THE BRIGHT LIGHT OF DAY
Valentine's Day Story
vanhunks
Disclaimer: Voyager owns
RATING:
NC-17
Maybe not so big on the smutfest, but NC-17, what the heck.
THE
BRIGHT LIGHT OF DAY
"Mr
Paris," Neelix breathed, "are you sure this
is going to work this year?"
"Sure,
Neelix, it's that time of the year. Love and romance.
Who can't but fall in love?"
"But
- but...the Commander, you know he - "
"He, nothing, Neelix. I say he needs a little fire
under him."
Then he
leaned over the counter in the mess hall where Neelix was busy cooking the ever
present Leola root stew, and whispered conspiratorially, "we have a very
lonely Captain, Neelix."
"Ah...yes,
well...but I still don't - "
"Neelix,
Neelix, all you have to do is point it in the Commander's direction."
"But
- but Tom, what...if - "
"What
nothing, Neelix. All you make sure of, is that you
have the Commander in your line of vision all the time. Got that?"
"Right,
Mr Paris."
"And
a certain First Officer will feel the sting of this little golden arrow right
between the shoulder blades..." Tom held the tiniest of tiny arrows in his
hand.
"A
guy called cupid - "
"Yeah, Neelix, a guy called Cupid." Tom sounded
slightly long suffering in Neelix's company.
"And
- and you say this - this...guy, lived in ancient
"Alright,
Neelix," Tom sighed. "One last time, it's a mythological figure
that..."
"Yes,
I know that part. I just thought he was real."
"Oh
believe me Neelix, after tomorrow night, this "guy" will be very
real," came Tom's diabolical smile now.
"Fine,
then. Let's get to it!"
*****************
Chakotay
woke sluggishly, from a deep slumber, and somewhere his sleep drugged sense
registered aching limbs, a cricked neck, the stiffness
of having lain in the same position for hours. His head was pressed far back so
that his neck was exposed, the Adam's apple moving as he tried to swallow.
Something was pressing against him, and for long moments he could not decide
what it was.
Truth is, he had no idea where he was or when he was. The feeling of
total disorientation scared him. He was confused. What day was it? When was it?
Morning, early evening, afternoon? He struggled to
remember, but memories eluded him. He felt something move. Against
him. His body shifted to accommodate the movement.
He was
lying on something very hard. So hard he realised, it must be solid. He groaned
in his discomfort. But the weight was bearing down on him. What was it?
He very
slowly opened his eyes, saw through a haze the mane of
red hair over his chest. The hair belonged not to him. Someone's head was
attached to it. An arm was thrown carelessly over his waist, but holding him
firmly. For everytime it seemed that he shifted position, the arm clasped him
more tightly. He lifted his hand and moved the hair from the face. Saw the
closed eyes, in still deep sleep the form of Kathryn Janeway.
And, he
realised with dismay, he was totally naked, with an equally and seductively naked
Captain lying in his arms.
He groaned
then.
Kathryn.
God...! he moaned again softly. Slowly the memories
came crashing on him. He looked around him. They were in her quarters, on her
floor! And Kathryn was wrapped around him like a Christmas present...no,
scratch that. A Valentine's Day present...
Last
night. The holodeck. And the sting of...whatever it
was the moment he looked at Kathryn Janeway entering the resort, dressed in...whatever it was that made his blood boil and his senses
reel. And made him throw all caution to the wind.
She looked
stunning, and provocative, in that light blue dress that seemed to cling to her
body, caressing every curve, showing to perfection the rounding of her breasts.
The hem swishing around her ankles.
He was not
alone. Not with half the crew watching her enter and smiling benignly. He had
been puzzled the whole time, by a soft snickering, a little short and bell-like
childish laugh. And everytime he turned in the direction of the sound, it
stopped. It was nerve wracking and irritating, especially when certain crew
members would burst into an accompanying laugh.
Then she
came in and everything changed. The moment he looked at her, he felt the
overwhelming desire he had so rigidly reined in during the years. He felt that
hard fought control slip...slip...
He didn't
want to give in to it. Knowing she treasured her space, knowing how she always,
always kept him at arm's length, yet not above teasing him to the brink of
madness. She looked at him, and everything around them faded into
non-existence. All he felt then, the unfamiliar sting in the small of his back,
that mischievous laugh again, then he became blinded to all around him.
How he
loved her. Since forever. Last night. Now.
Yet, never able to give in to his feelings, always respectful, always
mindful of not touching her, lest he feel that rush of adrenaline. He was her First
Officer. Her friend. She allowed nothing more inside
those parameters. So he would suppress all desire, whenever they were in each
other's company, those dinners in her quarters... when he wished...
