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Ultimately Malcolm knew it was up to him.
Right from the very beginning Jonathan had made it clear that he was interested in getting to know his armoury officer. There had been invitations to share meals in the captain’s mess and several attempts to encourage a closer arrangement. However Malcolm’s steadfast views about fraternizing with senior officers and the captain’s inability to initiate a relationship beyond the ones they had been assigned had stalled the possibility of anything happening between them for well over a year.
In fact it wasn’t until the incident with the Klingons and the captain’s subsequent rescue from Rura Penthe that Malcolm realised powers outside of their own had come very close to deciding their fates for them. It was a lot of responsibility and for a man not used to being the one making decisions he knew it was probably more a leap of faith than the actual act of courage that he called upon when he finally took matters into his own hands.
Waiting long enough for the ship to reach a safe distance and Jonathan to readjust to being back on board after weeks spent on the prison planet, Malcolm took care of the necessary preparations and then made his way to the captain’s cabin.
There was no point pretending he wasn’t nervous or hadn’t considered the prospect that he had misjudged Jonathan’s overtures. None of it made any difference though. They had very nearly been separated for the rest of their lives; to not ever being able to bridge the divide between them and Malcolm knew it was now or never. Of course even with his mind made up it did not stop his heart from pounding rapidly in his chest or the palms of his hands perspiring as the familiar voice called out for him to come in and the door slid open to admit him.
The smile Malcolm receives is unlike anything he could have of imagined considering how strenuous the last few days had been. It is warm and full of affection. Eyes that had been dimmed hours ago spark to life as he stepped forward; providing the necessary permission he needed to spur him on, scattering his thoughts and allowing the crossing of ground long thought impossible when the door closes behind him again.
Unmoved by the small sounds of surprise Jonathan makes, Malcolm manhandles him to his feet and positions him to his satisfaction, covering the captain’s lips with his own before he can lose his nerve. It is not the most practiced kiss, there is little technique, noses bump and teeth get in the way, still neither complains as eyes close and hands explore.
By the time the need to breathe forces them apart, both stand panting in the arms of the other. Any lingering concerns Malcolm might have had about Jonathan not wanting him are soundly put to rest, pushed to the furthermost corner of his conscious thought, out of sight and well and truly out of mind.
Heat prickles and spreads at the base of Malcolm’s spine as they stand together and he pulls back to look at the worn but much loved features of the man in front of him. They are still holding on to one another, hands gripping the other in much the way drowning men clutch at lifelines when they are thrown to them. The last few weeks had taken their toll on the captain of the Enterprise and for the first time in Malcolm’s memory Jonathan appeared vulnerable and he hazarded to guess, very much in need of the kind of care rarely afforded men in his position.
Most would shy away from the unspoken plea to have someone else take charge, but Malcolm Reed is not most men. Moistening dry lips he watches as Jonathan swallows hard, eyes beseeching, almost begging him to continue, to kiss him again. There is little doubt in Malcolm’s mind that it had been very long time since anyone had taken the time to find out exactly what captain Archer wanted, never mind what he needed. Even so the possibility that this night might stand alone and there would be no repeats of what had, and what Malcolm still hoped would transpire between them made little difference to him, he would not embark on a relationship, not matter its timespan, unsure of his place in it.
Letting go of one arm Malcolm raises a hand to Jonathan’s cheek, cupping it gently as he uses his thumb to trace the clear shape of Jonathan’s mouth. It is a simple gesture, but as expected lips part and fair lashes flutter closed.
“I can take care of you if that’s what you want?” Malcolm breathes; that he loves Jonathan, has loved from the very beginning remains unsaid, unnecessary, for the time being at least.
He is trembling now, not from the uncertainty he had felt coming here, but from his own growing desire. Having waited so long the need to take this to the next level seemed impossibly close and yet Malcolm knew it all hung on the knife edge of a single word.
Fortunately for both of them Jonathan seemed to be aware of his part in all of this.
“Please.” It is no more than a puff of air really, but Malcolm knows it covers everything that Jonathan needs him to understand.
Malcolm smiles and kisses him again. There is more finesse this time, but there is also still plenty of room for improvement. It doesn’t matter he decides because they have time now and even if it takes him the rest of his life he is going to make sure that Jonathan gets what he needs.
The end.