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Usually, the climate in the interior of the Starship Enterprise was kept at a comfortable, moderate temperature. Low humidity, refreshed air, and a lack of dust made the ship a nice respite from the unknown environments of all the planets they explore. However, this particular week, the environment had its usual pleasantness stripped away.
According to Trip, the environmental controls flipped out and it's taking a couple days to repair. According to the gossip, however, the Captain asked Trip to convert Cargo Bay 3 into a pool to give the crew more amenities. In their attempts, the team of engineers that were assigned to the project messed up the plumbing system in the process, which messed with humidity control, which messed up all the environmental systems. The ship was nearly inhospitable.
After a long day standing on the bridge, Malcolm practically tore off his sweat-soaked jumpsuit. Another day of repairs was the estimate. He could persevere through the heat. Captain Archer had allowed staff to wear those desert away uniforms, but Malcolm never felt quite comfortable with that idea. He'd rather look professional, and those jumpsuits could take the sweat.
If he didn't use any hot water, his shower would be cold. That wasn't his usual style: a warm shower after a hard day was more pleasant. But on a day like this, the colder, the better.
Malcolm had already stripped and turned on the water when he noticed a large, brown blotch on the ceiling.
"What the hell..."
The thing became clearer as Malcolm walked closer. It was large and brown. It had eight furry legs, and a black abdomen. Malcolm could see it staring at his soul through its eight tiny, red eyes.
Time sped up- or slowed down. Energy coursed through his veins. Eyes widened, arms and legs froze solid. The beast was too large to defeat- almost the size of his palm. He would be overpowered: if not physically, then mentally. The idea of running was appealing.
Malcolm slowly made moves towards the door. The spider started shifting left and right on its legs, then it skittered a little ways across the wall. That prompted Malcolm to run til the door closed.
The adrenaline slowed, Malcolm breathed heavily. Taking account of his situation: he was still sweaty and miserable. He couldn't go back in there- he would be dead in 5 minutes. There was only one other option: dressed in enough clothes to walk through the ship and armed with a set of pajamas, he set off down the hall outside his quarters. Mission? Find a safe shower.
His first thought was the gym showers, three decks up. His tired mind and body willed him to move as little as possible: asking to use a shower closer to his own seemed much easier, and eight doors down were the quarters of Commander Tucker. Surely Trip would be willing to let him borrow his bathroom.
-----
"Come in." Trip called from inside his room. Malcolm walked in gingerly, taking in the scene. Trip's quarters were more messy than his own. The Commander himself sat understandably shirtless watching an old black and white movie.
"Hey Malcolm, you need somethin?" Malcolm stood awkwardly in front of the door.
"Could I use your shower?"
"If you want to, sure. Is there somethin' wrong with yours?"
"Um, no."
"Y'sure? I could have an engineer up there in 10 minutes if you need."
"No, thank you."
"Alright then, have a nice shower." Trip turned his attention to his movie.
Malcolm went into his friend's bathroom, then inspected the wall for more spiders. One can never be too careful in situations like these. Once satisfied there were no spiders present, he stripped and turned on the cold water.
The icy water burned as it hit his skin, but soon the heat that permeated his body was replaced with the comforting cold.
-----
Invigorated by the cold, Malcolm showered quickly. The heat came back as soon as the water was turned off, so he forewent the pajama shirt and left the bathroom after changing.
Trip seemed half-asleep: he was sprawled out on his bed, eyes closing and opening slowly, with the black and white movie still playing.
"How was your shower?" Trip asked with a groggy voice.
"Fine"
"Just fine? When I took one a them earlier it was heaven. If there weren't water rations right now I'd've been in there with you."
Malcolm pretended not to be slightly interested in that idea. "It was good."
"Good. Are you off now?"
Oh yeah, these weren't his quarters. In his quarters there was a beast, one making him freeze up right now at just the thought! Please say something.
"Uh, do you think I could stay here tonight?"
"Really? I mean, sure, but why? Somethin' wrong with your room?"
There was no need to tell him about the spider. "No, I just, uh, thought It would be fun."
"Hm, alright, but it's BYOSB: Bring Your Own Sleeping Bag. This bed doesn't have enough room for the two of us, not in this heat." Malcolm had to pretend to not be slightly upset at that.
