Title: Requiem For Apathy

Author: Britta

Series: VOY

Codes: C/P

Rating: NC-17

Archive: Fine with me, just tell me where.

Disclaimer: Someone else owns these folks. I just let them do whatever they want. Money being made? You have got to be kidding. It's a labor of love--theirs. May contain m/m sex, if you don't like, take a hike.

Requiem For Apathy

Tom Paris stared deeply into his fake beer watching the bubbles rise as if hoping they would do something more interesting. He briefly pondered the attributes of his libation: it looked, smelled, and tasted like the genuine article; it even gave him a slight buzz, but one that was too easily shaken off.

It just wasn't real. But what was any more?

He took another sip and let the fizz roll over his tongue as he warily eyed the other patrons of Sandrine's. The stress of being stuck in the Delta Quadrant coupled with Janeway's insistence on Starfleet protocol was getting to him, and everyone else.

The overload expressed itself differently in each individual. Some grew erratic, even on duty. Many became paranoid, or overly sensitive to any little thing, angry and hostile. Most people were simply overwhelmed.

He, himself, was in danger of becoming completely numb. Not much registered these days. Nothing made a dent, really engaged his interest, or ignited his passion. He wondered if he had any passion left. Maybe that's why B'Elanna had left him, because he'd become too dull for her. He was so subdued these days that even his latest holoprogram was gathering space dust.

He needed a different type of challenge--something that would allow him to feel alive again.

Tom observed the last of his pseudo beer bubbles join their mates in the vestiges of the foam clinging to the inside of his glass and thought he'd better come up with an idea quickly or he'd lose his mind.

Just then, Chakotay entered the bar and a concept went nova in Tom's head. Now there was somebody to play with, somebody dangerous. Memories of long ago began to surface and Tom recalled the wild days when he'd served under Chakotay in the Maquis.

He gauged the expression on Chakotay's face and decided the man was only a breath away from becoming truly fired up. He signaled to Sandrine for a refill and overheard his CO order genuine alcohol.

Slugging down his second ersatz beer more quickly than Sandrine liked, if the look she gave him was anything to go by, he willed his balls to be bigger than usual and approached the bar. Sliding onto the barstool next to the commander's, he tilted his head toward the man and drawled, "I'll have the same." Rations be damned.

A shot of tequila was slammed down in front of him and Sandrine shoved the salt under his nose. Then she slapped a small lime on the bar between the two men and deftly quartered it, leaving Tom with no illusions about her displeasure.

Chakotay straightened at the woman's movements, as if noticing her scowl. He glanced at Tom and said, "Only you could piss off a hologram of your own making, Paris."

Tom put some salt on his fist then licked it off, downed the shot, an stuck a piece of lime in his mouth. As he nodded his response, his eyes began to water. Damn. It had been a long time since he'd indulged in something like this.

As Sandrine stomped away, Tom decided to go for Chakotay's jugular. He leaned close to the older man and rasped, "Wanna fuck?"

Dark eyes shot him an enigmatic look. Then the commander stated, "My quarters, five minutes."

Tom watched as Chakotay swallowed another hefty shot, bit into a lime slice, then walked away looking like he was headed for Bridge duty. Ignoring Sandrine's glare, he reached over the bar and poured himself another drink. Before she could bitch at him, he choked it down and gave her a lime-rind smile.

As she approached him indignantly, Tom sucked the last of the juice from the fruit then flipped the peel in her direction and hot-footed it out of the holodeck. He headed toward his fate for the evening and wondered if his gambit would net him a superior sensual experience or just get him lectured.

The thrill of not knowing exactly what Chakotay would do began to thrum throughout his body, awakening his nerve endings from a deep sleep. With each step he took, the excitement grew until it resembled pre-flight jitters, honing his senses into finely-tuned instruments. By the time he tapped on the commander's door, he was bristling with so much energy it felt like sparks were shooting from his skin, even his clothing itched.

The door opened and he entered Chakotay's personal sanctuary only to find the man naked from the waist up and obviously waiting for him. Letting out a deep breath, he approached his former captain and the years fell away.

