By T’Yanna and Karahkwa

Codes: VOY C/P

Disclaimer: All things Trek belong to Paramount. No copyright infringement intended. Please don’t sue us.

Summary: A Little adventure with a female Q leads to the discovery of a soulmate.

Captain Janeway walked down the corridor besides her first officer. He’d seemed distracted of late. On the bridge, he was just shy of being blatantly inattentive. Something was obviously bothering him.

If it were any other crewman she would have called him on it weeks ago, but she knew he would work out his problems eventually. However, Chakotay was talking his own sweet time about it.

Chakotay sighed for no reason at all, earning himself one of the increasing frequently glares. He turned his head to smile ever so slightly. He knew he was just annoying her but if he was confused as hell then so should she be.

The commander’s mind turned to the subject that had been bothering him for almost two months now: Tom and B’Elanna’s relationship. It had shown him just how lonely he was.

More than any one event in the last five years, it had shown him just how isolated he was from the rest of the crew. In some ways, even the captain had better personal relationships with the crewmembers. It seemed like he was perpetually stuck in the roles of commander and ship’s counselor.

The doors to the mess hall opened and out of some innate sense of courtesy, he slowed his last step so that Janeway entered first. The slight delay did not, however, stop him from seeing the display before him.

B’Elanna Torres and Tom Paris were standing nose to nose screaming at each other. A rather frightened Harry Kim was trying to break them up. He said something to the both of them. Whatever it was, it wasn’t the right thing to say. B’Elanna backhanded him so hard he flew six meters.

“What the hell, B’Elanna!” Tom screeched as he jerked on her arm.

Her fists flew at him in rapid succession and the helmsman soon found himself flying through the air much like Harry had to land on a table half way across the hall.

B’Elanna stood there just breathing heavily through her nose. She reminded Chakotay briefly of a snorting bull about ready to charge. Then suddenly the fight drained out of her.

Her flashing brown eyes met the captain’s and deflated. She walked right passed them saying softly, “I’ll be in the brig.”

Chakotay helped Harry to his feet. The young man was conscious, barely but it was obvious he wasn’t gonna make it to sickbay by himself. Glancing over at Tuvok, who was trying to awaken Paris, he called out. “Computer, transport Ensigns Kim and Paris directly to sick bay.”

The captain nodded. “Tuvok, you’re with me.” She strode out the door and no one there had a doubt that Torres was in deep shit.

Chakotay sighed again and then exited the mess hall as well. He headed down the corridors for sickbay.

Harry was sitting up and aside from a rather dark bruise that seemed to cover all of his face seemed fine. He had a slight concussion but the Doctor said it would only take a few minutes to fix and then he could go back on duty.

“Mr. Paris, on the other hand, will be here over night.” This got the holograph a dirty look from the newly revived patient.

“Is B’Elanna in the brig?” Harry asked.

“Yes. You do want to press charges, don’t you?” The question had been directed at Harry but Tom was the one who answered it.

“Hell, yeah!”

Chakotay’s eyes met those of the pilot. _Well, I guess I’ll just have to find a new couple to obsess about.

He sighed. Sometimes things were so complicated.

"I can make things simple."

He raised his head sharply to see a woman floating above him. Suddenly, glancing around he saw that he was in a giant white void. There was nothing there but the two of them and his bed. "What?"

"I said that I could make life simple. Come now, show that human ingenuity that Q has told us all about." The woman was tall, with dark skin and large eyes. A large smirk graced her full lips. Amusement danced in her eyes.

"What’s your game Q?"

She smiled. "Straight forward. I like that. It’s simple. You merely need to pick which one is from your reality. I’ll even be merciful and bring them forth one at a time."

Turning his head, he saw a viewing scene appear. It focused on a door. It opened and out stepped a half dressed Tom Paris with a towel over his head. Water droplets glistened on his skin.

"I am supposed to pick out the Tom Paris that’s from my universe? What’s the catch?" The suspicion dripped from his voice. Somehow, this seemed just too easy.

