Repressed Desires
Kathryn left the holodeck after the first feature ended. Truth to tell she hadn’t liked the picture much, would rather have spent her time in other pursuits, but the morale of the crew, the whole and entire crew, needed its leader present to ensure that everything was all right again.
Even if it wasn't.
The 3-D glasses hadn’t helped her headache, either. Less than a half an hour into the movie her temples had been throbbing and her eyelids fighting to close against the stream of two-dimensional images made larger than life, so to speak, by the aid of red and blue flimsy material that resembled plastic.
Coffee.
Coffee would help, she thought, upon reaching her quarters, the doors hissing shut and sealing her off, effectively, from the life of her ship. The liquid wouldn’t help her headache, but it would calm the jitters she was feeling, had been feeling ever since Chakotay’s little rebellion, little and rebellion being rather small words themselves for the fact she had almost ended up dead, her crew on some deserted, if M-class planet. Part of her wanted to snort; at least Chakotay was enough in command of his faculties to realize at the time and not beam them all into space, or leave them on some hell-hole wasteland.
The replicator whirred to life, producing a larger-than-usual mug, but under the circumstances she felt it was called for. Somehow, the liquid seemed hotter than usual, more bitter than called for, blazing a trail over her tongue, scalding it, making her gasp as it burned through her esophagus and down into her belly where it seemed to harden into a molten lump of lava, hardly cooling. The normal, comforting feeling such her vice usually brought her was hardly that, making her grimace, coughing once or twice. She was about to recycle it and call for something else – an iced latte, herbal tea, anything, anything to take away the stinging sensation in her mouth that was burning its way into her nose, making her sinuses itch, when her door chime rang.
“Come in,” she called.
The door slid aside to reveal Chakotay, and she instantly felt her knees go weak, a move that she covered by walking over to the recycler quickly. The last time they were almost alone, someone had been guarding both doors to her ready room while Tuvok held a phaser (supposedly) set on kill at her face. She wasn’t about to admit to anyone, least of all him, how scared it had made her.
“Hello,” he ventured quietly.
“Commander,” she managed, placing the cup into the recycler slowly. When the task was over, she was going to have to come up with a reasonable excuse as to why she wasn’t turning to face him. “Is something on your mind?”
“Slightly.” He remained standing awkwardly, though he had stepped in enough for the doors to close. “I don’t think I’ve had the chance to…apologize…at least not properly…”
“No apology necessary.” She cut him off. “You weren’t…yourself.”
“That’s an easy way to put it,” Chakotay acknowledged. She looked around at him for a moment. He did look as apologetic as one could get. The fact that he was stumbling over his words, trying not to irritate or set her off in any way possible, was testament to that. “Kathryn…”
Something in his words made her turn around and look at him, closely and fully look at him, something she hadn’t done since before the…incident. Dark shadows were under his eyes, regret in the chocolate-obsidian orbs creating more shadows in the irises. Despite his cheerful front on the holodeck, in front of the crew, something was still bothering him.
“Yes, Chakotay?” she finally asked.
He cut off whatever he was about to say, took a deep breath and strode over to her, looking over her shoulder at the cup on the recycler. “Coffee?” he asked.
“I…yes.”
“That won’t help your headache any.” He pulled a hypospray from his pocket. “But this will.”
“How did you know?” she asked, almost smiling, almost, as he held it up.
“You rubbed your temples when you left the holodeck, when the movie ended and you took off your glasses.” Chakotay answered softly. “May I?”
She acquiesed with a nod, pulling down her turtleneck and cocking her head slightly, giving him full access to the area on her neck where he pressed the hypospray, setting it down in the recycler along with her coffee cup and ordering the computer with a soft command to do its job. The items in question disappeared.
“Erasing evidence?” Kathryn asked before she thought, and wanted to slap herself for it. “I…I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.”
“I know,” he was still quiet, still standing extremely close, in fact too close to her. Please, she thought desperately, make him go away, make him go before he notices…
“You’re shaking,” Chakotay was gentle as he spoke the words she’d been dreading. “Anything you want to talk about?”
“No, not really,” she walked away from him on her own, willing her trembling knees to keep her upright as she stood at the viewports, watching the stars that went by.
“I realize that you probably don’t want to talk to me…I don’t blame you for it, after what happened…but you should talk to someone. I can call the doctor…B’Elanna, Seven…Tuvok?”
“No, no, no, and no.” She rubbed her temples again, despite the pain that was becoming nothing more than a dull ache. “There’s nothing to talk about.”
“Kathryn, you had a phaser pointed at you. Set on kill. By your security chief, no less, a man that you’ve known and trusted for years. That’s not something that happens every day.”
“The phaser was defective, Chakotay,” she said wryly.
“You didn’t know that at the time.”
“No kidding,” she snorted, then sighed, closing her eyes.
