Gigi Sinclair
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Gigi SinclairIn Search of PWPTitle: In Search of PWP Author: Gigi Sinclair E-mail: gigitrek@gmail.com Web site: https://www.angelfire.com/trek/gigislash Archive: Ask first. Pairing: Tucker/Reed Rating: NC-17, baby Disclaimer: Not mine. Yet, anyway. Notes: The third (and LAST!!!! I mean it this time!) in my PWP challenge responses. (The other two are "Getting Away from it All" and "Business Lunch.") Date: January 2003 |
Trip was in Engineering, bending down to examine a faulty coupling, when someone came in and slapped him on the ass.
He turned around, expecting to see the Captain, who had occasional flashes of football-buddy syndrome, or Phlox, wanting to try out a new human greeting ritual, or even T'Pol because, hey, he had a damn fine ass and Trip wouldn't have been surprised if even a Vulcan couldn't keep her hands off it. Instead, he saw Malcolm Reed, looking distinctly predatory.
"What the hell was that?" He glanced around, but Engineering was deserted. Which he thought was slightly odd, but not as odd as Malcolm's growled reply.
"I want to fuck you, Trip." Trip was not displeased, but he was a little surprised. Not that Malcolm hadn't said those words to him before, they just had never been preceded by "I want to".
"Come again?" Malcolm flicked his tongue over his lips.
"If you insist." After a brief moment of nervousness, Trip relaxed.
"Oh, I get it. You're having a bizarre allergic reaction to something." Malcolm shook his head.
"No."
"Hm." Trip considered this. "Drunk on Andorian ale?"
"I gave up drinking after Risa." Malcolm lunged towards Trip, pinning him against a bulkhead. "This is all me, Trip. Want a taste?"
"Has something happened with your dad?" Trip suggested. "Did he die, leaving you free to finally express your true sexuality?"
"I don't want to express my sexuality. I just want to fuck."
"Sure, darlin'," Trip agreed amiably. "I'd just like to know what brought this on." Malcolm flicked his eyes up and down, smiling.
"The sight of your body in that uniform."
"Hey," Trip looked around. "We aren't in any danger, are we? Is one or both of us about to die in wildly improbable circumstances?" Malcolm's smile wavered a little, but he soldiered on.
"No, Trip."
"And neither of us are in sickbay…"
"No. We're right here. Alone." Malcolm half-closed his eyes. "Your ass, my cock, your cock and my mouth. Where do you want to start?"
"How about with some emotional backstory? Something about how we're vastly different people but we complement each other well?" Malcolm shook his head. "You don't want to talk about how you wish you'd been the father of my baby back when I was pregnant?" Malcolm's expression told Trip just what he thought of that suggestion. "What about jealousy? Aren't you worried me and the captain have something going on?"
"I don't give a shit if you do."
"Ah!" Trip's eyes widened, and he smiled. "So that's it. Threesome issues!"
"Look, Trip." Malcolm stood up straight. "I'm really fucking horny, OK? And if you won't do something about it, I'll go find someone who will."
"Someone like Mayweather? Or the Captain?"
"Right now, I'd take Porthos." Trip sighed.
"You don't even want to get at least one of us some kind of kinky disguise?"
"Not unless you can do it in the next three seconds."
"Then I guess…" It was all the encouragement Malcolm needed. In a flash, he was on his knees, Trip's cock in his mouth. In embarrassingly short order, Trip was done, but that didn't keep him from thoroughly enjoying it when Malcolm bent him over the nearest console and fucked him senseless.
"Well? What do you think?" Trip looked at his lover of three years as Malcolm scrolled to the end of the document.
"I can see why you usually stick to technical writing." Trip sighed.
"And here I thought I was gonna be the next James Joyce."
"Nice to see you didn't over-exaggerate your stamina, though."
"Hey…"
"And I can't recall ever telling anyone I was 'really fucking horny.' But the bit about your damn fine ass was very realistic." To prove it, Malcolm put down the PADD and reached over to grab that very same ass.
"Does that mean you like it?" Trip asked, leaning into Malcolm.
"Oh, I'm a devoted fan. Of both the story and your ass." And he showed his artistic appreciation by putting his free arm around Trip's shoulders and drawing him into a long, deep kiss. "One thing, though, love." Malcolm panted, when they finally pulled away to breathe.
"Yeah?"
"It's not PWP." Trip pulled back, frowning.
"What! Why the hell not?"
"Emotions. Strong ones." Trip's frown eased and he kissed Malcolm softly on the cheek.
"Still?" Malcolm, giving a little sigh of satisfaction, nodded.
"Always."