Chakotay's mind wandered to Nedal's real choice, Tom Paris. *He*
was  probably familiar with every technique in the book. The
lively blond had  acquired and discarded several dozen
paramours, both male and female,  in their four years on
Voyager. What impressed Chakotay most about the  record wasn't
the number of partners, but the fact that Tom remained on  good
terms with every one of his exes after the affairs ended. Some, 
like Harry, stayed good friends while others drifted away to
different  social circles. But not one of them ever held a
grudge for being dumped  by the handsome pilot. And Chakotay had
never heard any complaints about  the time spent in Paris's bed.

Brown eyes vaguely gazed at the gilt-edged pages as bronzed
fingers  idly stroked the Rutali crystal. A plan was beginning
to take shape in  Chakotay's mind.

***************

Tom plopped down on his couch, thoroughly disgusted. An
unavoidable  side effect of being horny and frustrated. Horny
because he hadn't had  real sex in more than three months, and
frustrated because his plans to  arrange a romp in a comely
Rutali's bed had been spoiled by his anonymous  watcher. The
eyes had released him soon after he'd joined Harry, but  the
uncharacteristic unease had kept him by the Ensign's side the
rest of  the evening. Which left Tom with an incipient hard-on
and nowhere to  put it.

Tom sighed and vaguely rubbed at his groin, trying to decide
whether to  start trolling for a fuck buddy or just jerk off and
go to bed. He gave  up on both ideas when he couldn't think of a
suitable partner.

That jaded sense of "been there, done that" was part of the
reason he'd  been alone since ending it with Seven. After he'd
bagged the Borg (who  had a beautiful bod but not much more to
offer), there really wasn't  anyone left on his list. The crew
he hadn't already slept with either  weren't interested in him
or he wasn't interested in them. His only  choices lately were
crafting a lover on the holodeck (too mechanical),  restarting
an old affair (too dangerous), or hooking up with a member of a 
friendly species. The Rutali had fit the bill, until the Peeping
Tom or  Tammy had spoiled things.

The blond was still idly debating whether to move to the bedroom
or  just crash on the couch when his chime rang. He hurriedly
straightened his  clothes and ran a hand through his hair as he
made his way to the door.  /Luck, be a lady tonight,/ he prayed,
/or at least my kind of guy./

When the entrance opened to admit Chakotay, Tom concluded that
Luck had  already departed for a date somewhere on the planet.
The Commander  paused just inside the threshold, clutching a
satchel and shuffling with  uncharacteristic nervousness. He
cleared his throat a few times but  didn't say anything.

Tom decided to push things along a little. Even if he wasn't
doing  anything special with his time, there was no reason to
waste it waiting on  his XO. "To what do I owe this honor,
Commander?"

"Paris, um, Tom, do you mind if we sit down?" At the other man's
nod,  Chakotay felt his fingers reaching to touch the seal
hidden under his  tunic as if it were a talisman. He hastily
dropped his hand and perched  on the edge of the sofa seat.
/Spirits, give me strength./ He cleared  his throat one more
time and looked at his puzzled host. "I have  a...proposition
for you."

Tom was shocked at how his ears---and everything else---perked
up at  the innocent phrase. *That* made no sense. Tom had
decidedly stuck  Chakotay in the "Look But Don't Touch" category
years ago. And it wasn't like  the Commander was sending him a
come-hither glance or even a sly wink  of innuendo. Frankly, the
man looked like he was ready to bolt. "O-kay,"  Tom encouraged
as he selected a chair, still clueless.

Chakotay rubbed his palms over the bag containing the Rutali
book. He  was surprised he wasn't sweating; he was very aware of
the necklace  reflecting back his body heat. "I'd like you
to...that is...You've had a  lot of lovers, right?" he finally
blurted.

Tom's hackles automatically rose in self-defense. His body
followed  suit, leaping from its seat. "Yeah, so what! You got
some kind of problem  with that? Well, tough luck, Commander.
The fraternization regs went  out the airlock a long time
ago---"

"Tom---" Chakotay also stood.

