Spirit of the Earth, Spirit of the Sky

Chakotay stood there awkwardly, his arms wrapped around Tom's stiff shoulders, feeling the rapid flutter of Tom's heart pounding against his own chest. Tiny, almost imperceptible, tremors were rippling through the younger man's body and his breath was coming in short, ragged gasps. He could feel his own blood surging through his veins, warmed by the heat generated between their bodies, flowing steadily down to his awakening groin. He breathed deeply, drinking in Tom's scent, savoring the musky aroma of his perspiration and the clean, sweet smell of his hair. 

Tom's eyes were closed, his long lashes quivering against his pink-stained cheekbones, his lips trembling with each minute shiver that racked his body. Chakotay swallowed heavily, fighting his body's impulse to savage the soft mouth. 

He groaned with indecision. It was painfully evident that Tom was terrified. The problem was that Chakotay was uncertain what he was scared of. His gut told him that Tom was simply terrified he'd change his mind and let go rather than move the embrace towards the bedroom. The problem was that his gut was a little too close to his cock for him to be sure he was being objective. He decided that the whole problem had started because he'd always misinterpreted Tom, so maybe it was time he started to listen instead.

"Tom?" he whispered. "May I kiss you?"

Tom groaned deep in his throat and tipped his head back, exposing his throat, his eyes still closed, and he opened his mouth slightly, softening his lips.

There was no mistaking the gesture of complete submission, so Chakotay took advantage of the invitation and the way the position of Tom's head compensated for the difference in their heights. He swooped his own mouth down on Tom's and kissed him. Gently at first, until Tom gave a tiny gasp and opened his lips wider, then Chakotay carefully pressed his tongue inside to taste Tom's sweetness. 

He was momentarily confused by Tom's failure to press back into the kiss. From all he had heard, Tom had a reputation for being an experienced and often dominating lover, yet the mouth under his own was soft, pliant and completely submissive, opening to welcome his own exploration in a totally passive way. As  passive as the body in his arms. Tom felt heavy, sagging against him as though too weak to stand by himself, and still the tiny tremors were shuddering through him. 

Chakotay had the disturbing image of a wounded, wild animal. One that was too damaged to run or fight, yet too terrified to believe the hands stroking it were not intending harm. And the most disturbing aspect of that vision was that it was all too true. He'd singed Tom so badly with all his previous rejections that it was no surprise that the younger man was too frightened to be anything but passive in his arms. He realized then that Tom would probably allow him to do *anything* to him, and with that realization came a burden of responsibility that almost crippled him with it's weight.

For a moment he wavered, wondering whether the kindest thing of all would be to leave Tom now. Yet, even as he had the thought, he knew it was too late. He couldn't stop now without destroying what little hope remained inside Tom's heart. And, although he was a little ashamed of himself, a surge of possessive joy rushed through him as that knowledge abstained him from any perceived guilt in taking advantage of Tom's surprising vulnerability.

He pulled back from the kiss, thrilled at Tom's tiny moan of distress.

"Bedroom," he murmured.

Tom whimpered and nuzzled into his neck, his eyes still tightly closed as though he was too terrified this was only a dream to risk opening them.

Chakotay looked uncertainly at the debris strewn floor, realized it would be too hazardous to pull Tom blindly towards the bedroom and, understanding Tom's need to hide behind his closed eyelids, he physically swept the pilot up in his arms. Tom folded against him, his arms clutched Chakotay's shoulders, he tucked his face into Chakotay's neck and licked tentatively against the muscular cords that strained under his weight.

A wave of tenderness flooded through the older man, at Tom's trust and compliance. He ignored the ache in his shoulders as he carried his precious burden to the too-small bed and carefully laid him down. Then he sat, at the edge of the mattress, his index finger sadly tracing the tears that were trickling down Tom's face. He leant down and kissed the trembling lips again, delving deeply, drowning in Tom's tiny gasps of pleasure as he plundered the pliant sweetness of Tom's mouth.

Without breaking the kiss, he began to unfasten his uniform, sliding his arms out of his jacket, snapping the fastenings at his waistband, only pulling back from Tom's lips when he needed to tug his under-shirt over his head. Then he reached for Tom's right hand, caressed the fingers gently, then pressed them against his bare chest.

"Touch me, Tom," he whispered.

He bit his own lower lip as Tom's fingers traced tentatively over his skin, then paused and played hungrily over his nipples. He gasped as the touches became bolder, tracing his areola, teasing his nubs to hardness and, at the sound of his voice, Tom's eyes opened warily and stared, in apparent disbelief, at the sight of the bronzed flesh suspended over his chest.

