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Archer huffs as he holds himself over Trip. Sweat drips from his hair onto Trip’s back. He watches as one drop slowly glides down Trip’s back, hitting another and gaining speed. It races down as if having someplace to go. Just like they had the moment they got back from finishing the kreetassans’ home planet. It’s getting harder to keep this up between the long withstanding pauses. Such is the life of two commanding officers on a deep space mission. Guilt would be ringing in his head if it wasn’t for the fact that he could visibly see Trip shaking, struggling to keep himself up, and at the perfect angle. The other man had finished several minutes ago. All it took was a few well-placed licks, and Archer’s hands keeping very busy. They still felt numb and slightly tingling from the chainsaw. He thrusts once, twice more before he’s spent.
Pushing himself in till Trip’s ass meets his thighs, Archer’s sighs with a deep relief. His forehead rests against one of Trip’s shoulder blades. “You gonna stay up there all day captain?”
“Hah,” it was just as much an exhalation of breath as it was a laugh. “Give me a second will you?”
“I’m not complaining, just wonderin’ is all.”
“Clearly.” Archer jokes. Even though he’s spent, Archer still enjoys the sensation of going soft inside of Trip. Waiting in Trip like this is warm.
When he does finally pull out Archer flops onto his back. He lays a hand against his forehead, and just breathes. Out here there’s so many boring moments. During so few of them does he feel like he’s really existing? Never really like this.
His body is so, well, relaxed. It’s hard to think of any word better for it. A true gift after the last few days he’s had. Damn Phlox was right. He needed this, and the doctor wasn’t even entirely wrong regarding whom he wanted it with. Okay so he wasn’t wrong at all. Trip lays on his stomach. Archer reflexively reaches out. His fingers splay out within Trip’s hair. Trip buries his face within his crossed arms.
“Well someone was eager.”
“Oh I knew it was on the moment I saw that wink.” Trip’s eyes are shut. He looks half asleep. “Which wasn’t part of the ritual by the way.” Despite his exhaustion, the engineer still manages to have a quip. Archer shakes his head. Of course he does.
“I know, but after the days I’ve had I needed something.” It was well worth the risk. He can say that now in the comfort of his room. Though if that had ruined the apology in any way it might have made Archer break.
“Yeah, or someone.” Trip teases, cracking open an eye.
Archer rolls onto his side. He rubs a hand into Trip’s back, coaxing him to close that eye again. It really has been far too long. “I knew you were busy.”
“Still you just had to come find me.”
He’s right. Archer knows that. It was a stroll down the hall. A late night visit with dozens of eyes glancing his way. He could have called Trip up, or maybe even visited him in engineering. There were so many ways he could have approached his building sexual stress.
If he had done any of that, then he wouldn’t have had the realization he did. About them and T'Pol. Maybe now’s the time to have that conversation.
Archer looks at Trip. His chest grows unbearably tight.
“No I couldn’t. Not with everything that happened to Porthos after-” he smacks his lips together. “Yeah.” Or maybe not. Sometimes it is easier to evade.
“I know.” Trip looks over at the dog bed. “I’m surprised he’s still asleep.”
Archer follows his gaze. Porthos is still sleeping soundly. Typically he had gotten up and hung out in a different part of the room. Biting down on his favorite toy. His chest steadily rises and falls. He’s still breathing. Archer couldn’t be more grateful for that. “He’s had a long weekend.”
“Haven’t we all.” Trip mumbles. Soon he’ll be asleep too.
Archer lays back down on his back. His eyes scour the ceiling, looking for answers. Everything with the kreetassans had been emotionally, physically, and mentally tiring. It was also an important lesson in humility. He had gone down there, feeling indignant. Put upon unfairly. Of course Hoshi and T'Pol saw that. What doesn’t T'Pol see?
Had she seen the emotions he feared were written on his face? The source of his bullheadedness. Why he had been so tense?
If so, what did she think?
Mind racing, Archer blurts out, “Do you still want T'Pol to join in?”
Trip props himself up on his elbows. “You serious?”
He’s wide awake now.
“Were you?” Archer asks, not wanting to answer it himself.
“Yeah. Yeah, I was I just thought-” His voice trails off. Trip must’ve thought that Archer was worried by his reaction. Well at least this keeps him from having to answer the obvious. Trip lowers his head and opens his hands to express the doubt that he is unable to shrug through.
Archer laughs lightly. It’s a short bout. He raises his head towards the ceiling and stretches a hand back to hold his own head. “I had a dream about her.”
“Did you now?” A cheshire like grin grows on Trip’s face. He’s worse than a schoolboy gossiping about crushes.
“Don’t look at me like that.”
“I’m not looking at you like anything.” What a blatant lie, but Trip doesn’t give Archer a chance to call him on it. “So what kind of dream was it?”
