Chapter Text
"—but I'm still not convinced," Tucker said as they exited the lift. He gave a little wave at a crew member, only the second or third they'd seen since they'd come on board.
"What, you don't believe Shran was double-crossed? It wouldn't be the first time." Archer remembered how another Andorian woman had been less than forthcoming with Shran. Andorians really didn't trust anybody—even each other. Sad.
"Well, if you want to believe him, be my guest," Tucker said. "I don't buy the whole 'I had no idea she was going to torture you' routine. I mean, Shran's the one who knocked out T'Pol and transported us up."
"Yes, but when I saw him in the hallway, he really did seem surprised to see me." Archer stopped in front of his door. He was home. "And he got us released, didn't he? I'm glad Malcolm was able to follow the warp trail of the Andorian ship. At least they stopped fighting when we transported aboard the alien vessel." He reached up to key in his access code. Shran had been manipulated by the Andorian commando. Shran had thought he'd been a go-between, but he'd been used to procure Archer and T'Pol for questioning.
Tucker shifted his weight, obviously uncomfortable. "Well, Cap'n, I'll let you get some rest. You must be plumb exhausted from all the—you know—"
"Torture?" Archer supplied.
"Yeah, that."
Archer shook his head. "I'm fine. A couple hours in sickbay fixed me right up." He tried not to smile at his friend. It was the first time they had been alone since they had returned to Enterprise, and Archer could tell Tucker was nervous. They hadn't talked about it—about how they had cuddled together, about how they had almost kissed. Apparently it took Andorian commandoes to make each realize what he meant to the other, or at least give them the courage to admit it. Archer told him, "You know, I've got these engineering specifications I've been just dying to show you."
Tucker's smile nearly blinded him. "Oh, really, now? Because you know how interested I am in...specifications."
Archer stepped through the open door. "You'd better come in, then."
He entered his neat quarters, Tucker close behind. "Where's Porthos?" Tucker asked. "He's conspicuous by his absence."
"Hoshi was keeping him while I was gone. I guess he's in her quarters. It is the middle of the night, you know."
"Yeah, I know." Tucker looked at him, and Archer suddenly felt shy.
The awkward silence stretched. Then Archer said "Trip" just as Tucker said "Jon." Tucker held up a hand and Archer quieted. "I almost told you everything in the bar, and I've been kicking myself ever since for not sayin' anything," Tucker said.
"So say it," Archer said. His eyes locked with Tucker's, and suddenly all the air was gone from the room.
Tucker stepped close and took Archer's hands. "Nah," he whispered. "Now I don't have to." He kissed Archer softly, right on the mouth. "But I plan to spend the night. Just so you know."
Archer's heart started hammering at Tucker's implicit promise. "I'd—I'd like that," he managed, his lips still tingling from the brief kiss.
"When we were in that room, and you came back with a black eye, all trussed up, looking like hell—" Tucker began. He shook his head. "I was worried sick. I was afraid you were going to die on me. And I hadn't said anything about how I felt. But I wanted—I wanted to do this." He leaned in and captured Archer's mouth again. This time the kiss was warm and lingering, and somehow, he tasted familiar. Archer fell into it. Nothing else in the universe existed.
When Tucker pulled back for a breath, he whispered, "Jon."
"Trip," Archer said. He let go of Tucker's hands and stroked his face, the familiar face of his friend. It was all too much, and he couldn't speak, so he just hugged him, burying his face in Tucker's neck, breathing deeply, and then trailing kisses up to his jaw. He felt Tucker's fingers wind in his hair, felt his sharp intake of breath. Finally, his mouth found Tucker's. The relief was incredible—relief at being alive, at finally being able to touch Tucker the way he'd wanted to for a long, long time. He was giddy in a definitely uncaptainly way, giddy with happiness and desire.
And Tucker seemed to feel the same way, leaning against him eagerly, clinging to him, moaning a little, sucking on Archer's tongue, sighing into his mouth. Archer was overwhelmed by how sweet Tucker's mouth was, by how eagerly he kissed and rubbed his body against his. Tucker wanted him, really wanted him. Having Tucker in his arms was better than Archer had imagined, and they weren't even naked yet.
Tucker pulled back, his hands holding Archer's head. He examined Archer's face in amazement, as if he had never seen it before. Archer knew Tucker felt it too: the realization that their bodies responded to each other, that a touch, a kiss could ignite the other. "Oh, god, Jon—"
Archer's mouth was captured again. Tucker's arms went around his waist, Tucker's hips shoving against his. Archer nearly laughed for joy when Tucker's hands gripped his ass. Tucker was all over him, a little clumsy and rough in his enthusiasm, which made it all the better. He pushed a thigh between Tucker's legs, rubbing it against the hardness there, and Tucker cried out in delight against his cheek. Archer felt a rush through his body, his blood surging. He was suddenly so hard he couldn't wait another instant.
