He was bored out of his mind. Who knew shoreleave with Malcolm Reed could be so boring? Usually it seemed everywhere they went together, trouble followed close behind. But then, he should have figured it was only a matter of time before they hit a slump and managed not to be shot at or frozen or mugged while wandering off alone together. It was a relief, of course, because Trip would rather be bored than dead. Yet, all the same, he wouldn't have minded a little excitement. Just a little. He couldn't take sitting here watching his drink swirl in his glass for much longer. There was plain old boring and then there was mind numbingly dull. His own thoughts seemed to simply dangle, motionless, as if his mind had been frozen by the lack of stimulation. Hell, at this point he would have welcomed even a surprise visit from T'Pol, which was saying something coming from him.

Trip tossed a glance over at Malcolm. The other man looked just as bored stiff. He was playing with the wooden toothpick in his drink, dipping one end in the liquid and then lifting it out a few millimeters. Was he actually counting the drops as they fell off his toothpick?

They were pathetic.

Trip sighed and shifted in his overstuffed chair. He looked across his hotel room and the absurdly hanging bed to the open balcony doorway. He could see straight out into the bay just a few kilometers away. He could even spot one of the planet's moons and figured at least two others would be up by now.

"They're not coming," Malcolm stated bluntly.

"Maybe they got lost." Trip tried his best to sound optimistic, but he knew Malcolm was right.

"On their way from the hotel lounge to your room?" Malcolm asked. He cocked an eyebrow at Trip.

"Okay, so they have ditched us." Trip grumbled and returned his attention to his drink. "Can we be that repulsive?"

"Seems so…"

Great, no women, and now he was stuck with a self-loathing Malcolm. Trip looked over at Malcolm still playing with his drink. At least one thing seemed to be normal. They were still horrible at picking up women together. Alone, Trip could do all right, certainly better than his track record with Malcolm along, and Malcolm had been no slouch either back in San Francisco, although not one for long term relationships. Together, however, they had to fight to catch women's eyes. What was it about them that put women off?

Trip frowned before noticing both of their drinks were running low. He hauled himself up onto his feet and walked the two steps to the coffee table. "At least we got some liquor out of it. What did those girls call it?"

"Something along the lines of Tamal. And I'd hardly call it liquor. It is really nothing more than sugar water."

"Colored sugar water," Trip corrected, pouring himself another glass of the red liquid. "Maybe it just doesn't affect the human anatomy for some reason. Those girls were raving about it when they handed the bottle over." He turned to Malcolm. "More?"

Malcolm sighed and held out his glass. "No offense, Trip, but I'm going to have to start spending my shoreleaves with Travis if this record of ours keeps up."

Trip snorted. "I do recall havin' better luck going out barhopping with Jon than with you." He reached out to steady Malcolm's glass.

"I don't know what it is about us—"

Trip's hold jostled as he started to refill Malcolm's drink. His fingers slipped and he made contract with Malcolm's hand. He was completely unprepared for the electric spark that seemed to jump between them. A warm sensation spread quickly up his arm and across his chest, making its way not unpleasantly down his stomach. The phenomenon was intense and surprising.

Both bottle and glass instantly dropped as Trip and Malcolm jerked back.

"Shit," Malcolm sputtered, standing up. He wiped at his now stained and wet pants.

What the hell just happened? Trip stared at Malcolm for a moment, stunned. That was no normal electrostatic shock. He could still feel his skin tingling. His fingers itched to touch Malcolm, see if it would happen again, but Malcolm was busy fussing with his pants. They'd both jumped back. Had Malcolm felt it too?

"Here, um, let me get you a towel or something." Trip glanced around the room trying to remember where the bathroom was located.

"Forget it; they're ruined." Malcolm glanced up for the first time and met Trip's eyes, pausing as he watched Trip for a moment. "You felt that…spark too?"

Trip's face had always been easy to read. Trip nodded. He took a step closer to Malcolm and then halted at Malcolm's unreadable look. "Think it'll happen again?"

