We lie on our sides, facing each other, legs tangled together. Malcolm's body is warm and comforting against mine. I'm bone-weary, and I know he is too. His eyes are closed, and I can't stop staring at the bruises scattered around his eyes and mouth. Those bruises are so dark against his pale skin. I know it hurts. It hurts me, too. I really want to kiss him, but his lip is cut and it's little swollen, too. So I just lay here and watch him. And think about going back and strangling every Suliban bastard that was on our ship.

Malcolm opens his eyes. He looks into my soul. "Stop that, Trip," he says.

I frown. "Stop what?"

"Stop looking at me like that. It's not as bad as it looks."

I sigh. "Malcolm, I had to send you out there to go and be some kinda Suliban punchin' bag."

"You didn't *send* me. We came up with a plan, and it was my duty."

"Should have been mine." I would have given anything to go in his place, done anything so he didn't have to end up hurt like this.

"Don't be ridiculous. You had to set up the fake warp core breach in Engineering. I couldn't have done that."

"Hell, anyone could have done that."

Malcolm raises his eyebrows and gives me that look. Because what I said wasn't true at all, and we both knew it. I close my eyes. I was being, as T'Pol would probably say, highly illogical. But I'm feeling more than just a little freaked out here, now that it's all over. It's not easy watching the man you love go and get beat up. Willingly. And I'm still getting over how easily my captain can vanish into thin air, never mind having to deal with those god-damned Suliban crawling all over our ship, threatening folks and making all sorts of demands. They even messed with T'Pol's mind, trying to find the captain. Now I'll admit T'Pol hasn't always been my favorite person on this ship, but she's a member of this crew and is really turning out to be pretty loyal to Archer, so I'm feeling bad about what they did to her. She seemed to come out of it OK, though. Vulcans are as tough as they are annoying. Sort of like armory officers.

As if reading my mind, Malcolm asks, "What time are we due to rendezvous with the Vulcan ship?"

I open my eyes. "1400 hours." Just the thought of it makes me go cold inside. "Think they're still gonna pull the plug on the mission?" After everything we've been through. It just eats me up inside.

Malcolm is his usual fatalistic self. "Who knows. It's their decision."

"Yeah."

"What? No ranting, Mr. Tucker?" He reaches up and brushes my cheek with his fingers. He looks concerned.

"Too tired, I guess." I take his hand in mine and hold it, stroking his palm with my thumb. I love him so much it hurts sometimes. "I just don't want to give this up. Any of this." My voice starts to sound a little chokey, which usually would make me all embarrassed. But this is Malcolm I'm talking to.

"Trip." He leans in and kisses me, just a brush of his lips against mine. I pull him in closer, until our faces are touching, and we are breathing in each other's breath. "They can take the mission away from us, but we will be together, no matter where we end up. I love you, and I'm not letting you go. Ever."

I know he means it. And for some reason that is making me even more upset. I don't know why, because usually I'm way more optimistic than this, much to Malcolm's dismay. But I like the way things are now. "And what if we get assigned to the opposite ends of the Earth? Or one of us is up on Jupiter Station?"

"We'll either find a way to be assigned together, or I'll quit." Malcolm's voice is matter-of-fact.

"You will *not* quit. I'll quit." I know I can get a job anywhere.

"Stop being a pain in the arse, Trip." He looks even more tired now, and I feel really guilty. He doesn't need crap from me right now. "Let's save that argument for another time. Just remember, whatever happens, we'll work something out." He's being so earnest. Then he tries really hard, for me, and says "And who knows. Maybe the Vulcans will see the light and not pull the plug." I know he's saying that for my sake. And he doesn't sound very convincing.

"Yeah, maybe." I avoid saying something about hell freezing over. It's just so hard. We tore our hair out trying to figure out how we managed to kill those poor miners on the planet, and just when we figure out it wasn't our fault we had to face those damn Suliban again. And despite everything the crew really pulled together and came through. Tricked them, got them off the ship, got the captain back—I'm so damn proud to be a part of it. And those damn Vulcans just can't understand. Smug little shits. Think they are so much better than we are.

Malcolm is rubbing his foot against my leg, stroking my calf, distracting me from my fuming. I rest my hand on his side and then feel like crap when he flinches. "Sorry, Malcolm—" I pull back a bit and lift his blue undershirt, and examine the bruises on his ribs. "Shit. Does it hurt a lot?" I'm back to feeling pissed again. Goddamn ugly green sonsofbitches. Touched my Malcolm.

I get an honest answer. "Only a little." Malcolm has finally figured out that the "I'm fine" crap doesn't work with me.

I sigh and begin kissing his face, carefully aiming for the unbruised areas. I'm trying to be gentle with him, but he's reaching under my T-shirt now, touching my chest, my stomach, setting my skin on fire. Strong fingers caressing my body. His hand eventually finds its way to the waistband of my briefs, and next thing I know, it's on my ass. Massaging my ass. He doesn't seem quite so tired anymore. I'm beginning to wake up a bit myself.