"No catch Chakotay. You think that you know your pilot so well prove it."

Chakotay opened his mouth to protest but before he could say anything, she vanished.

One large screen appeared where Q had been standing. There, images flickered by so fast his barely had time to register them. Then suddenly the screen went black.

Later he wouldn’t be able to say how long he’d stood there. The different Tom’s were swirling around in his mind.

Any Tom…

Every Tom…

As the images whipped through his mind, five kept coming to the foreground.

There was an odd sound and Chakotay looked up at the screen. It was coming apart. The five pieces moved so that they formed a circle around him. They flickered briefly and the images began to form.

Chakotay looked around. What the hell was he supposed to do now? Where were all the other Toms?

A PADD popped into existence right in front of his face. He grabbed it and read the first line “The Rules.”

Chakotay smiled. Q wasn’t being totally unreasonable. Maybe he would get out of this, after all.

When he looked down and began reading, his smiled faded.

The Rules

1. You must pick the Tom Paris from your universe. I have shown you many. You have chosen five to view again.
2. You may view each twice more.
3. You will be able to see and hear them but that is all.
4. You must pick the correct Tom Paris or you will not return to Voyager.

Chakotay sighed. With Q gone, there was no way he could get out of this without actually playing this game with her.

“Damn.” He turned his attention to the screen.

Slowly an image began to form.

The first thing Chakotay noticed was golden curls. They weren’t like the ones he’d seen every day for the last five years. They seemed less tame… and more golden. When the head looked up he could see why.

The face before him was that a young man. He couldn’t have been more than sixteen if that old. He also looked very lonely.

It was then that Chakotay noticed the surroundings. The room was as sterile as sickbay. The walls were so white they gleamed and the only furniture beside the small desk the boy sat at was a small bed under a small window. If he hadn’t known better, he would have thought the boy was in a prison or mental institution of some sort.

“Blue sky. With clouds. And flowers, lots of flowers.”

The words drew Chakotay’s eyes back to the boy. His blue eyes, even beautiful then, had a far off look as if he was seeing something more than the white wall before him.

The view shifted and Chakotay was looking over his shoulder. He was writing on paper with an old fashioned pen. He seemed to be writing holodeck programs.

“Birds… blue birds flying by and sparrows singing.”

Chakotay watched as he wrote the code for just that. Would this boy ever see that program come to life?

Chakotay could see so much detail and life in that program. It was so bright and cheery as compared to the smoky atmosphere of Sandrine’s. Still he could see the same attention to detail.

The picture began to slowly fade out.

Once again Chakotay found himself in the white void. He sighed and when he looked around he saw a new screen appear. He walked towards it. When he was right in front of it, another picture began to appear.

This time it was a shuttle. Chakotay had a moment of horror thinking that Q was showing him Calik Prime. But then he heard two blessed words.

“Simulation complete.”

He heard to sighs. One sounded like pleasure, the other like relief. Chakotay turned to view the two occupants. Both were blond-headed, blue-eyed cadets. Neither wore the smirk that graced Paris’s face as he flew now. There was no sight of the curls he’d seen in the previous view.

“Beginning Simulation 45.”

“45! Damn. Computer, time?” This came from the one on the left. He was sitting in the copilot’s chair but had been piloting the last simulation.

“The time is 2036.”

“Shit. I was supposed to meet Shari at 2030.”

The young man sprinted for the end of the simulation chamber. At the door he turned back. “You coming?”

“No.”

The other boy just shook his head. “Paris, you’re the only guy I know who’d turn down a hot Friday night date for flight sims.”

Chakotay jerked. The Tom Paris he knew was a womanizing pig. But he did love to fly and that was the look on this boy’s face as the simulation began.

Before he could ponder farther, the image disappeared. Almost immediately he heard a loud noise to his right. The sound of pool balls bumping together caught his attention as another image came into clarity.

The room was well-lit. There were lights strung around the room and music that he recognized as relating to the earth holiday Christmas. Around the table were three boys about twenty-one or -two.

