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

Title: Solitaire/Solidarity

Author: nostalgia

Author's e-mail: [email protected]

Author's Web site: http://bitextual.gatefiction.com/nostalgia

Fandom: Enterprise

Pairing: Reed/Sato

Rating: NC-17

Category: Het

Summary: A game played alone/Unity in purpose or interest

Comments: For Dorsi, because linguistics is funny.

Beta reader(s): Beta'd by the lovely Taryn Eve.

Archived to Reed's Armory on 10/17/2003.

He thinks about Hoshi. A recent development, which may mean something and may mean nothing. Others have had this honour, a list of men and women stretching back to his adolescence, some of the names forgotten, others just repressed.

The water cascades down, washing grease and sweat and dead skin from his body. He leans against the wall of the shower, eyes closed, muscles relaxed. He thinks about those wide, gazelle eyes and hair blacker than the vacuum. He has to use his imagination to fill in the blanks, to replace fabric with skin. This is an exercise in visualisation.

His hand does not feel like Hoshi, however vividly he imagines her. It is too rough and too cool. He continues anyway.

He thinks of her smiling, and the way she blushes so easily. He thinks about touching her, tasting her.

One day this will happen, he tells himself, and it will be

...in the shower, her legs wrapped around him, fingers digging into his back.

She brushed against him today, in a doorway. He remembers how warm she was, how soft.

His hand moves faster and he thinks about Hoshi

...her skin sliding against his, her teeth scraping the skin on his shoulder as she tries to hold back a scream.

Her breath in his ear as she clings to him, moaning his name like a mantra.

He reaches his goal and cries out her name. He breathes in a lungful of oxygen, worries about sound travelling through metal. He feels the familiar twinge of guilt.

...and he will lower her carefully back to her feet, holding onto her as she steadies herself. And she will smile and kiss him and tell him that it was perfect. Perhaps she will even say that she loves him.

But this is just a fantasy, a dream of the improbable, and the water rushes down to meet the spilled fluid and wash it away, off to be recycled. At least someone will have a use for it, he thinks, and he looks up to let the water meet his face, closing his eyes against the pressure.

It will never happen, he tells himself, and the water rushes past his ears, drowning out his thoughts.

---

She thinks about Malcolm. It embarrasses her and every time she does it she tells herself it's going to be the last. But it never is, she always needs to picture him again, she always needs some source material.

If he knew... she thinks, and she feels her skin burn at the thought. She feels stupid, a little guilty. If he knew... But she is after all, only human. A species too young to be out here, too brash to be held back. Centuries from now, when the humans are the ones telling other races that they aren't ready, this urge will be no more. But this is the present; this is youth.

Her fingers are wet and supple, a poor substitute for his tongue. She places one hand on the wall of the shower to steady herself, lets the other move with practiced ease between her legs.

She imagines the warmth from her hand as the heat of his mouth, the shower water as saliva.

...his hands on her hips as he licks and sucks, her heart racing. He knows his way, has been here so many times before. Her lover.

At this she moves her fingers faster, applies more pressure.

Her lover.

She sinks down to the floor of the shower, skin squeaking against wet plastic. She arches her back against the wall; leverage. She bites her bottom lip to stop herself crying out.

...his speed increases, pulling her closer to the edge. She runs her fingers through his hair, a silent encouragement. She gasps.

Hoshi sits under the fall of water, trembling slightly. She draws in deep breaths to calm herself once more. Satisfaction, contentment.

...his arms around her as they share the too-small bed, his heartbeat a lullaby.

Serenity.

But it will never happen, she tells herself, and closes her eyes to stop them getting wetter.

~the end~