"Just what kind of *proposition* did you have for me, huh? Maybe
you  think 'cause I'm friendly, I'll sleep with anything that
moves, right?"  Tom's arms were swinging wildly as he raved.

"*Tom*---"

The blond skidded to a halt in front of Chakotay, hands on hips
as he  yelled into the older man's face. "What's in the bag,
some kind of  payoff? You son of a---"

"*Lieutenant*!" Chakotay roared. The two men stared at each
other as  the echoes faded. Chakotay sighed and sank down onto
his seat. "I never  thought of you as a slut, or a whore, Tom. A
hustler, yes." He attempted  a small conciliatory smile. "But
only at pool."

The older man shrugged. "Besides, I always check the condition
of my  own pot before commenting on other people's kettles. And
in this case,  mine's definitely more tarnished."

The honest affirmation, tiny smile and ridiculous image of
Chakotay  studiously inspecting cookware finally won Tom over.
He calmed, made a  "Forget about it" gesture and returned to his
chair. His brow furrowed in  confusion as he leaned forward.
"Then what's this all about?"

Chakotay surprised Tom with his opening. "I'll explain
everything, but  first you have to promise me you won't breathe
a word of this to  anyone. Not even Harry or B'Elanna."

Tom sensed the gravity in the older man's demeanor; whatever
this was,  it was serious. "All right."

Chakotay nodded and relaxed slightly. "You've met some of the
Rutali  leaders, yes? Do you remember their Regent, Nedal?"

"Sure."

"How about the Chief Consul, a woman named Sisryn?"

"Yeah, she officially welcomed my group when we got to the
reception."

"Okay." Chakotay looked at the bag once more, then up again. "At
the  morning briefing, the Captain is going to announce that
we've been  invited to the Rutali homeworld. It'll take about a
week to get there."

"That's good news, right?"

"Yes, but there's more to it. What she won't mention is that
there is a  wormhole near it, and we've been invited to use
that, too. It could  send us anywhere from one to 15 years
closer to home."

Tom's eyebrows lifted. "Why keep that a secret?"

"Because the Rutalis charge a very unusual price for using the 
wormhole. A very personal price." Chakotay dropped his gaze as
he felt a blush  beginning.

Cynical blue eyes narrowed as they considered the fidgety
Commander.  "Let me guess. It's a very *private* transaction.
With Nedal as the  customer and Sisryn the procurer." Tom's
mouth tightened. "I won't do it,  Chakotay. Like you said, I'm
not a whore."

"But I am, apparently." Chakotay's chin lifted at the pilot's
shocked  stare. "If the price is right. Only they call it Larat,
and say it's  more like being a courtesan."

He waved a hand. "The semantics don't matter. When Voyager
reaches the  homeworld, I go and...stay with Nedal for a while.
When I get back, we  go through the wormhole and find out how
far it takes us."

Chakotay didn't like the speculative light kindled in those blue
orbs,  but gamely plowed on, anxious to get it over with. "The
problem is,  while just accepting the job is enough to let us
use the wormhole, how  well I do it---literally---determines how
far we get. As far as 15 years,  or as little as one."

Tom was floored. If he hadn't been sitting he would have
measured his  length on the less-than-clean carpet. /Chakotay
was...he was going  to...shit!/ He decided to hide his amazement
with a typical smart-aleck  remark. "And what are you looking
for from me, pointers?" he laughed.

"Yes, and more." The Commander waited as the blond abruptly
sobered,  then continued. "Because right now I have zero
experience at this and I  don't think the Regent is interested
in breaking in a rookie. I have the  week until we get to the
Rutali homeworld to prepare. I want you to  help me learn what I
need to know to please him."

Chakotay shrugged. "It would be like one of your usual flings,
except  we keep it a secret. When the week is up we part company
and never  mention it again. Go back to the way things were.
Hopefully I'll be able to  pick up enough to satisfy Nedal."

Tom still wasn't sure he was hearing right. "So you want me to
fuck you  for a week, so you can go fuck the Rutali Regent? And
you want me to  keep it to myself, and afterward just forget it
ever happened?"