The two others were dark haired and formally dressed. Straining he could hear the sounds of a party in the background. That Tom was obviously not dressed like the others stuck out like a sore thumb.

His face was covered with stubble, his hair long shaggy and randomly curling out at odd angles around his head. He looked like he hadn’t slept in weeks or eaten in at least that long. His navy blue shirt hung from his body.

The next thing he noticed was the shaking hands and the stiff way he moved around the table. Suddenly he missed an easy shot. His eyes closed briefly and a grimace crossed his gaunt face.

"Thanks for given us a turn, cousin."

He sank wearily into one of the chairs, bringing a glass shakily to his pale lips. All in all, he looked like death warmed over. Liquid sloshed out of his glass to dribble down his chin.

"Hey Tommy. Don’t get water on that chair. You know how Grandmother is about her antiques."

An angry glare was turned on the one not shooting. "Thanks for the reminder."

The man was taller than Tom by at least three inches and looked nothing like him. His glass was filled with dark red whine. In an obviously rich behavior he spun his glass before taking a sip. "So I see your game is a little off. Not have much practice time?"

That was ignored completely. Instead, his eyes fell longingly on the brandy decanter around the room. Suddenly, he seemed to shake it off. "Something like that."

The image faded quickly, almost has if Q had shown him too much.

Chakotay stepped up to another screen. When the picture cleared he almost didn’t see Tom at all. What he saw was an old-time truck like the one they’d found when they’d met Amelia Earhart. He started to turn away to call for Q when he finally saw them. Two feet sticking out from under the side.

The view shifted and Chakotay could see Tom’s face as he worked on the vehicle. There were grease smudges on his face and hands and he seemed as happy as a clam. He was grinning widely and after a bit started whistling.

He couldn’t carry a tune, Chakotay thought with a smile. He didn’t know if his Tom could or not but the love of cars had been obvious. He hadn’t forgotten the look of glee that had been on his face when he’d seen that truck.

Tom seemed to have an innate ability to fix things. He’d lost count of the number of small repairs Tom had done on shuttle missions or while helping out in engineering.

Chakotay looked at Tom’s hands for a moment. He had a hard time seeing those greasy mitts sliding gracefully across the conn. Still this was Paris. There could never be a Thomas Eugene Paris who couldn’t fly with a elegance that amazed all around him.

The final window in the multi-verses of Parises opened. The scene was one of a dark corner of what appeared to be Sandrine’s. Tom sat staring into the corner. His back was tense facing the noisy crowd. He seemed upset and withdrawn into himself.

His hands curled into fists and then relaxed. An untouched drink sat before him. He stared into the amber liquid. It caught what little light that reflected into the dank corner.

Beside the glass sat a PADD. Whatever was on it didn’t seem to hold his interest. He kept picking it up and squinting to read it, then putting it back down only to repeat the process again and again. He kept looking nervously around the room.

If his shoulders got any more ridged they’d shatter like glass. Suddenly the PADD rose again and this time he was able to read it.

Chakotay winced on behalf of the man before him. It was a rather mean spirited "Dear John." One line stuck out jumped out at him. "It’s not fair to me or anyone else to have to deal with your problems."

That had to add insult to injury. To be dumped via PADD was tough but this girl was obviously rude. Another line caught his attention. "Sometimes I think that you only asked me out because I’m a psychologist."

Tom seemed visibly shaken by this. Suddenly he downed the drink in front of him. He stormed out of the bad and into the street. The window didn’t follow him but showed Sandrine come and pick up the note with obvious sadness and compassion in her face.

Chakotay looked at his feet. He’d seen five different Tom Parises and being completely honest with himself, he wasn’t sure who was his. They all were the man he knew in some way. If it was loves or interests, there were some thing that made him look twice at all of them.

Sighing he looked down at the PADD he’d been given. “You must pick the correct Tom Paris or you will not be returned to Voyager.” What was he going to do? He didn’t know who… “You can see each one more than once but no more than twice.”

That was his only hope. He had to pay more attention the second time around.

