Title: Find Love

Author: Beverly

Author's Contact: bev_crusher1971@yahoo.de

Archive: Permission to archive granted to Archers_Enterprise,

EntSTSlash, Captain&the Commander, reedsarmory, reedsarcheryrange and the MEG-Archive anyone else...ask nicely...*bg*

Rating: NC-17

Status: complete

Sequel to: Birthday Surprise

; there were really a few who wanted to have it... so here it is. Have fun...

Pairing: A/T/R

Warnings: none...okay, slightly BDSM, but very loving. And lots of sap...

Spoilers: none

Disclaimer: the usual...me nada...Paramount everything (but I treat them better!)

Beta: Redheadheart...boy, that girl has a way with words that's amazing. Without her this would be only half the fun. Thanks, sweety.

Summary: "This should summarize the plot only." Plot? Let's see...we have Archer, Tucker, Reed, a bed, a blindfold, lot's of lube...do I really have to summarize it?

Author's Notes: A few very brave souls wanted to see Malcolm without a blindfold, and Jon being able to say something. Here it is. Enjoy. Oh, and pleeeeeeaaaaaase...give me a little bit of feedback. I'm not as good in begging as Elf, but I love just as much...so please? Pretty please?

Find love

The principles of lust
are easy to understand
do what you feel
feel until the end
the principles of lust
are burned in your mind
do what you want
do it until you find

(Enigma: Find Love from the Album "MCMXC a.d.", 1990)


"Malcolm, I'm home!"

Trip opened the door to his quarters, senses put on alert at the darkness. Before he could react, a hand he knew like his own came out of it, covering his mouth. A beloved voice whispered to him, caressing his ears:

"Sshh...it's alright. Don't shout."


Relieved, Trip allowed himself to lean against the familiar form of his lover, who now carefully released his hand from the Southerner's mouth.

"Malcolm, what—?"

The hand returned, once again silencing him. Trip's eyes widened at the next thing whispered in his ear:

"It's payback time, love..."


"...and so I wanted to ask you, sir ...but if you're occupied tonight, I could understand that, and it isn't as if it would be your...you know, Trip has no clue about..."

When Jon lifted his hands in an I-give-up gesture, Malcolm ceased his uncharacteristic babbling. What he had really wanted to say, Jon could only guess—and he so hoped that he guessed the right thing.

"Okay, Malcolm, is it possible to put your rambling from the last ten minutes together into one coherent sentence?"

Malcolm stared at him wide-eyed for a few seconds, then blurted:

"Sleep with me!"

Now it was Jon's turn to stare. His mouth fell open, and for a few seconds he was unable to speak: the blood normally circulating through his brain headed south at breathtaking speed. Before he could reply, Malcolm went on:

"Not only with me, of course. Also with Trip. I mean, as you did on my...you *do* remember that night, don't you, sir?"

Jon smiled broadly. Remembered? Damn, he *relived* it almost every night in his head. Yes, he remembered it—vividly. Now he began to understand what this normally oh-so-private Englishman asked of him. One week ago, they had decided to repeat their lovemaking; however, no time had been set. To the captain, this last week had been pure hell.

Since that loving night in Trip's quarters, Jon had been unable to sleep undisturbed. As soon as his eyes had closed, his mind had showed him pictures, replaying every single gasp, every moan, every hoarse shout, every kiss, every touch.

The first night, he had been sure he could get over it. He was no schoolboy; he would get over it and be able to wait until one of the two men made a move on him. There was a realistic chance.

During the second night, he had taken Porthos for a long walk. The only result was that the little dog's exhausted snoring had kept him awake the rest of the night.

The third night had been spent pacing his quarters: four steps forward, four steps back, mind spinning like a hamster in a wheel. Sleep had refused to come, so Jon had taken a cold shower and gone to bed, lying awake for hours.

Seven nights later, a shy and blushing Malcolm Reed stood in his office, offering—no, *asking*—to fulfill all his dreams.

Said Malcolm was still rambling on, not finishing sentences, so vulnerable that Jon's heart flew right to him. So he looked Malcolm straight in the eyes (those wonderful, amazing gray eyes), stood up from behind his desk, stepped close to him, took his head in his hands and kissed him.

