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 ‘Judgement’
series. Actually it’s just an excuse to delve a little further into Jonathan’s
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 Jonathan’s fears have been abated, watching
Malcolm as he is now; slowly divesting himself of his uniform, his eyes
twinkling with promise, Jonathan honestly doesn’t 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 Jonathan’s junior and a subordinate were elements that didn’t 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 it’s 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
Jonathan is aware that Malcolm’s 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, Jonathan’s breath catches and need coils deep in his
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
Jonathan’s body. Similarly Malcolm’s
cock is filling and lengthening as Jonathan nuzzles against his warmth.
The uniqueness of Malcolm’s scent evades Jonathan’s sense as
he moves over his lover’s 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 Malcolm’s appears to have other ideas as Jonathan notes a firm hand
compelling him to move.
“Turn around love.”
The hand on the captain’s shoulder leaves no doubt to the
other man’s intentions and Jonathan knows that if there is anything he doesn’t
want, now is his time to speak up. Nothing comes to mind, but Jonathan is aware
that’s 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. Jonathan’s 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 it’s 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
captain’s cabin is reduced to one quarter and both sets of eyes slowly adjust
to the new setting. Warm breath on the
back of Jonathan’s neck and soft lips trail the length of his spine as
perspiration forms in his lover’s 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
isn’t careful, but because he is, infinitely so. The realisation of which
brings tears to Jonathan’s eyes and he knows he is lost, that there isn’t
anything he wouldn’t 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
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 can’t 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 quarter’s 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 hadn’t 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 can’t
help it, he glances away to focus on his breathing, on his lover’s hands still
touching him. His body is stretched and ready, aching for Malcolm take him and
yet Jonathan knows that won’t happen until he at least tries to face his fears.
He also knows Malcolm understands, that he doesn’t 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
“What do you see?” Malcolm whispers and Jonathan knows he
has no choice than to look up again.
He still feels decidedly self-conscious, but it’s 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
Jonathan leans back, letting Malcolm support his weight and to
give him better access. “Us,” he breaths, but he know it’s not enough, that
more is expected. “You leaning over me, holding
me,” he adds.
“Loving you,” Malcolm amends, and Jonathan knows it’s true
-- that above all else, Malcolm loves him.
Long fingers release and a brief kiss is bestowed to the
captain’s 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.
“Can you stand?” he
Malcolm’s 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. Malcolm’s mouth closes
over Jonathan’s, 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 Malcolm’s 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.
It’s 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. “I want you to watch as I make love to you,” Malcolm
announces, his tone clear and direct.
Jonathan swallows over the lump that forms in his throat and
It’s 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. Malcolm’s 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 isn’t 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
Jonathan’s 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. Jonathan’s shoulder’s 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 won’t 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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