He strode over to the first screen. Again he saw the white room with the Spartan furnishings. This time he ignored the gleaming walls and focused on Tom. He had stared at the back of that head everyday for five years. He would know it’s shape and the set of his shoulders anywhere. He settled behind the young man and just watched.

There was something he couldn’t decide. Some that just told him to keep looking. This isn’t him screamed his mind. When the soft voice spoke, he knew without a doubt. Tom talked when he flew little things to the ship and this wasn’t the right tone of voice.

Chakotay turned away and went to the second screen. The shuttle’s inside came into view and the commander focussed immediately on the boy in the pilot’s chair. There was a serious look on his face but again, he never saw the man’s face as he flew. He looked instead at the way he sat in the chair, the way his hands moved over the controls, the way his eyes took in every detail.

This was more like the Tom Paris he knew. He thought may be this was the one. But…

The third image appeared before he was done pondering. This time he looked not only at Tom but also at his cousins. The one whose turn was next had a drunken grin on his face and miffed twice before hitting the cue ball.

The other’s voice was slightly slurred. His ties hung at an odd angle. He was obviously as drunk as the other or well on his way there. Tom for all his trembling was a thousand times better held together.

Turning his attention back to the subject at hand, he studied his appearance on more time. His clothes were cleaned and freshly pressed. He shirt was of obvious quality, simply too large, however, it had that loved and well-worn look to it.

He suddenly noticed that the trembling fingers of his empty hand had the long elegant look that he’d seen time and time again over the years as they slid over Voyager’s helm. He watched as they flexed, never ceasing to move, he thought of all the times he’d seen Tom off duty.

The man rarely drank anything but synthahol and then the weakest variety. He had a hard time being still, especially when something was wrong, personally or professionally. Somehow, he just knew that he was seeing some of the fight Tom had gone through after Caldik Prime.

He’d half bet his life on the fact that this was his Tom Paris but for some reason he hesitated at calling out for the female Q. He sighed with regret as the image faded ad he caught one last glimpse of the familiar façade that he’d seen slowly disappear.

Chakotay stared at the blank screen for a moment. There was something…

There was a sound behind him. He whirled around thinking that Q had returned. Instead he saw once again Tom under the truck. He watched as the other man dropped the wrench he’d been using.

This wasn’t the same thing he’d seen last time. That Tom hadn’t been so clumsy, had he?

Chakotay smiled at the curse that followed. That sounded more like his Tom but still…

Finally, the last set took shape. He looked sadly upon the angry back. This was not his Tom. He’d seen a bitter and dejected man when he’d joined the Maquis but this was something that he knew was outside the realm of his universe.

Paris didn’t have a great track record with long-term relationships. Somehow, though, as he watched again the man read his rejection letter, he knew that this type of loss had never been visited upon him. He had seen Tom and B’Elanna and even his flirtations with the Delaneys and knew that the young man showed genuine affection and even deeper emotions for every one he attempted to fornicate with.

This was not the loss of a loved one. This was the loss of and obsession. He could see the madness in his eyes. The need for something to remove himself from life. The depression that he could see beginning to gather around him broke his heart. It showed him too much of his feelings about the “right Tom.” This was not him.

He sat down on his bed and began to think. His mind ran through his possibilities. He’d ruled out two of them, then three. Which one was it? The one so engrossed in his flying that he lost sight of all else or the one struggling to overcome his demons?

Chakotay sighed. He closed his eyes and visualized each Tom on either side of a glade. He placed his spirit guide in the middle and tried to picture which one the wolf would go to. He watched as the animal looked each over and then headed towards one end of the meadow.

He looked at the Tom that she’d chosen. Chakotay smiled. He’d have chosen the same one without her help. He knew which Tom was his.

His eyes opened slowly. Standing before him, Q smirked. “So you’ve picked?”

Chakotay nodded and opened his mouth to speak. But Q didn’t give him a chance. “I know which one you picked.”

Chakotay raised his eyebrow in response.

“I’m omnipotent, Commander. You picked the drunk.”