Chakotay did nothing and Tom began to remove his uniform. Piece by piece he exposed himself, and like peeling off the outer, protective layers of an onion, his essence was laid bare. A sharpness of breath caught in his lungs momentarily, then it eased and he felt like an animal freed from a trap.

He shed his Starfleet-issue armor and stood naked and unashamed before the Maquis rebel that still existed beneath the camouflage. Without a word, Chakotay stared at him intently. That gaze warmed him in ways he had forgotten. Tom closed his eyes and let go of his expectations. He knew it would be good...again.

A hand settled at the base of his neck and he shivered. Soft lips wrung shudders of appreciation from him as they explored his collarbones and moved to his chest. He slid his hands over Chakotay's smooth shoulders and down his back as far as possible enjoying the muscle movements that accompanied each action.

He could feel Chakotay's breath on the skin of his belly and knew his cock was in for a treat. It was just like the old days; he would be sucked into oblivion, then fucked within an inch of his life. It was exactly what he needed.

Strong hands gripped his thighs as he wound his fingers through the short, dark hair of his once-upon-a-time lover. For years he'd tried to pretend it never happened--that part of his life was over. Now, he knew he'd been lying to himself all along. None of the women he'd been with since had made him feel like this.

The sight and smell of Chakotay did something to him no amount of hot, juicy pussy could compare with. And, for some reason, Chakotay's scent seemed to go right up his nose and directly south, making him harder than ever. He rubbed the ears and neck of his un-lover and wished things could be different. Why did it have to be this man who affected him so strongly? Why?

He quit thinking when his dick disappeared into the hot wetness of his commanding officer's throat. The tension that had built up so quickly on the way from the holodeck dissipated almost as fast when he came after several solid sucks and firm caresses.

His knees threatened to turn to jelly and Tom found himself being led to the bedroom. Ah, round two was about to commence. Thinking he knew what to expect, he smiled with relief and didn't even care when Chakotay's dark brown eyes met up with his own baby blues.

The older man said, "That was just to take the edge off."

"Thanks. I appreciate it." Tom flopped onto the bed feeling much more relaxed. He watched as Chakotay slipped out of his trousers and shorts. "I don't suppose you'd like to tell me why you agreed to this, would you?"

Naked and hard, Chakotay stood beside the bed and replied, "You didn't come here for conversation." He entered the bathroom and a moment later emerged with a towel and a half-used tube of lubricant.

Tom wondered why Chakotay kept lube on hand. Who else came to him to be fucked? Was he the latest in a long line of needy people? He pushed that thought aside when Chakotay dimmed the lights and got comfortable by lying on the bed beside him.

It then started all over again. Chakotay's fingers brought him pleasure in myriad ways: by gliding atop his skin, inserting them into his mouth, and fondling his ass. Tom lost himself in sensation once more, though he wondered why Chakotay bothered to take his time; why didn't he just flip him over and get on with it?

Was there something special he wanted? Something kinky? Had the guy's tastes changed over time? As the thick digits probed and twisted, he decided it didn't matter. The uncertainty added to his pleasure. When Chakotay turned them both onto their sides and entered him at last, all his thoughts and feelings fled to his genitals and he became pure lust.

The only feeling he was aware of was that of being filled. Every hole in his soul felt plugged. There was no more of his life force leaking away, instead, it was growing, expanding with every thrust of Chakotay's cock into his ass. Tom reveled in the sweet sensation for as long as he could. Then, like his thought processes earlier, his body followed the cycle of a nova, until it eventually cooled. His brain settled and he figured it was time to leave. Chakotay had taken him, stirred up his emotions, and now it was all over.

He tried to move away from the heavy body that lay beside him, but was stopped by an arm around his waist, pulling tightly. "What?"

"Don't go. Stay the night."

Tom turned and stared at the man who had re-awakened him. "Why?" he asked cautiously, almost afraid of the answer.

"I get lonely sometimes," was the low response.

Sinking back into the warm embrace, Tom nodded and Chakotay called for lights out.

THE END