Summary: Trip is working on the bridge. Archer is watching.
Notes: When I get into a fandom, one of the things I do is make a clip tape of my favorite scenes. This story is a result of immersing myself in Enterprise most of the last two days. I'm working on a post-ep fic more in keeping with the challenge I issued on enterpriseslash, but this demanded attention first.
Given a few comments about former relationships and the mention of Natalie in Silent Enemy, the idea of Archer and Trip being lovers for years is probably a mild-AU. Heck, one of them will probably turn out to have been married pre-Broken Bow by the time the series ends. In any case, the two of them come off to me like an established couple, so I'm ignoring the het moments and writing them that way.
Some days it was easy to be the Captain. Those were the days when the demands of the mission pushed everything else aside, when he either kept his focus or a host of things could go wrong. Sometimes with even fatal results.
Then there were the days when nothing much was happening as the Enterprise made its way from point A to point B. Oh, there was work enough to be done, but nothing that required his absolute attention. System overhauls, upgrades, the usual tedium of paperwork even if true paper hadn't been used for decades, combined with a host of other things to keep Jonathan Archer and his crew busy. But his mind did have time to wander.
Even then he was a Starfleet officer and discipline was second nature to him. Most of the time. But officer or not, captain or otherwise, he was still a man and some days, well some days were harder than others. They almost always coincided with the days his Chief Engineer decided to work on the bridge.
As far as Archer was concerned, Commander Charles Tucker III was the best damned engineer in Starfleet. Command agreed with him enough to make Trip the chief engineer of the Enterprise. But his relationship with the captain made certain he would have been aboard the ship even if he were a foul up not fit to do more than take Archer's dog for a walk. Days like this, Archer had reason to wish for such an incompetent crewman, because such a person would never set foot on his bridge.
But Trip was the best and when work needed to be done on the bridge, he saw to it himself. A good thing. Really. When thing went wrong, Archer had no qualms about relying on systems given Trip's personal attention. He simply appreciated it more when he had something to occupy his own attention. Today wasn't one of those easy days.
Today he was mostly bored and he couldn't help noticing things. Like how the lighting of the bridge glinted in the natural highlights in Trips dark blond hair. Or the way the uniform hugged his broad shoulders, his narrow waist and the sweet curve of his ass. Trip's beautiful ass. *Couldn't help noticin' how fond you are of lookin' at my backside. Care to invite me in and do somethin' about it?*
Archer shook himself away from the memory and tried to concentrate on the datapad in his hand, but the distraction lasted less than a minute, his glaze stealing back to long tapered fingers moving over components. *I'm an engineer, Jon. Of course I'm good with my hands.*
Heat surged within him at the memory of what had followed, and, not for the first time, Archer had reason to curse the snugness of his uniform. While there was no regulation against it, he had always made it a personal policy to never man his duty station with an erection spoiling the line of his inseam. 'Damnit, Trip, how long does it take to swap out a few microchips?'
His eyes narrowed. Not this long. The rotten son of a bitch was doing this on purpose and was unlikely to stop until the growing bulge between Archer's legs turned into a major source of embarrassment. Well, never let it be said that he didn't know when to surrender "T'Pol, I'll be in my quarters," he told his Vulcan science officer. "You have the bridge." He got up and walked toward the turbolift, then stopped. "Commander Tucker, I want a word with you when you've finished here."
"Yes, sir."
Archer sighed with relief when the doors closed, cutting him off from the sight of Trip bent over a console. It was how he'd captured Archer's attention five minutes after they'd met eight years ago. Some days Archer could resist the temptation or at least he could let maturity of the mind and body cool the fires within him long enough to get through the day, but other days the heat burned as brightly as it had eight years ago.
Porthos hurried over to him the moment he entered his quarters. He smiled and scratched the beagle's ears. "No," he gently chided his pet as the velvet nose nuzzled his hands. "You know what the doctor said about you and cheese."
A mournful look answered him. Or at least that's what it looked like to Archer, but he couldn't let both of his guys manipulate him. "You're going to have to settle for this," he said, pulling a rawhide treat out of a sealed container.
Porthos took it eagerly enough, and Archer smiled as the dog jumped up onto the sofa to pay his treat the attention it deserved.