Chakotay’s arms crossed and he frowned at her. “So you know my answer. Do I get to go back to Voyager?”

Q smirked. “Q would be quite proud of his Chuckles. You did well. You may return to your ship.”

“Great.” Chakotay smiled widely and looked at her expectantly.

“No so fast, Commander. Aren’t you going to brag? Tell me how you knew.”

“I just did.”

“Don’t you know?”

Chakotay raised his eyebrows again. “I suppose you’re gonna tell me.”

Q sighed. “Really, you take all the fun out of being omnipotent.”

“I thought you liked straightforwardness.”

“Oh you are smart one. Very well. The reason you knew the right Tom…”

Q paused for dramatic effect. Chakotay thought it was slightly overdone.

“You and Tom are soulmates.” With that, Q placed her hands on his chest and pushed. He fell out of the air and landed on a bed.

The breath had been knocked out of him, but that didn’t make him unaware of the startled screech beside him. An instant later, he hit the floor with a thud and the sickening feeling that he’d broken something. The lights came on with a short.

“Chakotay! Are you okay?”

Before he could answer, he was pulled to his feet by his good arm, thankfully. From there the surprisingly strong Tom lugged him out into the halls and toward the turbo lift. He was too concerned with his broken shoulder to realize that he was in his birthday suit.

It came sharply to his attention, when he heard Harry Kim’s voice. “He didn’t disappear. You had him chained to your bed, huh Tom?”

With a glare and an embarrassed flush, he called for a site to site transport to sick bay.

Apparently, his return, naked in Tom’s bed had spread like wild fire around the ship. He’d gotten a lot of “Good to have you back, sir” and knew that the gossip would die down soon. Still he was plotting revenge. He just had to think of the perfect way to do it. If he could work it right, he might even turn it into more. He grinned slightly but hid it by looking down at his plate.

He so wanted something more. He’d been gone five weeks. In that time, the situation with Tom and B’Elanna had been taken care of. He’d taken to watching them again. From what he’d gathered, they were friends again but nothing more. In fact, she’d started seeing Vorik.

Tom, who’d just come in, had been, reportedly, not surprised. However, he hadn’t so much as flirted with anyone. His eyes narrowed as the looked over at the commander and saw the serious look on his face. Chakotay tried not to frown as the pilot made his way to his table. He wasn’t ready to talk to him. His spirit walk hadn’t given him any insight as to how to start a relationship with him.

“Chakotay, are you alright?”

He nodded but kept his eyes on his plate. How do you talk to someone you’ve just learned that you know better than anyone in the multi-verse?

“You’re angry about last night. I’m really sorry. I was just so excited that you were back and apparently well. How’s the shoulder?”

He raised his head. He stared into the blue eyes that were like no other and sighed. “I’m fine.”

He got a smile in return. “I’m going to get something to eat. Can I join you?”

He nodded. As he watched the object of his affections walk away, he found himself doing what he’d seen scores of women doing. He watched Tom’s butt. Mentally laughing at himself he slowly glanced around to see who else was “checking him out.”

He shook his head at his own foolishness. All that mattered was whether Tom was interested in him or not. He’d thought a lot about what the point of his Q experience was. Tuvok said “The Q are not a logical race.” Somehow he felt that his Q was benevolent. The whole thing was about getting him and Tom together.

“Well, duh. I knew you were a smart boy.”

His head whipped around. No one was behind him. He couldn’t help but smile and murmur, “You are omnipotent.”

He heard her laughter as Tom moved to join him with a plate full of… stuff. He smiled brightly at him. Why wait for revenge? Why not just go for it? “Tom, I’ve been wanting to ask you something.”

He paused, with a fork full of jiggling blue in midair. The little half grin on his face was rather endearing. “Okay.”

He couldn’t help the naughty grin that spread on his face. “If you had the opportunity, would you chain me to your bed for five weeks?”

Just then, Harry and B’Elanna came in. They headed over right away. “Tom, are you picking on Chakotay again?”

