The smile was immediately wiped off of Trip's face.  He stiffened, and started to pull away.  "Sorry," he said tightly, his voice a combination of anger and hurt.  "Didn't mean to bother you."

Archer refused to let him go.  "Wait."

"What for?  You've made it pretty clear what you want.  Or don't want, I should say."

Archer still maintained his grip.  "I haven't finished."

Trip looked away.  "Do you mind letting me go?  I've already made a fool out of myself.  I'd like to leave."

"No you haven't.  And I don't want you to leave.  You're jumping the gun again, Trip."

Trip looked at him, the hurt evident in his eyes.  "I heard what you said.  You don't want to have sex with me."

"I did say that."  At this, Trip tried to pull away again, but Archer held him firmly.  "And I don't want to fuck you either, Trip." 

"Then there's nothing more to say, is there?  Please let me go."

Instead, Archer pulled him close.  "What I do want," he said gently, "is to make love to you."  He smiled at the look of astonishment on the younger man's face.

"Oh," said Trip in a small voice.  "Oh," he repeated again.

Archer laughed and kissed him.  Then he sobered.  "Trip.  I want you to try and help you remember what it's supposed to be all about.  Will you let me do that, Trip?  Will you let me make love to you?"

Trip smiled.  "I'd like that, Jon.  I really would."

"Will you let me take charge?"

Trip was silent.  "It's your choice," Archer told him.  "You're going to have to give me permission, Trip.  I won't do anything – not even kiss you – without it.  And if you become uncomfortable, just say the word and we'll stop."

Trip looked at him, and suddenly his expression was shy and vulnerable.  "I appreciate that, Jon.  It's all sort of new to me.  Well, I mean, not new, but ..."  He trailed off.

Archer laughed, and kissed him on the tip of that wonderful ski-slope nose.  "You're not the only one, you know.  I guess we'll just have to figure things out together.  Okay?"

"Sounds good to me.  Okay."

Archer held him tight.  Trip surrendered, laying his head on Archer's chest.  The Captain stroked his back, and they lay together in a comfortable, companionable silence.

After a few minutes, Trip stirred.  "Not that I'm complaining or anything, but ..."

"But what?"  Archer was definitely teasing him now.

"Is this it?  Is this all you want to do?"

"No.  But good things come to those who wait, Commander."

"Oh, well, thanks.  Yet more words of wisdom from Captain Jonathon Archer."

"You lipping off to me?"

"What do you think?"

"I think I'd better shut you up."

"Think you can?"

"I'm going to sure as hell try."  And he kissed Trip.  But not quite as gently as before.  Trip sighed, squirmed slightly in his embrace. 

When Archer broke the kiss off, Trip shifted again.  "Kind of close quarters here," he observed.

"Think you'd be more comfortable elsewhere?"

"Wouldn't you?"

"What do you have in mind?  The floor?  My desk?  Your desk?  The shower?" 

Trip gave him an impudent smile.  "Maybe later," he said, enjoying the slight look of surprise on Archer's face.  "But I was thinking of something just a little more conventional."  He grinned and added, "To start with, anyhow."

"Oh?  Define 'conventional'."

Trip gave an exaggerated sigh.  "The bed.  Jesus, Jon ..."

Archer kissed him again, then smiled.  "You're just an old-fashioned kind of guy, aren't you?"

Trip grinned again.  "Guilty as charged."

Archer smiled.  "OK.  If you insist."  He rose, and taking Trip by the hand, led him over to their bed.  They stood a moment, facing each other.  "You sure?" Archer asked again.

For an answer, Trip leaned in and kissed him again.  They stood together, swaying slightly, arms around each other.  Only a short while ago, Archer would have never considered such a scenario either desirable or possible.  And yet now, it seemed like they'd been together like this forever, and he couldn't imagine not wanting to be with Trip.

Archer broke off the kiss, and suddenly laughed.  Trip looked around, momentarily confused, and then saw the reason for the Captain's mirth.  Porthos was sitting at their feet, head cocked, watching them both intently.

Trip shrugged.  "What the hell," he said.  "It's not like I've never had an audience before."

Archer laughed again.  What would he do without Trip in his life?  He had had a taste of it when the engineer had gone missing all those months ago, and he had no intention of ever going through that again.