"Essentially. But there's a little more than simple fucking
involved."  Chakotay took out the Rutali tome and laid it on
Tom's lap. "This is a  kind of instruction manual. It lists all
of my duties as the Larat. I  would also like you to help me
figure out which five to refuse."

Chakotay gave a huge sigh and stood. "Look over the book
tonight, and  let me know tomorrow if you think you can do it.
If not, that's okay,  I'll figure something out. Just make sure
you keep quiet about this."

Tom also rose, feeling the weight of the book in his hands. He
looked  curiously at Chakotay. "What makes you so sure I'd want
to end it after  the week is up?"

"Look at your usual choices, Tom: Megan and Jenny Delaney, Sue 
Nicoletti, Durst, Gerron, Tabor, Harry. Except for Seven, all of
your previous  partners are fun-loving, lively, young, and
nowhere near as strong as  you."

Chakotay shrugged. "Let's face it, I'm not your type. Besides,
no  matter how easygoing a lover you are, even you would balk at
your partner  going straight from your bed to Nedal's."

Tom had to agree. He stepped up to the Commander and put out his
hand.  "If I decide I can do this, I'll abide by your terms. And
no matter  what happens, no one will hear of this from me. You
have my word."

The two men shook on it.

****************

Kathryn nestled deeper into her lover's sleep-slackened embrace.
She  couldn't seem to drift off, despite the workout she'd had
that evening.  On the dance floor, as well as in this bed.

Her hands tightened around the whipcord arms loosely cradling
her. /I  could have lost this./ Kathryn sighed as she recalled
the unlikely  circumstances that had brought Ken Dalby into her
life, and her heart.

It had been Chakotay, of all people, who decided to play Cupid.
They  would have become lovers on New Earth if they'd been left
much longer,  but Voyager had returned. The daily grind of life
aboard ship forced them  back into their respective roles. Over
time, the sparks of attraction  had faded to the muted sparkle
of friendship.

Occasionally Chakotay suggested potential dates for his Captain
and  friend. Kathryn was adamant that she couldn't get involved
with someone  under her command. Then the ship had docked at a
friendly planet for a  month's worth of overhauls. Extended
shore leave was granted, and the  Commander made sure his CO was
on the rotation. A few hours before Kathryn  was due to leave,
Chakotay had come to her Ready Room to call in one of  the many
favors she owed him.

A man had approached Chakotay while he was on the planet
negotiating  their stay. He had expressed a great admiration for
Voyager's feisty  Captain, and arranged a meal at a local cafe,
hoping she could be persuaded  to join him.

The Commander wanted her to go. It was a public place with
excellent  food and a pleasant ambiance, and Chakotay thought
the change would do  her good. She'd balked, but in the end
she'd sulkily given in and headed  for the restaurant.

She'd been there only a few moments when a slim hand had lightly 
touched her arm. Kathryn was still catching her breath from the
jolt it  delivered as her unknown admirer circled around the
table to his own seat.  She'd been shocked to lift her eyes to
meet Kenneth Dalby's.

He'd held up that same hand, forestalling her protests and
questions.  "Yes, I'm the one you're here to meet. And no, it
isn't a trick. Just  hear me out, and if you still aren't
comfortable I'll leave."

He sat, and rested on his elbows. "I never signed on to
Starfleet. I  wear the uniform to make things easier on
Chakotay. I owe him."

The seriousness of his expression kept Kathryn quiet. "I don't
follow  orders because I have to, or out of respect for any
chain of command. I  don't *want* to be part of it." He held her
eyes. "I obey orders  because that is the best way to help my
friends get home."

When Kathryn finally spoke, it wasn't to ask a question he
expected.  "And it took a right cross to convince you of that?"

Dalby smiled, and Kathryn found herself enchanted by the way it
lighted  his eyes and transformed his face. "In a way, yes. It
reminded me that  Chakotay is still the strong leader he was in
the Maquis. I remembered  why I trusted him." He sobered. "And
because he trusted you, I decided  to try to as well."

