Temperature Rising

by The Grrrl

Title: Temperature Rising

Author: The Grrrl

Author's email: thegrrrl2002@yahoo.com

Author's URL: http://www.geocities.com/coffeeslash/thegrrrl/

Archive: Ask first.

Fandom: Star Trek Enterprise

Pairing: Tucker/Reed

Rating: NC-17

Summary: Takes place after my 1.16 "Shuttlepod One" missing scene fic. Lieutenant Reed frets and fusses and begins a relationship with Commander Tucker.

Author's Notes: Special thanks to my betas, Robin Margolin and F. Cunningham for their reviews and encouragement.

'Hotter', thought Malcolm. He turned the water temperature up, luxuriating in the heat racing over his body. The water pounded his neck, his shoulders. He couldn't remember anything feeling quite this good. Except maybe for one thing. His thoughts turned once again to Trip Tucker. And despite the relaxing shower, he felt a knot form in his stomach.

He was convinced Trip regretted their moment of intimacy on the on the shuttle. It was desperate moment, that was all. Surely the Chief Engineer had come to realize that he made a mistake.

Not that they had a moment alone together since their return. Trip was released from sickbay the following day, but Malcolm had developed a viral infection, and the resulting high fever kept him trapped in sickbay for nearly a week.

Malcolm adjusted the water temperature yet even hotter, still feeling the chill of space in deep in his bones. He sat on the floor of the stall, letting the steaming water rain down on his body. Of course, Trip did return to sickbay to check on him several times, smiling, joking, teasing, even bringing Malcolm a slice of his beloved pecan pie. Which didn't necessarily mean anything. The others had visited him. Actually, a surprising number of the crew came to fuss over him. The captain himself checked on him several times. It was quite touching to see the concern in their faces. Trip had looked concerned, too. Probably trying to figure out a gracious way of letting him down easy.

Suddenly hot water became too much, and Malcolm felt vaguely nauseous.


He had been ordered to stay off duty for the next several days, but Malcolm decided he should at least catch up on the weapons maintenance logs. After his week in sickbay he was eager to do something, anything, other than think about Trip. He settled into his straight-backed chair, dressed comfortably in sweats and an old t-shirt, and pulled up the first report.

Thoughts of Trip's mouth on his came into his mind. The sound of Trip whispering his name. Shaking his head, Malcolm forcibly put those thoughts out of his mind and focused instead on the report in front of him. But he was still just reading the words without understanding them.

He stood up, paced the floor with the report in hand. Perhaps he should just go talk to the engineer. He sat on his bed. Maybe later. After the reports. Malcolm leaned back and began reading in earnest.

He woke disoriented, to the sound of his door chime. He sat up, tried to clear the fog from his brain. What was he doing? Then he saw the report. Hadn't gotten past the first page. The door chimed again. Curious, he called for the visitor to enter and got to his feet, stumbling.

The door opened and Commander Charles Tucker strode in, looking every bit the golden-haired Starfleet poster boy—in uniform, hair neatly combed, boots polished to a high sheen. Malcolm's stomach knotted up even tighter.

"Malcolm! It's about time you escaped from Sick Bay. How're ya feelin??" asked Trip, standing, arms folded, head cocked to one side. "Wait, did I wake you?" He looked Malcolm up and down, taking in his appearance. "Sorry 'bout that."

Malcolm acutely felt the contrast. He looked down at his bare feet. He probably had drool on his wrinkled shirt. "No, I was awake", he croaked. "Well, sort of." He cleared his throat. "What can I do for you, Commander Tucker?" he asked, as properly as he could muster in his disheveled state.

"Commander Tucker? That's mighty formal, considering where our mouths have been", said Trip with a grin. Then the grin fled. "Unless, of course, you'd rather just pretend all that didn't happen—"

"NO!" interrupted Malcolm, a touch frantically. "I just, well, I was so afraid you felt that way. That you regretted what we did." He felt a faint glimmer of hope.