Gently, he pushed the younger man onto the bed.  Trip lay back, stared up at him, breathing a little faster than usual.  Archer identified the reason for this as combined excitement and nervousness.

Archer peeled his own shirt off, then sat on the bedside.  He stroked Trip's hair.  "You okay?"

Trip nodded.  "Yeah.  A little nervous, I guess, but I'm okay."

"Remember – any time it gets to be too much for you, we'll stop.  That's a promise.  No pressure, Trip."

"I appreciate that.  But what about you, Jon?"

Archer smiled.  "Trip.  Tonight?  It's for you, okay?  Only for you.  So I don't want you to worry about me."

"I wasn't raised to be selfish."

"How is letting me love you being selfish, Trip?  Not letting me, on the other hand ... "

Trip was still unconvinced.  "Seems awful one-sided.  And you've already done so much for me."

Archer bent, kissed him.  "Trip.  Trust me.  I don't mind.  Really.  And when you're ready, you can make it up to me.  But tonight?  I really want to do this.  I really want to make love to you, Trip.  To give you some pleasure.  Please let me."

"Okay," Trip said reluctantly.  "As long as you let me repay the favor."

"When you're ready, I'll collect it from you.  With interest.  That's a promise."

Trip looked at him, his eyes wide and soft.  "All right."  And he moved over to make room.

Archer lay down beside him, smiled.  "Hi."

"Hi yourself."

"Come here often?"

Trip laughed.  "Not really."  He lowered his voice.  "In case you haven't noticed, it's kind of a low-class crowd around here."

"Then you fit right in."

Trip laughed again.  He was starting to relax, which was what Archer was hoping for.  The Captain propped himself up on one elbow, ran a gentle hand along Trip's jaw and down along the lines of his throat. Trip swallowed and sighed.  Archer then bent, and began bestowing soft kisses along the same path his hand had just traversed.  Trip sighed again, a little louder this time, and shifted slightly.

"You like?"

"Mmm."

"More?"

"Please."

Archer smiled, began working his way back up Trip's neck.  He blew gently in Trip's ear, and the younger man shivered – but with pleasure.  Archer kissed him again, allowing his hands to run up and down Trip's sides as he did.

He broke off the kiss, smiled at the engineer.  It's time for this," and he pulled slightly on Trip's pajama top, "to come off."  And slowly, teasingly, he began to undo the buttons, kissing each new bit of flesh that was revealed.  Trip sighed once more, and closed his eyes as Archer continued.

The older man slipped the top off, tossed it aside.  "You won't be needing that."  Before Trip could respond, he bent his head again, ran his tongue over Trip's nipples; first one, then the other.  While his lips and tongue were busy exploring the salty sweetness he found there, his hands were running lightly over Trip's sides, his ribs and stomach.  Trip arched his back very slightly and let out a soft moan.  Hearing that, Archer was satisfied that things were going the way he hoped for.  He continued to tease the younger man, stimulating his nipples and running his hands gently along the soft, smooth skin of the engineer's slender torso.

Trip opened his eyes, stared up at the ceiling.  He felt as if he were floating, lost in a soft, sensual haze of pleasure.  He could feel Jon's lips on him, and those large but gentle hands caressing him, all working together to create Jon's own particular brand of magic.  Now Jon was working his way down his stomach, lightly brushing him with his lips and tickling him with his tongue.

For the first time in what seemed like forever, Trip felt himself responding of his own volition and not due to some damned aphrodisiac oil.  He lifted his hips slightly and moaned in response.

"Feels good?" Jon asked him.

"That's an understatement," he whispered in reply.  He watched as Jon slowly, lazily, peeled his bottoms off, leaving him clad only in his briefs.  Jon also shucked his own pants off, and they joined Trip's in an ever-growing pile on the floor.

Jon gently slipped a hand between Trip's legs, and obligingly, Trip spread them.  He closed his eyes as he felt his lover's lips on the inside of his thighs, while his hands continued to stroke, caress and tease. 

Archer worked his way down Trip's legs and then back up again.  Trip whimpered and arched his back.  Archer smiled, then returned his attention to Trip's stomach and nipples.

He put his hands on the waistband of Trip's briefs.  Trip moaned again, shifted his hips.  Archer pulled the briefs down to the level of Trip's groin, then teasingly stopped, refusing to free his lover's increasingly stimulated sex.  Trip moaned in frustration.