Kathryn looked down, more disappointed than she cared to admit
at  having to push the slender, intense man away. "That may be
true, Mr.  Dalby---"

"Ken."

"Ken," she allowed. "But that doesn't change the fact that
officially,  you're under my command."

"You're mistaken. I may answer to Crewman, but I'm a civilian,
like  Neelix. You can check the records." His eyes twinkled at
her. "You may not  know it, but instead of issuing orders, all
of you are actually just  making heartfelt requests."

She felt her lips twitch in response, but held her ground.
"You're  still a member of Voyager's crew."

"But not of the command structure." He gestured. "*We've* never
worked  together and likely never will. There's no conflict in
our professional  lives because they never overlap. And since
I've learned to trust in  you, I've had no problems working
under Carey or Tuvok, or anyone else."

He took her hand; the touch made her tremble. "Your real fear is
that  you'll be forced to order your lover to his death. You
won't have to do  that, Kathryn." He gave a gentle squeeze. "If
I'm right about what we  could have together, then you won't
have time to give the command. To  protect you, my friends, our
home...you can be damn sure I'll volunteer  first."

Kathryn removed her hand and saw him tense. She made her
decision in  the split second she saw Ken Dalby steel himself to
accept her rejection.  Protocol or not, right or wrong, she
couldn't walk away. She chose not  to.

She reached for a menu and sent her date a lopsided smile. "All
right,  you've got yourself a dinner."

/And what a revelation it was./ They'd talked all night long,
leaving  the cafe when it closed to walk the lamplit streets
hand in hand. Though  he'd had a knockabout sort of life, Ken
Dalby was surprisingly cultured  and, thanks to his love of
reading, well-versed in topics as diverse as  quantum physics
and ancient philosophy.

Kathryn had somehow found the courage to continue the
relationship even  after the repairs were finished and they were
back on course for home.  Their tastes meshed surprisingly well,
and their temperaments and  viewpoints differed enough to make
things interesting. As Ken became a  welcome fixture in her
life, the crew seemed happy for her. But nowhere near  as happy
as she was.

Surprisingly, he was the one who held off having sex. Ken didn't
want  to share Kathryn's bed until he knew he would be staying
there. She  thought it would happen the night they held each
other close and talked of  private things: their histories, the
deaths of loved ones, Cardassians,  Starfleet, Maquis. Instead,
they'd just slept in each other's arms.  They finally made love
two weeks later, and hadn't spent a night alone  since.

/Would I have accepted Larat? Could I have faced Ken if I did?/
She  didn't have an answer; she wasn't sure she ever would. But
as Captain  Kathryn Janeway finally fell to sleep in Ken's arms
she sent silent thanks  to Chakotay. For everything.

************************************************************
************************************************************

Tom Paris nervously paced the confines of Holodeck One,
deliberately  ignoring the Rutali book sitting on the control
panel. He'd sent Chakotay  his agreement, and received the time
for their meeting, early this  morning. But he still had doubts.

The original source of his disquiet surprised him. Last night,
Tom had  been unsettled by his own reaction when he thought of
bedding Chakotay.  There was a hard edge to his anticipation
that tasted of payback. For  what, Tom wasn't sure. But it was
disturbing enough to make him  seriously consider rejecting the
Big Man's proposition. In the end, Tom's sense  of duty
prevailed. That and the irresistible lure of the unknown. He'd 
come three times last night just imagining Chakotay's "duties"
as he  flipped through the erotic alien manual.

The day had been an exercise in building tension. The
announcement at  the morning briefing had gone just as Chakotay
said. Voyager was now  heading for the Rutali homeworld,
escorted by the flagship of their hosts'  fleet. Nedal, Sisryn
and Milady were aboard the Rutali ship,  accompanied by a
selection of pride leaders. A schedule of visits between the two 
vessels was being organized by Neelix.

Then Tom had taken his seat at the Conn for his shift and
started  feeling stalked again, only this time he couldn't run.
Though Chakotay had  sat behind the pilot almost every day for
four years, today marked the  first time he'd felt the heat of
those dark brown eyes. He could almost  sense when they shifted
from his back to his hair to his hands. It  jarred him.