He shook his head. The surprised look in his eyes changed. Chakotay couldn’t interpret the odd gleam that took its place. “I have to get back to the bridge. Lunch is over.”

He hurried away. Harry and B’Elanna looked at him and frowned. “Was it something we said?”

He shook his head. He got up and patted Harry on the shoulder. “I think he’s just having a rough day.”

The minute he stepped out the door, he was shoved against the wall. Warm firm lips locked with his. One hand slipped behind him to grab his butt.

Tom stepped back. “Yeah. I’d chain you to my bed without a second thought.” He pinched the cheek he held in his hand. Then he walked away.

Chakotay smirked and followed him to the turbolift. Each man had large smiles as they exited onto the bridge. Unfortunately, the shift was long and boring, making the commander wish he’d taken the two days off he’d been offered.

Tom got off duty an hour before Chakotay. From the look on his face, he was up to something. What was running around in that pretty head?

Chakotay wondered if he hadn’t been too abrupt with Tom. He really hoped not. He really did not want to see his Q pissed off at him for this.

Finally, the shift was over. As he entered the turbolift, Chakotay thought about finding Tom but it had to be his choice. And besides, he hadn’t broken up with B’Elanna all that long ago.

Chakotay entered his quarters and frowned. The light was on in his bedroom. He moved to investigate, half-expecting Q to be there to yell at him.

What he didn’t expect was Tom Paris, with chains attached to his bed. He had to smile though. “I thought this was going to be in your quarters.”

The patented, arrogant Paris grin flashed. “Oh eventually. I thought you might be more comfortable easing into this on your home territory.”

He actually wanted to chain him? A lump formed in Chakotay’s throat. In the past when he’d been tied up it had always been lightly. Never anything he couldn’t get out of. He swallowed and watched Tom approach.

“I find the symbolism of the chains almost as sexy as I find you.”

Something in the voice stopped him from kicking Tom out.

“They’re binding. Like an enlightening kiss.”

To demonstrate, he took his mouth in a kiss that made him forget everyone he’d ever been with. Tom’s tongue teased and mapped his mouth like a man claiming something he’d been born with the right to own. All the while, his hands stripped Chakotay of his jacket.

“They’re strong and enduring. Like a sweet caress.”

Slowly, he eased his shirt off. He touched and tantalized every inch of exposed skin. A rough tongue slid across his shoulder and down the outside of one arm. As it slowly made its way over and between his fingers and then up the inside of his limb, Chakotay felt his upper body sensitize. His skin tightened, begging to be touched.

He moaned as his pants became painfully tight as Tom latched onto his nipple. His teeth gently teased, making him squirm.

“They’re hard to break and hard to forge. Like the trust it takes to wear them.”

His mouth was taken in another amazing kiss. He barely even felt his pants and underwear drop. There was a slight draft, but he ignored his as Tom’s hands slide over his hips and pulled him tightly against his jean-clad hips.

Felling an arousal equal to his own was like throwing oil on a fire. In the past, he’d always felt like his lovers were merely putting up with his sexual needs. He’d always been the one who was in control. He liked not being the one running the show.

Without thinking, he followed Tom’s urging to toe off his shoes and step way from his clothing. It didn’t take much to get Chakotay on the bed and the chains around his wrists.

“Best of all, they’re claiming. Like what you let me do here tonight.”

Chakotay looked up into Tom’s eyes and smiled. There was a flash of motion over his shoulder. It was Q, her dark eyes happy and giving him a thumbs up. He’d certainly gotten the more he’d wanted.

“Not yet, smart one, but soon.” She disappeared, taking her smirk with her. He chuckled. At Tom’s “what?” he replied, “Nothing, just happy.”

Tom kissed him softly, quickly. He rose from the bed. As he called for the computer to dim the lights, he set out to entertain is captive audience.

Slowly, he took off his shirt, sliding it up inch by beautiful inch. To Chakotay, it was hours getting to that mouth-watering view. Rippling muscles and just the right amount of hair added to the Tom appeal.