“It was more like a nightmare. Porthos died,” Archer stops when he sees the teasing attitude drain out of Trip’s face. Yeah not the best way to start, but damn he hadn’t thought this through. “Before I went to sleep I was asking Phlox about Porthos. Complained to him about what T'Pol said to me, and how I couldn’t believe she thought that. He caught on. Tried asking why I cared about her opinion, why not yours.” Archer tilts his head and smiles shyly at Trip. “I guess he’s starting to catch on.”
“Damn. Really thought we had longer.” Trip shakes his head. “The doc’s a damn bloodhound.”
“For gossip?” Archer smiles again. “Yeah, he is.”
Trip holds himself up on one arm, somehow no longer shaky. He uses the other to push Archer gently. “Well?”
“What?”
“Go on!”
“Well, clearly he got my mind stuck on the question. So we’re at the funeral, and Phlox is speaking.” Archer narrows his eyes. What exactly had he said? “Something about how people who like each other do stupid things. As he’s talking T'Pol took my hand, and then we just,” he laughs. It really does sound ridiculous. “We just stared at each other.”
“You stared?” Trip asks, sounding mighty underwhelmed. “Damn captain, if I had known all it took to get you this riled up was some same holding I would’ve done that ages ago.”
“Trip.” He groans.
Trip holds up his hands. “No, for real. If you just wanted to be a little handsy, well I’m happy to oblige.” He scoops up Archer’s hand and squeezes it tightly. “Was it like this? I know I’m no match for that vulcan strength of hers but-”
“Trip!” A desperate pathetic plea for asylum. Trip oh so graciously gives it. Though that smirk on his face promises that it’s only for now.
Trip leans down and rests his cheek in his hand. A wave pushes Archer to continue.
“The dream changed after that. It jumped.”
“As dreams tend to do.”
“Right, like they do.” Archer ignores the way Trip rolls his eyes and playfully shakes his head. “Then we were decontaminating, like we did after the trip. Phlox called Hoshi and Porthos out.” Archer slowly breathes deep. His breath is a little shaky. “We kept rubbing our hands all over each other and then, Phlox asked that damn question again.”
“Wow, your dreams are really PG-13.”
“Trip!”
“What?” The chief engineer starts to laugh like a guilty man.
Archer shakes his head before letting it fall back onto his hand. “That’s the last time I tell you about any of my dreams.”
“Now hang on!”
“Nope.” Archer closes his eyes. Even now he could see her face so clearly. The way her lips were so close in the dream. “I’m done.”
“Even if it’s a really wild dream? Like one where you’re left dangling out in space, with a klingon spinning you around by the ankle.”
Bewildered, Archer opens his eyes. Slowly he cranes his head back in Trip’s direction. “What kind of dreams are you having?”
“Nightmares mostly.”
Archer just stares at Trip. What is he even supposed to say to that? Clearly? Order him down to talk it out with the doc? Sit here and try psycho-analyzing him, himself?
Before Archer can decide on a course of action, Trip presses on, “So whatcha gonna do about it?”
“I kept slipping up when talking to T'Pol so she might have an idea now.” Ugh he really had said breast. Of all the slip-ups he said breast! Nevermind talking to her. He should just crawl under a random rock on a comet and hide there till he dies.
“Now hold your horses! You did what?”
“It was just a couple slips of the tongue.”
“A couple!”
“Trip focus.” Trip lays back down on his belly. His legs were bouncing a little now. “I talked to Phlox about it. He said it was a bad idea to talk to T'Pol. That he couldn’t imagine a way of it going well.”
“Well, shit.”
“Yeah.”
“So what are you gonna do?”
That is the question.
“I think I’m gonna mention it to her. Not outright or anything, but put some feelers out.” He looks back to Trip. “If you’re good with that.”
Trip nods along, and Archer does his best not to picture Porthos in his place doing the same thing for a treat. “I think puttin’ some feelers out is a good idea. At least then we know.”
“I thought you might want to be the one to, you know.” He hopes his voice isn’t as unsteady as he feels.
“I know,” he admits with a laugh, “annnnd no, thank you!”
“Why not?”
“Because she can shoot my head off.” Trip looks up with a bit of uncertainty. “Nevermind shooting, she could pull it off.” He mockingly models her ripping his head off with his hands. Once he’s done Trip rests his hands back on the bed. “She’s much less likely to do that to you. Ya know with you bein’ the captain and all.” He points at Archer as he speaks.
Archer’s eyes roll as if he were trying to reach an unseen sky. “Gee, thanks.”
“Think of it this way. If you ask and she says no, then you still got me!” Trip presses both hands against his chest. “But if I ask and she kills me then you’ve got no one.”
“And I’d have to go back home to find a lesser engineer to replace you.”
“You could never replace me.” Trip says lovingly.
Archer rolls back onto his side, and wraps his arms around Trip. He pulls the other man across the bed, pressing his chest against Trip’s back. The captain buries his nose along the back of Trip’s neck.
“You’re right.” Archer agrees. Trip hums happily.
That same tingling feeling that had been in his hands earlier spreads through his nose. Archer focuses on that sensation. It’s so much better than the doubt trying to plague his mind about tomorrow.