"You are such a silly goose, Malcolm". Trip came across the room, and pulled Malcolm into his arms in a fierce, bone-crushing hug. "Darlin, the only thing I regret is not telling you how I felt sooner". He leaned back to kiss the dark-haired man, but then stopped. "There's something else buggin' ya?"

Malcolm's heart raced. He felt bloody marvelous in the other man's arms, but there was something else on his mind. "Trip," he said quietly. "You are my superior officer".


"So I'm not certain this is proper."

"Rumor has it that being proper is highly overrated," said Trip, with a mischievous twinkle in his eye. Noting the serious look on Malcolm's face, he sighed. "Listen, Malcolm. In the captain's book, and in my book, what officers do when they are off duty is nobody's god damned business. We are Starfleet's finest, perfectly capable of carrying on a relationship without it affecting how we behave while on duty."

Malcolm wasn't certain he could be so cavalier about it. But Trip had said 'carrying on a relationship.' They were to actually have a relationship. He felt dizzy with relief. "Perhaps you are right," he said, with a small, sly smile. Enveloped in the man's arms, he felt like anything was possible.

"Of course I'm right." Trip kissed him gently. Then broke away. "We can talk more about it later, if it will make you feel better. I gotta meet with the capt'n right now, and I'm probably late already. I just really needed to see you. Alone. Without the doctor and everyone else on the ship hovering about." But even as he spoke, his hands were sliding down Malcolm's back, reaching under the waistband of his sweats. Malcolm felt strong, firm hands caressing his ass. It was heavenly.

"Pity", whispered Malcolm, leaning into the other man. He closed his eyes, reveling in the sensation of Trip's body touching his.

Trip began to kiss him again, first his mouth, then his neck. He slid his hands around to lift Malcolm's shirt off. Then he knelt, trailing kisses down Malcolm's stomach. Malcolm groaned as his lover freed his erection.

"Mr. Tucker, I thought you had to meet with the Captain," Malcolm said, breathlessly.

"I'll just tell him something came up that I had to take care of."


Malcolm awoke once again to his door chime. He sat up with an odd sense of deja vu. As he looked for the report he should have been reading, he realized he was naked. And…sticky. Then he grinned at the memory of Trip sucking him off, then dashing off with a quick kiss. Now just where were his clothes?

The door chimed again, insistently. He finally located the items he had been wearing, pulled them on quickly and called for his visitor to enter.

Captain Jonathan Archer, Starfleet poster boy #2 walked in. "Malcolm—how are you?" Then after a moment "Sorry, did I wake you? I can come back another time."

"No, no sir, I'm just…" stammered Malcolm. 'Screwing your best friend?' he thought to himself. He was suddenly quite certain he had put his shirt on backwards, but couldn't think of any graceful way to check it. "I was just reading some reports, and I must have dozed off." He ran his fingers through his hair, leaving it even more rumpled. Starfleet's finest, indeed, he thought wryly.

The captain seemed to find something about the situation rather amusing. "At ease, Lieutenant. No need to look so guilty, you are still on sick leave. I don't expect you to be reading though reports—hell, those will do in the healthiest man".

Malcolm allowed himself a brief smile. "Yes, sir."

The captain leaned his long body against Malcolm's desk. "The reason I came by was to invite you to dinner tonight at my table, if you are feeling up to it yet".

Malcolm felt a twinge in his gut. But he couldn't think of a good way to bow out gracefully. "I'm feeling fine, sir, and thank you, it would be an honor," he lied.

"Good!" The captain really did look pleased. "Trip is agitating for steak again, but being you are the guest of honor I think you should suggest the meal."

Of course Trip would be there. "Really, sir, whatever you are having would be fine".

"Nonsense". Archer dismissed his response with a wave of his hand. "Cook can make almost anything—fish, chicken—how about a good chicken curry?"

"Curry would be delightful, sir".

"Good! I'll see you at 6:30 then. Bring a hearty appetite."