More annoying than unnerving was the Captain. She kept glancing
at  Chakotay, then at him, then at Chakotay. She *had* to know.
/Apparently,  only one of us is under a gag order,/ Tom thought,
mouth thinning with  resentment.

Tom stopped at the sound of the holodeck doors opening. He wiped
his  suddenly damp palms on his uniform slacks as he watched
Chakotay glide  into the room. Serious, older, powerful, much
stronger than him Chakotay.  *Definitely* not his type. He
panicked. /I can't do this./ He opened  his mouth to end the
agreement before it began, but Chakotay was faster.

"Good, you're still in uniform." Chakotay suspected Tom was
wavering,  so he swiftly crossed to the control panel and typed
in his request. The  holodeck grid shifted to an exclusive spa
in San Francisco. "Are you  familiar with the DaySpring?"

"Uh, yeah." Tom was confused; oddly, that calmed him. /What are
we here  for, pedicures?/ He affected a casual air. "My family
had a lifetime  membership."

"I hoped so." The older man smiled at his companion, and was
relieved  to get at least a quirk of pink lips in response. He
gestured to two  plush chairs nearby. "Can we talk a minute?"

"Sure." Tom gingerly settled onto the midnight-blue cushions,
waiting  as Chakotay grabbed the book and settled across from
him. "So, um, what  did you have in mind?"

"For tonight, not a lot." Chakotay was relieved to see the long
body  relax slightly. He wished his own would; he was still as
wound up as a  teenager. He fumbled for a place to start.
"So...you read it?"

"Yeah. Some pretty extreme shit in there," the younger man
remembered  his reaction to a few of the chapters and shifted
uncomfortably. "You  said you could refuse to do five things,
right?"

"Yes. The trick is figuring out what I can't handle, or can't do
well.  If I really screw up," Chakotay could feel himself
blushing again, "it  could cut down on the distance the wormhole
takes us."

The blush reassured Tom in some strange way. He relaxed even
more,  making the gracious gesture of a sage deigning to
dispense wisdom. "There's  only one thing I would cross off the
list right off the bat. Everything  else, my advice is to try it
and see what happens."

"What's the one thing?"

Now Tom could feel his own cheeks heat a little; he'd had a lot
of sex,  but didn't often chat about it. "Fisting. You're going
to be way too  new at this for it to be comfortable, much less
enjoyable. I wouldn't  even attempt it."

"Okay, thanks." Chakotay nodded, secretly relieved. /I wasn't
even sure  that was physically possible./ He decided to change
topics. "Since you  are the expert here, I figured I'd pretty
much follow your lead. After  tonight, it might be better if you
pick the settings and the agenda."  He lifted his shoulders.
"Decide what we should try and when."

Tom felt some of his confidence return with the idea of being in 
control, but..."What about tonight?"

Chakotay sighed. "When I said I had no experience, I meant it,
Tom. Not  just being with a man, but casual sex, really. I'm
used to spending  time with a lover before we hit the sheets.
Months, even."

He stiffened in response to the younger man's gawking. "It's how
I was  raised. To establish a connection first. We don't have
time for that,  so I hoped you'd be willing to try something
else."

"What, exactly?" Tom's stupefaction didn't dull his suspicion.

"I'd like to...um...give you a massage." Chakotay was getting a
little  irritated. /Shouldn't Tom's jaw be tired from hanging
open like that so  long?/ He stood. "The bathing cubicles are
over there. And I've left an  extra towel for you to use when
you're done. The table's---"

"Yeah, I know, I've been here." Tom's eyes narrowed. "*Just* a 
massage?"

"Well, and maybe a kiss. That's it." Chakotay smiled again,
trying to  put his soon-to-be-partner at ease. "I may not keep
my hands to myself,  but I won't be taking any liberties, to
quote the Captain's  holonovels."

"Okay." The two men parted to their respective cubicles. Tom
quickly  stripped and washed, noting the unscented shower gel.
When he was dry, he  wrapped the extra towel around his waist
and made his way to the  massage room. And stopped in shock.