A nervous smile danced over Tom's face, his pupils dilated and he wet his lips with his tongue as he stared in wonder.

"Oh, God," he whispered. "you're so beautiful."

Chakotay smiled, leant down, and licked at Tom's jaw.

"Funny," he murmured. "I was just thinking the same about you."

Tom laughed, a light trilling sound of pure delight, and then he moved so unexpectedly that Chakotay was too stunned to resist as he was flipped over onto his back, with a suddenly aggressive Tom straddling his hips. He watched in disbelief as Tom ripped his own jacket and shirt off, exposing a finely sculpted chest. He reached up and stroked the fine red-gold down, the rosy nipples and the smattering of tiny darker blemishes and laughed in delight himself.

Tom reared back, his eyes suddenly wary, his passion replaced by fear.

"What?" he demanded fearfully. "What's funny?"

"Nothing," Chakotay soothed, sitting up enough to plant a series of tiny kisses over Tom's pecs. "You've got freckles. I love freckles."

Tom gave a high-pitched laugh of relief and threaded his fingers through Chakotay's hair as the older man proceeded to worship each tiny mark with wet kisses. Then, when Chakotay began to flick his tongue hungrily over his nipples, Tom arched his back and gave a strangled wail of excitement. Sucking one of the nubs into his mouth, biting down lightly on the sensitive flesh, Chakotay let his hands creep around to caress and then squeeze Tom's buttocks, delighting in the way Tom started to squirm and shuffle with obvious arousal.

He gave Tom's nipple a last gentle bite, then licked a slow trail up his chest, around his neck and then nipped gently at an earlobe. Tom squealed, his fingers tightening almost painfully in Chakotay's hair. 

"I want to make love to you, Tom," Chakotay purred, flicking his tongue into Tom's ear.

"Please," Tom moaned. 

"We're wearing too many clothes," Chakotay pointed out gently, easing Tom off his hips, kicking off his boots and starting to ease his trousers down over his almost painfully hard erection.

It was only when he was completely naked that he realized Tom hadn't moved. The younger man was just staring at him, with wide disbelieving eyes, swallowing convulsively.

"Tom?" he asked worriedly.

Instead of answering, Tom slipped off the mattress and collapsed gracefully to his knees so that his face was level with Chakotay's groin. He stared at Chakotay's cock, nervously flicking his tongue over his lips then, in a barely audible whisper, he said "May I?"

May I? Chakotay's brain screamed in disbelief. Tom Paris was on his knees, looking at his cock like it was breakfast, and he thought Chakotay would refuse? 

"Anything you want, Tom," Chakotay finally mumbled.

He braced himself, as Tom leant forward and licked delicately at the dew-drops of pre-cum that were pearling on his cock-head. He hissed, shuddering with reaction, as Tom's tongue flicked with cat-like delicacy at his foreskin, swirled hungrily around his slit like a honey-bee delving for nectar and then Tom opened his mouth wide and slipped his lips over Chakotay's cock.

"Oh, Spirits, that's so good," he gasped encouragingly, as he slipped inside the moist, velvet heat of Tom's mouth.

Tom purred happily, humming deep in his throat so that waves of sensation tickled and teased the sensitive flesh. Chakotay clenched his jaw, desperately trying to control the urge to plunge deeper, refusing his instinctive urge to buck his hips against Tom's clever mouth. Tom ran his hands worshipfully over Chakotay's trembling flanks and then he relaxed his throat completely to allow Chakotay's entire shaft inside.

"Shit," Chakotay cried, as Tom deep-throated him. It belatedly occurred to him that it hadn't been the most romantic exclamation but before he could gasp something more appropriate, Tom began bobbing his head against his groin, fucking himself on Chakotay's cock, and only Tom's hands bracing themselves against his buttocks kept Chakotay from collapsing as his whole body thrummed with the most delicious sensation of heat and friction.

He felt his balls tighten and struggled desperately against the fire in his groin. It was too soon, too fast, too intense. He couldn't bear to pull back from the pleasure, yet wanted to scream at its inevitable shortness as Tom's mouth dragged him towards orgasm with such skill that he was helpless to fight against it.

"I…I can't…" he gasped in warning. Then it was too late. His passion erupted inside Tom's throat, his orgasm emptying itself in spurts so violent that he screamed in pain even as he shuddered in pleasure. He lost his balance, falling back against the mattress, wincing as his cock scraped against Tom's teeth with the violence of its withdrawal. He tumbled onto the bed, so stunned that bright lights flashed in his eyes as his brain struggled for equilibrium, and he was only peripherally aware that Tom paused to strip his own boots and trousers off before scrambling onto the bed after him, throwing himself over Chakotay's heaving chest like a comforter.