As if he'd be able to eat at all. The captain left, and Malcolm sat on the bed, feeling unsettled and more than a little apprehensive. He checked his shirt, which was indeed on correctly. Dinner with his captain, the captain's best friend, chief engineer and his lover. It was going to be a crowded table.


Temperature Rising (Part 2 of 2)

"Sorry you guys had to go through that. It must have been awful." Jonathan Archer said sympathetically. "That will be all, thanks," he said to the ensign serving their food.

"Hey, we survived. And somethin' good came of it" Trip smiled broadly at Malcolm.

Malcolm froze.

"Don't worry, Malcolm, John knows about us," said Trip.

Malcolm looked up at the Captain, who nodded and mumbled through a mouthful of curry.

"Aw, Malcolm, you are so darn cute when you blush," Trip was enjoying himself.

Malcolm didn't know whether to be furious or relieved.

"Really, Malcolm, it's alright," assured the Captain. As a matter of fact, I knew Trip had feelings for you long before you did."

Malcolm finally found his voice. "And who else on this ship knows?" he demanded of Trip.

"No one," replied Trip, taken aback. "No one else needs to know, if you don't want them to."

The room was silent, and Malcolm toyed with his food for a moment. Then he thought for a moment. It obviously wasn't a big concern to the Captain. Or to Trip. He sighed "Sorry to be such an arse. I'm just not used to be so open about these things."

The other two men relaxed. Trip patted him on the shoulder. John said, "Well, you obviously never served on a ship with me before. I just want my crew to be happy. And, quite frankly, Trip was getting pretty pathetic—mooning over you constantly."

"Hey, I was not moonin'"

The captain leaned towards Malcolm "You know, he would just heave this huge sigh every time you left the room, " he said, conspiratorially.

As Trip continued to protest, Malcolm began to smile.


As soon as the lift's door closed, Trip turned and swooped in and planted a firm kiss on Malcolm's lips, his tongue lingering only for a moment as the lift slowed for its next stop. By time the door opened and the waiting group entered, Trip was leaning back relaxed, greeting them. Malcolm on the other hand, could only gasp for breath and thrust his hands into his pockets, trying to keep his erection from being too obvious. He tried to glare at the grinning man but failed. He was far too pleased with himself. Finally the lift stopped at their level. As they walked Trip leaned towards him and murmured "My place".

As soon as the door shut behind them Trip grabbed Malcolm by the shoulders and began kissing him. Malcolm returned the passionate kiss then stepped back and said lightly "Commander, it's time you got out of that uniform."

Trip gave him a small salute "Yessir".

Malcolm watched in delight as Trip slipped off his boots and started peeling off his uniform. He still couldn't quite believe this man wanted him. Finally Trip stood in front of him, somewhat self-consciously, wearing only a smile and a huge erection. Malcolm felt his breath catch. The man was simply gorgeous—slim waist, broad muscular shoulders. He felt pale and shapeless in comparison.

He reached out and ran a hand across Trip's chest. "You are so beautiful," he said softly, awe in his voice. He wanted the man, wanted to possess every inch of him.

Trip beamed at him, obviously pleased by the Malcolm's admiration. "I think one of us is still overdressed," he said, as he started pulling off Malcolm's uniform. Finally they were both naked.

Malcolm gasped as their bodies touched. The feel of skin on skin was electrifying. They kissed, nuzzled, rubbed against each other until his head was spinning with desire. He turned Trip around and began kissing the man's broad back, then knelt and slid his hands down, cupping Trip's tight ass. He nibbled and kissed, then, parting the cheeks, ran his tongue down the crack until he was licking the round, tight opening.

Trip moaned. "My God that feels so good, Malcolm, don't stop—oh…"

Malcolm eventually did stop, and gently pushed Trip over to the bed. "Do you have any—"

Trip was already pawing through a drawer, then triumphantly held up a tube of lubricant. He tossed it to Malcolm. Seeing him hesitate for a moment, Trip said "Baby, I'm all yours, any way you want me."

