New ground

By Alia - 20014

Disclaimer: These characters do not belong to me. Sadly Jon and Malcolm are the property of Paramount. I am just playing with them, and request you keep in mind that no disrespect or infringement to copyright is intended.

Summary: Where to from here.

Rated: PG for M/M content.

Warnings: Angst.

Authors Notes: This is story three in my ĎJudgementí series. Please keep in mind that it contains Australian spelling and is unbetaed. If you find a mistake, missing word etc., please feel free to point it out to me.

Comments: Are welcome and can be sent to


Long after the arrangement of limbs have been agreed on and the covers are drawn up to protect cooling bodies, Malcolm trailed lazy fingers down the middle of Jonathanís chest. Their earlier activities had left both sated beyond recent recollection. Jonathanís eyes were closed now and his jaw slack, but most telling was the even beat of his heart beneath Malcolmís splayed hand as it came to rest against Jonathanís breastbone. It was a stark contrast to the man Malcolm had encountered only a few hours ago and while he wanted to relish the sensation of Jonathan relaxing beside him, he wasnít sure if he should be rejoicing or preparing for the inevitable moment when he was asked to leave.

They hadnít discussed anything, or even spoken beyond his original offer to take care of Jonathan. The minimal exchange that had followed amounted to no more than what was necessary to ensure consent. There had been no declarations or promises made, and while Jonathan had been surprisingly vocal whilst they were making love, none of what he had articulated during those long minutes of passion could be construed as actual conversation.

Malcolm had no idea where that left them, what it meant exactly. He did know that he loved Jonathan more than he thought possible and he should just let himself enjoy the afterglow for as long as it lasted. Being with Jonathan had been too long coming to not at least acknowledge the gravity of what had occurred between them. Touching him was a unique pleasure and if this turned out to be the only time he was afforded this particular freedom then he wanted to savour it.

Dropping a kiss to Jonathanís shoulder Malcolm closed his eyes and let his hand travel lower to snake around the other manís waist, pulling him closer and inhaling the lingering air of sweat and sex still evident on his body.

He tells himself that it didnít matter what Jonathan decided. He was grateful, amazed at the level of trust bestowed on him tonight, proud that he had been able to be what Jonathan had needed -- strong when Jonathan hadnít been able to be.Still there was a part of Malcolm that wants more. He didnít want to just spend what remained of the night curled against Jonathanís side, counting the moments until his world was turned on its axis once more, he wanted to know if Jonathan returned his feelings and if he did, then Malcolm wanted to be welcomed here time and again.

Jonathan feels the shift, and notes the slight changes in Malcolmís breathing as he presses closer. His body warm, arms and legs fitting seamlessly with his own in the confined space. Itís been a long time since Jonathan had shared his bed. Longer still since it was with anyone who possessed his armoury officerís physical strength or remarkable understanding. He had spent so long believing that Malcolm just wasnít interested in him that he had almost forgotten what it was like to actually be with someone, or how powerful it could be.

Itís an incredible feeling, to have someone else decide what you need and then go about making sure you receive it. ††

Even now Malcolm was still taking care of him; affectionate and gentle in ways Jonathan had not expected him to be. To be honest he is not sure what he expected. Everything had happened so quickly that it is difficult to know what to think. Generally he considered himself a considerate lover, always taking care of his partner before looking to his own satisfaction, but there was something very liberating about being with Malcolm. Itís a dynamic he hadnít experienced very often and Jonathan feels himself colour some with the memory of Malcolm manhandling him, literally taking him a part piece by piece only to ensure that when it was over he was entirely whole again.

Itís enough to make Jonathan want to pull the covers up over his head, not to mention completely ignore the fact that Malcolm was his subordinate and while he hadnít been the one to initiate what had just occurred between them, any ongoing relationship would need to be reported. He knows he was getting ahead of himself. There was still the very real possibility that Malcolm would decide that this was a onetime only offer and taking care of his captain was not a role he wanted to repeat anytime soon. Discovering your commanding officer was as fallible as anyone else; that he was downright needy on occasion and he liked having his lover take control from time to time wasnít everyoneís idea of an ideal relationship after all.

Malcolm may not realise it, but he had accomplished a lot more than simply rescuing his captain from an alien planet, ultimately saving him from an early and agonising death. He had brought Jonathan home again given him the respite he had needed when no one else could.

Jonathan wants to let it all go for the time being, to enjoy what they have while it lasted and to not think about what will happen now that they had managed to quell the simmering heat between them.

Malcolm is moving again however, pulling away this time and Jonathan forces himself to open his eyes and look over at the man beside him. He knows he should say something, thank him perhaps, or ask if he is okay. The minimal lighting makes it difficult to see Malcolmís expression though and Jonathan pushes aside the uncertainty he feels and reaches out instead, stroking over his back as he withdraws even further to sit on the edge of the bed.

Straightening his shoulders Malcolm shivers as Jonathan touches him, silently adjusting his position and moving back a little as his would be lover rearranges his lower body so that his torso curves around Malcolmís rear. Jonathanís knees curled on one side and his head propped up on the other while long fingers trace an invisible line down Malcolmís spine, only deviating when he runs out of space to wrap his arm around hip.

The realisation that Jonathan wasnít ready to lose the physical connection between them is heartening and goes a long way toward arresting Malcolmís trepidation. He knows Jonathan had enjoyed what they had done, they both had, but he is still very quiet and Malcolm isnít sure what that means. He sighs, putting the questions he has to one side for the moment as he reaches down to lace his fingers with Jonathanís and then resettles them on the top of his bare leg. He had come here without really thinking about the consequences and then when he had faulted it had been Jonathan who had given him the strength to continue. There was no doubt that they were good together, could build on what they already had and create something if it was what they both wanted.

Malcolm knows a braver man would just speak his mind, but his bravado has diminished along with his confidence and he is going to need Jonathanís help with this if it is going to work. Glancing down at the man beside him Malcolm uses his free hand to stroke his cheek and card gently through his hair, marvelling at receptive Jonathan is. His face is only partially visible, but Malcolm knows he is watching him; a look of genuine appreciation shinning in his eyes -- of something that could easily be love, Malcolm thinks.

The thought that Jonathan might actually want to do this again fills him with a renewed sense of purpose and Malcolm shifts again, twisting on the side of the bed as he bends to kiss him. The angle is awkward and Malcolm knows it would be very easy to just move Jonathan to one side and then lay down with him for a second time to do this properly. They could make love again, pretend that there was no Starfleet, no mission, but he knows they canít. Both had responsibilities waiting for them and there was little point ignoring what could not be changed.

Pulling back Malcolm thumbs at the moist corner of Jonathanís mouth as he calmís his breathing; reminding himself that they had come too close to losing everything and they owed it to each other to be clear about what they wanted. Realising, as Jonathan reaches for him again, threatening to steal his resolve and once again draw him back to the very welcome warmth of his arms, that if need be, he could be strong enough for both of them.

ďWe should talk,Ē Malcolm tells him.


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