IN VINO VERITAS

Title: In Vino Veritas 1/2 
Author: Jaye (Copyright August 2002)
Codes: VOY C/P PG-13

Disclaimer: Star Trek and all related characters and concepts are
the property of Paramount. No infringement is intended or profit
made. This is PG-13 for language and suggestions of 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
wordsmith872@fastmail.fm

Summary: A drunk Tom Paris has an interesting conversation with
Chakotay.

Note: An experiment in POV that got out of hand. Part one is
Chakotay's perspective, the conclusion Tom's.

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

PART ONE

I knew I was on clean-up duty the moment Kathryn turned to me, her
little nose wrinkled in a definite snit. "I thought Tom could hold
his liquor," she muttered irritably.

"Maybe he's had more than usual. That's easy to do during a
celebration. After all, it's not every day his best friend gets
engaged to his ex-lover." I hoped that's all it was, that Tom had
simply lost track of the amount of beer he'd been drinking---or
forgotten that it was the real stuff. I definitely didn't like the
alternative, that he was drowning his sorrows.

"Chakotay, he's going to fall down any minute." She frowned. "We
can't have a bridge officer making a spectacle of himself."

I accepted my fate with a sigh. "Would you like me to give him a
hand finding his cabin?"

Kathryn turned with a pleased smile and quick pat, as if it really
was all my idea. "That's very kind of you. I'll make sure people go
back to thinking about the main event, not Mr. Paris's would-be
floor show."

"If you could also have the Doc send a detox shot to Tom's room,
I'll make sure he's sober by the time I tuck him in."

"No...." Kathryn's expression was thoughtful. "I'll have the EMH
program a hangover remedy---for some time *after* Tom sleeps it off.
I'm also going to disable the comm in there for the duration so he
can't call and ask for one. The Lieutenant needs to be reminded that
there are reasons he shouldn't drink real alcohol."

I was suddenly glad I never revealed my few vices to her, either in
the capacity of Captain or friend. I didn't like to think what she'd
consider doing to teach *me* a lesson for my own good. "See you at
noon tomorrow," I said and stood to take my drunken subordinate in
hand.

Tom was just finishing his latest beer, almost tipping the tall
glass mug upside-down to get the last few drops hiding under the
remnants of foam. I deliberately avoided watching the Adam's apple
bob in that long pale throat. This was not a time to be reminded of
my hidden fantasies or wistful dreams.

Instead I slid next to him as he lazed at the resort's bar, his
whole body seemingly held up by the press of his forearms against
the rough wood surface.

"Hey," I said, my tone light, "Was that your one for the road?"

"Chakotay!" Tom greeted me with unprecedented delight. "Chakotay,
Chakotay, Chakotay---how the hell are you, Big Man?"

Uh-oh. My fair and suddenly overly friendly Lieutenant was obviously
three sheets to the wind. "Fine, thanks. Ready for bed, though." I
think he perked up a little, focusing on holding up his end of the
conversation, so I continued. "Want me to give you a lift home?"

"Mmmm...yeah, that's a swell idea, Chak." The usually coordinated
blond nearly sent his six-foot frame sprawling to the floor in an
uncontrolled slide off the bar. Fortunately, I caught him by the
arms, steadying him as he continued his vocal rambling. "I can show
you what I've picked out for Harry and B'El. Y'know, to say no hard
feelings, best of luck, happy birthday---whatever."

"I'm sure it'll be perfect, Tom. Why don't we go look at it now?" I
started assisting him through the holodeck. The chattering, laughing
crowd of crew still celebrating the good news seemed to take no
notice of our rather unsteady progress. It's hard to steer someone
when they seem intent on climbing all over you. I swear Tom was
vertically sprawled over my shoulders like I was a walking sofa or
something.

Still, he wasn't giving me any resistance, or even the usual sass as
we made it to the turbolift. I ordered it to travel to Deck Four.

"That's not your deck," Tom informed me helpfully as he lifted his
head from where he'd curled it behind my neck. His eyes blinked
owlishly as they peered across the 5.5 centimeters of space
separating them from mine.

I nearly staggered at the puff of fermented air he blew up my nose
along with his words. I firmly peeled his arms from around my
shoulders and set him squarely on his feet, then leaned him against
the wall when it was obvious he wasn't going to stay upright on his
own. "I know. We're going to your place so you can show me your
gift, remember?"