And
everytime, when returning to his quarters, stand under the coldest of showers.
Nothing helped to cool his passion he tried the whole evening to suppress so
forcibly. Then, eventually, almost crying out her name in agony, his hand would
go down to his erection, stiff, and throbbing and painful, releasing himself,
then cursing him and her afterwards.
Now,
waking up, with her in his arms and he has little recollection how he got to be
in her quarters, much less have her firmly entwined in his arms.
There was
so much between them, and so little, he thought, joining these two ideas in
incongruous togetherness. So near him at all times in their working
environment, yet so, so out of reach. She had imperceptibly, erected those
barriers around her, allowing him only so much, or so little. And for years he
kept his feelings and emotions under tight rein. It didn't help any that he
involved himself with this female or that alien. Her image superceded all of his
liaisons he had with other women.
Last
night, the only thing standing clear in his memory, was seeing her, and the
rush of adrenaline so strong, it pulsed through his body, watching her. Walking
up to her, and losing his celebrated control. All hell broke loose after that.
Chakotay
broke loose.
***************
"Kathryn,
as always...you look beautiful," he whispered, taking her hand and leading
her to the middle of the room, where an area had been cleared for dancing.
"It's
a night for love, you know that, Commander."
"That's
why you look ravishing?" he whispered against her ear, becoming a little
drunk just breathing in her perfume. Already he was swooning and going a little
crazy. Doing and saying things on this night, their annual Valentine's Day
Ball, he would never have ventured with her. Never.
"That
is why I'm dressed up. Hoping to catch the eye of an elusive stranger..."
"I'm
no stranger, Kathryn..."
"What
do you want to be, Chakotay?" she asked, her voice husky, turning her
face up to him. He died first, closed his eyes, felt his heart thudding wildly.
Her face was so close to him, her lips almost touching his. She melted into him, he swayed against her, his hand against the small of
her back. The other cupping her head against his chest.
He lowered his mouth so that his lips brushed hers in a feather soft caress.
"Whatever
you want me to be tonight, Kathryn. Anything..." he whispered hoarsely. He
knew he was gone in those moments. They didn't notice the crew watching them,
respectfully making way for them, but both of them were oblivious of the eyes
on them. Oblivious of Neelix and Tom patting each other and
slapping palms.
They
swayed to the cadence of the music, appropriately called "I'll be loving you, always." Chakotay felt he could melt
away into her, so at one they were, his mouth always close to hers, his lips
brushing hers, her mouth opening under his insistent probing, their breathing
becoming heavy and low. Her own breath warm against
his cheek.
"What
do you want..." he asked again, his arms possessively around her, still
almost incoherent with the wonder that she hasn't pulled away from, that she
seemed to want this incredible closeness as much as he. He could feel, almost
embarrassingly, becoming aroused, his bulge pressing into her stomach. He heard
only as if from a way off, her soft moan as she felt him against her.
"I
want...to forget my...command, and think of my...Commander," she whispered
seductively in his ear.
"Kathryn."
"Hmmm...?"
"We're
in the middle of the dance floor of the holodeck..."
"I
know...I don't care..."
"Kathryn,
come," he commanded, and right there, in full view of the hundred eyes
looking at them, he picked her up and carried her out of the holodeck, walking
slowly with her in his arms in the general direction of her quarters. Kissing her as he walked, her arms clasped around his neck.
He was
drunk with passion and so, it seemed, was she. The first thing he noticed when
he entered her cabin, was the champagne bucket, with it's bottle resting in it,
a bunch of blood red roses, and a card with a red heart bearing the legend:
"One night of magic."
But last
night...they took little notice of that, intent on feeding their hunger of each
other. His put her down, looked deep into her eyes, saw how heavy lidded with
desire they were, and knew without a doubt that they mirrored his own. He hands
caressed her shoulder, traveling over her breast, feeling the roundness, the
nipples already erect.
He groaned
and bent his head, grabbing one breast to his mouth, and through the fabric
began to suck. The feel of the fabric and her nipple drove him mad. He felt her
throw her head back and cry his name softly.
"Kathryn..."
"Please...don't
stop now..." she pleaded, her hand going under his jacket, and pulling him
closer to her.
He slid
his hand down her legs, feeling the soft folds of the dress under his fingers
as he pushed it up slowly, eyes showing surprise.
"Was
this dress all you had on Kathryn..." as his hands smoothed over the
satin-like feel of her skin, her rounded bottoms. No panty. Kathryn's arms
going up till he pulled the dress over her head.
"Hmmm..."
she mumbled her answer.
