MATING DANCE

Title: Mating Dance, 1/1
Author: Jaye (Copyright December 2002)
Codes: VOY 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 
intimations of 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: Chakotay learns something when he gives a samba lesson.

Note: Set after "Fair Haven". Originally written for the "Die J/C Die" contest.

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

"Kathryn Janeway is an idiot."

"Don't start, Greg." Chakotay didn't even turn to face his friend as he 
delivered the warning. He settled further into in the wing chair in the parlor 
of Fair Haven's Ox and Lamb. The firelight from the hearth---the only light in 
the room---shot through the glass mug of cider in his hand, enhancing its amber 
glimmer.

"Chakotay, she's in Sullivan's right now, playing barmaid and flirting with that 
damn hologram." Gregor Ayala threw himself into the matching chair. His 
agitation was clear as he shoved to the edge of the seat, leaning forward to 
ask, "What are you going to do about it?"

Chakotay continued to stare ahead in silence a moment, debating how much to 
reveal. Then he raised his eyes to the other man's and quietly answered, 
"Nothing."

"What?!! You're just going to leave her in that---that scruffy pseudo-Irishman's 
arms?" Greg searched his former captain's face in disbelief.

Chakotay took a long swig of his drink and stood, crossing to look out one of 
the hearthside windows at the darkened square. The old-fashioned, wavy glass 
distorted his reflection as he stared into the night, and himself. "It's funny. 
Everybody in the crew seems to think I should be out of my mind with jealousy. 
But I'm not."

He turned with a rueful smile. "I'm a stubborn man, Greg; I've never denied it. 
But even I get tired of banging my head against the wall eventually." He 
sobered. "Maybe this is Kathryn's way of sending a message, of making sure I 
know, once and for all, that she'll never consider a relationship with me."

Greg carefully scrutinized Chakotay's expression. "Don't you think you should 
ask her?"

"Maybe," Chakotay sighed. "Sometimes I wonder what the point would be. It's not 
as though she ever made any promises to me." He looked down, brows drawn. "Or 
even gave me any sign of wanting more than a friend and casual flirtation."

"What about you, what do you want?" Greg rose to stand near, one hand on a 
shoulder a silent gesture of support.

"I don't know, Greg," Chakotay answered honestly. "If you'd asked me that 
question even a year ago I'd have said Kathryn Janeway, but now...I'm not sure 
we fit any more."

"Then you should move on, Cap." Greg's voice was firm.

That earned him a grim chuckle as Chakotay shifted to set his mug on the mantel 
and stare into the fire. "To what, to whom? It's too late. I've already given 
up---" he stopped, shaking his head.

"On whom?" Greg asked. "After Seska, the only person I've ever seen you show 
interest in was the Captain."

Chakotay smiled wistfully as he answered. "Two people, actually. One with a 
passion to stir the blood, the other with a brightness that lifts the spirit. 
Though Kathryn had first claim on my heart, each of them had stolen a corner of 
it for their own."

"And you never said anything?" Greg drifted over to the other side of the 
fireplace.

"It wouldn't have been right," Chakotay said. He met Greg's eyes. "They both had 
some growing up to do to become the people they were meant to be. I didn't want 
to get in their way."

"What about now?"

"That's the irony of it all." Chakotay dropped his gaze back to the fire. "I 
lost any chance with either one of them when they found each other."

Greg figured it out, expressing his surprise in a quiet whistle. "No wonder you 
hesitated. Hero-worship on the one side and antagonism on the other." His face 
creased in sympathy.

"Yes. But I still loved Kathryn, so I could be happy for them. Now..." Chakotay 
trailed off, his eyes narrowed as he considered the other man anew. "Now I 
wonder if I'm doing her a disservice."

"How?" Greg asked as he tensed warily.

"By hanging around, mooning over Kathryn like some parody of ancient chivalry, 
I'm keeping everyone else away." Chakotay's suspicions coalesced at Greg's 
guilty start.

"I don't think---"

"You should try, Greg." Chakotay clapped a hand to his friend's shoulder and 
squeezed. "There are a few more links between you and Kathryn in the chain of 
command. Maybe it's just enough to free her." He grinned. "If you're interested, 
that is."