“I’m sorry,” Chakotay finally blurted out after a long moment of silence, holding his hands out in front of him, palm up, as if reaching for some form of forgiveness. “I could stand here all night and tell you that, as long as I could, if I thought it would make what happened go away.”
“It won’t appear on your record, if that’s what you’re worried about,” she began. “I managed to encrypt the log entry that you made when you were ‘in command’, I had B’Elanna isolate it and put in supplemental entries both from Tuvok and the doctor, plus statements from the rest of the Maquis…”
“I’m not worried about the log, damn it!” his restraint finally broke. “I’m worried about you. I’m worried that you’re going to have some sort of breakdown from this. I’m worried that if you bury it now, it’ll resurrect itself sometime, during some trade mission or shore leave. I’m worried…” the words stuck in his throat.
She turned to face him. “What, Chakotay?” she said. “Worried that I don’t trust you now? Worried that I don’t love you anymore?”
He blushed, and looked down at the deck. That he was that readable was embarrassing. “I didn’t know as you did in the first place.” He was quiet, trying desperately to be casual and just as desperately failing.
“If I didn’t, do you think I’d be standing here like this with you now?” she asked, now stretching her hands out as well. “Do you think it would hurt this badly, what you did, what happened, even though I know it wasn’t your fault, that some fanatical, insane Bajoran decided to use the only group of Maquis still known to exist for his own personal whims?”
She was practically screaming the last words. Chakotay stepped forward and caught her hands, which had begun to flail about, wrapping his arms around her, pinning her hands and holding her securely to his body, despite her struggling.
“It’s all right,” he said gently. She knew he was trying to calm her, trying to let the feelings of anger and betrayal run their course. “It’s all right – I’m right here. I’ll always be right here. God, Kathryn…if you only knew…”
“Knew what?” she whispered desperately, almost afraid of what the answer would be. Her knees trembled in anticipation.
Chakotay sighed deeply, filling his nostrils with her scent and blowing air over her, causing her body to tremble. He turned her in his arms, his hands sliding to cup her face, holding her securely, not allowing her to turn away. Instead of words, he kissed her.
A deep, searing, passionate kiss, one of lips and tongues, hearts and souls blending together. He tickled the top of her palate with his movement, she tickled his. His thumbs rubbed her soft cheeks, stopping when they felt a hot wetness begin to trickle over them, and pulled away to look at her fully.
“Kathryn…” he whispered breathlessly, moving to unfasten her uniform jacket. She reached for him, to do the same to his, and within minutes their clothing was divested. Completely bared to each other, he lowered her to the floor, keeping himself atop her small body, his legs parting over her waist to straddle on either side. His lips parted to trail down her neck, not neglecting the spot behind her ear that caused her to cry out and arch her back, pressing her front against his.
He gave ample attention to her rosebud nipples, the nubbins that had sprung erect and seemed to cry out for his attention as she gasped and writhed beneath him. He nibbled her shoulder blade, tongued down her smooth, soft skin to her breast, and suckled the bud into his mouth, bringing a gasp from her throat. Her hands clawed at his back, digging in fingernails that only served to heighten his passion, taking two fingers and rolling the opposite nipple between them, plucking and tickling it as he left her breast, slick from his mouth, to nudge around it with his nose.
She found herself unable to speak, unintelligible whimpers coming from her mouth, her body quivering. He hushed her with murmured sounds, whispering words of love into her ear, sounds that she couldn’t understand but that calmed her nevertheless. He kissed her sweat-dampened and flushed face, brushing her hair back from her forehead as her arms moved uselessly to either side of her head. His mouth traveled the line between her breasts, licking paths of sweat from her belly, then stopped to rest between her legs, blowing a thin stream of cool air through the downy curls. He watched with quiet amusement in his dark eyes as her body trembled, her head rising from the carpet to stare at him with more passion than she had ever thought possible of possessing at one time, with one man.
He kept her supported with the palms of his hands, her hips bucking against his lips as he tasted her fully, fingers cupping her buttocks and thumbs keeping her quivering folds spread. Again, she was his prisoner, she was in his control, something that she had declared would never happen again, but this time it was different. This time, she wanted him…she needed him, needed him to prove that he was not the man that had taken over her ship. He was not the man that had thrown her in the brig.
He was not the man that had threatened her life.
Mercilessly he held her in his grip for long moments as he gave himself to her with his tongue and fingers, slipping them inside her warmth, thrusting them in to the hilt and out to the tips, before leaving her fully despite her whimpers of protest to pull back slightly on her feminine hood, exposing the hardened nub begging for attention just as her nipples had, and pressed against it with his tongue, suckling the core of her pleasure centre, taking her to a shuddering, howling climax.