Malcolm hesitated, inspecting his own hand, before reaching out and cautiously touching his fingertips lightly onto Trip's shoulder. Nothing. There was pressure and warmth but nothing out of the ordinary. Both men let out held breaths.

"Must've been a fluke."

"Perhaps we should see Phlox regardless."

"And disturb his vacation? Just because our shoreleave is boring doesn't mean we have to ruin someone else's." Trip reached to remove Malcolm's hand from his shoulder, meaning to bend down and clean up what he could of the spilled drink, when his hand touched Malcolm's. With whole fingers pressed against Malcolm's skin, the shock was ten times as intense.

Trip gasped and locked eyes with Malcolm. He could see mirrored surprise and pleasure reflected in Malcolm's eyes—eyes that usually guarded Malcolm's emotions so well. It was startlingly different to see Malcolm's thoughts right on the surface.

Warmth, like that of a dozen caressing hands, spread up Trip's arm and down his chest once more, taking a very direct erotic route south. Trip struggled to keep from vocalizing his pleasure, but it was getting harder and harder to stay quiet. As they kept their hold on one another, the sensation seemed to pulse, almost in time with Trip's heartbeat. It was the most intensely erotic touch he'd ever felt, and they were only holding hands. Trip swallowed hard and managed to squeak, "Maybe we should see Phlox…"

Malcolm went rigid when Trip spoke, eyes losing their blissful daze, and he visibly struggled to pull his hand away from Trip's. He seemed thoroughly disappointed when he finally managed to let go. Trip couldn't blame him. The intensity of the sensation running through him dropped immediately after they broke contact; nothing but a tingling reminder remained. Malcolm sounded short of breath as he asked, "Do you believe this could be harmful to us? That we've been drugged or something?"

"I don't know." Trip glanced at his own hand. It looked fine. He didn't feel ill or drugged. He just really, really wanted to touch Malcolm again. That should have been a disturbing thought, since he'd never been desperate to touch Malcolm or any other man for that matter, but he was open minded. It certainly didn't hurt that simply touching Malcolm made him feel as if he was burning from the inside out, in a good way. "I don't think it's harmful." Trip ran his fingers through his hair, needing to do something with his hands before he reached out for Malcolm.

Malcolm blinked and shook his head, as if he had something in his hair, then sighed and ran a hand over his face.

It was Trip's turn to blink. He could feel it. He could feel Malcolm's hand running over Malcolm's face. The mirrored sensation sent a thrill down Trip's spine. "Damn…" Malcolm stopped and looked at Trip. "What?"

"This." Trip carefully ran his own finger along his own jaw, then up his right cheek into a spiraling circle.

Malcolm's eyes widened as he lightly touch his own cheek. "How…?"

"I don't know," Trip repeated. The urge to touch Malcolm again was nearly overwhelming. Trip allowed himself to run his fingers down his own neck, watching Malcolm suck in a breath as he simultaneously felt the touch. "This is a little creepy…but it does feel good."

"That's an understatement," Malcolm sighed, then swallowed nervously, looking surprised he'd said that allowed. He was kind of cute when he was nervous. Malcolm flicked a look around the room, as if expecting to find someone watching them, judging them. "Perhaps this is a diversionary tactic of some sort."

"If it is, it's working." Trip continued rubbing at his own neck. He struggled to keep his hands occupied. Malcolm shifted uncomfortably, having the sensations mirrored on his own skin. "Malcolm, if we call Phlox, he'll stop whatever's doing this, and…I don't know if I want it to stop." He took another step closer to Malcolm. Malcolm eyed him but didn't move away.

All Trip could think about was touching every inch of Malcolm's bare skin that he could get his hands on. Again, he realized the thought should have surprised him, but at the moment he really didn't care if Malcolm was a man. He just wanted him—pressed beneath him, bare chest to bare chest, writhing against him. Trip shivered at the idea.

