STRONG MEDICINE

Title: Strong Medicine, 2/2
Author: Jaye (Copyright September 2003)
Codes: VOY P/T, C/Tu, C/P NC-17

Disclaimer: Star Trek and all related characters and concepts are the property 
of Paramount. No infringement is intended or profit made. This is NC-17 for 
angst, adult themes, language, sex, and mild BDSM. 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: The consequences of Tom and B'Elanna's relationship.

Note: These characters are more flawed and gritty than usual. Inspired by the 
question of why B'Elanna would stay with Tom when, in canon, they didn't really 
seem to be "together" until B'Elanna's pregnancy. (That is, Tom often ignored 
her in favor of other pursuits, and B'Elanna didn't seem to mind all that much.) 
Started out as a C/Tu a few months ago, but strangely enough circled back to 
C/P.

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

PART TWO (CONCLUSION)

Chakotay stared into the bathroom mirror as he dried his hair. He almost 
chuckled as he recalled Tuvok's "suggestion" that he dispel the "indisputable 
aroma of alcohol" by utilizing the shower in their VIP suite.

Neutral ground.

His amusement waned as he contemplated the logic of the arrangements. It was 
natural for Tuvok to not want to taint his private quarters with memories of the 
two of them together. Of an encounter dictated by circumstances, not desire.

But how did *he* feel about it? Would it have been wiser to bring Tuvok to his 
own bedroom instead, to exorcise memories of Tom with those of a very different 
man?

Perhaps. But he couldn't. Just couldn't.

Chakotay sighed ruefully, grimacing at his reflection. He should be handling 
this better. He'd been burning bridges since he was 15 years old, when he first 
left Dorvan for Starfleet Academy. He'd learned a long time ago to similarly put 
aside his romantic disappointments and move on.

As he'd told Tuvok, he'd certainly been forced to swallow the bitter draughts of 
rejection and betrayal enough times. The Delta Quadrant was full of women who'd 
broken his heart.

And now a man had joined the list. Though technically, he supposed, it wasn't 
entirely Tom's fault. Tom had cheated on him, no doubt about it, but the younger 
man had also sought to mend their broken bond. To forget about B'Elanna and the 
Srivani-induced relationship between them.

But Chakotay had told Tom the truth. He was wary of the bizarre creature Tom 
seemed to become when they were together. And he was weary of the pain of 
*knowing* he was being lied to. That Tom didn't feel he could be trusted.

Tom's evasions hurt worse than Seska's tricks, or Riley's and Kathryn's dupes. 
Because Chakotay had cared more for Tom than for anyone in his life. Had wanted 
more with him, hoped for more. But his dream of a finding a soulmate in Tom had 
never come to pass.

So it was over. He just wished his heart would get the message and cease 
yearning for things that would never be, with someone whom he'd never truly had.

It should be even easier to get over the end of yet another affair this time. In 
the real emotional sense, Tom and he had never been intimate, despite the fact 
that they'd had sex. The younger man had remained a cipher, closed-off and 
unknowable.

Chakotay knew he'd done the right thing in letting Tom go. Giving Tom the chance 
to find something better, with someone he trusted enough to be himself. To share 
his secrets. To end the lies.

So Chakotay should be glad it was finished. The vague unease the doomed 
relationship evoked should have dissipated into nothing.

Except the idea of what might have been still wafted through his mind, a 
lingering wisp of beguiling cologne.

With time it was sure to fade. At least, he hoped so; maybe then his heartache 
would ease as well.

With a last sigh he tossed aside the towel, tightened the belt on his robe, and 
briskly finger-combed his hair. Keeping his back straight and his head high, he 
walked out to meet...his new mate.

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

Tuvok was pacing the bedroom, anxiety and anticipation running like electric 
current along his nerves. The silk of his robe teased his skin, alternately 
sliding or clinging damply in places still wet from his own shower.

Both men had needed the time---and privacy---after the EMH's regimen of 
preparations. He had insisted that both Chakotay and Tuvok needed medical 
treatment before risking the stresses a homosexual experience of pon farr would 
engender.

Tuvok could sense the effects of the suppository that had loosened his anal 
passage slightly and coated it for ease of penetration. Both he and Chakotay 
were ready to accommodate a full physical joining. Visions of bodies shifting, 
clenching, sent another shiver along his limbs.

He was venturing into unknown territory. In every sense.

T'Pel had been his only lover, ever. And they'd never indulged in the 
more...exotic...forms of intercourse. The pon farr was certainly no time for 
experimenting, and neither one had suggested this particular form of 
consummation in the years between.

So now Tuvok was about to have some very private fantasies come to life.

He had told the truth; he'd always been fascinated by the dichotomy of 
Chakotay's personality. The Maquis rebel: bloodthirsty avenger and unemotional 
tactician. The Starfleet officer: efficient, organized taskmaster and warm, 
caring counselor. The friend: loyal supporter yet honest advisor. Seska's lover: 
passionate beast and tender romantic.

The last he knew not from observation, but conversation. Chakotay had kept the 
relationship private, but Seska had not been so discreet. She had shared many 
intimate details with B'Elanna, eagerly whispering together as they'd worked on 
the Maquis ship's engines. Oblivious to the acuteness of Vulcan hearing.

If Seska's gloating held even a modicum of truth, Chakotay was quite a catch. 
And she did take it hard when she lost him. She became, indeed, the 
personification of the ancient human adage about a woman scorned.

Tuvok stopped abruptly when the bathroom door opened. He turned to see Chakotay 
glide into the bedroom.