It took Chakotay several minutes to recover from the intensity of his orgasm, minutes in which he was aware of nothing except the pounding of his heart in his chest, Tom's tiny, butterfly kisses against his neck, and the way Tom was trembling in his arms.

"Are you okay?" he whispered finally, when Tom finally seemed to relax in his embrace.

"Thank you," Tom mumbled back sleepily.

Chakotay blinked uncertainly. Shouldn't that have been his line?

Tom was sprawled bonelessly on top of him, his breathing so slow and steady now that it was obvious he was almost asleep. Chakotay cautiously moved his right hand down towards Tom's cock and found it as sleepy and disinterested as its owner. His momentary panic at that realization was soothed when he felt a slight trace of stickiness on Tom's abdomen and realized that while he'd been lost in his own orgasm, Tom had obviously come too.

It humbled him completely, the thought that Tom could come from the simple act of blowing him. The responsibility almost frightened him as he understood the significance of this new proof of the depths of Tom's obsession with him. Yet, lying there, with Tom in his arms, with his whole body rocked and shattered by the mere touch of the beautiful young man, he knew he'd never take advantage of the power Tom had given him. 

"Tom?"

"hmmnnn…" Tom mumbled.

"Thank you. That was beautiful. You're beautiful."

He saw Tom's lips curve into a sleepy smile.

"It's enough," Tom whispered.

"What?"

Eyes closed, breathing shallow as though he was too weary to even know what he was saying, Tom finally mumbled, "Even if you never want me again, I've had this…it's enough. It's more…more than I dreamed…" Then, with a tiny snuffle, he fell asleep.

Chakotay winced in pain and tightened his grip around Tom's sleeping body.