"Oh yeah." Tom's face brightened into such a sweet, happy smile I
caught my breath. It was an open, unguarded expression, one I seldom
saw on his very handsome face. The kind of look that had made me
fall helplessly in love with the mercurial man.

Helplessly and hopelessly in love. The hostilities between us had
been put aside almost two years ago, after he admitted he did agree
to betray my cell and I conceded that I wasn't giving him the same
clean slate I myself had gotten from Janeway. It seemed once we both
acknowledged we were wrong, the anger just disappeared and we began
to socialize regularly. I wouldn't call us good friends, though,
more like better-than-casual acquaintances.

By the time I recognized my own tender feelings Tom had begun his
dance with B'Elanna. Their affair lasted longer than I expected, but
eventually their too-similar emotional backgrounds and completely
divergent interests drove them apart.

I think Tom may have been looking to Harry for his next try at
friends-turned-lovers, but then the younger man began squiring
B'Elanna around the resort. Tom hid in Sandrine's for a while, but
their friendships eventually regained their equilibrium. Tom will be
Harry's best man at the wedding.

Though I feel badly for Tom, I have to admit that Harry seems a
better match for my fierce yet vulnerable friend. He is...easier for
B'Elanna to understand, I think. Harry has never pretended to be
anything except honest, optimistic, intelligent, innovative, loyal,
and now loving. B'Elanna's personal history has left her uncertain
about many things. Having such a steadfast, uncomplicated man to
ground her has given her the courage to explore her weaknesses and
accept her many strengths. Besides, it's obvious they adore each
other.

My own unspoken yearnings didn't lessen my empathy for Tom's
disappointment. Those emotions never really entered into the
equation. Tom has never flashed those baby blues my way, and I am
far too vulnerable to his sarcasm to deliberately open myself to it
by blurting out things he'd rather not know. So there's no reason to
feel glad that Tom is alone.

Instead, unrequited love seems to have made me wish the happiness of
a deeply heartfelt relationship for Tom, even if it can't be with
me. I simply don't think Harry would be any better for him than
B'Elanna. I deliberately avoid speculating on who would. I may be a
romantic sap but I'm not a masochist. I'll bury my dreams when the
time comes; until then I won't deliberately torture myself with
wondering who will soar with that free spirit.

We finally reached Tom's quarters. His loose-limbed, somewhat
diagonal walk continued into the cabin as he bulldozed us to his
bed. He plopped down, pulling me with him. Unfortunately, his
maneuverings left me closer to his bedside table, so he practically
dove over my thighs to rummage in what looked like a pretty
overstuffed drawer. I compiled warp vector equations while thinking
about naked Cardassians to keep my body under control as my dream
man gave me a rather bizarre unintentional lap dance. All I'd need
is to have to explain to a soused Tom Paris why my dick was suddenly
poking him in the stomach.

I almost lost the battle as that blond head turned my way and a
mischievous grin beamed over Tom's shoulder. "Close your eyes," he
demanded coyly, then hiccuped.

"What? Can't you just let me see it?" I was getting a little
desperate to be anywhere but touching that lissome body.

"Nope. I need to get your unvarnished first reaction. So...." He was
obviously not going to move until I complied. I sighed and gave in.

For a moment I just sat in agonized silence as Tom writhed a little
more and I moved a lot closer to my breaking point. Then there was a
click, a klink and a snick. During that last sound I felt something
secured around my wrist.

I opened my eyes and my mouth followed almost immediately. I was now
handcuffed to Tom, the fairly long chain connecting us snaking
through a hoop that was newly inserted in the bulkhead. A tiny
keypad with a small screen hung from the metal circlet on the wall.

"Gotcha!" Tom crowed as he crawled over my legs and settled himself
on one pillow. He tugged the ring in demonstration. "Even the mighty
Maquis Warrior won't be able to get this out without a crowbar. And
the cuffs won't open unless I punch in the code."

I moved to kneel on the other pillow, pulling at the hoop. He was
right; it was stuck fast. I then quickly examined the chains and
cuffs, but they too were unbreakable. I turned and matched Tom's
pose, resting my back against the bulkhead with my legs crossed at
the ankle. It was obvious from the dazed blue of Tom's eyes that he
was still sloshed.