His breathing and blood quickened at the sight of Chakotay, the deep color of 
the human's robe a perfect match for the lines of his tattoo. Tuvok's fingers 
flicked of their own accord; he pulled them back, awaiting consent.

Chakotay's own hand seemed to hesitate a moment, then stretched out to beckon. 
"Let's begin," he said simply.

Tuvok stepped forward, his physical urges temporarily suppressed by the need to 
set the mental bond. He slid one hand into Chakotay's and raised the other to 
press fingertips to the bronze temple and cheek. He stared into dark eyes that 
were quiet, calm, waiting. He let himself sink into their serenity, drawing upon 
it to bolster his own control. "My mind to your mind," he murmured, "Your 
thoughts to my thoughts."

Chakotay gave a mental flinch at the first slither of alien awareness into his 
consciousness. He stilled, willing himself to acceptance, to welcome. It wasn't 
Tuvok's fault that all of Chakotay's previous mental encounters had ended 
disastrously.

He could sense Tuvok fumbling, seeking connection. The Vulcan's mating fever 
colored his aura in Chakotay's imagination to the sullen glow of coals just 
catching fire. He embraced the warmth, absorbing it, building an earthen ring 
around it to both nurture and contain the elemental power.

When he came back to himself he found his hands cupped around Tuvok's face, his 
index fingers lightly tracing the sweep of pointed ears. He blinked, amused 
embarrassment quirking his mouth. "May I?" he asked wryly.

Chakotay felt Tuvok's nod as well as saw it. He once more followed the delicate 
curves and whorls. He could feel physically and mentally Tuvok's reaction to 
stimulation of what was clearly a Vulcan erogenous zone. The older man gave a 
low moan and braced his hands on Chakotay's shoulders, fingers twisting into 
fabric.

The hands dropped away to clench into fists as the tension in Tuvok's frame 
increased. Chakotay moved his own fingers to the throat of Tuvok's robe. He 
carefully slid it open and away, revealing a dark body of slender strength. 
Dusky skin covered lean muscle and long bones, the contours casting faint 
shadows into the hollows, wiry dark hair surrounding a gleaming spear of 
arousal.

Chakotay projected caring and the stirring of desire through the link that bound 
him to Tuvok. He offered nothing deeper, always aware of Tuvok's bond to T'Pel, 
an ember buried at the core of what they were building together.

Tuvok's own fingers trembled slightly as he unknotted the tie of the garment 
hiding Chakotay's form from view. He was surprised at Chakotay's restraint in 
the first delicate steps of this dance. He had not expected his human companion 
to be so...sensitive. So aware of Tuvok's precarious balancing act between the 
mental and physical demands of the moment and the careful protection of his 
marriage bond.

He relaxed, within and without.

Chakotay apparently caught the change, his head tilting and brows lifting in 
surprise. "You weren't sure you could trust me, Tuvok?" he asked.

Tuvok just shook his head in reply and yanked open Chakotay's robe. Trust, by 
its very nature, was fraught with the uncertainties of the untested, the 
unknown. Tuvok had no other choice, so he allowed Chakotay to guide him through 
the mating cycle.

It was...comforting to have the wisdom of his choice of temporary mate affirmed.

But his logic and even his thoughts were hazing under the rising heat of want 
and need. His eyes raked Chakotay's nude body, confirming for himself the heft 
and power always hinted at but rarely expressed.

Tuvok reached out and ran his fingertips along the muscles of Chakotay's chest 
and ribs, surprised at the smoothness of the golden-brown skin, the coolness a 
balm to his own fevered heat. He panted slightly at the sight of a bronze cock 
at the apex of strong thighs.

His hands clenched as he suddenly yanked at Chakotay's hips, smashing their 
bodies together as he sought full lips that had haunted his dreams since the 
Srivani's arrival.

Chakotay turned his head to the side and countered Tuvok's aggression with some 
of his own. He gripped Tuvok around the waist and tossed him onto the bed. He 
pressed his advantage, spreading his own body over Tuvok's, capturing his 
companion's wrists in one hand and pulling them above Tuvok's close-cropped 
head.

He stared at Tuvok shuddering, shifting and growling below him. "There's a 
secret to surviving the pon farr," he murmured quietly as he stroked his free 
hand along the side of Tuvok's face and throat, exploring, caressing. "It's not 
a strength of body, but of will. And I shall *not* let either one of us be hurt 
by this, Tuvok."

Tuvok heard the promise in the soft-spoken words, felt it in Chakotay's touch on 
his mind and body. He sensed the sorrows of Chakotay's past, overlaid by the 
pain of the younger man's love for Tom Paris, the hopeless yearning heartache.

Then Chakotay kissed him, and all Tuvok could think of was the fire that blazed 
in his veins. Here was the beast of Seska's tales, as Chakotay claimed his 
breath, body, and soul. An implacable mouth slanted ruthlessly over Tuvok's, 
demanding tongue roaming where it would. All Tuvok could do was groan in 
pleasure, his hands shifting restlessly in Chakotay's grip even as he strained 
at the mental bond.

Wanting more. Wanting all. But denied, at least in the link.

Tuvok's blood heated further as Chakotay's plundering lips left his own to 
ravish his flesh. Teasing licks and kisses feathered over his throat and chest, 
with stinging nips creating a random pattern on his torso. His nipples were 
rolled and sucked to almost-painful hardness. He arched into the sensations, 
unconsciously parting his thighs.

Chakotay kept a firm hold on Tuvok even as he feasted on succulent dark flesh. 
He knew he had to control the first encounter---it was the only way to ensure he 
wouldn't be shredded to bits in Tuvok's mating frenzy later in the cycle. *His* 
will must reign supreme, even as he yielded his body to his sex-crazed mate.