Trip took a deep breath, watching Malcolm struggle to keep eye contact with him being so close, and dove in. Let it never be said he didn't try out new things. Trip cupped Malcolm's face. A jolt of pleasure flowed down his arm and across his chest, accompanied by the same odd feeling that someone else was simultaneously touching his own face. The uncertainly look in Malcolm's eyes shifted to the familiar daze of pleasure again, and Trip couldn't help himself any longer.

Malcolm's lips were surprisingly soft and parted easily with just a little urging from Trip's tongue. Trip's lips were tingling, the warm sensation flowing down his throat and meeting up with the warmth running up his arm and across his chest. Warm tingling spread throughout his body, making a very deliberate route for Trip's growing erection. He couldn't have stopped from moaning even if he'd tried. His pants tight, room stiflingly hot, and air at a premium, Trip still couldn't pull away from the kiss. It felt too good to stop.

Then Malcolm flicked his tongue over Trip's as he kissed back, giving in with a grunt, and wove fingers into the back of Trip's hair. He pressed tight against Trip and whimpered when their bodies made contact.

Shit, he could come just kissing Malcolm fully clothed. Trip groaned as he ended the kiss panting for control. The pleasure coursing through him lessened a notch as their lips parted. His hands moved of their own accord to Malcolm's back and caressed their way down. Ghost hands played along Trip's own back. "Malcolm, I…" He licked his own bruised lips and felt Malcolm shiver against him. God, it was hard to concentrate enough to speak. "Never been…with a guy before, but…" He glanced over at the seductively hanging bed in the middle of the room. It dangled from four sturdy chains, one attaching to each corner. Red silk sheets begged to caress bare skin. He looked back to Malcolm. "Would ya like to, uh, maybe, if you don't have any objections of course, and don't mind—"

"Trip, you talk too much," Malcolm growled. Or was it more of a purr? In any case, Malcolm was kissing him, probably the best course of action to shut Trip up, and working at the buttons to Trip's Hawaiian shirt.

Trip had no objections to cutting the small talk. He returned the fierce kiss, biting at Malcolm's lower lip, warring with Malcolm's tongue. He shrugged off his shirt when Malcolm managed to get it unbuttoned and slid palms underneath Malcolm's black cotton shirt. He groaned deeply at the erotic pulse of pleasure going up both his arms, along with the mirrored touch on his own stomach. They reluctantly broke the kiss to pull Malcolm's shirt off.

"I don't know if I can take much more of this, Malcolm."

"Neither can I." Malcolm had a beautifully predatory gleam in his eyes. Malcolm had never looked at him like this before, and Trip had to say he quite liked being on the receiving end. Malcolm pressed Trip back toward the bed and urged him to sit down.

Trip easily complied, adjusting the tight fit of his jeans. Malcolm caught the move and dropped to his knees in front of him. He went straight for Trip's right nipple. Shit, did Malcolm know how to use his tongue. Malcolm moaned softly as he worked from one nipple to the other. Obviously having a ghosting mouth on his own chest was doing a number on Malcolm. Trip leaned back onto his elbows as Malcolm headed south. A warm pulse originated from each kiss and press of Malcolm's lips to Trip's skin, fading and being renewed with each move downward.

Malcolm reached the hem of his jeans and licked at the last bit of exposed skin. Trip watched in a daze as Malcolm unbuttoned Trip's jeans. He hitched his hips up obligingly when Malcolm tugged to get both pants and briefs off.

Malcolm only hesitated a moment before expertly licking his way up Trip's shaft. Trip's hips jerked up instantly, wave after wave of pleasure coursing through him. Both men moaned. Trip collapsed back onto the bed, lost in the sensation of Malcolm's warm mouth wrapping around the head of his penis. In his mouth he could feel the way his cock felt, the velvety hardness against Malcolm's tongue. He could hear and feel Malcolm desperately trying to get out of his own jeans without stopping his ministrations on Trip. Malcolm must have had a man or two in his past because he was damn good at what he was doing now. Malcolm stroked the length of him while sucking and playing with his head.