He turned away from the bed and did a little wiggle. He bent slightly, making his jeans skin-tight across his butt. “I saw you looking at me earlier. Does what you see make you hard?”

Chakotay managed a strangled groan. If he were any more aroused, he’d come. Much more teasing and all the work Tom had done would be wasted. Something had to give soon and it had better be Tom.

The blond looked over his shoulder. His eyes widened. “Wow. Is that for me?” He walked back to the bed, leaned down to blow across the head of Chakotay’s erection. “Down boy.”

DOWN BOY? “You’ve got to be kidding!”

Tom smiled. It sent a shiver of fear through Chakotay. What the hell had he gotten himself into? What if the Q was setting him up?

That thought alone was enough to deflate him. He looked up at the manacles on his wrists. He was so screwed and not in a nice way.

His thoughts fled and his fears receded a bit as Tom began to lick random patterns on his chest. The talented mouth moved downward but stopped shy of the once again eager cock.

“This won’t got any farther than you want it to. All you have to do is say ‘shoulder’ and I’ll stop.”

The fact that he’d just been given a safe word shook him. It lasted for all of a second as he watched Tom remove the rest of his clothes.

If Tom was impressed by Chakotay’s size, then Chakotay was floored at Tom’s. That couldn’t possibly be human. No wonder he complained about the uniforms so much to Harry.

“You like?”

Chakotay nodded stupidly as Tom joined him on the bed. He shifted the bound man’s legs so they met from knees to lips. He moaned around a talented tongue, at the feel of Tom’s erection rubbing against his own and his stomach. He did the same little wiggle he’d done earlier, earning him another loud groan.

His lips moved to nibble on Chakotay’s ear. After he worked his way around the rim, he turned to whisper into it, “I’d love to do a multitude of things to you while you are in this position, but it feels like you don’t want to wait. Maybe another time. Tell me if I’m going too fast.”

When he shook his head, Tom rose. He grabbed a bowl of scent oil from a bedside table. Chakotay spread his legs and Tom moved to settle between them.

As the blond just looked at him, the commander took a moment to review his situation. His lust-filled brain decided that waiting until the next day to worry about what he’d gotten himself into was a good plan. In fact, he was quite pleased with it. He just wished Tom would hurry up, even if the look on his face was sexy as hell.

Tom began by pouring a small amount of oil on the base of his erection. The feel of it made Chakotay squirm. The liquid was slowly massaged into his scrotum. His writhing motion pulled the chains taunt.

More oil was added. Tom slowly made his way lower. Chakotay sighed as finally one finger pressed into him. It worked inward gradually making him pant. Suddenly, it hooked slightly, hitting his prostate and making him scream.

As he begged, more oil and stretching, caressing fingers were added. He was getting dangerously near the edge when they were removed. He almost sobbed at the loss.

Tom emptied the bowl onto Chakotay’s stomach. He raised up on his knees and slowly rubbed himself against the slick flesh. His hand moved to play with Chakotay’s balls. He waited for the older man’s eyes to cross in pleasure, before using his other hand to scoop up more oil and finish coating his erection.

Quickly, he moved to kneel, pulling his lover up onto his thighs. An instant later he pressed into Chakotay. He was barely all the way in before the older man began to orgasm. He smiled at the look and fell of the convulsing body beneath him.

He wasted not time and raised Chakotay’s legs over his shoulders. He started with long slow thrusts, giving his lover time to recover and begin to rouse again. The tempo built as the other man began to participate more and more.

The safe word echoed through Chakotay’s head as the frighteningly intense pleasure swept over him, then doubled. Somewhere in the back of his mind was the thought that he wasn’t as young as he used to be and his heart might give out. That and all else left him as the universe exploded behind his eyes leaving him in darkness.

He missed Tom’s orgasm and the younger man cleaning him up, then unchaining him. However, the next morning when he awoke, snuggled next to him, he knew that no matter what he’d gotten himself into it was worthwhile.

After all, this was his pick out of any Tom, every Tom.

The End.