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

Title: Appetiser

Author: Sue Christian

Author's e-mail: [email protected]

Fandom: Enterprise

Pairing: Tucker/Reed

Rating: NC-17

Category: Slash

Series: Bon Appetite

Summary: PWP. A little something to whet the appetite.

Comments: I've been a member of the list for a few weeks now, enjoying reading other people's stories. I thought it was about time I plucked up courage to submit one of my own. This is the first story in a series of four. I'm still working on the others. All comments and criticism gratefully accepted. A four course meal. Appetiser is the first course. The other three courses are at the 'ingredients assembled, but not yet cooked' stage.
This one's for Lisa, who liked my velvet curtains.

Beta reader(s): Many thanks to the wonderful Ginny for beta reading.

Archived to the Web site on 04/20/2003..

I'm walking from the bridge to Trip's quarters, nodding to crewmen as I pass them, trying to look as though I'm not hurrying, not as horny as hell and desperate to get to my lover. I'm late. Just as I was signing over to my beta shift replacement, Captain Archer waltzed in wanting to discuss yesterday 's phase cannon tests. Now I'm 30 minutes late. We're meeting Hoshi and Travis for dinner before the movie, but there's something I want to do first.

As I approach Trip's door I glance up and down the corridor. It's a reflex action. There's absolutely no reason why I shouldn't be visiting the chief engineer in his quarters, but I know why I'm here, and I suppose it's guilty conscience makes me check. Guilty pleasure. Is that what makes it so exciting; the secrecy, the guilty thrill? I key in the access code and enter as the door slides open. Trip is sitting at his desk, apparently absorbed in something on his screen; both hands flat on his thighs, shoulders hunched, head tilted slightly to one side. As soon as I see him I remember the answer to my question. It's not guilt that makes this so exciting; it's Trip.

"'Bout time,' he grumbles, getting to his feet as the door slides closed behind me, "you're late, Malcolm. I'm hungry.'

"So am I.' I cross the room in three long strides, grab hold of the front of his uniform in both hands and push him against the wall. He's so surprised, my mouth is on his before he has time to react. I kiss him hard, crushing his lips against his teeth until his mouth opens and lets me in. My tongue battles his, and I feel his body begin to relax against mine. His hands, which he had raised as though in submission when I attacked him, now find my shoulders, then slide down my back, coming to rest on my waist, holding me against him.

I break off the kiss; I need to breathe. I pull back slightly and look up into Trip's eyes. He's got eyes like sky-reflecting rock pools; beautifully blue, with the promise of hidden treasures in their depths. I could happily drown in those eyes.

"What's brought this on?' He's laughing at me, sunlight dances across the rock pools. "Not that I'm complainin,' he adds when I don't immediately reply.

"I think you know the answer to that,' I say, and he laughs again, glancing away briefly as a blush steals across his cheeks. "What was the meaning of that display on the bridge?' He'd been fixing something on the helm console, kneeling down, his back towards me, waggling his arse in the air. And, God, what a lovely arse it was; firm and round, the uniform stretched tight, delineating every curve. I know what he was doing. I just want to hear him say it.

"Jus' wanted to see if your phase cannon was on line,' he grins, increasing the pressure of his hands, rubbing my body against his, demonstrating that both our "phase cannons' are indeed ready for action.

I release my hold on his uniform, smoothing it back against his body, feeling the muscles move as he reacts to my touch. Then I take hold of the zip and pull it down as far as his waist. I'd like to pull it all the way, but that would mean stepping back and I don't want Trip to take his hands from my waist. I love to feel his hands on me, holding me. I push his uniform off his shoulders and he helps me release his arms, moving his hands of course, so I take the opportunity to pull the zip the rest of the way down. My fingers slide over his erection. He draws in a short breath and stills momentarily. I go back to wrestling with his uniform and Trip starts to breathe again.

I leave his uniform hanging at his waist. My hands are under his shirt, inside his blues, against his flesh. Hot hands on hot flesh. I push the garments up, ghosting across his nipples as I do so. I feel them harden as surely and as quickly as if my hands were ice. I drop the shirt and tank top on the floor then stop, drinking in the view before me. We've been lovers nearly three months now, and still the sight of Trip leaves me awed, dizzy. I let my hands move over him, stroking the hard planes of muscle, playing with the soft down of his chest hair, just staring, until I feel him give me a little shake.

"Breathe, Malcolm,' he says. "I don' want you passing out on me. In, out. In, out. That's it, darlin'.' He's laughing at me again, and at himself a bit. I know he finds it difficult to understand the effect he has on me. But he's so beautiful.