"Wait," Archer told him.  He lay beside Trip, pulled him close, so that Trip was lying on his side.  Face-to-face.  He began to kiss his younger lover;  deep, passionate, lasting kisses.  Trip responded enthusiastically, and Archer could feel himself stir.  He was afraid this might frighten Trip off, but instead Trip tightened his arms around him and pressed himself up against Archer.

Trip trembled; not with fear but due to sensory overload.  Jon's hands were running lightly up and down his back, dipping down to lightly brush across his half-exposed butt and back up again.  Trip shivered once more, and Jon broke off the kiss.

"You okay?" he asked.  "I can stop."

"If you do, then I won't be okay," Trip replied hoarsely. 

"You sure?"

"Goddammit, Jon," Trip began.  Archer laughed and silenced him in the best possible way:  he kissed him.

He continued in this for quite some time until Trip was moaning and squirming under his touch.

"Oh, God, Jon – please!  You're killing me!"

Archer's natural inclination would be to tease Trip a little more, maybe even ask him if he should stop.  But that scenario was just a little too close to what had happened on Tasumi.  He kissed Trip again.  "I certainly don't want to do that.  Be too much of a good thing."

Trip was beyond witty repartee.  He whimpered, deep in his throat.  "Jon.  Please."

Archer took pity on him.  Slowly, very slowly, he removed Trip's briefs, threw them on the floor.  He kept his own on; he had meant what he had said about this evening being only for Trip.

Trip sighed as his sex was finally freed from the restrictions his clothing had placed on him.  His sigh turned into a moan when Jon took him in hand, so to speak.

"Lie back and relax," he heard Jon say.  He lay back, but it was doubtful he would be able to relax.  He stared at the ceiling, trembling, his heart thudding wildly.  Jon squeezed him, very lightly, and he whimpered again.  Slowly, his lover began to stroke him.  Trip could feel his toes curling in response, and he arched his back.

He gasped as Jon took him into his mouth, began alternatively sucking, nibbling and teasing his erect, aching shaft.  Jon took his time; he deliberately kept his attentions slow and measured. 

Trip whimpered again.  The pleasure was growing, slowly but inexorably.  It was a rising tide, and he was being helplessly swept along, unable and unwilling to stop it from taking him where it would.

He groaned.  It was rising within him, climbing higher, higher and still higher yet.  He was trying to hold on, but his need for release was very great.

"Don't hold back, Trip," he heard Jon say.  "Let yourself go."

He moaned in response, and felt Jon begin to work on him in earnest.  He arched his back; he was rapidly approaching the point of no return.  The pleasure was intense now, it was reaching for a peak, higher now, still higher.  How much more could it rise?  It was coming; he was coming, and all he was aware of, all he could think of, all he knew was the pleasure and his need for release.

And at last, the trails within him climbed, crossed and finally met in an internal explosion of ecstasy.  He stiffened, arched upwards and cried out softly. 

Slowly, he collapsed back down onto the bed.  "Oh, God," he moaned.  "I think I died and went to heaven."  He opened his eyes and there was Jon, smiling at him. 

"You're not dead yet," his lover informed him.  He leaned forward, kissed him.  Trip could taste himself on Jon's lips, and the thought of it made him moan again.

"Good?" Jon asked.

Trip sighed.  "Do you have to ask?"

Jon took him in his arms.  "You know what they told us at the Academy – never take anything for granted, Commander."

"Well, Captain, in that case I would say you've achieved your mission objective."

"Successfully?"

"Oh, without a doubt."

Jon laughed and kissed him.  Trip broke off the kiss, looked worriedly at his lover.  "But it couldn't have done much for you, though."

"Still having problems with your short-term memory, Trip?"

"Huh?"

Jon began to caress his back.  "Remember what I said?  Tonight is just for you, Trip."

Trip frowned.  "That still doesn't sit well with me, Jon."

His lover disagreed.  "But it's fine with me, Trip."  And he was kissed again.  Trip murmured, shifted slightly.  Jon ran his hand lightly down his chest and across his stomach. 

He sighed.  "Feels good."

Jon did not answer.  Trip opened his eyes.  Jon was looking down, his expression a mixture of surprise and pleasure.  Trip already knew what he was seeing, but he followed Jon's gaze to see that he was becoming erect once again.

He smiled and shrugged.  "Sorry.  Force of habit."

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