Southern Comfort

by TripFan

M/M, T/R, implied A/T and M/R

R for language and sexual content

Disclaimers: Cmdr. Charles "Trip" Tucker III, Lt. Malcolm Reed, other Enterprise characters, and the Enterprise TV series, are the property of Paramount Pictures. No characters were harmed in the writing of this work of fan fiction (except for a couple of broken hearts), and no money is being made off its publication. So there. ;-P

This story deals with male/male sexuality. If YOU can't deal, read no further. Thank you :)

Southern Comfort

by TripFan

Armoury Officer's Log. PERSONAL AND CONFIDENTIAL. Fifth entry.

I've seen the way she looks at him. The coy tilt of her head, the little smile.

I'm sure she fancies him.

If Travis took more notice of me than of Ensign Sato, perhaps I wouldn't worry. After all, there should be no question where his affections lie; we have been intimate twice.

Unfortunately, there is. In the last fortnight, he's scarcely acknowledged my existence at all. I understand we've both had duties to attend to. I also understand the need for discretion--especially in front of the senior officers. Still, one would think a lover merited at least a few minutes of attention.

Then again, perhaps I have been deceiving myself. Perhaps Travis' affair with me has been an experiment, a way station on his journey...elsewhere. Perhaps my love has been an embarrassment to him. To the best of my knowledge, only Dr. Phlox knows of our relationship. However, even one sworn to confidentiality may be one too many, if shame is indeed what separates us.

Today when the three of us--Travis, Ensign Sato, and myself--were on the bridge together, I could no longer endure the pressure. I muttered some excuse or other about the starboard sensors being out, and left the bridge. I paced the corridor outside until the knot in my solar plexus untied itself.

Had I eaten breakfast this morning, I'm quite sure I would have vomited at what I saw when I returned. Ensign Sato wore a frozen smile; Travis quickly stood at attention and said, "Sorry, sir." Just like a pair of naughty children.

With a Suliban loose on our ship, I fortunately had plenty to distract me for the rest of the day. Only when I'd sealed off Daniels' quarters, and my shift had ended, could I allow myself to think of Travis again. The last time we were together, we'd made love in a cocoon tethered to the deck in Travis' quarters. The feeling of floating in midair, with nothing but his arms to support me, was at once exhilarating--and terrifying.

"Malcolm, it's okay. You're not gonna fall."

Well, it appeared I had, in a way--and I couldn't allow myself to dwell on it. My insides coiled tightly, like springs, around themselves. The gymnasium, now there was a good place to discharge some of that tension. I'd go there.

I hit a punching bag, shouted and swore at it until exhaustion brought me to the mat. Defeated, I lay there with my eyes closed against the sting of my own perspiration.

"Are you okay, Lieutenant? Thought the Suliban had come back for you, with all the hollerin' in here."

Even before I opened my eyes, I knew that voice. The Southern accent that had so annoyed--and intrigued--me since my early days on the Enterprise was like an old friend to me now. As was its owner--Commander Tucker. He looked at me with an expression somewhere between bemusement and--I dare say--concern.

"I'm fine."

"Sorry. I was just wonderin'." Then he grinned that teasing grin and said, "I mean, why else would you of all people be screaming, 'Goddamn you stupid fucking bastard?' You're lucky there wasn't a lady present. Not that it wasn't funny to watch--but, it just wasn't like you, y'know?"

How had he seen and heard me, without my knowing about it?

"I could hear you all the way down the corridor. Then I looked in just as you hit the mat. Guess the fuckin' bastard beat you this time, huh?"

"I suppose so, Sir." I may have managed a weak smile, at this point. What I wanted really, was for him to take me in his arms and carry me out of there.

"God, Malcolm, cut the 'sir' crap already! We're both off duty. Call me Trip."

"Very well...Trip." I drew a deep breath before speaking again. "Look, I can explain all this...but I think it's best we go somewhere a bit more private first."

"Okay...your place or mine?"

I may have been mistaken, but it appeared Trip was flirting with me! All right then. "I'd suggest my quarters. They're closer, for one thing. For another, they're more...intimate."

Trip raised an eyebrow. Perhaps I shouldn't have been so forward with a superior. There were, after all, Starfleet regulations against fraternization.

At any rate, he didn't seem to mind. When he helped me to my feet, he was smiling: a flash of teeth, some crinkling around the eyes. Was he teasing, as before? Or--could I now allow myself to believe the alternative?

Had he never meant to tease at all? Had I been his fantasy, as he had been mine?

***

"This what you call 'intimate'?" Trip asked me as we entered my quarters. "Can't wait to see what you call 'cramped.'"

"The lavatory's right over there." I gave him a wry smile.

"That's okay, I don't need it."

"Are you sure?"

"Sure I'm sure. What I need right now, is for you to tell me who this 'stupid fucking bastard' is."

I could not bring myself to say Travis' name, to look right into Trip's clear blue eyes and malign his best friend. What I could say, was perhaps much closer to the truth:

"You're talking to him."

Trip's brow furrowed. His lips moved, as if they were forming words, but no sound came out.

"I've been stupid," I explained. "I mean, here I am, falling in love with someone I've only slept with twice, and h-- the someone has practically ignored me these last few weeks. It's certainly not the first time this has happened to me."

"Don't be so hard on yourself. If you're stupid, then so am I."

I'm sure that, with my widened eyes and dropped jaw, I must have looked like a blubbering fish. In truth, I was surprised at Trip's revelation. The two of us were, outwardly, so very different. Was it possible that our similarities outweighed those differences?

"Eight years ago," Trip continued, as if he'd seen the questions forming on my face. "He was...another Starfleet officer. Not the first man I'd slept with, but...definitely the first I fell in love with. There've been others--men and women--since, but I've never really gotten over him." He sighed, and offered me a sad smile. "We sure know how to pick 'em, don't we, Malcolm?"

I wanted to offer him comfort, but the words stuck in my throat, and I wasn't certain a touch would be appropriate. My hands and face burned with indecision--and embarrassment.

Trip chuckled. "Y'know, Malcolm, you're kinda cute when you're nervous."

END PART 3