Tom had seen Chakotay in his usual loose clothes and even his
Wash Day  Leathers, and occasionally wondered what lay
underneath. His  imagination hadn't done the Commander justice.
He'd always thought of men's  bodies as hard and angular, but
Chakotay's was a symphony of curves. The  dark-haired man was
facing away from him. A line of gold marked the place  where the
strong column of his neck met powerful shoulders, which in  turn
led to arms corded with muscle. The solid back and sides
sketched a  sinuous curve as they flowed into a surprisingly
trim waist, then  arched out again to towel-covered hips. The
carved thighs and calves sent  the eye on a delightful journey
downward that ended at the gracefully  arched feet. Then the
living bronze turned around.

Tom started at the feet again, enjoying the smooth skin of the
muscled  legs, and jumping past the towel to Chakotay's torso.
The hairless  expanse invited fingers to run up and down the
undulating waves of his  abdomen, and palms to measure the
strong chest. Dusky nipples complemented  the flawless skin. A
disclike, faceted crystal rested below the base of  Chakotay's
neck, set in a barbaric necklace of dark gold. From this 
perspective the shoulders were even more impressive, and the
throat a  graceful line up to the jaw and dimpled chin. Tom's
eyes lingered on the  lush curves of those rosy lips before they
moved on. It was fitting that  the bold line of nose wasn't
perfectly straight, while the wide brow  seemed a perfect
background for the airy brush of the tattoo.

Chakotay looked like something out of legend, from a time when
gods  strode the earth in the form of men. Tom's eyebrows drew
together as he  tried to recall an appropriate deity. /Zeus?
Hercules? No, not a god...a  Titan. Prometheus./ A noble figure,
who stole fire from Mount Olympus  and brought it to Earth for
humanity. Yes, he could see the faintest  flush of the fire
still tinting that smooth skin, and a newly born flame  of
passion burning in the dark gaze. Tom swallowed and wondered at
the  conflagration to come.

Chakotay noted that Tom's focus had moved once again to the
necklace.  He touched it briefly and explained, "This is the
symbol of the Larat."  He thought the blue eyes had darkened
slightly, like the sky at  twilight. Stepping forward, he held
out his arm, palm raised. "May I?"

Tom hesitantly lifted his own hand and watched as it was
engulfed in  the broader one. He was puzzled as Chakotay lifted
Tom's hand, cradling  it in both of his own. He curled the pale
fingers slightly, brought it  to his nose, and inhaled. He moved
closer to Tom, repeating his action  with the younger man's
wrist, the crook of his elbow and, leaning  forward slightly,
the place where Tom's neck met his shoulder. Tom's skin  felt
sensitized, aware of that faint draw and puff of air against it.

Then Chakotay broke the spell by abruptly stepping back. He
briskly  strode over to a lighted niche. "Please lay down on
your stomach," the  dark man tossed over his shoulder as he
began hunting among the colored  glass bottles displayed within.

"What was that sniffing thing? Making sure I washed?" Tom was
nervous  again as he gingerly lay down, keeping an eye on his
new masseur.

"No," Chakotay chuckled. "Just getting an idea of your natural
scent,  so I could pick an appropriate blend." He walked over to
the table  carrying a square cobalt vessel. He opened it and
held it poised over Tom's  back. "Ready?"

"Massage away." Tom placed his head on folded arms and tried to
relax.  He felt the warm silky trail of oil making its way down
his spine. The  scent teased his nostrils; it was unfamiliar,
fresh, and somehow  reminded him of a brisk morning at sea.
"What is that?"

"A bit of this and that. I call it 'Ocean Breeze'." Chakotay
breathed  deeply a moment, seeking calm, then lightly placed his
hands at the top  of the smooth pale back. He closed his eyes,
concentrating on the feel  of muscles underneath the skin. He
spread the oil, then started the  massage with a light brush,
then a gentle pressure, gauging Tom's reaction  by feel. He
found each knot of tension and worked it strongly until it 
dissipated.