For a few seconds Malcolm was too overwhelmed to react. Then, carefully, he began to reciprocate. Jon's senses began to overload as the kiss grew more passionate from second to second. Soon his hands were roaming the smaller man's body, finally settling on his hips, pulling him nearer.

It took all of his willpower to back away, and murmur against the lips of the hard-breathing Malcolm:

"Tonight. 0800 hours. How do you want to have me?"

A smile began to spread slowly over Malcolm's face...


"Don't say a word."

Soft words in Trip's ear, then he felt himself being undressed by very capable hands. A shiver ran down his spine. "Payback time?" Was Jon here, too? He should be, when it was the payback Trip thought it would be.

Then he started as something slid across his face: cool, soft fabric, being closed carefully around his head. He smiled in anticipation.

A blindfold.

Just as it was being secured, the lights were switched on and immediately dimmed.

"Come with me."

His softvoiced lover stood at his right side, but the hands leading Trip to the bed were touching him from the left.


Trip's voice sounded a little uncertain. A kiss was the answer. Trip smiled under those lips. Jon. Definitely Jon. He knew that kiss from his heart.

"Jon," he sighed, as the kiss finally ended. As Trip felt his knees touch the bed, he was gently lowered to it. This wasn't the bed as he was used to it, though. The fabric felt...different; silken, cool under his touch but warming quickly with his body heat.


His lover chuckled heartily. "Aren't you able to form coherent sentences, love?"

Now Trip smiled, too.

"Yes, I am. What happened to our bed, darlin'? This isn't our sheet."

"Like the feel, love? It's silk. Much better looking; pity it'll never be standard issue. "

Trip moaned in pleasure. Oh yes, he liked it. It was magnificent, nearly sinful under his touch.

Then more touches made his breath catch in his throat. Soft cords were tied around his wrists and ankles, until he lay spreadeagled in the middle of the bed. His remaining senses had sharpened in a very brief time, and the helplessness of this situation was intensely erotic.

"God, you look gorgeous. So open. So willing."

"Don't forget...so horny."

That was Jon, barely hiding his laughter at the sight of Trip's proud erection.

"So, is anybody here willing to do something about it? I...oh yessssssss...."

Trip's voice faded when he felt a pair of lips close around the tip of his penis.


It had been Malcolm's idea. The gentle bondage game was his way of taking proper "revenge" on his lover for a birthday surprise.

But now, as he saw his lover open, willing and trusting on the bed, he felt a love for him so deep and overwhelming that it nearly took his breath away.

Impulsively, Malcolm leaned closer and kissed his lover's erection. Jon watched him, and suddenly all the awkwardness the older man had been feeling just seconds ago fell away from him. He had been invited tonight, and he was more than willing to enjoy it.

He moved up to Trip's face and began to kiss him gently. His old friend kissed him back with a passion that made Jon groan deep in his throat. He stroked the satiny flesh of the man sprawled on the bed, a man ready for being loved by both his lover and his old friend and ex-lover.

Jon closed his eyes, losing himself in the feeling of those soft lips under his, in the play of the facile tongue in his mouth, and in the little noises Trip made in the back of his throat whenever Malcolm hit a particularly sensitive spot.

It was hard for him to pull away from those lips, but he wanted to taste the skin which lay so temptingly under his fingertips. With great tenderness, Jon licked his way across Trip's throat, nibbling along the collarbone, tracing with the tip of his tongue strange patterns on the other man's chest, and finally coming to rest at one of his nipples.

Trip gasped slightly when he felt the warm wetness of Jon's tongue play with this sensitive area of his body. The double sensation of Malcolm's lips around his shaft and Jon's tongue on his nipple nearly made him come. Trip strained against his bonds, trying to touch either of the two men; though the cords were soft, the knots weren't. He was again trying to free himself when he heard a quiet chuckle. He stopped, turning his head in the direction of the sound to find Malcolm's lips hovering above his own.

"Sailor's knot, love—no way to escape. You have to remain this way until *we* decide to release you."

Then came a kiss: hard, passionate, wild.

Trip surrendered. He let his head fall back, stopped thinking and simply gave himself over to the pleasure the two men had in store for him.