But that was later. Now he rubbed his cheek against Tuvok's trembling belly, 
murmuring reassurances in Vulcan and still projecting them through the bond. He 
was getting a sense of Tuvok, the whole man rather than just the fraction he had 
learned of him in the time they'd been crewmates. It was a full life, and for a 
moment he grieved at what Tuvok had lost in Voyager's trek across the stars.

But he was soon distracted by the heat of Tuvok's skin and the older man's mewls 
of need. Chakotay sampled the fluid running down the Vulcan's long dark cock. 
The flavor was unique in his experience, but not unpleasant. And he firmly 
quashed any comparisons to his most recent bedmate.

Tom Paris certainly had no place here.

Instead, Chakotay explored his mate's length with lips and tongue, then nuzzled 
lower into the wiry curls covering the taut ballsac. He rose up, opening Tuvok's 
legs further with his knees, careful to keep Tuvok's wrists confined but 
lowering them to ease the strain.

Tuvok groaned, low and husky, as teeth teased the crown of his cock with quick 
light scrapes. His desire surged and he lifted his hips, seeking a haven for his 
turgid sex.

He watched, panting, as Chakotay opened glistening lips and sucked him in. He 
arched again, thrusting, primal urges driving him to fuck Chakotay's mouth with 
no thought beyond his own release.

The touch of Chakotay's free hand between his buttocks startled him, then drove 
him to a faster rhythm as fingers pressed against his opening. He arched and 
shouted, shuddering his release as Chakotay's throat muscles worked around him, 
swallowing, increasing his pleasure.

He sank back, covered in sweat, his hands flopping loosely in Chakotay's hold, 
their bond thrumming with his satisfaction.

Chakotay released Tuvok's cock and wrists, grinning at his temporarily sated 
lover. "If only it were that easy," he said as he slid up the dark supine form 
to settle his pelvis at the join of Tuvok's thighs. He grazed the tops of 
Tuvok's shoulders with his teeth.

A grunt was his only verbal response, but Chakotay was surprised at the 
complexity of emotions that flowed through the link. He was relieved to sense 
anticipation, for he had given Tuvok fair warning: he would take his own 
pleasure in this mating.

So he knelt and gripped Tuvok's legs to sling them over his shoulders. He looked 
down the length of the gleaming dark body as he shifted, slowly working the head 
of his penis into the scorching heat of Tuvok's opening. He groaned, struggling 
to keep his penetration gradual as he slid into the slick sheath.

In an agony of careful movements he sank deeper, but finally his groin rested 
tight against Tuvok's buttocks. He paused, panting, giving Tuvok time to get 
used to the sensation of being filled.

Tuvok shifted slightly, the rod of flesh in his body stimulating his desires 
once more. His cock twitched and he groaned as blood surged there once more to 
stiffen him to arousal. This was not just the pon farr; he was *enjoying* this, 
as well as anticipating the time when their roles would be reversed.

Yet he acquiesced to Chakotay's dominance of the mating bond. He knew he trusted 
his mate, but could no longer remember why it was important to do so. His life, 
his sense of self, were as vague as his thoughts, fleeting and distant. But the 
influence of the younger man didn't seem so much a restraint as an embrace, now.

The gentle meeting of minds was a sharp counterpoint to the carnal connection of 
their bodies as Chakotay began to move, quick short thrusts mixed with long 
fierce plunges into Tuvok's body. He reveled in the slide of their sweaty flesh, 
the heat of Tuvok's channel around his cock.

He growled low in his throat as he saw Tuvok's hands twist into the bedsheet, 
heard the low sounds of renewed need strangling in the long dark throat. He 
leaned forward, claiming Tuvok's mouth once more as he continued to thrust.

Tuvok plunged one hand into Chakotay's hair and slid the other between their 
shifting forms to grip his own cock, seeking relief for the tension tightening 
his body and throbbing through his groin. He stroked himself in time with 
Chakotay's movements, feeling the need, the fever build each time they came 
together. Suddenly he was over the edge, his back arching, mouth opening with a 
rough animal sound as ecstasy washed through his body and surged out through his 
spurting cock.

Chakotay released Tuvok's mouth as he felt the body beneath him stiffen in 
orgasm. He groaned at the heat squeezing around his flesh as he continued to 
move, a handful of furious thrusts before he too surrendered with a cry as his 
semen filled the dark man's bowels. He slid Tuvok's legs off his shoulders, then 
braced his own hands on the mattress, trying to keep himself from crushing Tuvok 
as they caught their breaths.

He reached to snag a preset damp towel, carefully cleaning Tuvok's body, then 
his own. When he leaned to the side once more to dispose of the cloth, he was 
unprepared for Tuvok to make his move. Suddenly he was on his back, with Tuvok--
-almost instantly erect yet again---grinnding his pelvis into Chakotay's. The 
desire, fever, need of pon farr set their link blazing.

Tuvok pressed heavily on muscled shoulders, slitted eyes taking in the rugged 
beauty of the brawny form beneath him. He growled and descended, taking soft 
curved lips hard and ruthlessly. He rubbed their bodies together, feeling his 
mate's legs part and wrap around him. A quick shift of his hips and his cock was 
pressed to the vulnerable opening. He plunged, growling approval even as he 
swallowed the other man's groan.

Chakotay reached up to embrace Tuvok, meeting the deep thrusts, opening himself 
to possession. He ran his palm along the springy locks above Tuvok's nape, his 
fingers then sliding down to caress the long back. He hunched into the sweat-
slick skin of Tuvok's body, urging his mate to lustful abandon but taking care 
to keep control of the mental connection.

