Reed's Armory -- A Malcolm Reed Fanfiction Archive ..

Title: Not Alone

Author: Mareel

Author's e-mail: [email protected]

Author's Web site: http://www.geocities.com/bdebpr

Fandom: Enterprise

Pairing: Archer/Reed

Rating: NC-17

Category: Slash

Summary: Bridging the distance when Jonathan and Malcolm are apart.

Comments: This is a stand-alone ficlet, established relationship, from Mal's POV, in some respects. My thanks to evilleaper for her encouragement to write more of what Jon and Mal keep telling me about.

Archived to Reed's Armory on 04/14/2008.

This shift has been endless. Actually, this whole week has been endless. I've been passing the time by recalibrating the already well-attuned torpedo targeting sensors, telling my staff that it is important to be prepared for any unexpected situations that Enterprise might encounter in the absence of her captain. I tell myself that as well, but the truth is that Jonathan has been gone for over a week and I need to keep my hands and mind occupied until his safe return.

Still it's hard to keep my mind from wandering a bit, recalling moments we've shared, remembering the way my hands never lacked for purposeful occupation when we found ourselves alone together. Nor did his.

The soft beep of a comm signal immediately pulls my attention back to the moment, all the more so because the code is Jonathan's. It's not the official Starfleet code that would indicate that Captain Archer was messaging his armoury office. I received such a message a few hours ago, with an update on his mission and his comments on a weapons security upgrade proposal that he'd just reviewed.

I'm very curious about this message though. He has seldom used our private code -- I had insisted once that we set one up, back when our relationship was new and we were both very worried about anyone learning about it. In fact the only time I recall his using it was to send me an almost generic birthday card as a test of the system.

Even more curiously, this message contains an attached audio file. The written communication is brief and not even especially personal. He simply reassures me that he's fine and his mission is going well. Then he directs me very explicitly NOT to open the audio file until I'm alone in our quarters tonight.

"... I know I can trust you, Malcolm, to wait until this evening to open the file. It would be best if you were alone when you do, so please indulge me on this one, love. It's not bad news, so no fears on that account. It's just a bit... personal."

He knows me too well, both in knowing I'd fret about it and in his confidence that I'll do as he asks. That doesn't stop me from wondering about it for the rest of the afternoon, rather like a child with a gift-wrapped package that must not be opened before Christmas. Actually, that's a poor analogy... as my sister would attest, I always opened whatever packages I managed to find, and resealed them after satisfying my curiosity. I doubt my parents were ever any the wiser. But this is more important to me than any childhood gift.

So I wait. The endless shift finally does end, and I manage to avoid any dinner companionship or conversations that would delay returning to my quarters. It's remarkable, really, how few people are willing to disturb me at my favourite back table in the mess hall once I've littered it with enough PADDs to nearly obscure my dinner tray. Jonathan would have -- and did so on more than one occasion when he was trying to court me, brazenly disregarding my glare and near-rudeness that were intended to put him off. I wasn't sure what he wanted at the time, but I knew very well that he was a man I would never be able to say 'no' to, were he to ask anything of me. All I could do was try to prevent the asking.

Fortunately that failed with Jonathan. He is as persistent a man as I've ever known, thank god. I'm not an easy person to even have dinner with, much less to live with... or to love. That he loves me is still amazing. I've no idea what might have attracted him to me, but from the moment I let him in, I've known that he does. And that I love him.

Finally back in quarters. The door closes behind me, and I take a few minutes to greet an eager Porthos and take care of his dinner requests... including a special cheese treat that I make him promise will be our little secret. Jon's message is waiting on my desktop and I settle in front of the screen to reread it, hoping to hear his voice this time. I'm not disappointed as the file opens and he greets me, his voice warm and welcoming... more than that, it's low and throaty, almost seductive...

______________________________________________

"My Malcolm, I can't be there with you tonight, but I wanted to feel close to you and wanted you to know you're in my thoughts, and in my heart. I'm missing you, love. If I were there with you, I'd gather you in my arms and hold you very tightly. We'd settle on the couch with a glass of wine... which we'd probably never finish, since it usually tastes best when we share the flavor in a kiss... and then another. And we both know where that would lead.

"I miss those evenings and nights with you. When I lie down on the bed here, it's cold and empty. The only way to fill it is with my memories and thoughts of you.

"Since I can't make love to you in person tonight, let me tell you what I would be doing if I could. I suggest putting this message on low audio, and turning the lights down. Let my voice and the darkness envelop you in the way I'd like to wrap you in my arms.

"You'll need to help me undress you, love... slowly. Let me take my time and look at you, touch you. You'll have to be my hands tonight, Malcolm. Unzip your jumpsuit and let it slip off your shoulders and arms so that it falls around your waist. Now slowly unbutton your shirt from the neck down... let your fingers slip under the cloth to touch your warm skin. Then slide both hands up under the shirt, up across your stomach and chest, and if you brush your fingertips across your nipples, linger there a moment as they harden. Take off the shirt and drop it to the floor by your feet.

"Oh god, I love you like that -- bare-chested in the low light, your uniform hanging loosely around your hips. Glance down, love. Is the fabric tented yet? It usually is by now, as your cock aches to be freed. Don't touch yourself yet... let it build. You know I love to tease you, to take my time until I feel you molding your body against me, silently urging me to finish what I've started.

"I'm sure you're getting hard, love. And if I were there, I'd feel the heat in your groin against mine and know exactly how to kiss you to make you even harder. I'd feel your mouth open beneath mine as my tongue wets your lips and slips between them, while my hands slide down your bare back, pushing beneath the rest of your clothing so I can cup your ass.