"Alright." Malcolm left his friend's quarters and proceeded on his own. It was just his bedroom, he wouldn't have to face the monster there. Or would he?
He made it to his quarters' door and took a deep breath. The spider probably hadn't moved. He would live.
He stuck his head in first to check. No spiders anywhere, not that he could discern anyway. He went to the cabinet where he kept away mission supplies and opened the compartment where his sleeping bag was.
After looking inside, he jumped back. The spider was right on top of his sleeping bag, staring directly at him! Malcolm felt his mouth dry up, his eyes pop. He had to run.
He narrowly escaped to Trip's quarters. It was only when the door was sufficiently shut that he allowed himself to calm down.
-----
"Malcolm, what's wrong? Y'look like you've just seen a ghost!" Trip approached and put his hand on Malcolm's shoulder.
"It's... it's nothing." There was no need to share his fear with anyone. "Just, uh, wanted to get back here quick."
"Bullshit, somethin's got you scared. Is there an intruder? Do we need to go to the captain?"
"NO. No. No captain. It's fine."
Trip then took both of Malcolm's hands in his. "Okay, that's fine. It's clearly not somethin' y'wanna talk about. Can I do anything to help?"
"Just let me stay here tonight, I don't want to go back there."
"Alright. Y'can use my sleeping bag, or I guess we can share a bed, if we use different blankets."
"That would be fine."
"Alright."
Malcolm sat on a chair and took some deep breaths. His image was one of strength and fearlessness. He thought it would be easy to maintain, seeing as they would encounter few oceans or spiders in space. Clearly he was wrong: bugs get everywhere. At least the only person seeing him like this was Trip, and he seemed to be taking it fine. He was actually trying to take care of him, which isn't something Malcolm was used to. It was a nice feeling.
"Here's mine, and here's yours:" Malcolm caught a flying cooling blanket. Trip, who had one of his own, was headed to the bed. "Get in, it's time to sleep."
Trip got in first, on top of his regular blankets and sheets, and snuggled into the cooling blanket and against the wall. Malcolm followed, and tried to keep a bit of space between them in the small bed, as much as he was tempted to close it.
The lights had already been turned off, and Trip was silently breathing behind him. He looked at the window into space. Stars were flying past at warp speed, he was so far away from Earth, and yet that hideous creature could still take over his room. It was sad, really, how such a silly fear could get him like this: desperate for protection when he was supposed to be the ship's protector.
Even if he didn't particularly want to be here, he felt safe with Trip. In a time of terror, Trip was the brave knight standing between him and the monster. In a moment of panic, Trip was the comfort he needed. Malcolm felt Trip's quiet breaths on the back of his head. He was safe here, for the moment.
-----
Still unaccustomed to the heat, and with thoughts of spiders lurking in the room's dark corners, Malcolm struggled to sleep. He had tried every position he could in the space he had: back, stomach, right side, left side, blanket, no blanket. Nothing was comfortable. By now, he was facing Trip, who had been fast asleep for maybe an hour. He had been moving around, too: left side, right side, back, then right side again.
Malcolm got a good look at his face. It was content, though somewhat contorted where his face met the pillow. His mouth was slightly open, but he wasn't drooling or snoring. He seemed peaceful.
Malcolm shifted back to his right side, facing away from his friend. If only he could find the same peace Trip had. He closed his eyes and tried to breathe, but was rudely interrupted when an arm came snaking around his torso.
Heart racing, room suddenly getting even hotter, but any lingering arachnophobia escaping his mind, Malcolm's eyes shot open. What does one do here? Push him off? Slink away?...Lean in? The surprise wore off as Malcolm wondered, which helped him find that Trip's arm was actually very comfortable. Despite the heat, he took the last option and leaned into the cuddle. He shut his eyes again and tried not to think too much.
He failed. He couldn't get his mind off the feeling of being held. He didn't mind the extra heat. He imagined that Trip would lean in and kiss the back of his head, and hold him tighter. He imagined turning around to face Trip and being brought into a warm kiss. He imagined being on top of Trip, running hands down his toned chest and abdomen. He imagined going to sleep and waking up in Trip's arms every day.