"You know damn well I am," Greg muttered, embarrassment flooding his face with 
color. He hunched slightly, not looking at Chakotay.

"Then think about it. Don't wait too long to grasp the opportunity for 
happiness. It slips through your fingers before you know it." Chakotay's 
expression must have convinced his friend, because after a few moments of 
staring Greg gave a thoughtful nod.

The two men left the room and the holodeck for the night.

In the shadows beyond the fire's domain, two figures stirred from their 
impromptu hiding place. Their tryst had been interrupted by the others' entry. 
First embarrassment, then shock had kept them quiet all this time. Now the 
silence was filled with speculation.

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

"Explain to me again why I'm doing this, B'Elanna," Chakotay requested with a 
good-natured smile as he sat on a backless wooden bench and rubbed the sting out 
of his shin.

The half-Klingon flushed with chagrin and smoothed her skirt as she stood before 
him. "I'm sorry, Chakotay. I didn't mean to kick you."

Affection filled him at his friend's obvious discomfort. "Of course you didn't," 
he said warmly. "It's natural to feel off-balance during that move, especially 
if you're a beginner." He grinned. "And better you work the kinks out with me 
than Tom, right? I bet he bruises much more easily."

B'Elanna's lips twitched of their own accord, and she relaxed with a shrug and a 
grin of her own. "Maybe. I'll need to look at your leg in a few hours for a 
proper comparison."

"So this dance lesson is just a convoluted ruse to get me to take off my 
clothes? I should have known." Chakotay was surprised to see B'Elanna blush at 
his teasing. He stood up, walked to the middle of the dance studio and beckoned. 
"Let's try this again."

He silently admired B'Elanna's halter dress as his partner took up position 
across from him once more. "Okay, B'Elanna, now remember the samba is based on a 
congo rhythm; keep the beat in your head and your body will follow. It 
represents more of a tease than a straight seduction. The man persuades, the 
lady dismisses, he pulls her in close, she pushes away."

"And if the lady doesn't want to push him away?" B'Elanna asked.

Chakotay looked into her beautiful dark eyes and gave himself a mental shake, 
reminding himself that she was talking about Tom. Her lover and his friend. He 
grinned. "Then you play hard to get until the music ends." He took her hand in 
his and shifted her other to his shoulder. "Ready?"

At B'Elanna's nod, he eased her closer. Calling for music they began the ebb and 
flow of the dance, gliding together and apart, crossing and turning.

Then Chakotay spun B'Elanna away from him so their arms were extended, linked 
only by their clasped hands. Her skirt wrapped itself around her legs as he 
reeled her back in to stand directly in front of him, her back to his front.

"This is a samba roll," he instructed as he slid one arm around her waist and 
extended the other, his hand clasping one of hers. "Just follow my lead."

The sensation was heady, their hips gyrating as one as their bodies arched and 
bent and their steps sketched a small circle. All the time grooving to the 
throbbing Latin beat. Chakotay's breath caught as B'Elanna's head naturally 
settled into the crook of his neck, her body pressing back into his.

He hastily put a bit of space between them, not wanting to upset her with his 
sudden arousal. It was just a reaction to her closeness, he sternly told 
himself, and the residue of abandoned dreams. But he was relieved when they 
returned to a regular dance position and began another series of steps.

Delivering a severe mental lecture about how wrong his attraction was he managed 
to bring his body under control by the time they flowed into the closing 
movements, finishing up with another samba roll. B'Elanna spun to face Chakotay 
and he dipped her, the final flourish.

B'Elanna's face was glowing with exertion and accomplishment as she smiled up at 
him. "We did it Chakotay!"

"Yes, and no damage this time." As he laughed down at her he saw her eyes darken 
as she focused on his mouth. Her breath caught as her arms tightened around him.

Chakotay felt the press of her breasts against his chest, the way her leg was 
wrapped around his hip, the ripe curves of her lips so alluring, so close. All 
he had to do was dip his head and he could claim their sweetness, their heat.

