Shoreleave - by kyrdwyn (NC-17)

This time, he thought to himself, he had done the right thing in not joining any of his shipmates for shore leave.  Trip could chase all the exotic women he wanted, Hoshi could attempt to learn the Tensaurian's musical trill of a language, and T'Pol could meditate in the religious gardens to her Vulcan heart's content.  He was doing fine on his own.  He had found a small bed and breakfast outside of the city proper that rather reminded him of England.  The building was an old converted stone house in the middle of empty fields, but within walking distance of several of the planet's battle ruins, a plus in his eye.  The climate was warmer than home, the people less reserved, but since this was the off-season for tourists, he didn't have to deal with people.  In fact, there were only four beings in residence at the manor, and two of them were the husband and wife who owned it.    Malcolm and another being who called itself "Ja'el" were the only two guests.  Which allowed their hosts to give them quite a lot of attention, not a good thing in some instances.

Like now, Malcolm thought as he leaned against the door of his suite, locking it behind him.  He'd been out exploring one of the ruins when the skies had opened and a torrential rainstorm had come thundering down.  He'd been soaked through when he'd gotten back to the manor, hoping to quietly slip upstairs and grab a hot shower.   That plan was foiled when Yvella had seen him.  She'd immediately hustled him into the kitchen and one of the tiny cubicles near the fireplace.  A thick caftan robe was tossed into him as she trilled something in Tensaurian.  Though he didn't speak the language, he thought it sounded remarkably like 'get out of those wet clothes and into that robe before you catch a cold, young man!'

Stepping out of the cubicle wearing the robe, with his wet garments in one hand and wet boots in the other, he knew he'd been right about what Yvella had said.  She took the clothes from him and handed them to one of the day help before pushing Malcolm into a chair and, much to his chagrin, toweling his hair dry.  Once that was accomplished, she started trilling at her husband, Ulverin, as he hurried in and out of the room.  Then she started scolding Malcolm in English, while pushing a glass of kveth - the Tensaurian version of a hot toddy - at him.

Now, he'd finally managed to escape Yvella's mother-henning, though his clothing was still in her care.  Moving away from the door to get something dry to wear, he noticed the door to the bathroom was open, the lights on.  Warily, he moved closer, then stopped as he realized what Ulverin had been doing.

The sunken bathtub was filled almost to the brim with steaming hot water and bubbles.  Malcolm shook his head; bubble baths were a little too…decadent for his tastes.  He walked over to the tub to drain it, then stopped, staring at it.  Lots of hot water, non-recycled hot water, and no need to ration it or worry about another crewmember needing him for something.  Malcolm stripped off the caftan and stepped into the tub.  Sometimes, being decadent was worth it.

Settling back against the stone, he felt little waves of water lap at his shoulders.  The heat soaked into his body, warming and relaxing him.  A small smile played around his lips as he thought of his crewmates' reactions should they see him.  An armory officer wasn't supposed to indulge in a bubble bath.  Even a bath almost as perfect as this one was.  In fact, only two things were needed to make the bath perfect - another glass of kveth and the presence of the object of Malcolm's fantasies.  The kveth would be easy to obtain, he knew.  The other…well, that was probably beyond Malcolm's reach.  After all, though Malcolm generally preferred men over women, the man he was fixated on at the moment had never given any indication that he 'played for both teams', as the saying went.  A shame, since the man had the right body for another man to adore and worship in the dark hours of the night.  He'd seen his fantasy half-dressed in decon or the dressing chamber for the EV suits.  The tight Starfleet blues left nothing to the imagination.

Closing his eyes and sinking deeper into the water, Malcolm sighed.  He felt the tickle of the water against his neck and allowed himself to imagine that instead of the hard stone at his back, he was leaning against his lover's muscled chest, the man's lips caressing his neck where the water was.  Hands drifted lightly over Malcolm's chest, stopping to stroke and tweak Malcolm's nipples, chuckling softly in appreciation for Malcolm's soft gasps of pleasure.  One hand came up to gently cup the armory officer's chin, turning him toward his lover for a thorough, drugging kiss.  A kiss that contained passion and lust and affection, with a hint of unspoken love lurking in the background.

Malcolm whimpered when his lover's other hand slid down his stomach to gently caress the erection that was now aching for a touch.  He practically purred as long, lazy fingers trailed down to his balls and back up to circle the crown.  The delicious torture continued even as Malcolm tried to thrust into his lover's hand.  Light kisses were placed upon his face as his lover softly shushed him.

The hand on his chin began to trace light paths around Malcolm's neck and chest as the other hand grasped his cock and began to stroke it with alternating light and hard pressure, enough to bring him to the edge and then ease him away from it in a delicious cycle that had Malcolm groaning and cursing under his breath.  Another chuckle from the man behind him led to hard strokes and a tweak of a nipple.  Malcolm's breath caught in a hitch as his entire body seemed to spasm at once, and he bit his lip against the noises that wanted to escape as he came and came hard for his lover.

Limply, he relaxed back into the cooling water, automatically turning to kiss Jon, and realized that it had just been his imagination again.  He sighed as he got out of the tub and drained it, wondering if these amorous forays into his imagination were all that he would have of the man he wanted.  But what would the captain of the Enterprise want with a man like Malcolm Reed?