Just as the intense pleasure nearly became painful, Malcolm pulled back gasping, head buried against Trip's left thigh. Trip sat up and managed to register ghosting fingers stroking his cock. He looked down to see the last of Malcolm's orgasm, stroking and squeezing himself.

"Sorry, sorry," Malcolm sighed and shuddered as he slowed his hand to a stop. "I just couldn't…I could feel my lips and my hand on me at the same time and just couldn't help myself."

Trip was suddenly grinning. A desperate, undisciplined Malcolm—he liked the sound of that. He tugged at Malcolm shoulders and pulled the man up with him on the bed. It swayed gently as they settled down. Trip pinned Malcolm beneath him, chest to chest. He gasped for breath as more skin than ever touched. His whole body seemed to pulse with pleasure. At once he felt as if he was pressing down against Malcolm, and yet Malcolm was pressing down on him. He could feel the cool air from the open balcony on his back, and at the same time the soft pressure of the mattress and bedding. It was surreal. It was intoxicating.

He buried his face against Malcolm's neck and could feel breath ghosting against his own neck. He shivered. After a moment, he managed to get a tight enough hold on his sanity to move. He rocked himself against Malcolm. Malcolm whimpered and rubbed his renewing erection up against Trip.

"Up for another turn?" Trip purred.

"Always," he heard Malcolm whisper, then he groaned and clung to Trip's shoulders. He panted breathlessly, "Lube. Do you have any?"

Trip struggled to remember. "In my duffle bag." He whined pitifully. "Don't make me go look for it."

"Never mind then." Malcolm actually chuckled and grinned a little. He had a nice laugh and a nicer smile. Malcolm pulled him in for another kiss. He had even nicer lips.

Trip pressed himself firmly on top of Malcolm, making sure to press against every inch of skin he could find. The pleasure was almost unbearable. It pulsed through him, racing along with his heart, and settled in his already aching erection pinned between them. He broke the kiss and sucked gently at Malcolm's neck, the same pressure pulling at Trip's.

Malcolm was hard again and gasping for breath, grinding his hips against Trip's. He turned his head and met Trip's eyes. Malcolm's hair was ruffled, his eyes glowing with pleasure and desire. Trip had never seen a man look so gorgeous and stare so intently at him. "Fuck me," Malcolm suddenly whispered. "Please, if we can last that long."

"I've never—" Trip tried to protest.

"It's easy. A little saliva should do us, unless you want me to go find the lube—"

"No!" Trip pinned Malcolm down tighter beneath him, the bed swing slightly at the disturbance. "Don't you dare leave this bed, Malcolm." He stared back at Malcolm. Their breath mingled as they panted heavily. Trip was so turned on, so ready to come. Was it safe to go buck wild and fuck Malcolm? What if he couldn't keep enough control not to hurt the other man? He knew enough that anal sex could be dangerous and it could hurt. But then, with the physical connection they had at the moment, anything that hurt Malcolm would hurt him too. That would help keep him in check. The thought was reassuring, and Trip swallowed down another moan at the thought of burying himself inside Malcolm. He never did back down from a chance to try something new…"What do I do?" Malcolm licked his lips and a shiver went down Trip at the simultaneous ghosting lick on his own lips. Malcolm deftly broke the hold Trip had on him and rolled them onto their sides, flipping to press his back to Trip's chest. "Give me your hand."

Trip swallowed. Malcolm sure knew how to take charge of a situation. It was exciting to be in a bed together with someone who could so easily break his hold on him. He reached around and Malcolm took his hand, bringing it up to his lips. Trip let out a long, ragged breath as Malcolm suckled on his fingers, licking and wetting each one. Malcolm was purring softly as he licked at Trip's palm, and Trip decided he really liked hearing Malcolm purr.

Trip's hand thoroughly slicked, Malcolm moved it back between them. "Just like this," Malcolm instructed. He circled Trip's ring finger around his anus, then pressed it in to the first knuckle.