Malcolm glanced down at his lover, then felt a hand gently caressing his own shoulder. Turning his head, he found himself practically nose to nose with Jon, gazing down into those incredible green eyes. Presented there he saw the soul of the man, open, vulnerable, and in that moment of time he fell in love with him. He couldn't help himself. It seemed the most natural act in the universe to close the tiny gap between them and kiss him.

And Malcolm did; it had been a week since he had last felt those soft lips under his, not counting the quick kiss in Jon's office. He snaked a hand around Jon's neck, pulling the other man impossibly closer until their bodies touched.

"Oh God, Jon." Malcolm's moan, and his own given name from the lips of this normally so-reserved man, were beautiful sounds to the captain.

Jon closed his eyes, concentrating on the feel of the warm skin under his hands. He let them travel over the broad shoulders, the smooth chest, the flat stomach, until he reached the sign of Malcolm's arousal. He hesitated for a split second, then his fingers closed around the hot flesh of the Englishman's cock.

Malcolm broke the kiss with a strangled cry.

"God, yes. Jon, touch me, please. Touch me there."

"Where's he touchin' you, darlin'? Please tell me."

Malcolm needed several deep breaths to be able to answer the pleading he heard in Trip's voice.

"He's touching my cock now, love, stroking it. He's...God, he's good."

"Do it to me, honey. Do to me what he does to you."

Without hesitation Malcolm closed his hand around the erection of his lover, whose hips gave an involuntary upward thrust. Now a little devil began to dance in Jon's eyes. While he kissed Malcolm deeply to distract him, he carefully touched Trip's face with his hand, index finger ghosting along the lower lip just to be caught between the sharp teeth of the blindfolded man on the bed.

Eagerly Trip licked and sucked on Jon's finger, moistening it as thoroughly as if he knew what his old friend had in mind. After a moment, Jon removed his finger from the hot cavern of Trip's mouth. Sliding his hands around Malcolm's slim waist to gently spread his buttocks, Jon's still-wet index finger suddenly pushed its way into the younger man's body.

Malcolm's shout of pleasure was quickly muffled by Jon's mouth, contractions around his finger making the captain's erection almost painful.

Again, Malcolm needed the space of a few breaths, this time before he was able to push his lubed index finger inside his lover. Trip gasped.

Jon watched the Englishman begin to gently open up the blindfolded man. Seeing the fingers disappear into Trip's beautiful body captivated him. While the two lovers appeared so engrossed in each other that their captain had been forgotten, nothing was farther from the truth...



Jon looked up to gaze at Trip's face.

"Kiss me, babe."

Jon's blinding smile warmed Malcolm's heart, and when the captain leaned down to kiss his old friend, his backside was displayed to the hungry eyes of his armory officer.

Malcolm was unable to resist. He leaned over and kissed each of Jon's buttocks, his reward a slight gasp followed by a deep moan.

Bolder now, Malcolm let the lubed index finger of his other hand slowly breach his captain's breathtaking body. There was no way he could have been prepared for the reaction.


Malcolm stared open-mouthed at his captain, feeling him shivering under his hand while the other man tried desperately to regain composure. Malcolm's shocked reaction had been to reflexively pull his fingers from Trip's body; now loud laughter rang out.

"Oh darlin', I wish I could see your face."

Several long seconds passed before Malcolm was able to collect enough wits to form a reply.


By then, Trip was laughing so hard he could barely speak.

"Oh yes, our Jonny is the biggest screamer I've ever met. You'll be surprised."

"But...how...I mean, last week...how?"

"Don't ask me, darlin'. I don't know how he managed to stay quiet *this* long. Just come up here and kiss me. And then go on with our screamer. Let's just hope they can't hear him on the bridge."

Still laughing, Trip pulled Malcolm down for a loving kiss, alternating between the men. It didn't take the Southerner very long to turn Malcolm's brain into jelly. Trip whispered to him tenderly:

"You know where the lube is. Now make our screamer really scream."

Jon heard the gentle words and moaned aloud, all the invitation the other man needed. Malcolm held the tube up with a triumphant smile.

Squeezing a generous amount of it to warm on his left hand, he returned to the center of his attention. Still busy kissing Trip, Jon had once again turned his lovely backside to Malcolm, who in turn again kissed the cheeks, now licking here and there, biting softly, then laving the same spot lovingly with his tongue, before he carefully pressed one finger into the willing body of his captain.