He hastily straightened, swinging B'Elanna to her feet and dropping his hands. 
He cleared his throat. "You certainly seem to have gotten the hang of it."

"Um, yes, well, I had a good teacher." The half-Klingon's voice seemed huskier 
than usual. She shook out her skirt.

Chakotay felt the awkward tension, the awareness between them. Like his blood 
was still thrumming to the music's seductive beat. Seeing B'Elanna as a 
desirable woman. Wanting her. Loving her. He knew nothing could come of it, so 
he sought to dispel the atmosphere of passion. He didn't want to lose his friend 
over this...aberration. "So, do you think Tom will do as well?"

"What? Oh, probably. He grew up with cotillions and balls and such." B'Elanna 
relaxed at the mention of her lover. The smile she gave Chakotay held a touch of 
mischief. "Do *you* think he'll learn the routine before you strangle him for 
mouthing off?"

"He knows better than to provoke me when he wants something from me, B'Elanna," 
Chakotay said matter-of-factly as he crossed to a bench at the edge of the dance 
floor. He picked up his water bottle and tossed B'Elanna's to her. "I still 
can't figure out how you got him to agree to go to a holographic dance club with 
you. I thought he wasn't into such romantic venues."

"He owes me---big time. All those weeks tweaking Fair Haven, and then playing in 
it when he *knew* I didn't feel comfortable there, all those rustics staring at 
me." B'Elanna's glossy hair flew as she shook her head. "He's lucky he has his 
own quarters, 'cause he was definitely in the doghouse with me."

"Well, I'm glad he came to his senses." As they walked out he slung an arm 
around his friend's shoulders as hers naturally came around his waist. "I'd have 
hated to have to beat him up now that we're getting along so well."

"But it's nice to know the offer is still open. I'll keep that in mind." 
B'Elanna cast a glance upward. "But for now, go easy on Tom. Remember, blonds 
bruise a lot more easily."

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

"Okay, Chakotay," Tom said as he stood in the middle of the dance floor, "how do 
you want me?"

"Now *there's* a loaded question." Chakotay grinned as he approached the younger 
man. "Since you already have some experience at this, I'll let you decide how 
the lesson should go. For the initial run-through, the instructor either stands 
in front and the student mimics the positions, or behind, guiding the student's 
movements."

"The former, I think." Tom grinned. "Better view."

Chakotay just snorted and put his back to his cheeky pupil. He looked in the 
mirrored wall and was startled to see blue eyes actually checking him out. He 
shrugged it off as another tease and began the routine, explaining the steps as 
he moved through them.

He kept his focus on Tom, evaluating his efforts. They weren't bad, but..."Tom, 
you need to loosen up a little more. Latin dances are different from the waltzes 
and foxtrots you're used to. More earthy...more connected to the rhythm. It's 
hard to describe, but you're a little too airy."

"Well, it's better than being all wet," Tom quipped as he stopped. He shook his 
head. "I can see what you mean, Chakotay. I'm too stiff; it's like you're making 
love while I'm shaking hands. But I don't know what to do about it."

Chakotay considered the blond. "You could let me do the driving next time 
around."

"All right." Tom stayed put and Chakotay circled to stand behind him. As Tom had 
done to him earlier, Chakotay's eyes involuntarily strayed over the lean body. 
He suppressed a regretful sigh. Between Tom and B'Elanna he was going to be in 
for a really long, cold shower tonight.

He stepped close to the lanky form, fitting his knees behind Tom's and 
stretching his arms to lightly grip his companion's long limbs. "All right, 
we'll go slow. I mainly want you to get a sense of the relationship between your 
hips and the beat." He applied a light pressure. "You want your legs a little 
more bent, not necessarily for bounce, though. Think of a stalking cat, low, 
smooth and powerful movements."

Chakotay guided Tom through the dance, feeling like a strange sort of puppeteer. 
He admitted to himself he enjoyed having the younger man in his arms, a pleasure 
that otherwise was forever denied him.

He moved them into the samba rolls and was surprised to hear a small moan. A 
quick glance toward the mirrors confirmed it had come from Tom. His wide lower 
lip was clenched between his teeth and the blue eyes were squeezed shut.