Tom was drifting on a sea becalmed. The hands on his flesh
seemed to  impart warmth, tenderness, even wonder in their
touch. He could sense  Chakotay taking his time, learning him
inch by inch. He'd never been so  affected by a nonsexual
contact in his life. His legs parted slightly as  Chakotay
reached the top of his towel and moved past it to drip oil in 
the well formed by the backs of his knees. The lower half of his
thighs  were then encircled by strong hands and kneaded.

Chakotay laughed. "This certainly feels different. Usually I
don't have  to deal with body hair." He opened his eyes to watch
the tiny golden  filaments glisten even more brightly with the
oil.

Tom thought he should be saying something, asking Chakotay who
taught  him massage, but he could feel his brain turning to
pudding just like  his body. Everything from his neck to his
calves had melted into the  table. He felt Chakotay rub his
ankles, then move to his feet. The press of  thumbs on his arch
brought an unexpected groan of appreciation from  deep in Tom's
belly.

Chakotay finished the other foot and chuckled again as he
stepped away  from the table. "Turn over---if you still can." He
stopped laughing as  he watched Tom stretch, then languidly
comply, resting a moment on his  elbows.

He'd had a vague awareness of Tom's attractiveness over the
years. The  pale body had been on display before, clad in swim
trunks at the  resort. But he'd never taken the time to stop and
really look.

The slender limbs suggested elegance and a wiry strength. They
were  sprinkled liberally with fine golden hair. Cropped
sun-kissed locks,  blush-pink lips and deep-sea-blue eyes
enhanced the features of a movie-star  handsome face. The long
line of the ivory throat merged with  surprisingly broad
shoulders, while the respectably-defined chest was crowned  with
two dark pink nubs, rising from a field of golden curls. The
line of  hair narrowed and pointed like an arrow, leading the
eye over the  muscled belly and under the edge of the towel.
Chakotay hurriedly cleared  his throat and reached for the
bottle of oil.

Tom hadn't missed the brown eyes' journey over his body; again,
he  could feel their heat. He found his voice. "Why did you come
to me,  Chakotay?"

The older man gestured for Tom to lie back down as he gathered
his  thoughts. He began to work on Tom's front, quickly
finishing his legs. Then  he moved up to the slender arms. He
made his way down each lightly  muscled limb and carefully
manipulated each of the long fingers. When he  leaned over
slightly to reach the younger man's chest, he held the blue 
eyes a moment. Tom was surprised at how open Chakotay's
expression was.

The bronzed hands began surveying the muscles of Tom's chest the
same  way they had explored his back. "Once I admitted I'd never
be able to do  this without some coaching, you were the only
choice for my teacher.  There were several reasons. For one, no
matter how short or intense your  affairs, you always manage to
stay on good terms with people afterward.  That's a rare gift.
Two, I know you've had quite a few male lovers, and  I'm going
to need the perspective experience brings."

Tom was putty in the hands molding his body. He felt blood
lazily  making its way to his cock, filling it slowly, an odd
sort of relaxed  arousal. He almost whimpered in disappointment
when Chakotay carefully  avoided his nipples, and felt the urge
to arch into those capable hands as  they began to massage his
abdomen. Tom was definitely getting excited,  but tried to cover
it with a breathless query, "Anything else?"

Chakotay finished at the towel line again, and rested his hands
there a  moment. Then he caught Tom's eyes and held them.
"Mainly it was because  in all my life you're the only man I
ever gave a second look. The night  we met, I seriously
reconsidered my rule against one-night stands." He  paused. "I
thought about what I'd have to do with Nedal and I didn't  want
my first time to be with a stranger. I wanted to be with you."

Tom was mesmerized. By the velvet voice, the heat and earthy
scent  radiating from the body above him. By the powerful hands
that moved to rest  lightly on his shoulders. But mostly by the
fire in those deep, dark  eyes, glowing with desire and passion
and a just a hint of something  indefinable. He couldn't move as
those eyes closed in, and the rose-tinged  lips parted to
whisper, "I'm going to kiss you now."