The door opened and Trip stepped in. He hadn't even waited the usual ten minutes. Apparently Archer wasn't the only one on fire today. "Now that's one happy dog."
"Hmm, too bad you aren't as easy to deal with."
"Oh, I dunno, Cap'n," he answered, heeling off his right boot. "Give me a bone to chew on and I'll be putty in your hands, too."
Archer grabbed him before he could get the second boot off. Trip would have laughed, but Archer made a point of getting his tongue into his lover's mouth before he could make a sound. Given Trip had spent the past hour making certain Archer was in full alpha mode, it didn't surprise him when the younger man positively melted into both the kiss and the embrace.
The whimper of protest when Archer drew back was equally expected. "God, you drive me insane," Archer whispered against his lips.
"Less talk, more ravishin'," Trip answered, nudging the bulge in his uniform against Archer's.
He grinned, then licked the tip of Trip's distinctive nose. "You're beautiful when you beg."
Trip scowled at him, forcing him to suppress yet another grin.
When Archer was with Trip, he always wanted to laugh at the shear joy of being alive. Flattering most of the time, but Trip obviously found it a touch annoying when he wanted to play 'appease the angry captain.'
To make up for his slip, Archer kissed him. Hard. Then he shoved him toward the bed. "Strip. Now," he ordered.
"Yes, sir." Voice soft, cheeks flushed, eyes sparkling before they lowered almost demurely. The second boot and sock came off, then the jumpsuit. The current Starfleet uniform might not hide much, but at least it came off quickly enough. Within seconds, Trip stood before him in all his naked glory. And glorious was the word for it.
Archer bit his lip to keep from coming at the very sight of him. "On the bed, Trip, face down," he choked out, yanking his own zipper down. His cock sprang free, driving any thought of sparing more time to undress and he snatched the lube from the bedside drawer.
Well experienced with the delicious body displayed for him, he knew exactly how much time to take to prepare Trip, then shoved inside him with the almost brutal force they both craved.
A hard pounding rhythm made the bed shake and Trip shout his enthusiasm with each stroke. Too hard, too much. Couldn't last. His hands closed around Trip's wrists, pinning them to the bed as he pumped his seed deep into his lover's bowls.
Gasping he fell against the broad back beneath him, then bit down into a smooth shoulder. "Jon!" Trip shouted, his own climax pulsing onto their bed.
It took a moment for him to recover, but when he found he could move again, Archer wrapped his arms around Trip, then rolled, pulling his lover away from the wet spot and over him. His hands rubbed soothing the trembling man, while his mouth nibbled on sweat-damp hair.
"Damn, Jon, that was good," Trip murmured against his chest. "Love it when I get you so hot you forget to strip down." He chuckled. "Reminds me of the first time we did this."
"Hmm, still haven't forgiven you for that ya know."
"And here I thought I'd given a memorable performance."
"Braggart," Trip scolded, then nipped his chest. "Nah, you were great all right, but you made us wait a whole ten hours before you did anythin' about the sparks flyin' between us."
"Don't remind me," he groaned. The ten hours between meeting and bedding Trip had to have been the longest day of his life. "Protocol, Trip. I couldn't jump you in front of the rest of the team. Besides -"
"Yeah, I know. A superior officer can't make the first move. Damned inconvenient, though."
Archer smiled. "True, but I have many fond moments remembering your idea of a first move."
"Hmm? What I do?"
"More a matter of said than did. ' Couldn't help noticin' how fond you are of lookin' at my backside. Care to invite me in and do somethin' about it?' Remember?"
A chuckle answered him, then, "Yeah. Sure inspired you."
Archer kissed him again. "That it did. Now are you going to behave yourself long enough for us to finish our watch or do I have to exile you to the cargo bay?"
"I'll be good," Trip promised, kissed him, then hoped out of the bed to get dressed. "But I'll be better tonight."
He laughed. "God, I love you."
"Feelin's mutual, Jon," he answered, taking all of a few scant seconds more to dress than he had to undress.
Archer got himself tucked back into his own uniform and across the room in time to stop Trip from leaving. One last, deep kiss to get them through their shift. "See you tonight, Commander."
Trip grinned. "And on that note I think I'd best spend the rest of the day in engineering," he said, then slipped out the door.
Archer waited a few moments, then left as well. He was still smiling when he walked onto the bridge.