This was the crucial moment. If Tuvok resisted Chakotay's lead, then the Vulcan 
could lose the bond to T'Pel and be linked to Chakotay forever. Chakotay kept 
the image of the hearth in his mind---reflecting the fire but not part of it.

Tuvok pressed his mouth to a vein beating wildly in the bronze throat, his teeth 
clenching lightly around it. He shuddered, wanting to bite and tear, to set a 
mark of his possession. But something in his mate's aura held him back, gifting 
him with a moment of clarity. Instead he lifted his head to howl, hands grabbing 
for greater purchase on supple flesh as his movements became even more wild.

Chakotay stared upward, caught in Tuvok's gaze. He grunted with each thrust into 
his ass, his own orgasm building with each jolt against his gland. The pressure 
seemed to come as much from Tuvok as his own core. Either way, he let it carry 
him into the blaze and blur of ecstasy. His cum coated Tuvok's belly and his own 
groin in heavy, heated bursts as he shouted his release.

Tuvok howled again and released his own seed. He seemed to hang suspended a 
moment, then sank onto a broad damp chest. Arms encircled him, holding him close 
as their heartbeats slowed once more.

But not for long. He shifted, sensing his dick fill again within the passage 
still clasping it as the mating cycle continued. He made a low sound of 
satisfaction, his hips moving of their own accord in the ancient dance.

Chakotay moaned in surprise, the bond sparking his body's eager response to the 
stiffening of Tuvok's cock once more within him.

It was going to be a very long night.

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

Tom miserably stared into his beer, wishing it was real---and a little stronger. 
A nice glass of absinthe would give him the oblivion he craved.

He was going back to B'Elanna.

It was not a cause for celebration. He simply didn't see any other option. His 
heart longed for another chance with Chakotay, but Tom just couldn't bring 
himself to risk seeing Chakotay's reaction to his honesty. Because no doubt 
about it, Chakotay wanted all or nothing.

So it would have to be nothing.

Tom sighed. If he hadn't lied to Chakotay in the first place by pretending to be 
something he wasn't, he would never have cheated on his lover---his love.

His one true love, probably. And yet Tom was still going to walk away. Right 
back into B'Elanna's clutches.

Because he wanted his secrets to stay buried.

B'Elanna was willing to ignore his past, and by her very nature she somewhat 
satisfied the needs that had pushed him into her arms in the first place. Urges, 
reawakened by the Srivani, that he could no longer deny.

It was safer this way. Better.

Maybe if he drank enough he'd actually convince himself of that. He snorted, 
wondering why he even bothered to continue lying to himself.

B'Elanna would no doubt be pleased. She'd been subtly stalking him since he'd 
left her cabin in shock the other night.

No one had seen Chakotay or Tuvok since the announcement. Their two-day 
confinement had ended early this morning, but the men were spending some time 
alone, recovering from the experience.

At least according to the Doc's reports, the mating cycle was a success. Tuvok 
was over the pon farr, safe for another seven years. The medical log had noted 
the temporary bond had been concluded "without significant damage to either 
party."

Tom couldn't believe how jealous he was of Tuvok. The Vulcan had gotten closer 
to Chakotay than Tom ever had, ever would. And despite the fact that it was 
Tom's own fault he and Chakotay were no longer together, some part of him still 
regarded the Mystic Warrior as *his* mate.

If only he could get that insistent little voice in his head to shut up. 
Drowning it in alcohol didn't seem to be doing the job.

Maybe, with a big enough dose of tranquilizers, he could put it to sleep.

The problem was, Tom himself wasn't all that keen on waking up again. Not 
anymore.

Tom grunted and took another sip of beer. He might as well go to B'Elanna's 
cabin now and get it over with. Fuck her, and officially mark the start of their 
wonderful, new, fun-filled life together.

Though considering his zero interest in her, he wasn't all that sure he'd even 
be able to get it up in bed with her now that the Srivani weren't pumping him 
full of testosterone.

And he had an awful feeling he'd be seeing someone else entirely in his mind's 
eye when he did.

Good thing B'Elanna wasn't all that picky. As long as she got him, she didn't 
care how.

Or even why.

Ain't love grand? He silently toasted it, not bothering to hide his smirk.

"May I have a moment of your time, Lieutenant?"

Tuvok's voice at his side caused Tom to jump, only his quick reflexes preventing 
him from two dousings in the same week as his drink sloshed over the rim.

"Fuck, Tuvok, what's your problem?" Tom muttered as he put down the mug and 
sopped up the spill with bar napkins.

"It appears that *you* are the one having difficulties. May I sit?" Tuvok barely 
waited for Tom's grudging nod. He'd taken a lot longer convincing himself that 
this was the right step than he'd expected. What seemed so certain, so right, in 
the cold light of logic became something fundamentally different when 
considering the warmth and heat of recent memories.

But in the final equation, there was no reason to hesitate. His future waited 
for him in the Alpha Quadrant.

And perhaps he could make Chakotay's present a little happier. It seemed the 
least he could do.

"So to what do I owe the pleasure?" Tom snarled as he resettled. The sudden 
tension he felt had a lot to do with fighting a fierce urge to punch the 
Vulcan's lights out. Just because.

"There is no need for your current attitude, Mr. Paris---Tom," Tuvok replied 
calmly. "The pon farr is completed. I no longer have any claim upon Chakotay."

Tom's jaw clenched as he gritted, "So you got what you wanted and now it's time 
to move on, huh?" He shot the other man a baleful look. "You here to compare 
notes?"