I get to his lips and he opens his mouth and licks my lips. I eagerly open my mouth and let him in. We taste each other, tongues sliding together. He makes a contented sound and continues caressing my ass. Despite my exhaustion I'm rock hard and want to drag him into my arms and crush his body against mine. So I back away from him.

"Malcolm—" No way am I taking this any further, not with the shape he's in. He needs to get some rest.

"Make love to me." Malcolm's eyes are dark, and the desperation in his voice twists up my insides.

"Malcolm, you're hurt—"

"Please."

I groan. He's not being fair. That one word does me in, and he knows it. And he's not ashamed in the least—I can tell by the way his face lights up when I give in to him. I reach between us and find his cock, swollen and hard under his briefs. I run my fingers along the length of it, feeling him throb and twitch at my touch. He makes a little sound, almost in relief, and slips his hand under my briefs to hold my cock. His touch just does me in. Those hands. The pleasure surges through my body and I strain toward him, wanting more. More contact, more skin. More Malcolm.

When I look back up at his face I realize he's watching me. His eyes are locked onto mine and I can see the hunger there.

"I want you inside of me," he says, as he pushes his hot, eager cock into my hand. "No way, Malcolm." I have to draw the line somewhere. We can just touch. That shouldn't hurt him too much.

He begins to rub his thumb very slowly along the underside of my penis. "Come on, Trip, I won't break. I need to feel you. I need you buried in my ass."

I shiver a bit. I love when he talks like that. His hand is doing wonderful things to me, moving so slow like that. I start to think that maybe he's right I need to be inside him. Then I look again at the bruises on his face. "Malcolm—" I protest. I let go of him and roll over onto my back, causing his hand to slide off my dick. I think I whimpered at the loss of contact, it really did feel so damn good, but I need to think straight. "Malcolm, don't you think that's a little too strenuous for someone in your condition?" I'm proud of myself, I sound so nice and reasonable.

But the sneaky bastard already has the lube in his hands. He slips his briefs off, but not his shirt, and I know it's so I don't see all the bruises underneath. But I have to admit that even with the bruises, there's something hot about him kneeling there, wearing nothing except a blue Starfleet T-shirt, looking as horny as hell. It's a good look for him.

I run my hands along his thighs, feeling the hard muscles there, just beneath his skin. His skin just drives me crazy. I roll over a bit and start kissing at his knees, then work my way up. By time I get to his hip, I'm licking and sucking on him, leaving red marks behind on his skin. My hand goes to his other hip, pulling him a little off balance, and making him go from kneeling to sitting. So he leans back on his arms, spreads his legs for me and I spend some time stroking the inside of his thighs, watching his balls twitch and contract as my fingers slide upward. He lets out these sweet little moans whenever my fingers go northward. I decide my lips need to spend some quality time with his cock. First I do some kissing down at the base, then I lick my way to the tip. It's so hard and slick under my tongue. I suck as much of it as I can into my mouth, and he's enjoying that a hell of a lot, but then gently pushes me away. I realize I'm not going to dissuade him from his goal. And, what Malcolm wants, Malcolm gets.

He helps me out of my T-shirt and briefs. "I just want to state that this goes totally against my better judgment," I tell him in my best "Commander" tone of voice. He just gives me a little smile, which is a bit lopsided because of his swollen lip. He's killing me here. "What the hell am I goin' to do with you?" I continue, but my voice is softer now. Truth is I want it, hell, I *need* it as much as he does. Maybe more.

He just chuckles a bit and hands me the lube. "I think you know exactly what you are going to do with me." Then he lies back down, on his side, and pulls me down with him. And I realize I don't know what exactly I'm going to do, because we've never done it this way. I'm still figuring out the possible permutations of this guy-on-guy thing. And I'm not thinking too clearly at this point. Fortunately for both of us, Malcolm knows what he's doing. He scootches up close and throws a leg over my waist, giving me access to his ass. I pet it bit, it's just so wonderful, so round, so snug in my hands. Then I lube up my fingers and touch his anus. I can feel the tremor in his body when I do. But first I give it one last feeble try. "Are you sure?" I ask, knowing the answer already.

"Trip, don't make me have to hurt you," Malcolm growls.

He has no idea how cute he is when he growls. And I'm certainly not going to tell him, and ruin a good thing. I slide one finger inside of him, slowly. His breath hitches a bit. I watch his face closely, still not convinced I should be doing this. He closes his eyes and pushes back against my finger, his muscles immediately relaxing around it. He feels so hot and silky inside. My cock is throbbing, wanting to be where my finger is.

"More," he whispers to me.

I slip the second finger in, easily now. The ring of muscle is tight around my fingers, but I reach in deep, and stroke. It's a total rush, to be touching him, touching *Malcolm* from the inside like this. He groans and squirms, his arms grabbing at my shoulders. I slide my fingers around, making sure he's lubricated and stretched. We've done this kind of thing a few times, and yet I'm still dubious that my cock will actually fit in there, at least without hurting him a whole lot. He assures me it feels damn good, and it's pretty easy to see he enjoys it one hell of a lot, but I still haven't tried the bottom thing. And he hasn't pushed me about it.