I tapped my commbadge and nearly groaned at its unresponsiveness.
I'd forgotten Kathryn's plan to keep Tom incommunicado until he
suffered through his hangover. I was going to have to talk my way
out of this one. "So, this is your gift for Harry and B'Elanna?" I
asked casually.

"Yep." Tom's rapidly bobbing head also confirmed it.

"It's...very nice. I'm sure they'll really appreciate it." I gave
him what I hoped was an encouraging smile. "How about you let us go
now and put it back in the drawer, hmmm?"

"Not a chance, Chak." Tom's body seemed to ooze down along the bed
until he rested full length on the mattress. The cuff on his wrist
gleamed as he folded his hands over his stomach with a satisfied
sigh. "I've got you right where I want you."

"You do?" I asked stupidly. I'm not positive I sounded stupid, but
the odds were good so I figured I'd just admit it going in.

"Uh-huh," he replied smugly. Then he flashed those baby blues at
me---well, not flashed exactly. It was more like they took a long
slow glide up my casual trousers and button-down shirt like they
were doing aerial maps of the undiscovered country underneath them.
I'll bet Tom found a pretty stunned expression on my face by the
time he stopped lingering on certain spots and finally made his way
up that high.

Then he leaned up on his elbow, suddenly eager to share some secret.
"Can you guess what I want you here for?"

"Um, no." This situation was bad enough; I wasn't going to help Tom
humiliate either one of us.

Tom didn't answer right away. He seemed focused on my mouth, his
gaze heated. I could almost feel my lips swelling, blood filling
them as if I'd already been kissed. Then his expression grew dreamy,
the golden lashes drifting half-closed. "Did you know, Chak, that
half the time you're speaking I don't hear a word you say?"

"No, I didn't." I'd have been highly insulted if I wasn't distracted
by that enchanting face. I was so besotted I didn't even protest the
change in subject. I just uncrossed my legs and listened.

"Mmmhmmm," Tom continued with a lazy blink. "I get lost in watching
your mouth. Ripe, lush, full, rosy...I bet your lips are soft, and
sweet. And once they part everything is hot, wet honey within."

I peered into Tom's face, trying to figure out if he was serious,
deluded or playing some kind of prank. His eyes were dilated but
still glazed; I bet his inhibitions were lowered and quite possibly,
his outlook a little fuzzy. After that much beer the Doc would
probably be looking good to Tom right about now. I needed to keep in
mind that Kathryn might just as easily have been the focus of this
little verbal seduction. It hurt, but I gave myself a stern warning
not to get too carried away.

"Don't frown." Tom's face mirrored my expression as he shimmied back
up to my level. One long pale finger traced my down-turned lips.

It took a good bit of willpower not to lick that wandering digit
before his voice jerked me back to attention.

"I hate that," he pouted. "You have such a beautiful smile, I want
to see it all the time. I waited forever to see you smile at me.
Just for me."

That admission, real or not, stirred remorse. "I'm sorry. It wasn't
on purpose. Just...the way things were."

"I know. But we're better now. Aren't we?"

Tom's face was so hopeful I couldn't resist. I smiled, and he
rewarded me with one of his own. Then without missing a beat he
rolled so he was straddling my body, his long legs hugging my hips
while his hands began unbuttoning my shirt.

I was still braced against the bulkhead, trapped. Plus he'd moved so
fast I didn't have time to prevent my body from responding to the
electric sensation of being pressed to the star of my wet dreams. I
did manage to catch those determined fingers before they'd gotten
very far. A small victory but I'd take it.

I couldn't help my moan when Tom dipped his head to kiss the small
bit of skin he had managed to uncover. His mouth worked up and down
my throat, with his teeth stopping for samples along the way. Then
he pressed a little closer to me to whisper in my ear. I didn't even
mind the beer on his breath this time. His hard-on found a spot
right near my own, and I couldn't seem to stop my hips from lifting
to welcome it to the neighborhood.

"I watch your ass, too, Chak." Tom's hands were shifting in mine,
probably wanting to slide down to demonstrate how well they knew
where my ass was.

I tightened my grip slightly, determined to prevent their
wanderings. "Oh?" I managed to croak.

"Oh is right. Oh yeah, oh baby. The uniform doesn't do those glutes
justice." Tom sighed in rapture. "I want to fuck you so badly. Sweet
and slow so I can watch my cock sink into the best butt in the Delta
Quadrant. Then hard and fast. You have an ass that just begs for it,
Chak, and I want to give it to you. Over and over."