"I would not violate Chakotay's privacy in that manner---or yours, in point of 
fact." Tuvok acknowledged Tom's surliness, but mentally shrugged and soldiered 
on. "I am here to inform you, in your own colorful vernacular, that you're about 
to make 'the biggest fucking mistake of your life'." He nodded in satisfaction 
at Tom's wide eyes and dropped jaw.

Tom shook off his surprise at hearing the stoic Vulcan curse and sneered. He was 
in no mood to have Chakotay's latest squeeze second-guess his choices. "Oh, 
really."

"Yes." Tuvok's brows drew together a moment as he hesitated, then decided 
bluntness was called for. "Despite the self-flagellation you are currently 
indulging in as part of your melodramatic pose of martyrdom, you are not a 
monster."

"I never said I was." Tom's eyes narrowed in resentment. "Where do you get off 
talking shit like that---did you look into your crystal ball, oh sage of the 
Delta?" He vaguely wondered when Tuvok would get tired of his insubordination, 
then realized he was actually looking forward to a stint in the brig. It would 
delay his trip to B'Elanna's bed, at least for a little while.

"No paranormal trappings were required." Tuvok's brow lifted as he called Tom's 
bluff. "You seem to have forgotten we once shared a mind-meld---I *know* you. 
And all about your...rather unsavory past."

Silence reigned as Tom froze, his eyes widening in horrified realization. He 
*had* forgotten the implications of Tuvok's eavesdropping in his mind---years 
ago, all he'd wanted was an end to the Banean punishment.

The fact that Tuvok had known all about him, all this time...

Tuvok's demeanor softened slightly as he took in Tom's shock. "Chakotay is a 
compassionate person. I do not believe that he will spurn you for your past 
transgressions. And I am certain that your fears are unfounded: he will find a 
way to accept all of you, including your...personal quirks."

Ah, hope was a bittersweet burn in his soul. Tom shook his head in denial of the 
leap his heart took as much as Tuvok's words. "Easy to say, Tuvok. But you're 
not the one who'll suffer the consequences if you're wrong."

Tuvok suppressed a sigh of frustration and tried a new approach. "Why did you 
choose to bed B'Elanna Torres?"

"Because she said she loved me." At Tuvok's disbelieving silence Tom sighed and 
shifted uncomfortably on the barstool. "Because she's so much stronger than I 
am."

"She represents a challenge that you enjoyed...overcoming," Tuvok postulated.

"Yeah." The admission was a tough one, and Tom's head ducked guiltily at the 
evidence that his motives for fucking B'Elanna had been less than pure.

"And you believe if you...express yourself with Chakotay, that will also be the 
case?" Tuvok tilted his head slightly in inquiry.

"Tuvok, you don't get it." Tom turned to him, exasperated. "I already *know* 
what will happen if I top Chakotay. Shit, since I met him I haven't been able to 
get the fantasies out of my head. Why do you think I was playing überbottom with 
the Big Man in the first place? The only way to resist the urges was to 
completely shut down. It's just too tempting. *He's* too tempting."

"You fear you'll lose control?" Tuvok asked carefully.

"I already have!" Tom finally lost his temper. The false hope and Tuvok's 
probing were making a deep wound throb again with fresh pain. "B'Elanna is half-
Klingon---and *she* didn't have an easy time of it, let me tell you."

"But that was at first," Tuvok pointed out. He had confirmed his hypothesis by 
reading the EMH's reports. "When you were constantly denying your own needs and 
the Srivani were subjecting you to hormonal stresses that you wouldn't 
ordinarily face." He asked the question that would seal Chakotay's fate. "Did 
things continue at that level when you were...expressing yourself freely?"

Tom stopped, blinked. His forehead furrowed as he considered his answer, and the 
implications. "No...everything seemed to settle down. We were always going at 
each other, but I wasn't---we weren't---"

"Then why not consider a similar approach with Chakotay? It is a logical 
analogy." Tuvok was disappointed, but not particularly surprised, to see Tom's 
expression harden in rejection once more.

"I can't." Tom swung back to the bar, folding his arms across his chest in 
protection. "Chakotay will want to know everything and I---I just can't."

Tuvok sighed and stood. "That is your decision. But be aware that if you take up 
with B'Elanna without the excuse of alien influence you will have thrown away 
any chance at a relationship with Chakotay. And that, I believe, will be to your 
great detriment."

Tom slanted a knowing look upward. "You really want him for yourself, don't 
you?"

"I...that is irrelevant, since my bond to T'Pel remains intact." Then Tuvok 
decided that he could at least admit this much. "If that were not the case, 
however, then I assure you we would not be having this conversation."

This time hope refused to be suffocated or crushed, drowned or denied. Tom 
paused a moment, then made a last desperate effort to stave off the inevitable. 
"But why would Chakotay even want to try again? Chakotay never looks back."

Tom was surprised at the glimmer of warmth and affection that suddenly lit 
Tuvok's eyes. He realized that the older man was truly making a sacrifice in 
giving up Chakotay to Tom. Then Tuvok's reply caught his attention once more. 
"Technically, that is correct. But consider: he resigned his commission, yet 
wears the uniform of the very organization he rejected. Because it is a 
different relationship. He serves Voyager's crew---not Starfleet."

Tuvok reached out, laying a hand on Tom's shoulder, willing him to understand. 
"You have a chance, Tom, to build a new connection with Chakotay. By letting him 
meet the real Tom Paris, for the first time."

Tom swallowed as Tuvok's gaze turned somber.

Tuvok felt compelled to continue, "At least let him reject you for the truth, 
instead of the false belief that you consider him unworthy of your trust. Your 
love." He paused. "Please."