The tone of Trip's voice made Malcolm's heart skip a beat. He had plenty of ideas of how he wanted the other man. He guided Trip to the bed, kissed him hard, and then leaned him back. He reached over and sucked hard on each nipple, drawing cries of delight. As he worked his mouth on the man's chest, his fingers were working on his tight ass, getting the other man lubricated and ready. He reveled in the sound of Trip's moaning.

When Malcolm was sure he was prepared he entered carefully, slowly. The pleasure was exquisite. Trip's ass was hot, deliciously tight. He gradually pushed himself in up to the full length of his shaft. It felt too good. He struggled for control as he slowly began to slide in and out. He watched, fascinated, as the handsome man beneath him closed his eyes and whimpered. He pushed up against Malcolm again and again, until Malcolm had to grab the other man's hips.

"Hold still," he gasped "or else this is going to be over before we get started."

Trip opened his eyes. "So then we'll just have to get started all over again," he said, panting, blue eyes twinkling.

"Being that I'm on top, I get to make the rules," responded Malcolm. "And you are going to hold still". He wasn't going to let his golden boy get away with anything. He leaned his weight onto Trip's hips, stilling the movement. Rope, he thought. Was it too soon to start suggesting such additions to their lovemaking?

"Malcolm, you just keep unfolding like a flower," said Trip. "I just love the way you bark out the orders."

"Commander, you'd better watch that attitude or else I may never let you come," Malcolm said firmly. Bound and a gagged. What a lovely image. But not very helpful when trying to pull himself back from the brink.

Trip looked at him speculatively. "You know, I almost believe that." But he obediently held still.

Malcolm closed his eyes and concentrated on a quiet, peaceful image an asteroid field. Finally he was able to release his grip, and began to thrust again. Shifting his weight, he freed one hand to begin stroking the length of Trip's shaft, slick with lube, pausing only when Trip got too close. He watched in delight as Trip thrust up against him, begging him not to stop. He prolonged his lover's pleasure until it became too much for him to bear, and as he felt himself reaching a climax, he brought his lover over the edge with him.

They lay together afterwards, sweating and breathless, bodies touching. "Malcolm," said Trip, "I never felt so thoroughly fucked in my entire life."

He propped himself up on his elbow, and looked down on Malcolm. "Did you enjoy dinner?" he asked, looked worried. He touched Malcolm's face, then gently stroked his cheek. He continued, "Hope you don't mind the Capt'n knowing about us and all. He really is a good guy. And he did pick up on it way before the shuttle flight. As a matter of fact I don't think it was coincidence we were alone on that flight together".

Malcolm thought for a minute, then responded. "The captain playing matchmaker? You are kidding, right?"

Trip simply grinned and gave a little shrug. "We're good friends."

Malcolm took Trip's hand in his and kissed it. "Actually, once I got used to the fact he knew and didn't make a fuss over it, I was very comfortable. As I said, that is something I'm not used to."

"Can I ask you something else? Your parents weren't exactly the warm and fuzzy type, were they?" asked Trip, looking concerned.

Malcolm stiffened. "No, they are not," he said tightly.

Trip, realizing he had wandered into dangerous territory, began speaking more quickly. "Well, I can't imagine what that would be like. I just can't wait to introduce you to the whole Tucker clan when we get back. I know they'll be just as crazy about you as I am…"

Malcolm felt a touch panicky. He could imagine them all—several generations of golden-haired, rambunctious, affectionate Tuckers surrounding him, beaming at him. Good Lord.

"…family reunion coming up. Last year there were 300 of us! I'm gonna see if I can get the captain to OK a link to the park so I can join in on the fun for just a few minutes at least. Hey—I think you should…" Trip belatedly noticed the look on Malcolm's face. "Oh. Am I going a little too fast here?" he asked.

Malcolm, much to his surprise, began laughing. "No", he said. "Not at all. You are marvelous, you know that?"

Instead of answering, Trip kissed him.

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