My hips shifted again as I realized how tight my pants were
becoming. Not to mention how intrigued my nipples were by the tickle
of Tom's chest hair through two layers of cloth. The sensations were
incredibly arousing, and his words were loosening my control.

Damn, I could practically feel Tom in me already, his balls tight
against my crack. But before I could be so far bedazzled by desire I
offered Tom my body---or worse still, my heart---I took another look
at the mental picture he'd painted for me. As far as I was
concerned, it needed some revisions.

"That sounds awfully one-sided. Isn't variety the spice of life?" I
could hear the caution in my comment. I was sure my eyes narrowed as
they probed still-hazy blue counterparts. I was very interested in
Tom's response. Drunk or no, if I didn't like what I heard I'd trash
his little fantasy world in a heartbeat. I enjoy a wild ride or
satin slide as often as the next man, but I'm nobody's 24/7 bottom
boy. Even in a relationship that only exists in Tom's alcohol-fogged
brain. Or my own love-addled one.

Then my heart stopped a moment at the expression of hope and wonder
that crossed Tom's face. It started up again immediately, but now it
was pounding.

Those sky-colored eyes were wide and his voice trembling as Tom
whispered---whispered! "Would you want that? To touch me, claim me,
make me yours?" His fingers stirred in mine again and I let them go,
still trapped by that stunned, stunning gaze. The slim fingers
curled around my own and brought them up to meet Tom's lips for a
quick string of kisses. I could barely breathe, I was so in the
moment.

"I remember overhearing B'Elanna and Seska talking once, when I was
still in the Maquis." Tom's breath seemed to be hitching too. I
automatically freed one hand to slide the hair from his forehead,
stroking, soothing. I felt tears burn my eyes as he closed his own a
moment before speaking again. "B'El was asking Seska why she was so
persistent in going after you, why she was so desperate to get you
back. She answered that she felt bereft without your arms around her
at night, your touch on her skin. In passion you were strong but so
gentle...so tender. Even if you didn't love her you still made her
feel loved."

Tom dropped his eyes and swallowed. When they returned to mine I saw
they were glittering. "I want that touch, Chakotay, that embrace.
I've been too much of a coward to tell you. It took me so long to
admit it to myself. And tonight at the party I realized that Harry
and B'El were getting that whole enchilada of love and marriage,
with extra hot sauce...and a side order of eternal bliss...maybe a
couple kids meals...and I can't even get a lousy take-out menu. So I
drank one beer and then another and then another---"

"Shhh...it's okay, everything's okay." I gently pressed Tom's head
to my shoulder, all desire gone in the wake of his teary-eyed
confession. I rubbed his back as he snuggled into me. I couldn't
make a declaration of my own. As fervently as I wanted to believe
these late-night revelations, I wasn't sure I was talking to the
real Tom Paris. I had a sinking suspicion that Tom had gone from
manic to depressive, a happy to a sad drunk. I'd seen it happen
before, early in our journey, when he'd had a late night at
Sandrine's. And as I recall Tom never meant a word he said while
inebriated, no matter how chipper or maudlin or even sincere he
seemed at the time. I looked up at the ceiling and struggled with
whether to listen to my heart or my head.

A light snore broke the fruitless swirl of indecision. Tom was fast
asleep. I shook my head, pressed a smiling kiss to his brow, then
gently shifted him to lie beside me.

I tugged one last time at the chain, but it was solid. I was stuck
in Tom Paris's bed until morning. I only hesitated a moment before
divesting my bedmate of his shoes, socks and slacks. His shirt, like
mine, couldn't be removed since we wouldn't be able to slide out of
the sleeves.

I undressed to the same degree and managed to move us both under the
covers and get the lights turned off without waking him. I froze
when I felt that lanky body shift so Tom's head rested on my
shoulder once more. Then I shrugged and let things be. I threaded my
fingers through Tom's so the chain wouldn't pull tight during the
night, laid my cheek against his hair, and closed my eyes. I
wouldn't take any of this night's events at face value. Until Tom
repeated himself while stone-cold sober all of this was no more than
a beautiful memory to coax me into sleep.

But for the first time, I did more than dream. I dared to hope.

TBC