Dropping his arm, Tuvok exited Sandrine's. He had done all he could; the rest 
was up to Tom and Chakotay. He left Tom sitting silently contemplating his 
choices. And their consequences.

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

The bastard had changed the lock.

After more than three hours of concentrated hacking and cracking and a vow to 
get Chakotay to explain just how he'd secured his quarters so effectively, Tom 
was *finally* in the bedroom. He paused at the foot of the bed, frozen, waiting 
to see if the hiss of the door was enough to wake Chakotay.

It wasn't. The older man still slumbered, the streaking stars lovingly 
highlighting his skin. Chakotay lay mostly on his stomach, face in profile, 
right arm underneath the pillow. The white topsheet had slid down almost to his 
waist, leaving him half-naked.

Tom crept forward and reached out, snagging the bottom of Chakotay's covering. 
He dragged it away very slowly, revealing smooth bronze skin inch by delectable 
inch until his quarry was completely bare.

Tom's mouth dried, then watered. Damn, Chakotay was simply a fucking gorgeous 
man. Broad shoulders and lovely back angling into rounded buttocks and some 
great gams. One muscular leg was shifted upward and bent at the knee. Very 
convenient.

Firmly ignoring the way anxiety gurgled his stomach and squeezed his breath, Tom 
pounced.

Chakotay jolted awake and was firmly pushed into the mattress by a weight 
pinning him down. His left wrist was suddenly gripped and used to twist his arm 
behind his back, and someone's right knee shoved behind his own to spread his 
leg wider. Fingers made their way into the crack of his ass, and a small cold 
oval was firmly shoved into his rectum.

He could identify his assailant by scent, but turned his head to look anyway. 
"What the *fuck* do you think you're doing, Tom?" he growled.

"Exactly," Tom said, a sinister pleasure coloring his tone as he felt Chakotay 
struggle beneath him. He quickly moved his now-empty hand to press on Chakotay's 
right shoulder, keeping him pinned.

He nuzzled at the nape of Chakotay's neck. Then he began exploring the skin 
beneath his lips and rubbed his uniform-covered hard-on against Chakotay's naked 
backside. "How long did the Doc's report say it took for that suppository to 
work? Five minutes? Mmmm...I can barely wait. If I never mentioned it, Chakotay, 
let me say you have one very fine ass."

"Which you showed no interest in whatsoever the whole time we were together," 
Chakotay retorted. He could free himself from his vulnerable position, but not 
without causing Tom considerable damage in the process. "You must be drunk out 
of your mind. Computer," he called, "medical alert."

Tom nipped one shoulder blade, and twisted Chakotay's captured arm a little 
tighter. Just in warning. "Sorry to disappoint you, lover, but I've disabled the 
comm and reinstated that nifty lockout of yours. Nobody's getting in or out of 
here until we have some things settled. So you might as well relax and enjoy the 
ride."

"Get the hell off me and out of my quarters---*now*," Chakotay demanded angrily. 
He couldn't believe that Tom was pulling such a crazy stunt. He tried to ignore 
the tantalizing brush of Tom's clothes against his skin, reminding himself that 
Tom was better off with B'Elanna. Really.

"Not a chance, babe." Tom said as he ground them both into the mattress, then 
held still. He laid his cheek against Chakotay's, his voice serious. "You said 
you wanted the real me. Well here I am, up-close and personal."

Chakotay relaxed enough to ease the strain on his arm. He could feel the tension 
in the younger man's body even through the uniform. "What do you mean, Tom?"

"Fuck," Tom swore suddenly, his whole body clenching in protest as he prepared 
to spill his guts. This was as hard as he expected. He wished he *was* drunk. 
Then he wouldn't have to remember. "Fuck, Chakotay, Tuvok had better be right 
about you."

He squeezed his eyes shut, preferring the darkness. "It's such a pretty little 
tale. When I got kicked out of Starfleet I had nothing. My pay and regular 
accounts were confiscated as part of the terms of my dismissal and the admiral--
-dear old dad---froze my trust-fund moneey. And nobody wanted to know me, much 
less lend me hard currency. I barely scraped together enough cash for the 
transport ticket out to the frontier."

"I heard you were scrounging around for a while before you found the Maquis," 
Chakotay said, not understanding the setting for Tom's confession but willing to 
listen to it. His brief liaison with Tuvok had reminded him just how much he 
wanted a bond with Tom. Honestly, he couldn't bring himself to tell Tom to go 
back to B'Elanna. Not while there was still a chance...but his attention 
returned to Tom as the younger man continued.

"Yeah. Not even garbage-scow skippers would hire me. But I found a way to get 
by." Tom swallowed. "I---well, this guy he---he approached me in a bar. Said I 
was just what he was looking for." He snorted. "I told him that my ass wasn't on 
the auction block and he could go fuck himself. But it turned out he wasn't 
interested in that particular service."

Tom unconsciously nestled closer to Chakotay's warmth as his own flesh chilled 
at the memories. "What he wanted was a cock for sale, attached to a particular 
type of guy. To satisfy a very special kind of client."

Chakotay stayed silent, sensing Tom's struggle to speak.

The bile surged into the back of Tom's throat, but he kept going. "He---it 
turned out that there were women---a couple guys, too---who got off on the idea 
of being...raped. So I'd get an appointment---time, place, target---and I 
would...I would force myself on them. Use them. Treat them like scum, like 
whores I'd decided to teach a lesson."