Gently he moved upwards, leaving her folds to tickle her quivering legs with his tongue, her entire body trembling as he licked around the joint of her hips and back to her belly, devouring the valley between her breasts, suckling on taut skin covered with a sheen of perspiration, branding her with his mouth before kissing her lips. She tasted herself on him, a combination of musk and tanginess, almost incoherent with want as his hands roamed over the skin that covered her body, the feeling that she could never in all eternity have enough of this man to satisfy her almost overwhelming.
He jerked involuntarily when she took him in her hands, her short fingers exploring the hardened, throbbing length of his manhood. Ironically, he was bigger than she had expected him to be. Under the backs of her fingers she caressed the muscles of his stomach, feeling the short hairs of the trail that led to the wiry patch of pubic hair. She caressed his scrotum, pulled a bit at the hair surrounding his genitals, and moved upwards, stroking his length, gasping as the thumb of the other deliberately circled the smooth head, finding the drops of moisture leaking there.
“See?” he whispered passionately, nuzzling at her, nipping her jaw, ignoring her soft whimpers, relishing the feel of her soft fingertips over the hardened surface of his rigid manhood. “It’s crying for you, Kathryn, only for you…it wants you…I want you…”
The rest melted away as he slid effortlessly into her folds. She clutched at him, burying her face in his shoulder, breathing through the sting that came with so many years of enforced chastity. He supported her, arm around her back holding her snugly against his burning skin, raised on one elbow over her, as she adjusted to his length and width, her muscles distending. Tears slid down both of their cheeks as he pushed in and out, pulsing, advancing and retreating from her in a way only known beforehand in her dreams and his, though neither dared mention it.
“You’re everything…everything I’ve ever wanted, Kathryn Janeway…you have every part of me, my heart, my soul, my body, it’s yours, yours and yours alone…I’ve wanted you forever…I love you…”
“Chakotay…” she whispered to him raggedly, gulping in air in the throes of her passion, her body unrecovered from the searing heat of her previous climax, kissing his shoulders and neck. Her arms wrapped around his back, drawing him closer, the overwhelming wish to be a part of him searing through her body as her legs wrapped around his waist.
He cut her off, claiming her mouth, not allowing her to speak again. She thought to tell him everything, that she loved him, that she wanted him to stay with her forever, by her side…and then realized that he already knew, reality crashing around her as she felt his thrusts, in time to the rocking of her hips which rose to meet him, bucking against him in smooth rhythmic motions, taking all of him inside, milking him, releasing him, only to repeat the process. His exertions took on a new tempo, and she knew that he was close to climax. Growling deep in his throat, he slipped his hand between them, again teasing her body into release, the desire in his eyes telling her to join him completely.
Her orgasm shattered her, shattered her mind and soul into pieces that soared with his. She felt his seed spurt into her womb, hot and wet, mingling with her own last climax, another gift from him thanks to his masterful touch on her core, a heat mixed with a residual moaning, guttural-sounding as his forehead rested against her neck, his breath a hot moistness over her breasts, and cried out with him as his hips shook in aftershocks.
He placed her down on the carpeting, thrusting gently now, pushing into her with desire only to bring them both down slowly from the plateau they had both attained, not willing to leave the view from the top of the mountain just yet. When he could last no longer, he rolled carefully to the carpet, kissing her lightly, open-mouth kisses on her mouth and cheeks which she returned, rubbing her shoulders and back as he eased her into an embrace, her head cradled against his chest.
Later, in her bed, enfolded in sheets and in each others arms, he took the opportunity to speak to her again, softly and gently, about what had happened. By agreement, it would be the last time save for an absolute emergency or crisis, as neither wanted to relive it ever again.
“I would never,” he made sure she was looking into his eyes for emphasis, cupping her chin in his hand, “hurt you. Ever.”
“But I have hurt you…” she responded, regret now flooding her body, tracing a dark, flat nipple with her fingers, her tongue following the path of her nail. “Keeping you away from me so long…letting you tell me a legend that spoke your desire and then ‘defining parameters’…”
“Hush,” he silenced her firmly, tucking her in his arms, her head pillowed on his chest, holding her tightly as though he was desperate to believe she was there at all. “We’re here now, and that’s all that matters. We’ll worry about tomorrow, tomorrow, and the day after it when it comes. Right this moment, I want to fall asleep with you here in my arms and wake up to your blue eyes being the first thing I see in the morning.”
“Sounds good to me,” she agreed, a tired smile spreading across her features, Chakotay brushing back hair from her forehead in gentle strokes. “Good night…”
“I love you Kathryn…” it was ethereal, bodiless, a soft whisper held with promise and longing.
“I love you too,” she whispered back, snuggling close against the body of her first officer, falling into a dark, dreamless slumber, taking pleasure in the fact that he watched over her, both in her sleep and as she slept.
He would watch over her forever.
And she loved him all the more for it.
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