"Now
take my clothes off," he commanded, as he groaned at the sight of her
naked body. His senses reeling.
"Aye,
Sir," she said, as she started removing his jacket, and then in frenzied
haste tore his clothes off.
"Yes..."
he grunted as he stood in front of her, picked her up and let her straddle him.
He walked towards the bulkhead, and braced her against the wall. She felt his
hardness, wanted him to hurry.
"Kathryn,
tonight, I'm not a nice man..." he groaned again.
"Nor a very patient man."
"I
want you Kathryn. Now!" he screamed as he swiftly impaled her on him. Then
his mouth covered hers as he kissed her deeply, swallowing her cries as he
pounded hard into her, mindless of her tight sheath. His hands covered each
breast as he slammed against her, hearing her grunts with each thrust. He was
insane with desire, his body aflame with years of pent up passion, unrequited
feelings. In an almost angry burst he slammed himself into her, grunting,
hearing her own answering groans and cries, egging him on and on and on. They
hurried to their first orgasm, and in dizzying, blinding lightning, crashed
thunderously over the edge.
Their
bodies sweating, her hair plastered against her skin, her face flushed, she
started slowly breathing normally again. And he...he felt himself hardening as
quickly as the first time and started moving in her.
"I
can't get enough of you..." he groaned into her mouth, as he thrust wildly
into her again, her legs now clutched around his waist.
"Then
get your fill, Chakotay, the night is young..." she breathed raggedly. Her
lips were swollen with his kisses, very red, and between her legs, her juices
spilled liberally on to him.
The night
was indeed still young as he took her again and again. And roughly, never on
any of the soft surfaces, as though through it he indicated his long denied
need of her. It was indeed not time for niceties.
At length
he had her on the floor, his jacket beneath her. He lay next to her, and kissed
her. Her hands came up to cup his head and draw him closer, and he had his
hands on her breasts, kneading it gently. His hand caressed her stomach,
smoothing down towards her cleft, where his fingers twined in the damp curls of
her vulva. Her mouth opened under his as she shifted to part her thighs, and
let his hands cup her fully. Gently inserting two fingers separating the soft
folds as he entered her, he could hear her gasp. His thumb unsheathed her clit,
and with his fingers thrusting, and his thumb circling the little pink nub, he
brought her gently to another climax. Reveling in the feel of her muscles
tensing as the sensual touch of his fingers created a multitude of sensations
so painfully erotic, that she became soon out of breath. Her entire body arched
and bucked as she orgasmed into his hand.
Then he
positioned himself between her wide open thighs, his mouth resting on her
vulva, feeling it come alive as he started sucking, grazing her soft folds with
his teeth. He tasted her juices, lapped it up, and with his hands braced on the
floor, encouraged her to move with him, and she arched into him as he made love
to that very core of her desire, his mouth never leaving her vulva, pushing
rhythmically into her until she exploded into him, screaming his name. He felt
a blinding flash as he experienced her climax.
"Had
enough, Captain?" he asked, his mouth close to hers, his hand caressing
her stomach, the fingers all the time rubbing her skin.
His hunger
never abated as she in turn flipped him over, her tongue lapping his entire
body that made his nerve endings stand dangerously on end, quivering with the
need to join his body with hers. She licked, lapped, bit, scratched.
Tore deep gashes down his back as he rode her at one time so hard that she
screamed his name, her body arched against his, her fingers pulling long
scratches from his shoulder blades to his lower back.
No,
Chakotay thought, last night he could not get enough of her. Nor
she of him. At some point they noticed the champagne, and sat there, on
the floor of her quarters, drinking. It's effect so
soporific, they went headlong into another long unending session of lovemaking.
It was in the early hours they fell into an exhausted sleep, their clothes
strewn all over the floor, and his shaft still erect in her. Even as they
slept, he was still hard, his mind still alert, and in the first hour or so,
moved lazily in her. Until, so tired, that even that movement eventually
stopped.
And that's
how he woke up a few minutes ago.
Ashamed now and filled with guilt. He looked at her again, her
hand so trustingly against his chest. Still sleeping the
sleep of the innocent.
He felt
the embarrassing rush of tears when he realised that when she woke up, all the
old parameters would be in place. No, last night, was a night of magic, when
they were not themselves. Something else was in control of both of them. When she woke up. he would be again
Commander, and she...Captain.
Back to
where he was before last night.
She will
never feel about him, the way he is almost sick with longing to wake up with
her like this, day after day after day. Never love him... Last night they were
thrown onto the vortex of some passion.
Now...
The bright
light of day reminded of the reality. When last night had
been clouded by passion. This morning waking up to the cold boundaries
and parameters...