Tom could feel Chakotay's body go still beneath him as the other man absorbed 
the information. His own self-loathing strangled his voice. "The first time I 
did it I kept waiting for the gal to start screaming for security. But she 
didn't. And she was wet and ready for me when I finally got enough of her 
clothes off to do it. Chakotay---shit, I don't know how to explain it. But I 
guess I figured I was a murderer and a cheat and a liar already, so why not just 
add pervert to the list. Besides, it was good money and I needed the cash 
for...necessities."

"To feed your habits, you mean," Chakotay corrected, his tone oddly mild.

"Yeah, I guess." Tom ignored the dampness of his eyes, his hitching breath. "I 
should have figured I had enough addictions, though. 'Cause after I got a taste 
of it, I kept going back for more. I *liked* having them struggle underneath me. 
Liked forcing my dick in their mouth or their cunt or their ass. It made me 
feel...powerful. King of the fucking world when the truth was I was just another 
piece of shit floating in the bowl."

"Did Ro know about this when she recruited you?" Chakotay managed to make 
himself ask. He was stunned, his mind a blank as he tried to reconcile the Tom 
Paris he thought he knew with the man who had apparently been even more deeply 
involved in the seedy underbelly of life in the DMZ than anyone ever suspected.

"Nah, I managed to keep that little vice quiet. Hell, none of my 'victims' was 
likely to say anything. But, you should know---" Tom knew he was risking 
everything, but he had to lay it all on the line. Chakotay probably already 
despised him, but he was going to tell the whole sordid story. He had to, now. 
He'd gone too far not to finish the journey. "---if you hadn't hired me I would 
probably have gone over the edge. I enjoyed it too much. By the end I wasn't all 
too concerned if they really wanted it or not."

His laugh was a sharp-edged, bitter thing. "I would have ended up in a place 
like Auckland anyway. For rape."

The men were quiet for a long time, just the sound of their breaths adding tempo 
to the underlying hum of ship.

Tom opened his eyes, staring into the dimness, waiting for Chakotay to pronounce 
sentence.

Chakotay felt a drop, tear or sweat, land on his cheek. He sighed. He had no 
right to sit in judgement of Tom or anyone else. Nobody's hands stayed clean in 
the Maquis. He'd lost his own innocence long before. "This was all years ago, 
Tom. What does it have to do with why you're here tonight? Or the bottom-boy act 
you were pulling before?"

"Chakotay, don't you get it?" Tom raised his head and shifted his legs slightly 
so his boots pressed against vulnerable bronze calves. "*This* is what I used to 
do: force myself on people." His voice rose. "I still want to---*need* to do 
that---but not with everyone. When the Maquis picked me up I went cold turkey on 
everything, including this. I realized that I didn't get the urge unless I was 
with somebody who was strong---somebody I wanted to conquer."

Tom chuckled grimly, "Why do you think I would go for those sweet little lambs 
like Gerron and Kes---they were safe." He sighed. "And then I had a chance to be 
with you. It was like giving an alcoholic keys to the liquor cabinet. I've 
wanted to do you---and I mean *do* you---since we met. But you've also got this 
whole nobility thing going on, Chakotay. I've had tons of wet dreams about you, 
but I also didn't like the thought of dragging you down to my level."

Another bitter laugh. "Or losing you after you got disgusted with me. It was all 
I could do to keep my hands off you---I couldn't stay the night, couldn't argue, 
couldn't joke, couldn't do anything except lay there and hope things would get 
better."

"But they didn't," Chakotay said.

"No, they sure as hell didn't." Tom's forehead wrinkled as he remembered. "I 
guess the Srivani must have started on me then, because the...urges kept getting 
harder and harder to fight. I thought I was going to explode out of my skin. I 
was desperate."

Chakotay tensed up again as he grated, "So you fucked B'Elanna."

"Yeah, damn straight I did," Tom admitted baldly. "I knew she could take 
whatever I dished out, and in that first week I jumped her every chance I could 
get. And she fought me every time---I think it's the Klingon in her, she won't 
go down without a fight."

"So you were getting a daily fix and didn't have to do the sack of flour routine 
with me anymore," Chakotay said, sudden anger surging through him. He heaved his 
body, trying to chuck Tom off---throw his ex-lover out and forget that he 
obviously wasn't what Tom needed. "Just get the hell out of here and I won't 
breathe a word of this to B'Elanna. You're obviously well-suited for each 
other."

"No!" Tom gave a desperate shove and smashed them both back onto the mattress, 
knocking the breath from them both. His fingers gripped Chakotay's wrist and 
shoulder tightly, instinctively, holding on for dear life.

"No, Chakotay." He forced their heads back down to the pillow, laying his cheek 
against the older man's once more. "I can't go back to her. When the Srivani 
were gone I remembered what it meant to be with you---how you cherish me with 
just a smile, or the way you say my name, the tenderness in your eyes when you 
enter me. Chakotay, yours is the most loving touch I've ever known. Don't take 
that away from me because I need a fix once in a while."

Chakotay closed his eyes, wishing his hands were free to rub them. He didn't 
know what to do. Yes, he loved Tom. Even knowing about his past didn't change 
that. In a way, Tom's confession cemented the feelings, because now he knew that 
Tom *did* trust him.

But could Chakotay trust Tom as well? Could he be what Tom needed? The younger 
man had some pretty strange kinks. But Chakotay had to admit it was...exciting 
to know Tom wanted him so much. And kind of erotic to be naked while his lover 
stayed dressed. Still, he tested Tom's grip, seeing if his captor had slacked 
his hold enough to get free.

And was surprised when Tom moaned and pushed against him again, clearly excited 
by his resistance. What shocked him more was the way his own arousal spiked at 
the struggle.

Maybe...maybe he *could* give Tom that "fix". If nothing else, he had to try, 
because he didn't think he had the strength to push Tom out of his life once 
again. "What do you mean, Tom? Just what kind of scene are you into?"