His own cock took immediate interest. Cursing his weakness for the second time 
that day, Chakotay again slipped back. It was just too easy for him to fit right 
into the cleft of that khaki-clad ass.

Another look in the mirror shocked Chakotay as he realized Tom was sporting a 
similarly hard-to-hide reaction to their proximity. As the music stopped 
Chakotay hastily stepped away. "You seem ready for anything," he began, then 
blushed at the unintentional double-entendre. "I mean, you picked this up as 
quickly as B'Elanna. You two should be dancing up a storm in no time."

Both men were breathing a little unsteadily as Tom turned around. His eyes were 
dilated, cheeks flushed. Chakotay kept a death grip on his control. He was 
*definitely* heading right into that cold shower. He may never leave it.

Chakotay had a feeling, though, that the yearning in his heart for the man 
before him would be much harder to quench.

When Tom's mouth opened to speak Chakotay beat a hasty retreat, gathering up his 
bottle, filling his hands with stuff to hold off the temptation to grab 
something else. "You did a great job, Tom. I think you and B'Elanna are going to 
be fantastic together."

Chakotay fled, not looking back.

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

It had been a very hard week. Chakotay felt preternaturally aware of Tom and 
B'Elanna when he was in the same room with the couple. He was almost grateful 
for the intense negotiations with a new species of Delta Quadrant aliens. The 
complex trade rules kept his mind from wandering to the two lovers, who seemed 
constantly around him these days.

He couldn't decide if their routine had changed, or whether he'd just kept 
himself from noticing before now.

Another welcome distraction was Greg's pursuit of Kathryn. Chakotay's longtime 
friend had a reputation for being a man of few words. But he'd also never had to 
persuade someone so stubborn before.

Greg became a fixture in Sullivan's bar---taking part in the Irish dancing, 
spinning yarns, even singing romantic ballads. He was determined to make Kathryn 
forget "that scruffy pseudo-Irishman" sooner rather than later.

And he seemed to be making some headway, if their cozy little chat in the Mess 
Hall at lunch was anything to go by.

Chakotay sighed as he called up the dance studio once more and set his water 
bottle on the bench. He'd urged Greg to take a chance; he had no right to feel 
jealous that Kathryn was more relaxed with Greg than she'd ever been with him.

If he needed some consolation for his bruised ego, he could always try to 
convince himself that Greg's lower spot in the chain of command was what made 
the difference.

He lifted a hand and rubbed the back of his neck. If he were honest with 
himself, what he really needed was a cure for his jealousy. But not of Greg and 
Kathryn.

He was jealous of Tom and B'Elanna---both of them. And he needed to pin down and 
conquer the temptation he was wrestling with before he did something stupid and 
lost them both as friends.

Ironically, he was no closer to choosing between the two: bright, beautiful, 
passionate. His dreams were filled with holding each of them in his arms.

"Penny for your thoughts."

The silky tone right next to his ear made him jump. "B'Elanna!" he scolded as he 
put some distance between them.

"Touchy." B'Elanna crossed her arms, brows raised. "What's up with you lately, 
Chakotay?"

"Nothing." Chakotay snapped, then sighed. "Sorry, I do seem to be a bit 
stressed."

"Well, don't strain anything during this lesson, okay? I don't want wild rumors 
to start of how I landed you in Sickbay." B'Elanna strode into the dance space 
and took up position. "Ready?"

"All right." Chakotay carefully eased into place, feeling more awkward and aware 
than he had a week ago.

The music began, and he moved into the steps, alternately cradling and releasing 
B'Elanna in accordance with the choreography.

He closed his eyes as they began the first samba roll, luxuriating in the 
stirring of his senses. When they reverted to the complex steps he opened them 
and sought his partner's face.

The Latin rhythm thrummed through their blood as their gazes locked. They drew 
together, then apart, but the pull of attraction enticed them closer, their 
breaths quickening.

The last set of rolls was an almost incendiary melding as their bodies mimicked 
the act of passion. B'Elanna turned in Chakotay's embrace and he was captured by 
the fire in her dark eyes. As he dipped her his hand lifted of its own accord to 
caress her cheek. "B'Elanna," he whispered, feeling her tremble in his embrace.

