Squeaky

"Hey Malcolm, wanna beer?" Trip asked, opening the bar fridge in his quarters and pulling out two bottle by the neck.

"Out of bourbon, then?" Malcolm grinned, accepting the bottle. He turned it to look at the label. "Miller lite, eh?" he smiled, "one of my favorites."

"Really?" Trip raised his bottle to his mouth, "why's that?" He took a drink.

"Because it's less filling than regular beers," Malcolm replied quizzically, "why else?"

Trip looked at him, aghast. "Are you kiddin' me?" he said, "this stuff tastes great!"

"But it is the fact that it is less filling that holds the real appeal," Malcolm replied, drinking. "Many beers taste great."

"I don't believe this!" Trip said, leaning back in his chair to stare at Malcolm, "here I am, offerin' you a beer, and you tell me that my opinion on why I like it, is wrong?"

"I'm sure we disagree on many things, Commander." Malcolm replied calmly.

"But this is beer!" Trip exclaimed, setting his bottle down on his desk and jumping to his feet, "It ain't a matter of opinion! Miller Lite is a great tastin' beer, end of story!"

Malcolm set his beer down beside his chair, stood up and crossed his arms. "Just because you're shouting doesn't make your opinion any better informed," Malcolm said archly, "the beer is less-filling. That is why it is a good drink."

Trip's expression hardened. "It tastes great, Malcolm, an' that's that."

"Less filling, Commander. Deal with it."

"Tastes great," Trip repeated. He fisted his hands.

"Less filling," Malcolm replied. He uncrossed his arms, letting them hang loose and ready at his side.

"I'm gonna make you eat those words, limey." Trip snarled.

"Just try, yank." Malcolm snarled back.

Trip lunged, catching Malcolm around the chest with his arms. Their momentum carried them to the floor where they landed in a heap. In a flash, Malcolm had righted himself and was straddling Trip's torso,

Trip's arms pinned to his side by Malcolm's legs. "Admit it,"

Malcolm said, "The beer is less filling!"

"Never!" Trip cried and levered Malcolm off with his legs. Malcolm fell sideways, one leg still wrapped around Trip. Trip fell with him, landing half on his side, Malcolm partially trapped beneath him. His crotch suddenly nestled deep between Malcolm's legs. Trip felt himself stirring. He looked at Malcolm, eyes widening. "Uhhh," he stammered.

Malcolm felt himself responding to the pressure of Trip's growing erection. He shifted himself slightly so Trip's hardness was rubbing against him. "Do you want to keep fighting?" he asked, eyes seductive.

"Not really." Trip cleared his throat.

"Want to make out?" Malcolm asked, licking his lips. "I'll show you what tastes great."

Trip leaned in to kiss him, their tongues intertwining. He had to admit, Malcolm was right.