Chakotay felt like he could drown in the pools of Tom's eyes as
they  drew him down into their sapphire-edged depths. He could
smell the musk  of the younger man's arousal and was surprised
how primal his own  response was. He drew closer to those pink
lips, hoping they were trembling  in anticipation and not fear.
His own eyes closed as he made contact.

/No wonder Seska was obsessed with him. No one else could ever
match  this kiss./ Tom felt like he was going to burst into
flame. Chakotay's  lips were as soft as they looked, and taking
Tom's mouth the way the  older man's hands had explored his
body. A feather-light touch followed by  firmer pressure, then
that lush mouth opened to slide along Tom's upper  lip, then
lower, sucking each in turn.

Chakotay loved to kiss. As he'd admitted to Tom, he sometimes
spent  months on foreplay, so he'd learned to make the wait
worth his lover's  while. When the blond under his hands parted
his mouth to moan, Chakotay  didn't just dive in. He had a
promise to keep. Instead, he let the tip  of his tongue run
slowly along the inner edge of Tom's lower lip, asking  for
admittance.

Tom opened his mouth wider, desperately wanting that tongue to
explore  further. He moaned again when his silent invitation was
accepted with  relish, the warm, silky invader touring its new
territory and spreading  pleasure in its wake. Tom was so
overwhelmed with sensation he didn't  even notice that he was
doing nothing except reveling in the experience.  His own hands
were curled into loose fists and his tongue lay quietly, 
waiting for its partner to come and twine with it again.

Chakotay opened his mouth wider, completely surrounding Tom's.
He  breathed for both of them as he slowly fucked Tom's mouth,
sucking the pink  lips in to brush against his own teeth, then
easing them back as his  tongue thrust against Tom's. His rhythm
was unrelenting and growing wild,  but his hands stayed chastely
on the pale shoulders.

Tom's fists had moved to press against the table, holding his
towel  taut as his hips lifted to thrust against it. He craved
friction for his  engorged cock; if his mouth had been under his
own control at that  moment he'd have begged Chakotay to stroke
him, take him, do whatever he  wanted to bring release. But Tom
could only move in time with Chakotay's  tongue, and take the
dark man's hot breath into his own body. He groaned  in relief
as the tempo increased and an elbow dropped near his groin so 
he could press against it. Finally, he tore his mouth from
Chakotay's  to fill his lungs with the shockingly cold air of
the room and shout as  his orgasm hit.

Both men panted into the stillness. Chakotay almost came himself
from  the sight of the wild-eyed, wanton creature that was Tom
Paris at the  moment of climax. He felt the trip-hammer beat of
his pulse and the heavy  weight of his own arousal. He breathed
for just himself again, trying  to regain some measure of
control. When he found it, he moved one hand  to stroke the
younger man's dewy, flushed cheek. With the other he  loosened
Tom's towel and cleaned him, taking care not to expose any of
the  pale flesh. Though now he desperately wanted to see all of
Tom's body.  Know all of him. Instead, he silently rearranged
the blond's covering  and willed his own erection to fade.

Tom was in complete and utter shock, too drained to do more than
note  the gentle hands stroking him and cleaning his cum-covered
groin. He'd  never climaxed just from a kiss before---even if it
had been preceded by  a skin-tingling massage. His eyes
fluttered open as the hands left him.  He noted the fire in the
dark eyes had banked down to embers. He  gathered his strength
and lifted one hand to vaguely indicate the older man's  towel.
"What about you?"

Chakotay gave a small smile. "Not a problem. Tonight was for
you." He  quirked an eyebrow. "I'm glad you enjoyed it."

Tom felt himself flush with embarrassment. "Can't argue with the 
evidence." He sat up, careful holding his towel. "I'm a little
tired, was  there anything else?"

Chakotay frowned slightly, uncertain how to react to Tom's
distant  tone. "No...I guess we just wait to see what tomorrow
brings?"

"Yeah. I'm going to hit the showers again." He departed, lost in 
thought, leaving a worried Chakotay behind.

TBC