It's over
he thought as he very, very gently extricated her from him, gathered his
clothes and quietly got dressed. He picked her up, still sleeping heavily, and
carried her to her bed, the bed they never used during their frenzied
lovemaking. He tucked her in, and noticed absently the light bruises on her skin.
He kissed her cheek, and stroked it with his finger.
He sighed.
Then left her quarters.
************
It was a
morning of strained relations as some crew watched with dismay their Captain
and First Officer once again dancing around each other.
Neelix,
the ever ebullient and hopeful mess sergeant doodled around Tom, complaining
how their plan backfired. Tom, listening to Neelix with half an ear while
trying to down his morning porridge with some unnamable liquid, was pensive.
He
speculated that the truce the Captain and XO declared last night,
would be in place again very soon. He could bet his last golden arrow on that.
He was not hopeful, he was confident. He had enough experience battling and
winning over a half-Klingon, to know that their Captain would some time during
today, and not later, have her First Officer joined to her hip again. Like they were last night.
He could
have sworn that had they not been there, their commanding officers would have
given the holographic characters a floor show. If the resort last night had
been the inside of a '57 Chevy, they would have steamed up the entire car. The
heat, as all of them saw, just bounced off those two. No one who watched them,
felt any sense of embarrassment; they didn't cast their eyes away from the two
in the middle of the dance floor, but rather watched in total stupefaction and
awe, their first officer at long last showing their Captain his feelings. He
let down his guard last night big time. Well, with a little help from a tiny
holographic friend and some tiny stings laced with some indeterminable
aphrodisiac Neelix bartered from somewhere.
No, before
the day is out, the Commander would have his Captain in his arms again.
*************
It was
early evening when Chakotay walked towards his quarters. He was off duty till
0400. He sighed. Preparing himself for a very lonely
night. Today had been difficult, trying not to look at her, being embarrassed
about what happened between them. He could sense her querying looks, her
uncertainty. He was a heel, leaving like he did early this morning without so much as a message.
He was
wary, he tried to mask again like he did of old, all he felt for her. Last
night was...the most wonderful night of his life. Today, the
most devastating. The realisation that for her it had been just a night
of letting go. He sighed as he punched in the code to
his quarters.
Kathryn
Janeway enjoyed the full five seconds the surprise played on Chakotay's face as
he entered his quarters. Tonight, she decided, it was time the mountain moved.
"Captain,
what - "
"Last
night it was Kathryn, Chakotay, and a hundred other things you called me in the
throes of your...passion," she said as he stood in front of her.
"Last
night was..."
"What,
Chakotay, a Valentine's Day surprise?"
"I
was not...myself..." he said lamely, his eyes drawn compellingly to the
low cut of the dress she was wearing, revealing that cleavage he buried his
face in time and again last night. She was doing it again, he thought with
stupefaction. Overpowering my senses.
"What
do you call what happened between us, Chakotay?
An aberration?"
"You
could sa - " He felt the sting of a sounding slap
across his cheek even before he could finish what he was saying. Saw her anger,
and...tears...
"Don't
diminish what happened, Chakotay. Never. You have no
idea."
He saw the
tears, wanted to grab her in his arms again, soothe her and comfort her. He
felt afraid. Yet now, also the dawning realisation that she could
possibly...possibly...
"It
meant the world to me Kathryn. I - I..." he swallowed and got the words
out with difficulty, stammering as he did so.
"I -
I love you... Kathryn Janeway. Always...and forever," he whispered.
"Nothing will change that. I am...at...your mercy."
"Well,
Chakotay," Kathryn said as she hurled herself into the arms of her
surprised First Officer, and mumbled against his oh, so hard and reassuring
chest, "what took you so long?"
He had
barely enough time to absorb what just happened, drinking in her scent, the
smell of her hair, becoming...drunk again. She turned her face to him, offered
her lips, and with gusto he descended upon them, kissing her for long, long
minutes, enjoying the dizzying feel of her soft and pliant body in his arms at
last.
"This
is where you belong, Kathryn Janeway. In my arms, forever," he muttered,
trying to salvage some of his pride.
"Yes,
my love," she assured him. "This is where I was meant to be. In your loving arms. Always."
They stood
there, just embracing. Chakotay holding her as if he would
never let her go. Her arms round his waist, head nestled in his neck, her eyes closed just reveling in being home at last in
the arms of her unwilling First Officer. She brought one hand away from his
back, opened her palm, smiled a little wickedly, and looked at the tiny, tiny
golden arrow.
"Thank
you Tom," she said silently to herself. "I owe you one."
THE END