Now he was prepared for the reaction, and Trip did his best to quiet the man with his kisses.

Never before had Malcolm met a man so responsive to his touch, a man who gave himself so willingly, so completely, and he loved him for that.

By the time Malcolm could insert a second lubed finger, Jon was trembling with anticipation. He was constantly moaning now, sighing, and murmuring words of encouragement. A third followed, causing the older man to let out a groan. Malcolm found this kind of eloquence a marvelous turn-on. By the time his fourth finger had joined the others in gently fucking his captain, there was only one, all-consuming thought in his mind.

He wanted to push himself into the tempting heat of this man, wanted to make him scream with every thrust, wanted to feel the shivers around his own aching- hard erection until he was able to drive him over the edge and closely follow.

Malcolm pulled out his trembling fingers, quickly wiping them on a corner of the sheet before lubing himself, and in one swift motion was embedded within the body of his captain.

Nothing, absolutely nothing, could have prepared him for the reaction of the older man.

Jon's "GOD, MALCOLM, YES!" must have been heard at least two decks over and under their quarters. Not only the shouting: he thrust back so forcefully that the smaller man nearly fell off of the bed; Malcolm felt as though he was trying to ride a wild horse.

But soon a near-feral grin appeared on Malcolm's face. Jon liked to play a little rough?—no problem. With fingers dug into the captain's hips as deeply as he could and still not leave a bruise, he began to pound into him earnestly.

While smaller than the other two men, Malcolm was definitely not weaker. Every movement of Jon's was answered with one thrust of his own; and it didn't take him long to push his captain over the edge. But now he was aware of what would come, and at the moment Jon reached his orgasm, Malcolm quickly covered his mouth with his hand.

So he couldn't understand what the other man yelled, but he felt the spasms of Jon's climax going directly to his own groin, and within seconds Malcolm followed him into a blinding completion.

He came sighing, crying, sobbing, moaning deep inside the other man's body, while Trip felt the warm splattering of Jon's come all over his stomach.

They collapsed together above Trip, who was still as hard as in the beginning. He heard the panting, the sighs, felt the breaths on his skin, and he was sure he could hammer a nail in the wall with his erection. After a few moments he felt someone leave the bed, following him with a turn of his blindfolded head. Soft music began playing, and Trip started a bit to feel a warm, moist washcloth gently cleaning him. A hand touched his face

Instinctively he moved into the caress, and felt his lover's lips on his own.

"Ready for the ride of your life, Yank?"

He heard the amused voice of his Englishman. And before he was able to reply, Trip felt himself being quickly lubed, then the velvety heat of his lover as Malcolm slowly impaled himself with Jon's careful assistance

Trip gasped at the sensations, then growled in frustration, straining against the bonds preventing his body from meeting Malcolm's halfway.

"Untie me and get down on your hands and knees, Lieutenant. I want to fuck you clear into next week."

Before he fell back on the bed, Trip felt his lover's body shake with badly-hidden laughter.

"Who said you'd be in control tonight, love?"

Trip felt torn between his growing desire to pound blindly into his beloved armory officer and the wish to be gently, carefully loved by these two extraordinary men.

The fact that what he wanted was completely irrelevant only fueled his arousal.

Suddenly, he felt his right wrist being released, and a voice whispered in his ear:

"Just this one. Don't try to undo the rest, okay? Please."

Nodding, Trip reached out blindly, trying to touch someone...anyone...until his fingers came into contact with smooth skin, lightly covered with hair.

He had no choice but to let his fingers see for him. Broad shoulders, strong chest; hair on that chest, so it was definitely not Malcolm. His hand roamed over the marvellous body, playing with its nipples, gently fondling them until he heard a strangled gasp, followed by a small shout. Now his hand wandered lower until it found its prize.

With an appreciative noise he closed his strong fingers around the reawakened erection of his friend, stroking it with steady pumping motions.

Jon let his head fall back, and let out strangled cries. His senses were on overload watching Malcolm clearly enjoy riding Trip to a breathtaking orgasm and Trip love every single second of it, the engineer trying to push his hips upward to meet Malcolm but unable to for the ribbons tying him to the bed.

And Jon saw Malcolm growing hard again almost immediately . Without hesitation, he laid himself down next to Trip and began to caress Malcolm's shaft, gently and lovingly at first, and soon passion took over.