"Chakotay, I..." Her voice was a thread of sound.

Reaching into himself for control, Chakotay straightened and hastily pushed her 
away. "I'm sorry, B'Elanna." His voice sounded a little strangled. "I don't know 
what came over me. I'd never---"

"I know exactly what came over you," B'Elanna said quietly as she stepped toward 
him. "It's always been there, buried, waiting for just the right moment..."

Chakotay's eyes widened. His platonic friend was practically shimmering with 
desire, with intent. She laid a hand on his forearm and leaned into his body as 
she whispered, "...to ignite." Her lips were just under his.

He took a deep breath heady with her scent and leaned back. "B'Elanna, we can't. 
This isn't right. Tom---" He stopped with a gasp as lean arms wound around him 
and a body---a male body---pressed into his back.

"---is right here," Tom purred into Chakotay's ear. "Eagerly anticipating his 
cue."

Chakotay froze. B'Elanna closed the tiny distance, completing the circle as she 
embraced him from the front, her arms sliding on top of Tom's.

"What is going on here?" Chakotay asked as he sought to free himself. Both sets 
of limbs tightened and he stilled, suddenly wary.

Tom shifted so Chakotay could see both of them. His voice was quiet and his eyes 
as serious as Chakotay had ever seen them. "We heard you talking with Greg in 
Fair Haven."

Chakotay closed his eyes as his cheeks burned in humiliation. "Everything?"

A palm on his face drew his attention as B'Elanna smiled at him. "Chakotay, 
don't you understand? We were 'breaking the place in' when you two interrupted 
us. We were too embarrassed to let you know we were there. And then---"

"And then to hear you say you were interested in *both* of us..." Tom's face 
turned dreamy a moment. "It was like a fantasy come true." He focused once more 
and wrapped a hand around Chakotay's nape. "When B'Elanna and I got together, 
part of our connection was built on the fact we both wanted *you*."

"But we never thought you'd give up on Kathryn, Chakotay. So we took comfort in 
each other." B'Elanna settled herself closer to his body as she took up the 
story. "In a way it was the best solution, because we both wanted to be your 
choice, but didn't want the other to not be."

Chakotay shivered as two sets of hands started wandering. He stopped them. "But 
you two are in a *relationship*," he said, searching dark and light eyes. 
"You're taking a great risk here."

"Only if you lied to Greg, Chakotay." B'Elanna's face was solemn. "We know how 
we feel about you, and each other. The only question left is what you want from 
us."

"Truth time, Big Man." Tom's anxious expression belied his teasing tone.

"The truth? Well, the truth is..." Chakotay raised his hands to cup a pale jaw 
and a golden one. He bestowed a kiss on pink lips, then rosy. "The truth is I 
could never choose between you because I love you both." His voice was low and 
serious. "But be very sure of what happens next. Because if you let me into your 
lives I'll never want to leave."

Then *he* was kissed---tenderly but passionately, a promise of a thorough 
ravishment to come. First by Tom, whose hands insinuated themselves under 
Chakotay's shirttail to caress his back. Then by B'Elanna, who boldly unfastened 
buttons and slid her hands across his chest, nails lightly scraping.

Chakotay shuddered and groaned, his body arching into the strokes. When he came 
back to himself it was to find the two watching him, both sets of eyes black 
with desire.

"Oh fuck," Tom moaned as his hands wandered to cup Chakotay's butt and give a 
squeeze. He began nibbling on the skin B'Elanna had exposed. "We need you naked 
and in a bed---*now*."

"Just turn the floor into a mattress, Tom," B'Elanna panted, her hands already 
ripping off Chakotay's shirt. "The mirrors---I don't want to miss a thing."

Chakotay surrendered, letting himself be pulled down and into their embrace. 
They wrapped themselves around him and he welcomed them. His clothes seemed to 
melt away under their roaming, teasing hands as their lips began to learn his 
skin. Chakotay was startled to hear a gasp as his briefs were drawn down and 
off, then two awed voices speaking in unison.

"Kathryn Janeway is an idiot."

THE END