Malcolm knew what this all meant, but chose to set aside personal revelations for later. He let the fantasies lull him to sleep.
-----
Malcolm woke up surrounded by limbs.
He remembered the arm thing, Trip's arm was still holding his body, but now there was a leg on top of both of his. All of these were, mostly, on the other side of at least one blanket, but Trip's hand on the arm around him was not: it was touching Malcolm's bare chest. He willed himself not to think about it too much as he figured out a plan of action.
The clock on Trip's desk said 0523 hours, just over 30 minutes before his shift started. He tried to shift away out of Trip's hold, but the man held onto him tighter in retaliation.
"mmmm Don' leave..." Trip mumbled in his sleep.
"I need to get ready, Commander."
"Mmmmm" Trip's leg now wrapped around one of Malcolm's. Now he really couldn't get out.
"Trip I need to work."
"Mmmmm...no.."
Malcolm attempted again to pry himself from the hold of his friend. He still failed, but the movements woke Trip up.
"Oh God, um..." Trip peeled himself off of Malcolm after realizing who was in bed with him. "I'm so sorry, Malcolm, uh, I get real cuddly in my sleep..."
"It's okay, Trip." He got up off the bed and went to find his Uniform among his belongings. He could feel Trip's gaze burning his bare back.
"I, uh, didn't mean anythin' by it, it's just... habit."
"It's okay." Malcolm was struggling to find his pips- the clean uniform he brought didn't have any on it. Oh no...
Malcolm froze at the realization: He had to go to his room and get the pips from yesterday's uniform. The spider would surely be there, ready to strike the moment he opened the door.
"Malcolm, you okay?" Apparently Trip had picked up on the change. "What's wrong?"
"I need to go to my quarters."
"Is that all? 'Cause you just froze up like a deer in headlights. What's wrong with your room that you're so scared of it?"
"I..."
Trip waited a while for an answer, but Malcolm had nothing to give him. "Why don't I go with you?"
Malcolm slowly nodded. Trip protected him last night, he could protect him again.
-----
When the two made it to Malcolm's quarters, Trip peeked his head in first to assess the danger. He gave the all clear and both men made their way inside. Malcolm stayed by the door, nervously scanning the room for evidence of arachnids.
"What is it you needed?"
"My pips."
"Where are they?"
Malcolm pointed to the dirty uniform on the floor. Trip kneeled to retrieve the pips when he halted.
"Hey there, little guy. Are you one of Phlox's pets?" He stood up and held out his arm for Malcolm to see. "This little spider was cuddled up in your uniform."
Malcolm stiffened, and made a small, almost squeal-like, noise. Trip must've noticed because he withdrew his arm immediately.
"Are you alright, Malcolm?"
"Y- you got the... spider..."
"Yeah, I-" In a moment of realization, his eyes widened. "You're afraid of spiders. That's why you came to me last night."
Malcolm nodded.
"Well, no need to worry anymore, I'll take this little guy to Phlox and he'll be outta your hair."
"Thanks."
"No problem. I'll see you later."
Trip left the room talking to the spider in his hand, leaving Malcolm alone in the, hopefully, empty room. He picked his pips off the old uniform and threw it in a laundry bin.
-----
Later that day, Malcolm and Trip met for lunch. The engineers had finally fixed the environmental controls, and had actually treated the ship to a little extra aircon after the whole fiasco.
"... so I had to manually scrub every single filter myself before we could even try to get the AC on. Sometimes this job feels a lot like hell."
"I get that. I don't say it, but sometimes I can't stand some of those Ensigns. It's not like they're bad at their job, they just can't take anything serious."
"I know whatcha mean." Trip took a bite of his food and looked out the window at space. "You never told me you were an arachnophobe."
"Hasn't come up."
"Well if you'd told me last night I would've taken care of it. Then you wouldn't have had to deal with my uh... affections."
"Trip, if I'd had any issue with your 'affections' I would've left long before you woke up. It was actually kind of... helpful."
"Helpful? Well, anytime, then."
"You know," Malcolm looked intently in Trip's eyes. "I'm still a little scared there might be more spiders in my room."
"You need me to investigate?"
"Maybe... but I'd rather just stay in your bed again tonight."
Trip smirked. "You're always welcome."