"Shit," Trip gasped. He jerked as he felt a simultaneous finger press into his own ass. Malcolm took the opportunity to push Trip's finger in completely. Trip whimpered. He was going to fuck and get fucked at the same time. Surreal didn't cover it. "I can't do this. I'm gonna come."

"Just concentrate on stretching me out. Add another finger and scissor them."

Trip dutifully did so, struggling to keep his mind on the task at hand. When told, he added another finger. Malcolm was so tight and hot. Trip was already achingly hard. He wasn't going to last. There was no way he could last. Then he accidentally rubbed his fingers against a spot inside Malcolm that sent both of them into deep moans. Trip rushed to squeeze the base of his penis and stall his impending climax. He managed to calm himself enough to pant, "Please say you're ready."

"I'm loose enough." Malcolm slicked up his own hand and reached around, spreading saliva onto Trip's cock. Both rocked their hips in time with the brushing strokes. "Go as slow as you can. I won't last long either." He lifted his left leg and twined it back onto Trip's. Trip scooted up against Malcolm again, nearly losing himself in the warm pleasure as his chest pressed to Malcolm's back, then he positioned his cock against Malcolm's stretched opening and pushed in. It still seemed unbelievably tight. The mirrored sensation in his own ass nearly undid him. It was incredible.

Malcolm was trembling beside him, too far gone for words. He reached up and clung desperately to one of the chains holding up the bed, biceps flexing as he tried to relax his lower body.

Trip finally sunk his way completely into Malcolm with a shudder. "Oh god," Trip gasped and pressed his face against the back of Malcolm's neck. He could feel himself inside Malcolm, hot and tight around his cock, and he could feel the long, stretching pressure of a cock inside his own ass. He wrapped his arms around Malcolm's chest, needing to hold onto something solid. He rocked his hips and couldn't see straight as the pleasure mounted, so he clamped his eyes shut. "Malcolm, Malcolm," he could hear himself moaning over and over.

His whole body felt like it was radiating with pleasure. He was swimming in heat, inside and out. He was Malcolm and Malcolm was him. He could feel everything. Every touch, every gasp, every thrust. The pleasure was overwhelming. He tried his best to concentrate on his rocking hips. He tried not to drown in all the sensations. He tried not to come. But then he could hear and feel Malcolm climaxing, Malcolm's body milking him relentlessly. Trip gave in. He came hard, engulfed in pleasure, losing himself inside Malcolm, before blacking out.

***

Trip woke up alone. He startled and sat up, the bed swaying and creaking with his movement. Malcolm's clothes were gone from the floor. He looked quickly around the room. It was early morning and the sun had just come up. Light spilled in the still open balcony door. Even so, he could see a light was on in the bathroom, the door shut. Trip let out a long breath and relaxed back down on the bed.

What had he been so worried about anyway? That Malcolm would've left for his own room during the night? What would it have mattered if he had? Trip stared up at the golden ceiling, rubbing his forehead.

A recognizable headache made itself known. So the drink last night had been alcoholic enough to give him a hangover. The drink…Was it that drink that had caused what happened last night? He struggled to recall what the two women had said when handing it over. Something about making their night memorable. At the time Trip and Malcolm had thought they meant the women would make the night memorable, but now Trip was certain they were talking about the drink.

Last night. Trip shivered at the memories. It was the most intense sexual experience he'd ever had in his life. And it had been with Malcolm. Malcolm. The same man that irritated the hell out of him most days. The same man who drooled over T'Pol's behind. The same man who wouldn't freely admit to liking pineapple, let alone another human being. What the hell had he gotten himself into?

There was a click and Trip twisted to see Malcolm come out of the bathroom, fully clothed. He stalled when he saw Trip awake, then busied himself brushing fingers through his hair. "Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you."