The room was filled with moans, gasps, little shouts of ecstasy, and cries of unadulterated lust. In the air was the smell of sweat, of semen, the unmistakable odour of love.

Malcolm looked into the handsome face of his captain, totally lost in his desire, green eyes closed and hands doing magic to the Englishman's body—a sight that would be forever in Malcolm's mind. Tentatively he reached out, played with the silken strands of his captain's hair. He was rewarded with a deep, almost purring sound, as if he was stroking a giant cat, which he reminded Malcolm of. Jon's movements were always graceful, showing a barely hidden power behind every motion—and now he was concentrating all of this power on Malcolm, on his joy, treating him like something incredibly precious.

The knowledge of that made him come all over those amazingly talented hands. It was a quiet orgasm, soft as a summer's rain, but the little sounds he made were enough to give Trip the final kick he needed. With between a sob and a laughter, Trip came explosively. He remained like that for several seconds, his back arched, hips bucking into the soothing touch of Malcolm's hands, until he so very slowly came back to earth.

It took Trip only one last kiss to Jon's penis, and he lovingly swallowed the come from his friend's second climax.

For several minutes none of them spoke. Finally, Trip felt his second wrist and ankles released, and Jon whispered to him to close his eyes so he could remove the blindfold now.

Trip needed a few seconds of blinking to adjust to the dimmed light before he could take in the sight of his lover and his friend, very contentedly lying side by side. He opened his arms wide and without any word, both men snuggled close to his sides, Malcolm on his right, Jon on his left.

They remained like that for over an hour, listening to the music, basking in the afterglow of their lovemaking.

Jon knew that he should go. He had no right to be here any longer; these were Trip's quarters, Trip's and Malcolm's. He should get up, get dressed and leave the two men so they could fall asleep entangled in each other's arms, exchanging tender kisses before they switched out the light.

How he envied them.

He would go back to his cold and lonely quarters, with only Porthos waiting for him. Well, then the little fellow would be sleeping in his bed again, making his master feel a bit less lonely.

Just when he was about to rise, he felt the arm around his shoulder tighten, and Malcolm's hold of his hand didn't let go.

"Hey, where're you goin'?"

Trip's voice sounded a bit slurred, almost overcome by sleep.

"I...ah...I should go back now. You ought to sleep, and I don't want to disturb you any longer. Trip, how about breakfast tomorrow? In my ready room, 0830 hours?"

He tried his best to make it sound casual, to not sound as desperate as he felt. Now Malcolm raised his head, gazing at Trip for a few seconds until the American nodded, smiling. Then those amazing blue-gray eyes found his captain's.

"How about breakfast tomorrow? Here, at 0730 hours? Together with Trip and me?"

Jon swallowed hard. That was nice, very nice, a really nice thought. It would make the getting-up part easier, but not the going-to-sleep one. He nodded nonetheless, and tried again to get up…

…and found himself still held firmly in place by Trip's arm and Malcolm's hand. Now the Englishman smiled, but not his famous half smile; no, it was a smile blinding in its pureness, its joy, and its love.

"Stay the night, Jon. Please."

Jon could almost feel his jaw hit the floor.

"You're serious?"

Trip kissed him gently on the lips.

"No, we just wanted to see your face at the mere thought of it. Jonny, this is Malcolm. Malcolm Reed, our stiff Brit. The man who has more than twenty possible answers in his head before he even asks the question. We ARE serious. And now close your eyes and go to sleep. Good night. Good night, darlin'."

Jon heard a mumbled "Good night, love, good night, Jon.", and then the regular breathing told him that both men were already sound asleep.

Jon stared into the darkness, feeling the steady beating of Trip's heart under his ear, and the soft breathing of Malcolm on their joined hands.

Something had changed this night.

Though he wasn't quite sure how far this would go, or where it would lead the three of them, one thing was certain: their souls had connected on a deep and profound level. From now on, he would be able to sleep undisturbed again. He wouldn't be forced to re-live this night only in his fantasy again and again.

He would wake up tomorrow with two of the most loveable men in the whole world, hell, in the whole galaxy. Suddenly the future didn't seem so dark any more.

For he would no longer have to face it alone.

*** The end

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