Not what you want.
Disclaimer: The characters of Jonathan Archer and Malcolm
Reed do not belong to me. They are only borrowed and will be returned
as soon as I have finished with them. No disrespect or breach of
copyright is intended.
Summary: We can't always get what we want but sometimes we
can have what we need. Malcolm gives Jon what he needs but will he
ever give Malcolm what he wants.
Warnings: Angst. M/M sex. If it bothers you then I strongly
suggest you don't read it.
Authors Notes: This is my first attempt in the Enterprise
Thanks: To Stormy, Helyn & PJ for checking this over
Comments: Are welcome and can be sent to firstname.lastname@example.org
With an animalistic groan of satisfaction and one final spine
shattering thrust I feel his climax overtake him and the liquid heat
of his release fill me. I close my eyes and welcome the weight of him
as he collapses, exhausted, against my back, enjoying while I can the
feel of him buried deep within me; being what he needs if not what he
For several minutes we both rest; joined as only two men can be
when they do not share the same heart, but all too quickly it seems I
hear his breathing level out and feel him withdrawing from my body.
The last of his warmth spills from me as he moves and I feel the loss
of him as one would the loss of a vital part of their being. But even
here, within the confines of his cabin and under these extraordinary
circumstances I know my place and I let it all happen without
Starfleet does not allow for couples or for the sharing of beds
and it is necessary to continually move to ensure each other's
comfort. I open my eyes and roll over as soon as I realise that Jon
is attempting to reposition himself at my side, tangling my limbs
with his so that we can both attain a level of ease given the limited
space. He stares at me in the dim light but after months of
incidences such as this I have come to understand how difficult it
can be for him to know what to say at this point.
We are not here to talk however and we both know he has Commander
Tucker or Sub Commander T'Pol if conversation was what he needed.
I press myself closer to him, my neglected erection silently
reminding him of the reason for this late night tryst and just how
unnecessary words are between us. Physical need is all that matters,
and our mutual satisfaction is all that concerns me - not what he
does or does not say to me.
My gesture prompts an equally silent acknowledgment of
understanding from him and as he cups the cheeks of my backside,
pulling me nearer to him I lean in to claim his mouth and push
forward with my hips, emphasising the very mutual element of our
As expected Jonathan Archer responds to me as he does every other
challenge that he has been faced with since we first met. With
passion and a sense of determination that epitomises the man he is
and which only serves to reinforce my reason for being here. It is
why I love him and why I know that no matter what happens he will see
us through it.
I revel in his strong arms and in the small sounds he makes as I
caress him. He is older than I am; much older than any other sexual
partner I have known, yet his body is muscular and well taken care
of. Always a pleasure to touch and manipulate. His stamina is also
high compared to many men half his age and he never ceases to amaze
me as to how receptive he is to this.
Despite Jon's obvious enthusiasm he winces as our movements
intensify but I know it is not because the feeling of my cock, hard
and demanding against his own is unwelcome or strange to him. No, his
discomfort is more from the strenuous work-out he has given us both.
The thought that even after all this time he still seeks to force
rather than to simply enjoy what we share saddens me but until he
decides otherwise there is little I can do to change the ideals of a
man who has spent a lifetime loving women. While I am permitted to
though, I will hold him tight, fuck his willing mouth and work myself
against him as I do now.
Jon urges me on; gripping my backside and meeting me thrust for
thrust but it quickly becomes apparent that the friction of our
bodies is too painful for him to gain even the smallest amount of
pleasure from it.
It is not what I want, and without a second thought to my needs I
pull away, quickly rearranging us both so that there is no further
discomfort for him.
"I'm sorry, Malcolm," he tells me as I settle him on his back. The
words are whispered low, hardly audible to anyone who might not be
paying close attention but I know they could be no less true if they
were shouted aloud to each and every member of the crew.
"It's okay," I assure him. "If it was what you needed then there
is no reason to apologize, love."
Right from the beginning he has never begrudged me my own release
and for comfort's sake I straddle Jon's thighs and then take myself
firmly in hand, stroking my length purposefully as I watch him lying
quietly beneath me. I am as content to finish this way as any other
but as I prefer an attentive, and not just a compliant partner I
reach up to remove the arm he has slung across his eyes.
Our gazes meet as I lift his hand away from his face and all the
various burdens he bears as Captain are laid open for me to see. It
is not a sight seen by many but it is why I am here, I remind myself.
Why I offered to give him what we all needed from time to time when
regulations would not permit him to ask for himself. We are both
aware it was not only my sense of duty that first brought me to his
cabin long after our shifts had ended though. I made no secret of my
feelings for him, or what I would accept in exchange. What I want
from him is another story however, one best left for my fantasies or
my nights alone I realise as I take in his serious expression.
I don't want to ask him if he would prefer that I left him alone
now, though the thought to do so occurs to me in the instant before
he reaches for me and draws me forward once more. I am forced to
release the hold I have on my cock to accommodate him but I am not
left wanting for long as his free hand quickly replaces my own.
With me kneeling over his prone body Jon kisses me soundly,
working with the same determination that I have always enjoyed in his
company to absolve himself for what I can imagine he perceives as a
momentary lapse of concentration. It is not necessary though. I
understand that until he is willing to let go of his misconceptions
about same sex relationships I can only hope to provide him with a
distraction. And he hadn't hurt me, even though it is clear his own
efforts to achieve a desired distance from his many responsibilities
He can't change who he is and even if it were possible I would not
want him to change for me. I know he does not love me. That I am not
what he wants, just the one who gives him what he needs. Knowing does
not stop me from wanting however, or from wishing that one-day he
will love me, not as he is now, with his hands and body but with his
Reaching between my legs, Jon uses the remaining evidence of his
release to ease my own. He works me with a knowing grasp and
whispering constant encouragement until I come hard, shooting my load
over his chest, moaning his name and praying for the moment never to
We shower separately. He does not thank me, nor do I thank him. He
has gotten what he needed and for a short time I have been the one to
give it to him. I cannot complain. It was all I asked of him. All he
is able to give right now. We exchange a last kiss at the door,
albeit chaste and then I leave.
Neither of us will talk about what has happened but as I make my
way back to my cabin I know there will be other visits to his. Other
times for him to consider that with the right amount of understanding
we could both have what we want and not just what we need.
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