"Bed," Archer panted, wanting, needing Tucker so much he was nearly incoherent. "Bed. Naked. Now." He fumbled first with his own zipper, barely getting it unzipped before he decided he'd rather get Tucker's uniform off instead. Their hands tangled, and they both laughed. Tucker grabbed him again, hugging him tight, their groins clashing together as they stumbled toward the bed.
"Now," Tucker said, pulling Archer's uniform down over his shoulders. He grabbed the fabric and pulled Archer close to him. "Need you now. Right now."
"I'm getting the idea," Archer panted, and was rewarded by Tucker's laughter. It felt wonderful, Tucker's hard body shaking, pressed so closely against his, making his groin ache even more. "What about that naked part?"
"Does that mean I have to let go of you?" Tucker asked.
Archer grinned against his neck. "Just for a second, I promise."
Tucker dropped his arms and they began stripping off their uniforms, standing so close their elbows bumped. Tucker made an exasperated sound as he tried to remove everything at once— his briefs, his coverall, his socks, his shoes. Archer grabbed Tucker's shoulders just as Tucker was about to go down. Archer's own uniform was half off, his shirt hanging from an arm. They grinned at each other.
"You'd think we never tried to get undressed before," Tucker panted. He held onto Archer, looking into his eyes while stepping out of his shoes.
Archer was mesmerized by those eyes. But Tucker pulled the shirt off Archer and tossed it at his chest. "C'mon, keep it movin'."
Archer laughed and then finally, finally they were both naked. Archer found himself staring at more than Tucker's eyes now. Tucker was gorgeous. He had always known that. He had seen Tucker's body before, had even been lucky enough to smear decon gel on it, but now—Tucker was completely exposed, his chest tapering down to narrow hips, his cock big and hard.
Tucker moved toward him, smiling wickedly. The look in his eyes was almost predatory, and Archer's mouth went dry. Their need was mutual, he realized. "I'm likin' those specifications, Jon. Likin' them a whole lot," Tucker informed him.
Before Archer realized what was happening, he found him self on the bed, on his back, with Tucker on top of him, which suited him just fine. And when Tucker's specifications slid up against his, his brain simply shorted out. He grabbed Tucker's head, kissing him as he wrapped his legs around Tucker's waist, holding him tight. Tucker was his. Tucker was beautiful. Tucker was heavy and solid and crushing him into the bed, moving and rubbing, and it was just the most wonderful thing he had ever experienced. Shock after shock of pleasure raced through Archer's body as Tucker rocked against him, making desperate, hungry little noises that drove him wild.
"Jon," Tucker panted against his mouth. "Bed. Naked. Coming. Now."
His mouth opened and Archer plundered it with his tongue. Tucker writhed against him, clutching at him, straining, fingers digging into Archer's back, his breath hot against Archer's cheek. He groaned and shook against Archer as he came, and Archer held him even more tightly, feeling Tucker orgasm against his body. It was simply amazing, that Tucker would do this, that Tucker would come all over him—
Archer shut his eyes as his own cock was smashed against Trip's stomach, rubbing through the thick, hot liquid, and then, oh, god, he couldn't take it any more, the pleasure was too intense, and Jesus, he had to let go because it was too much, it was too much. "Trip," he said in a hoarse whisper as his body exploded. "Oh, god—"
When he opened his eyes, he and Tucker were still wrapped in each other's arms, Tucker melted against him. Their kisses had turned slow and gentle. Archer could feel the warm stickiness of come all over his stomach and chest—Tucker's come, and his own. He was still stunned by all that had happened, by how fast everything had been, by how their bodies responded to each other. He felt lightheaded, relaxed. The incredible desperation was gone, but now it was replaced by soul-deep, abiding desire. Archer knew that he would never be able to get enough of Tucker's touch. And he was glad.
"I think we set a speed record," Tucker said drowsily.
"Fast and enthusiastic," Archer said. "My favorite." He unwrapped his legs, and Tucker rolled off, grunting.
They lay side by side. "You know how I said I was going to spend the night?" Tucker asked. He leaned down and kissed Archer's nipple, nipping it with his teeth.
"I remember," Archer said, running his fingers through Tucker's hair.
"I've changed my mind."
"Oh?" Archer grinned. He'd known he wanted Tucker, but he hadn't known Tucker would sweep him away like this, that he could get so lost in the man. Their Andorian adventure suddenly seemed a million light-years away. It had just been a misunderstanding after all. And it hadn't turned out all that bad. It had made them take stock. It had brought them together. Having this beautiful man in his arms, in his bed—it was well worth a little torture.
Tucker's mouth worked its way up and Archer shivered with delight, his cock stirring again. "It's not just tonight. It's going to have to be every night," he whispered into the crook of Archer's neck.
"Well, if you're sure," Archer said, wondering if he was ever going to be able to stop smiling. "My bed is too big for just me anyway. Not like one of those little Andorian things."
"That's what I thought," Tucker said.