"Doin' OK?" I ask. His eyes are closed and he's frowning a bit, but he's also groaning and pushing back on my fingers.

"It's good. Ready anytime you are," he gasps. He opens his eyes and just kind of glows at me. "God, I love you, Trip."

The words go right to my heart. He's so damn beautiful like this, even with the bruises those nasty-assed ugly aliens put there. Sometimes I think I can come by just looking at him. "Love you too, darlin'," I say, my fingers still in his ass.

I can't take my eyes off his. I slide my fingers out, and slick myself up. I'm so turned on I shudder a bit as my fingers come into contact with my own hot flesh. Then I pull his ass toward me and realize again that I have no idea what the hell I'm doing.

Malcolm sees the confusion on my face and pats my hip. "Lift." It's nice of him not to laugh, but I can see the amusement in his eyes. I comply, and he slips his lower leg around me, so both legs are wrapped around my waist. Nice. We shift around a bit and then my cock is right up against his opening.

"Ah. I get it now." I smile at Malcolm, suddenly feeling kind of shy.

Malcolm wiggles his ass against my cock, which nearly blows me away. "Then get on with it."

I slap his ass lightly. Then I slide inside of him. "Oh." It's about all I can say. It feels so fucking good that my whole body is shaking. I want him so bad, I want to just slam it on home, but of course I won't—I won't hurt him like that. Malcolm takes a deep breath, and I can feel his muscles ripple as he relaxes around me. He pushes down, and I go in a little further, and then he wraps his legs tighter around me and I'm in him up to my balls. We're both panting and I can see beads of sweat on his forehead. His black-and-blue forehead. God-damned Suliban. I want to lick his face and kiss him hard and thrust my tongue down his throat. So I just give him a gentle little kiss on his lips. He tries to pull my head in for another kiss but I resist.

"Bastard." He clenches his ass muscles around my dick and I cry out helplessly as the pleasure rushes through me.

"Stubborn shit." I gasp. I let him kiss me and he does so only briefly. I'm sure it hurts when he does that. I begin to thrust, very gently, and pleasure begins to ripple out from my groin, right through my body. It's so amazing. I wrap one arm around Malcolm's waist, and the other I slide under his head so I'm cupping his face. He licks my hand and groans, losing himself in the sensation of being loved. I focus on his face, letting his eyes draw me in. Making love to Malcolm has been a revelation, the way he just opens up to me. Lets me in. I feel his body shudder and tremble against mine, and every bit of the pleasure he's feeling is reflected in his eyes. It's intense, it's wonderful, and it's overwhelming. His hands are on my face, in my hair. I feel his thumb slip across my lips and into my mouth. I'm lost in him.

"Oh, lord, Trip, the way you make me feel," he whispers. "Love you inside of me. Love you." My hand goes to his hips and I lengthen my strokes, thrusting long and slow, making it last. I want it to be good for him. I want him to forget the beating he took. I want him to forget the miners that died because of us. Now I'm shaking from trying to keep in control. The pleasure is burning me up, my whole body is feeling this and I'm thinking I can't hold out much longer no matter how hard I try. Malcolm's fingers are burrowing in my hair, it hurts a little, but that doesn't help, it gives me even more of a rush. With every stroke I'm falling deeper into him. I can feel him shaking, letting go. His eyes are screwed shut now, his breaths are coming short and shallow.

"Oh yeah, darlin'. Love *you* Malcolm. Love you like this," I tell him, my voice low and gravely. I don't even sound like me.

He whimpers, his body starts to tense up. I grab his cock and even before I can pull on it he comes, shouting out my name to the universe, and I can't take the way his body is clenching around me, I have to let go. I come so hard I think I'm going to shake right out of my skin. It just rips through me and doesn't seem like it's ever gonna stop.

When I finally come back down Malcolm is touching my face again. I grin at him, and I know it's a bit of a goofy grin by the way he smiles back. My body feels utterly limp, and I don't think I could move if I had to.

"God, you're amazin'," I tell him. It's true. No one has ever made me feel like this.

He snorts at me, but I can tell he's touched. "You're not bad yourself, Mr. Tucker." He gets all British on me now, speaking very properly. I lick his nose. We untangle our legs, and I slide out of him. We both shudder a bit as we separate. My dick is sensitized that the cool air on it makes me twitch. Then Malcolm tucks himself into my neck, giving it a little lick as he does. "I'm wiped out." He sounds a bit muffled.

I hug him gently. I realize I feel better, less unbalanced.

Malcolm sighs and relaxes against me. I realize he's fallen asleep already. I'm not insulted though. Actually rather pleased with myself.

We're both a sticky mess, and for a moment I contemplate getting a towel. Which would mean getting up. I'm not about to disturb him. I decide to just pull the blanket up over us. He wakes a little and drapes an arm over me, making a contented sound. His hair tickles my chin. And I realize I'm not scared anymore of what might happen at the hearing tomorrow. Malcolm is right. No matter what happens, no one can take away what we have together.