Strong Enough

By Alia - 20015

Disclaimer: These characters do not belong to me. Sadly Jon and Malcolm are the property of Paramount. No disrespect or infringement to copyright is intended.

Summary: Jonathan continues to learn what it means to surrender.

Rated: NC 17 for M/M content.


Authors Notes: This is story is part of my ĎJudgementí series. Actually itís just an excuse to delve a little further into Jonathanís control issues. Dodgy dynamics. Smut. Please keep in mind that all my works of fiction contain Australian spelling and are unbetaed. If you find a mistake please feel free to point it out to me.

Comments: Are welcome at


It has been exactly four weeks since Jonathan was rescued from the Klingon prison planet of Rura Penthe and Malcolm had finally declared his feelings. 28 days, 672 hours and 40,320 minutes.

It had been a revelation for Jonathan to say the least. The circumstance surrounding that first time had awakened a side of himself that he had not experienced before, let alone explored, and understandably, he had his concerns. Allowing yourself to vulnerable once was very different to adopting the position as a lifestyle choice.

Perhaps it was sheer determination or something else entirely, but somehow the new arrangement between the captain of the Enterprise and his armoury officer had evolved into being more than just manageable. Their respective roles and responsibilities aside, they found time, as fleeting as it was sometimes, to explore their newly discovered intimacy; carefully building on what they had begun weeks earlier.

While not all of Jonathanís fears have been abated, watching Malcolm as he is now; slowly divesting himself of his uniform, his eyes twinkling with promise, Jonathan honestly doesnít know what he was thinking. That as captain he had no right to be happy, to be loved? Truly Malcolm was everything he ever wanted, loyal and loving. The fact that he is also almost ten years Jonathanís junior and a subordinate were elements that didnít even enter the equation when they are alone. There are other things of course, things that Jonathan had barely considered before Malcolm had taken control that first time, things that they were still learning to embrace.

Jonathan feels himself colour as he recalls the decidedly awkward conversations that had followed their first encounter, but itís not enough to make him look away from the display taking place only a few feet away. It is part of what they do after all, what Malcolm knows he enjoys.

Despite the obvious differences in their builds Malcolm Reed has spent years training, regularly practicing various forms of hand-to-hand combat, honing his physique and building his strength. He is far stronger than he looked and it is only when circumstances necessitate revealing the true nature of his physical abilities do they become evident.

His hands too, could be just as lethal as the weapons he uses and there have been countless occasions during the last couple of years when Jonathan has been very grateful to have him as an ally and not an adversary.

Jonathan is aware that Malcolmís physique and physical strength played a significate part in what originally drew him to the other man and yet it is only recently that he has allowed himself to acknowledge the fact. For Jonathan it has been more than a little disconcerting. Starfleet captains were chosen for their ability to make hard decisions and to lead, they are not meant to find the prospect of being dominated by their very attractive armoury officer arousing.

Clearly there is no better way to describe it though because as he watches Malcolm strip off the last item of clothing; absently dropping his Starfleet issued underwear on the floor at his feet and then step forward to stand before him, Jonathanís breath catches and need coils deep in his groin.

Gapping his knees only provides temporary relief and as he takes in the well-defined chest, flat abdomen and muscular thighs before reaching out to stroke over rounded hips heat rises and spreads throughout Jonathanís body.Similarly Malcolmís cock is filling and lengthening as Jonathan nuzzles against his warmth.

The uniqueness of Malcolmís scent evades Jonathanís sense as he moves over his loverís length; reminding him of their goal here, of the possibilities yet to be realised. The very thought of what Malcolm can do to him, will do to him given time and the necessary preparation is enough to make him colour again even though Jonathan knows he has no reason to feel ashamed.

He is safe, desired and most importantly understood.

While his current position demands for nothing less than worship Malcolmís appears to have other ideas as Jonathan notes a firm hand compelling him to move.

ďTurn around love.Ē

The hand on the captainís shoulder leaves no doubt to the other manís intentions and Jonathan knows that if there is anything he doesnít want, now is his time to speak up. Nothing comes to mind, but Jonathan is aware thatís because Malcolm is very patient with him and only asks for what he knows Jonathan can give.

He closes his eyes briefly then opens them again, breathing deeply. His heart is pounding in unison to the ache between his legs and without further hesitation he twists on the edge of the bed to take up the required position; hands raised obediently above his head. His final act of submission will come later, when Malcolm decides he is ready. Jonathanís tries not to think about what form it will take or that the other man has a way of stretching his limits without him even realising it until itís too late.

For the time being Jonathan can feel Malcolm moving with him. The pillow is removed and his knees are edged apart. The lighting in the captainís cabin is reduced to one quarter and both sets of eyes slowly adjust to the new setting.Warm breath on the back of Jonathanís neck and soft lips trail the length of his spine as perspiration forms in his loverís wake. Firm hands coaxing him to relax and accept while blunt fingers explore and finally penetrate.The first intrusion always takes Jonathan back, shocking the air from his lungs, leaving him shaking. Not because Malcolm isnít careful, but because he is, infinitely so. The realisation of which brings tears to Jonathanís eyes and he knows he is lost, that there isnít anything he wouldnít give this mans.

Malcolm is first and foremost a Starfleet officer and what might be thought of as preamble is in fact a planned attack and Jonathan knows nothing, short of calling a stop to this will halt the very deliberate assault of his inhibitions.

Squeezing his eyes closed again Jonathan balls his fists as he alternately pushes back and then moves forward to grind against the mattress beneath him. His cock is hard and arching and while he makes a valiant effort to stay quiet, there is no way to silence the sounds that are forced from his body as Malcolm continues his attack.