Trip sighed as he realized he couldn't simultaneous feel Malcolm's fingers running through his hair. The effects of the drink must have worn off. He pulled the sheets up around his midsection as he carefully sat up, head pounding slightly from his headache. "You didn't wake me."

Malcolm nodded. He looked nervous. Really nervous. And sad. Why was he sad? "Well." He strode for the exit. "I'll be packing if you need me."

"Malcolm?" Trip watched as Malcolm froze at the door and forced himself to turn back to face him. "About last night—"

"There's no need to discuss that, Commander."

Commander? The hell Malcolm was going to brush him off. "Oh, don't you start this." Trip stood, swayed at the pounding in his head, and reached to steady himself with one of the chains for the bed. "Don't you pull ranks on me, Malcolm. Call me Trip."

Malcolm looked down at the carpeting, both at the reprimand and Trip's nude state. "Sorry…Trip. I just don't think there's anything to discuss."

"Nothing to discuss?" Trip wondered aloud. Hadn't the night before been just as mind-blowing for Malcolm? He looked around for his briefs. "I have the best night of my life and you want to run away and forget about it?" He found his briefs on the other side of the bed and yanked them on.

"Precisely," was Malcolm's clipped reply.

Trip stalked his way over to the man. "Why?"

"Why?" Malcolm played dumb.

"Why forget? Why run away?" Trip frowned. "You're disgusted about last night? Can't believe you slept with me?"

"Yes. No. I mean," Malcolm sighed. "I enjoyed myself…immensely, but you're hardly someone who's going to be interested in more."

"No?" Trip shot him a look. "God Malcolm, you're so damned scared of everyone all the time." Trip sighed and his features softened. "I'd actually really like to hear you purr again. And laugh. And smile at me. Don't run away, Malcolm."

Malcolm started at Trip's words, then shook his head. "You're not interested in men," Malcolm defended.

"Not usually. Never really occurred to me." Trip took a step closer to Malcolm. He smelled good freshly showered. "But after last night, I might have to rethink a few things."

"We were drugged."

"Just lent us a helping hand."

"Trip," Malcolm warned. "I can't take…being some grand experiment of yours. Lets just end things on a nice note."

"You walkin' out and forgettin' everything that happened was supposed to be a nice note?" Trip accused.

"I was just trying—"

"To run out on me, I know. Listen carefully, Malcolm. I like you. I want you. I might be new to all this, but don't push me away." Before Malcolm could answer, Trip kissed him, hard. It was different than the night before, but Malcolm still had gorgeous, kissable lips.

Malcolm stiffened and made to pull away, but Trip cupped the back of his head, keeping him in place. Trip licked at his lips and double his efforts on the kiss. Malcolm grumbled through the kiss before finally returning it.

Trip tried not to look smug as nipped at Malcolm's lips. "I do nothin' for ya?"

Malcolm sighed and met Trip's gaze. "I've noticed you for months now. I simply figured you would never notice me."

"You figured wrong," Trip reassured. He leaned his forehead against Malcolm's, keeping the other man's gaze. "Last night was…incredible. I know it won't be exactly like that always, but you have to give me a chance, Malcolm. I can't stop cold turkey."

Malcolm snorted softly, then gave a hesitant half-grin. "You're sure? You and me?"

"Positive." Trip smiled. "You know, you're cute when you're nervous."

Malcolm blushed a little. "I am not cute."

"Yes you are." Trip smirked and looked down at himself. "I guess I should get dressed. Shuttlepod will be here in a few to pick us up."

Malcolm nodded. "You could drop by my room when you're packed…"

"Sounds like a plan." Trip stole another kiss before allowing Malcolm to walk out the door.

Letting out a long breath, Trip looked around his room. A red stain caught his attention. He walked over and picked up the half empty bottle of Tamal. This was some damn potent stuff. He looked around for the cork and then set it down on the coffee table. They wouldn't need any more of this stuff, not any time soon anyway. It would take ages for him to recover. Who knew touch could be so overwhelming? But maybe Jon could use some Tamal…