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Malcolm watched as Trip pulled the blue T-shirt up over his head and then dropped it somewhat carelessly onto the metal floor of the decon chamber. The armoury officer felt his heart leap into his throat as he took in the unintentionally sensual sight before him. He quickly averted his gaze from Trip's bare, tanned muscles and instead focused on getting his own shirt off. Once that was done and they were only standing in their boxers, the decon chamber switched on, dimming the lights and shining upon the two men with a soft blue glow. Malcolm felt his stomach churn when his attention went back to Trip.
The engineer was looking particularly attractive in this lighting. And then when Trip started to rub that antibiotic cream across his front, Malcolm had to look away again lest he do something he'd regret. Instead, he focused on applying that same cream to his own chest and arms, rubbing his skin thoroughly so that it could be absorbed into his body and work its magic. His attention was so fixated on making sure that all the balm was absorbed that the light touch of warm fingers dancing on his back made him startle.
"Sorry," Trip apologised quickly, pulling his hands away. "Didn't know how well you'd be able to reach back there." Malcolm inhaled softly, relaxing.
"It's fine, I just wasn't expecting it... if you could... uh, you know, for me." Malcolm gestured to the spot on his back where, flexible as he was, he couldn't quite reach. Not without dislocating something anyway.
"'Course," Trip murmured, almost quietly. Malcolm tried not to sigh in pleasure as he felt Trip's hands rubbing his back in slow, calculated motions. The touch was so wonderful however that the Brit couldn't help but close his eyes and let his head fall slightly forward. He figured he could allow himself that much. Trip's expert fingers made their way up to Malcolm's neck, which until that moment he didn't realise was knotted with tension. As the Southerner rubbed that spot gently, a soft groan escaped Malcolm's lips.
"Mal?" The armoury officer's eyes snapped open to attention as his mind speedily caught up with his body. And then he realised precisely what happened. His heart rate increased tenfold and all of a sudden it was a lot warmer in there.
Malcolm pulled away from Trip and turned to face the younger man, hoping that the dimness of the decon chamber would hide the shame burning across his cheeks. "Uh- umm, that should be good enough, Commander, thank you." Trip nodded, an expression of confusion written across his face. And... something else akin to... disappointment? It was Malcolm's turn to be confused. And then, in spite of himself, he felt a small flicker of hope. He took a step towards Trip and gently took the balm from his hand. "Would you like me to do you?" Malcolm asked, mentally cringing at the uncertainty in his voice.
"Sure." Trip gave the smaller man a final glance of puzzlement before turning around. Malcolm scooped a dab of cream onto his fingers and then proceeded to rub it across Trip's back and shoulders, revelling in the smoothness of the Southerner's strong muscles. Under the somewhat romantic blue light, with the dampness of either sweat or balm or both, Trip's strong muscular frame seemed to literally glow- making Malcolm's stomach perform a couple of somersaults, among other things.
The engineer was a little stiff at first, but relaxed into the touch after a few seconds. Malcolm allowed himself another small flicker of hope. He slowed the motions of his hand on Trip's back slightly, now less focused on applying the balm and more so on seeing what Trip would do. The engineer either didn't seem to notice or ignored the change. Either way, Malcolm wasn't quite done yet. He placed his hand at an angle on the small of Trip's back, right on the centre of his spine, and moved said hand upwards towards his neck. That was when the Southerner whipped around to face Malcolm, a hint of anger in his eyes.
Startled by the change in Trip's demeanor, Malcolm stepped back slightly. The accusing look in the engineer's eyes stung deeply and Malcolm let his hope fade. Trip's look of disappointment wasn't because of reciprocating Malcolm's feelings- it was clear now the engineer didn't feel that way about him. It was because Trip couldn't believe that Malcolm would ever have those feelings about a superior officer.
"I'm sorry," Malcolm said stiffly, straightening up. He didn't dare look into Trip's eyes lest he see that accusing look again. "I think that should be enough of the cream." The armoury officer turned away and picked up the lid off a bench and proceeded to screw it on, trying not to let his disappointment at his friend's reaction show.
"Malcolm?" There was something in Trip's voice Malcolm couldn't identify.
"Yes, sir?" Malcolm still didn't look at him. Suddenly Trip's hand was on his, stopping him from completely closing the container. The Brit bit his lip, desperately trying to bury the tumultuous emotions that Trip's touch brought.
"Mal, look at me." Malcolm sighed and lifted his head. There was an unrecognisable emotion in Trip's expressive blue eyes. The Southerner stepped closer to Malcolm, only stopping when they were inches apart. Malcolm shuddered slightly as he felt Trip's body heat radiating onto him. The engineer removed the container of balm from the armoury officer's grasp and set it back on the bench. Then their eyes met again.
Trip's fingers reached up and slid across Malcolm's shoulder cautiously. Malcolm couldn't help himself. He leaned into the touch and closed his eyes, humming softly. The warm fingers then trailed up the Brit's neck and stopped at the bottom of his chin. Malcolm's breath hitched. The next thing he knew, his hands were latched on Trip's hips, pulling him closer. Trip's hand gently tilted Malcolm's chin just a tiny bit more. Malcolm opened his eyes slightly to look up at the Southerner. "... Trip..."
"Yeah, Mal?" Trip was so close now that Malcolm could feel puffs of warm breath upon his face.
"I... well..." For the first time in a while, the armoury officer was at a loss for words. He swallowed hard, gathering his wits and finally blurted the words that he couldn't hold back any longer, the words he always wanted to say but never had the courage to until this moment. "Kiss me, Trip."
In less than a second, Trip had locked lips with him. Trip's mouth moved quickly with experience, while Malcolm's movements were somewhat slower and more awkward. Unlike the Commander, Malcolm had a lot less experience kissing. Which was rather ironic, considering Trip was younger than him- even if it was only by a few years. Trip seemed to notice and slowed down so Malcolm could adjust.
Meanwhile, Malcolm's mind was on high tactical alert. In spite of the seemingly passionate activity he and Trip were currently occupied in, there still an inkling of doubt ringing in the back of the armoury officer's head. For all Malcolm knew, that inkling reasoned, Trip could merely be indulging him to get these feelings out of his system. The Brit instantly buried that notion and abandoned his restraint, wrapping his arms around Trip's shoulders and deepening the kiss further.
Even if the engineer believed he was simply indulging one of Malcolm's fantasies, it was far too late for Malcolm to fight the emotions currently assaulting him. The dam was broken. He was head over heels in love Commander Charles Tucker the Third, and nothing was ever going to change that. Just as he thought this, Trip broke the kiss and pulled away slightly.
For a moment, Malcolm was afraid that this was going to be the end of it- and even the end of their friendship (a terrifying thought that wriggled into his head before he could blow it up with a mental spacial torpedo)- when Trip asked hesitantly, "This is real... right?" There was a hint of fear in his voice, the same hint of fear that the man in his arms had been feeling just moments ago.
Malcolm lifted his hands to cup the sides of Trip's face, thumbs gently stroking the engineer's high cheekbones. "What do you think?" He didn't bother waiting for an answer, instead diving in for another kiss.
When Malcolm finally pulled away for the both of them to get some air, Trip asked with a grin, "So... my quarters tonight, twenty-one hundred hours?" Malcolm smiled back at the Southerner.
"It's a date."
~Fin~