It is only when Jonathan thinks that he canít take anymore, that his body will betray him before he is ready, Malcolm withdraws and he is given a reprieve. Respite is fleeting however, Jonathan has barely caught his breath before Malcolm moves in again, this time helping him to his knees, then turning him in the limited expanse of the bed to face the window.

It is perhaps the most challenging aspect of what they have shared so far, and what Jonathan realises is his ultimate surrender. He struggles not to lower his eyes. His heart pounding furiously as a recent memory of the two of them joined together in front of the vanity mirror in his quarterís small bathroom comes to mind. Despite the obvious restrictions Jonathan had managed to avoid looking at the image they made while Malcolm had taken him, hard and fast. At the time he had been very grateful that his lover hadnít insisted on it, but that seems to have changed.

The hand of the back of Jonathan neck holds his head firmly in place and even with a million stars as their backdrop the reflective nature of the viewport shows them as they truly are. Naked and aroused. Malcolm kneeling over him and clearing in charge of the situation.

Need and desire war with long set beliefs and Jonathan canít help it, he glances away to focus on his breathing, on his loverís hands still touching him. His body is stretched and ready, aching for Malcolm take him and yet Jonathan knows that wonít happen until he at least tries to face his fears. He also knows Malcolm understands, that he doesnít think any less of him, but much of this is still difficult. Lips pressed to his shoulder help to ground him, as does the warm arm passed around his waist to usher him back to rest against Malcolmís chest.

ďWhat do you see?Ē Malcolm whispers and Jonathan knows he has no choice than to look up again.

He still feels decidedly self-conscious, but itís impossible to ignore or to pretend that the view is anything less than beautiful. Made more so Jonathan realises by the sight of his very perceptive lover smiling at him even as he continues to touch and entice. The sensation of one strong hand encircling his length is more than distracting and he is barely able to reply before Malcolm strokes his cock from root to tip, scattering his thoughts entirely.

Jonathan leans back, letting Malcolm support his weight and to give him better access. ďUs,Ē he breaths, but he know itís not enough, that more is expected. ďYou leaning over me, holding me,Ē he adds.

ďLoving you,Ē Malcolm amends, and Jonathan knows itís true -- that above all else, Malcolm loves him.

Long fingers release and a brief kiss is bestowed to the captainís right shoulder as he is eased forward to sit up again. Malcolm unfolds his legs to slip off the side of the bed, one hand already extended to help Jonathan up.

ďCan you stand?Ē he inquires.

Malcolmís plans are still unclear, but any reservations Jonathan has are quickly eroded as he takes the hand offered and moves to meet his lover in the space between the bed and the viewport. Malcolmís mouth closes over Jonathanís, igniting a different kind of intimacy and for a few moments they simply enjoy the warmth and depth of the other. Bodies hard and ready. Need pooling as they caress and knead one another.

Jonathan knows that he could easily lose himself in just this. The feeling of Malcolmís hands and the firmness of his body pressed against his own is amazing, liberating in ways that he is still learning to enjoy. By the time Malcolm pushes him away again his head is spinning and his knees are weak.

Itís not really a surprise when he finds himself turned around once more and encouraged to look up. Somewhere in the back of his mind he knows what is coming. ďI want you to watch as I make love to you,Ē Malcolm announces, his tone clear and direct.

Jonathan swallows over the lump that forms in his throat and nods.

Itís all feels surreal after that, especially for Jonathan. Guided the remaining distance he raises his arms to brace himself against the viewport. The familiar sight of the stars passing them by outside of the ship providing a strange sort of comfort as Malcolm settles behind him. In spite of his almost overwhelming need to look away Jonathan keeps his eyes fixed on the man moving over his shoulder. Malcolmís hands seem to be everywhere at once and he can barely keep up with each new sensation as Malcolm adjusts and then readjusts their position to his satisfaction.

Malcolm knows that this isnít easy for Jonathan. Men like Captain Archer are conditioned to govern others, very rarely are they taught anything about their own needs, or the possibility that they too may need to be managed.

Jonathanís shoulders are forced down and once seated Malcolm pulls his head back to ensure eye contact -- to ensure he watches. For Jonathan the awkwardness of the position has little bearing on the discomfort he feels. No matter how he tries to rationalise the relationship he now enjoys with Malcolm, it is difficult for him to accept that he is not the man he imagined himself to be -- that this dynamic is his choice, what he chooses when they are alone.

The angle is not ideal. Jonathanís shoulderís and neck hurt and yet somehow it works. A slow, steady push and pull, nerve endings connecting and sparking at just the right intervals to make it good for both of them. The familiar sounds of exertion; of men pushed to their endurance and the slap and slide of over worked flesh filling the air.

Malcolm does his level best to hold back his impending climax. He wants to give Jonathan everything he needs and more, but even with his level of stamina he can only maintain the position he has chosen and the pace he has set for so long. In the end he has no alternative than to finish it. He reaches for Jonathan, watching as his eyes go wide, his mouth forming a perfect O as Malcolm works to strip away the very last of his control.

By the time it is finally over all that remains is a tangle of sweat soaked limbs and two thundering hearts. It is only by pure will that Malcolm manages to carry them both the short distance to the bed. Jonathan is asleep within minutes and Malcolm knows it wonít be long before he joins him. His last thoughts are of the man beside him, of how far they have come in the previous few weeks and of how being with Jonathan gives him strength he never realised he possessed.



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