Tom's heart leapt again at the question---and his cock did too, pushing 
painfully against his trousers. His voice was husky as he hastily spun one of 
his favorite fantasies. "Maybe you're the last person in Sandrine's one night 
and she warns you to get home because there's a curfew and you don't want to get 
caught wandering the streets of Marseilles. But you decide to walk home, and you 
just happen to cross paths with a young blond gendarme. He doesn't like the look 
of you---or maybe he does, too well---so he cuffs you and hauls you in on 
suspicion."

Tom reached down quickly to open his trousers and free his cock, which was hard 
as duranium and dripping with need. He shivered at the touch of cool air and 
Chakotay's heated skin. He wiped his sweaty forehead on Chakotay's back, then 
continued, "There's nobody at the station except one bored old sergeant asleep 
at the desk. The blond cop hauls you back to the cells---they've got the old-
fashioned iron bars---for interrogation. He doesn't like your sass so he opens 
the cuffs and orders a strip search. When he pulls his gun you comply."

They were both breathing a little heavily now, but Tom could still feel Chakotay 
shifting slightly, seeking a way out. He pressed his boots against Chakotay's 
legs again in warning. "He figures a cavity search will teach you some respect. 
So he gets another set of cuffs and stretches your arms out and locks them to 
the bars. Then he snaps on the glove and grabs the lube and makes sure you have 
nothing to hide. But you still give him lip so he decides it's time for some 
discipline. He uses his baton to open up your ass. Then I---*he*---walks around 
to the other side of the bars and yanks you down to your knees. He puts a hand 
on the back of your head and forces you to deep-throat him---and swallow every 
drop when he comes."

Tom stroked the satiny skin beneath his right hand, his hips unconsciously 
pulsing forward, knowing it wouldn't be long now. "Then he comes back around 
behind you and hauls you up again. He plays with you---teasing you the way your 
hot bod and smart mouth teased him all night---until he's hard again. Then he 
pulls out the baton and fucks you so hard you almost go through the bars. And 
after you start begging I finally reach through the bars and grab your cock to 
bring you off and we both scream so loud we wake up the sergeant."

Chakotay grated, "Sounds like you're just looking for a fuck toy." That bothered 
him, even though he was breathing hard now too, more turned on than he expected.

"Oh no, Chakotay, I'm looking for a playmate." Tom leaned close, rubbing his 
face in soft black hair, whispering in Chakotay's ear. "And please believe that 
I want the chance to adore you, worship your body the way you've done mine. But 
I'm definitely looking for some game time as well. Say I'm walking down a 
corridor at the bottom of the ship---you know, the ones where the power's down 
and the lights are dim. I turn the corner and suddenly you're there. You don't 
say a word and when I tell you no you put your hand over my mouth to shut me up 
as you shove me flat into the bulkhead. Next thing I know my pants are around my 
ankles and your cock is shoved so deep in my ass I can feel it at the back of my 
throat. You bang the hell out of me, and when you're done you just pull out and 
walk away, leaving me bare-assed in the hallway, shuddering with the 
aftershocks, your cum and mine trickling down my thighs."

"So what are you saying, no doesn't mean no?" Chakotay said as he bucked 
suddenly.

Tom scrambled to pin him down again, pressing him deep into the mattress and 
nipping him hard behind the ear before licking the spot. "That's right. But if 
you really want me to stop you could just say you have a headache."

"As in 'Not tonight, honey'---screw that and screw you. Keep your hands---and 
your dick---to yourself, mister." Chakotay moved again, then gasped as he felt 
Tom's cock plunge hilt-deep into his ass. He bit his lip to hold back the moan 
at the welcome fullness, then started spitting curses at Tom, chewing him out 
for assaulting a fellow officer.

Tom groaned as Chakotay started to play the game in earnest. He had to work to 
keep his dick in its hot, satiny heaven as Chakotay kept trying to throw him 
off. For one horrible second he thought maybe he had read the situation wrong 
and Chakotay really was rejecting him, but then he felt Chakotay's opening 
clench around him, squeezing, making it as hard to pull out as it had been to 
get in.

He threw himself into the fantasy, riding his captive relentlessly, hearing 
Chakotay's groans mixed with muttered threats of reprisal. He pounded out his 
joy, his love, his lust, his need into his mate's tight golden-brown ass. He 
licked the sweat from Chakotay's back, biting when Chakotay's struggles knocked 
him off his rhythm. He hoped Chakotay's regenerator was fully charged---he 
didn't want anything to permanently mar the smooth tawny surface.

Chakotay was seeking his own release as Tom's battering of his gland took him 
higher and higher. He rubbed his engorged cock into the sheets, wishing he could 
get a hand free. But then Tom bit him again and he growled as his orgasm hit, 
blinding him with the intense pleasure that raged through him.

Tom screamed as the pressure on his cock and balls finally gave way. He thrust 
deep, his cum shooting out of him in near-painful bursts for what seemed like an 
eternity of white-hot ecstasy. It had *never* been like this. He collapsed 
against Chakotay's back, releasing his lover's arm and raining kisses on the red 
marks staining Chakotay's neck and shoulders. "I love you, Chakotay," he 
whispered.

"I guess I love you too, sick twisted puppy that you are," Chakotay replied and 
rolled over. "You do realize that now that you've corrupted me I'm never letting 
you go---I'll need my 'fix' as well." He suddenly grabbed his kinky blond by the 
scruff of the neck and shook him. "But you damn well better *never* wear boots 
to bed again."

Tom just grinned and kissed him.

THE END