I sigh. With pleasure, I think, or maybe astonishment that this wonderful man loves me. In the background is my fear that he'll discover his mistake. That he'll wake up one morning next to me and see me for the flawed and frightened person that I really am and realise that he doesn't love me at all. I close my eyes and push the thought away. Trip's hand caresses my cheek and he lifts my chin, pulling me into another kiss; hugging me tightly to him for a moment, as if he sees my fear. Maybe he does.

Trip releases me and suddenly I'm cold, missing the close embrace. I decide to heat things up again and bending my head, take one of Trip's nipples in my mouth. He tastes of spice and salt, and a hair tickles my nose. I circle the nipple with my tongue, catch it in my teeth and pull gently, then suck hard. Trip arches his back against the wall, sucking in a breath as I suck him. His hands are on my shoulders, griping hard, and he makes that little moaning sound that drives me wild. I move my mouth to his other nipple while my hands move to his waist and slip inside his blues. I let my tongue trace a path down his body as I lower myself to my knees. Once I'm where I want to be, I start to pull down his uniform and blues. I slide them over his arse, then he relaxes back against the wall as I manoeuvre the garments over his erection and down to his ankles.

He assaults my senses. I see him hard and erect before me, jutting proudly from the nest of dark blond curls. His perfume fills my nostrils; the warm, sharp, male smell that is uniquely Trip. My hand reaches out and cups his balls, feeling their heat. He moans again and I lean forward to taste him, letting my tongue flick across the tip of his penis to capture the bead of pre-ejaculate.

"God, Malcolm,' he groans, and his knees buckle slightly as he slides a little way down the wall and thrusts his hips towards me.

I move the hand that has been caressing his balls and with it grasp the base of his penis, steadying both it and myself. Then I lick my lips to coat them with saliva and, sheathing my teeth, I take Trip in my mouth. His penis is hot and hard and my tongue strokes it, searching out its texture and its tender spots.

"Yes,' he sighs, as my mouth surrounds him. "That's it, darlin'. Just there. Oh!' His hips twitch, and one of his hands catches in my hair, asking me not to pull away, to let him thrust into me. But I'm not ready for that yet.

I pull my head back, paying final attention to the slit at the tip of his penis before I remove my mouth altogether. His soft whimper sounds so sad that I almost relent. Almost. I place my hands on his hips, leaning into him, stopping his thrusting. Trip's pulling on my hair, trying to guide me back to where he really wants me, so I let him do so. But instead of wrapping my mouth around him, I run my tongue along the underside of his penis, following the line of the vein, and then onward to his balls. I lick at them eagerly, then suck them carefully into my mouth, playing my tongue over and around them, soaking them. Knowing that when I release them the air hitting the spittle-wetted flesh will make them feel suddenly cold. It's a strange feeling; not pain, not pleasure, a tiny bit of both. I love it when Trip does it do me and I'm hoping he'll like it too. He gives a little gasp as I let his balls slide from my mouth. I take a quick look at his face. It seems he does like it.

I nibble at the top of his thighs, letting my face rub against his erection, nudging and pressing into it. Trip's breaths are getting shorter. He can't thrust because of my weight against him, but he's sliding against the wall in quick jerky movements. His moaning is becoming insistent, almost pleading. I smile to myself, knowing that I have done this. This amazing man is writhing under my hands, moaning my name. Wants'needs'loves me.

I close my lips round his penis again, relaxing the pressure on his hips and finally letting him thrust. With a muttered, "Oh yeah!' he buries himself in my mouth, pumping hard and fast now. I gag slightly as he catches the back of my throat, but I don't care. I, too, am caught up now in the urgency of his need. I let his passion inflame me and I abandon myself to the pleasure of pleasuring Trip. He pulls painfully on my hair as his orgasm overwhelms him, but I hardly notice. My mouth fills with his hot, viscous ejaculate, and I swallow it down happily, eagerly; sucking hard now, milking him of all he has to give. I rest my forehead against his stomach, feeling its frantic rise and fall as he struggles to control his panting. I keep my mouth round his penis, savouring Trip's taste, enjoying the changing sensation as he begins to soften inside me.

He lets his knees fold, or maybe he can't help it, and he slides down the wall until he's kneeling alongside me. My mouth is momentarily bereft at the loss of his now soft penis. Then his lips are on mine, kissing me hard. I open to him willingly, letting him in to share the glorious taste of Trip Tucker.

He breaks off the kiss, resting his head on my shoulder. "Thank you, Mal,' he says. "I love ya, darlin',' and he tightens his arms around me.

His breathing is almost back to normal now; hot, moist gusts against my neck, ruffling my hair and tickling my ear. I relax into his arms and know that I am safe here, and happy. Possibly for the first time in my adult life, truly happy.

~the end~