"Do you have any idea how perfect an ass you have? You must know how well you fill my two hands as I caress and knead and squeeze. But I don't know if you're aware that the way you tremble as my fingertips trace the cleft between your cheeks makes me hard as hell -- like I am now, just remembering.

"Go ahead now, love... push the uniform down over your hips and let it pool around your ankles. Hook your fingertips under the waist of your briefs and feel the heat there. But before you lift them off over your cock, reach down and cup yourself thru the fabric. Squeeze a little, then let the heel of your palm drag over your cock as you bring that hand back up to the waist to tug off those briefs. You moan when I do that... at my first touch to your cock. It always sounds like it's what you've wanted most in the world. I have no words to tell you how that makes me feel... aroused, wanted, needed... and aching for you.

"Look down at yourself, my beautiful Malcolm. This moment is one I love, my first sight of you, standing there in front of me, nearly naked and so obviously ready for me. Sometimes all I can do is to drop to my knees right there and take you into my mouth, taste the drops that are already forming on the head of your hard cock, lick and suck you till your knees are weak and you beg to move to the bed. You grip my shoulders with both hands and spread your legs a little apart, widening your stance, trying to steady yourself on your feet, the effect being to offer me more of yourself. I cup those heavy balls in my hands as I keep sucking you, feeling you tighten just before you cry out and come in my mouth. Then I slip my arms around your hips and catch you as you sink down toward me, and I hold you for a few moments before we stand and finally do move to the bed.

"One night I lifted you in my arms and carried you there, laying you naked across the deep blue sheets... what a fucking gorgeous sight you were. I'll never forget it. But not tonight.

"Tonight, simply step out of the rest of your clothing and lie down on the bed. On your back, love... go ahead and bend your knees a bit as you spread your legs enough to be comfortable. The way you look at me as you lie there offering yourself, just waiting for me to take you... god, Malcolm, I want you so much.

"I can close my eyes and see you now... your face is flushed, your eyes dark with need. Move your hands slowly down your chest, love. Take a nipple between your fingers and roll and pinch it; then brush your fingertips lightly over the other one, circling it slowly, teasing till it's hard and reddened and sensitive. Now very slowly slide your hand down over your stomach... all the way down to the base of your cock... let your fingers tangle in that dark hair but don't touch your erection yet. Look at yourself, love... you should be so hard by now, your cock dark and thick, the tip glistening wet.

"I know you're aching to be touched... now be my hands, love. You taught me how you love being touched, all the little things that push you even closer to the edge, without quite losing your control. Trust me now, I want this to last, want to touch you everywhere first.

"Very slowly now, draw one fingertip up the underside of your cock... and circle beneath the rim of the head. I love the way I can feel your pulse in that big vein, you feel so alive beneath my touch. Go ahead and rub your thumb over the head... brush across the slit and spread the wetness, love. But no stroking, not yet. Think of me... remember how I do that with my fingers or my tongue... it always makes you tremble a little. And that makes me harder than ever and wanting nothing more than to be inside you.

"Now reach lower, love... cup your balls for a moment, caress them gently, as a promise of more to come. Then reach over and grab the lube from the nightstand; you won't need much, just enough to slick a couple of fingers. Shift a little on the bed so that you can reach your ass. Spread your cheeks and rub your slick fingers around your entrance. I want you to remember how it feels when I stretch you open. As you slip your finger in, feel how tight your ass is around it... and imagine how that tightness feels around my cock. God, Malcolm, you are so hot and tight! I love that moment when I know you're stretched enough that I can press my cock against your ass and push inside in one slow stroke. The look on your face is amazing. I'm part of you then... and you're part of me. Add another finger and move both fingers a bit, love. You can wrap your other hand around your cock now if you're ready; I know you can't wait much longer. It's okay to let your fingers slip out of your ass; I just wanted you to feel full for a moment.

"Stroke yourself, Malcolm... start as slowly as you can manage. Touch yourself everywhere, in any way that feels good to you. I just wish I could be there to fill you and kiss you as you get closer and closer to the edge. Faster now, love. I know you like it fast and hard at this point. Let go now. Rock your hips upward and thrust into your hand... remember the times I rode you and the way you thrust into my ass as I straddled you. Oh god, you were incredible that way... filling me completely... feeling you come inside me, your whole body shuddering and trembling. Hearing you cry my name as you come will never get old for me... to think of how long I waited to hear you call me 'Jon' at all, much less with so much passion.

"Come for me now, love... come hard! I know you're so close. Won't take you long now. A few more strokes. Ahhh, Malcolm, yes! Feel the way your cock pulses as it covers your hand and stomach in wet heat. Keep pumping your cock until it passes, until the last waves of your orgasm wash over you.

"But don't let go yet, love... leave your hand cradling your cock as it softens. I love that moment too, when your eyes are a little glazed and the bliss is still written on your face. Holding you in my hand afterward is so much a part of making love to you... knowing you're feeling the way you do because you love me, that I could make you feel like that.

"You're everything to me, Malcolm... all I'll ever need or want. I love you so much.

"I wish I could be there to gently clean you up then fall asleep beside you with your head pillowed on my shoulder and your arm wrapped around me. I'd love to stroke your damp hair back from your forehead and kiss you softly as you drift into sleep.

"Goodnight, love. Sleep now, and dream of us; I'm going to do the same as soon as I send this."

______________________________________________

I must have done as he suggested. I just woke up and had to check the comm unit to make sure there really was a file and that I didn't dream the whole thing. But it's there; it was real. And it was amazing.

I'm already planning a response for him. I don't have his way with words and descriptions, but I'd like to try to make him feel the way I did last night... sexy, cherished, and very much not alone. I want to surprise him as he did me, and somehow manage to take his breath away from afar.

I have all day to plan his evening; I'd better get started thinking about it. And I know my shift is going to seem endless.