"I love you, Tom Paris," he whispered. "More than you can even imagine and this is *not* enough. It will never be *enough*."

~~~

When he woke, he was alone in bed. His first disappointed thought was that Tom had snuck back to his own quarters, then he gradually realized that these *were* Tom's quarters. He could hear movement in the next room and contemplated rising, then hesitated. He was uncertain whether to dress or not. Walking into Tom's living room naked seemed inappropriate, and if there was still glass on the floor highly dangerous, yet he couldn't just put on his boots and putting his uniform on could be seen as an intention to leave by the over sensitive pilot.

In the end he just called out Tom's name.

Moments later Tom bounced into the room with the eagerness of a puppy, a mug of coffee in his hands. His eyes were wary and his smile was nervous, but he rushed over to the bed, placed the coffee on the bedside table, sat down on the edge of the mattress and leant over to press a hungry kiss against Chakotay's mouth.

When Chakotay responded, Tom groaned as though a huge weight of tension had been lifted by Chakotay's enthusiasm and he pulled back to stare at the older man, his nervous smile now replaced by a wide grin.

"I didn't know if you'd be hungry. We slept through lunch and its almost dinner time and I was going to replicate something but then I realized I didn't really know what you liked and then I thought you might prefer to go to the mess or maybe want to go home instead or…."

"Whoa," Chakotay chuckled, interrupting the nervous chatter before Tom asphyxiated.

Tom blushed and stared at the carpet, nervously twisting his hands.

"I'm definitely hungry, and I'd love to eat dinner with you," Chakotay announced.

"You would?" Tom asked, his eyes sparkling with happiness. "Great, I'm almost tidied up now. Drink your coffee while I finish up and then I'll sort out something to eat. I've got plenty of credits so feel free to have a shower or a bath and I can replicate you something more comfortable to wear, or there's a spare robe in the bathroom and I can…"

"Tom, stop worrying. I'm fine. I'm not going anywhere."

Tom gave him a sheepish smile and rose to his feet.

"I'll um…go then…"

"Tom?"

"Yeah?"

"Can I have another kiss first?"

Tom's eyes flared in surprise, then with a wide grin he turned and pounced on the older man, kissing him so enthusiastically that he almost dragged the air out of his lungs. When he finally let go, Chakotay was gasping for breath and his cock was so stiff that it was making a tent out of the sheets. Tom noticed the lump and licked his lips unconsciously.

Chakotay groaned and smacked Tom on the ass gently.

"You promised me food," he reminded the younger man, before he gave in to the urge to let Tom dive under the bedclothes.

Tom blushed and grinned.

"Sure thing. Gotta keep your energy up, old man."

Chakotay gave a mock growl and pretended to grab for him. Tom laughed and scooted out of the room.

"Tom?" Chakotay called as he rose and padded towards the bathroom.

Tom poked his head back through the door and swallowed heavily at the sight of Chakotay's naked and obviously aroused body.

"Yeah?" he croaked.

"Fashion hint from an old man. Boots and an extra large t-shirt are *not* a sexy combination."

Tom looked down at himself and blushed.

"Glass on the floor," he explained sheepishly.

Chakotay just chuckled and closed the bathroom door behind him.

~#~#~

"The stew's not bad, Tom," Harry said. "If you avoid the purple bits, the rest's pretty good."

Tom just shrugged and chewed on his pasta.

"Seriously, Tom. You can't live on pasta and vegetables. Particularly since you don't *like* vegetables."

"I know," Tom agreed. "But I hate Leola more and Neelix grated it all over the vegetarian lasagna today."

"So have the stew."

"I can't. I was working in Sickbay earlier and I read this report that said meat changes the way you taste. Vegetarians are supposed to be really sensitive about that kind of thing."

Harry laughed. "I really don't want to go *there*, Tom, but it seems to me that you and Chakotay have been dating for what? Five weeks? If he had a problem with the way you *taste* he'd have told you by now."

Tom sighed.

"I know, Haz, but I don't want to take the risk. I mean it's all going so good at the minute and I…well, I don't want to give him any reason…you know?"

"To finish with you?"

"Yeah," Tom admitted, blushing furiously.

"I think you're worrying about nothing, Tom. You don't need to change for him. In fact, I don't like the way you *are* changing. You never speak up on the bridge anymore. I miss that. Hell, I think even the Captain misses that. Then there's all these extra shifts you keep volunteering for. Any evening Chakotay is on duty, you spend it in Sickbay instead of with your friends. You never go to Sandrine's anymore unless he's with you and then you rarely play pool with me."

"I'm sorry, Haz."

"Look, don't get me wrong. I'm not complaining. Sure, I miss your company but that's not the point. You're my friend, Tom. As long as you're happy, I'm happy. Only I don't know whether you are and it seems to me that if Chakotay fell in love with *you*, it's counter-productive to try and become someone else, don't you think?"

Tom just nodded miserably. He couldn't explain, couldn't possibly say anything that wouldn't make him look pathetic in Harry's eyes. How could he possibly admit that Chakotay *didn't* love him? That all their relationship consisted of was incredible sex, Chakotay being kind and Tom mooning over him like a love-sick puppy, constantly terrified of doing something *wrong* that would shatter the fantasy.

Since the first day, when Chakotay had been too nice to comment about the fact that Tom had creamed his pants like an adolescent simply because he'd finally been allowed to worship Chakotay's body, Tom had felt himself slipping further and further out of control of his own emotions.

He'd heard an expression once, 'be careful what you wish for in case you get it', but he'd never understood its terrible significance until he'd made the deal with Chakotay. Wanting the unobtainable, loving from afar, had been like suffering a painful, incurable disease. It had drained his spirit and shattered his confidence, yet it had been a *controllable* disease, not a fatal one. But having Chakotay, being allowed to touch him and taste him and worship him, was like having an addiction. It made him feel wild and out of control, made him so desperate for the next fix that he'd do anything for it, *anything*. 

It had started that first day, when Chakotay had made the joke. And Tom *knew* it was a joke. He wasn't so far gone that he couldn't recognize humor. He knew Chakotay hadn't meant anything when he'd laughed about the boots and the tee-shirt. Even so, by the time Chakotay had gotten out of the shower, the living room had been spotless and Tom had been dressed in his sexiest jeans and his tightest tee. In the five weeks since then Tom had never allowed himself to be seen in anything except a spotless uniform, a carefully chosen casual outfit or bare skin. 

Then there had been the evening, a couple of weeks into their 'deal' when Chakotay had mentioned in a senior staff meeting that the problems with under-manned posts could be resolved if people were less selfish about how they spent their time off. Tom had known Chakotay was referring to him, even if he *had* been glaring at Ensign Baytart at the time. So he had volunteered for more Sickbay duty and although Chakotay had taken him aside and asked whether he was *sure* it wouldn't make him too tired, Tom knew Chakotay was secretly pleased with him.

Of course, he *had* then been over-tired on a few occasions, so tired that he'd collapsed into an exhausted sleep as soon as Chakotay had reached orgasm, and Chakotay had been worried about the fact that he hadn't come himself. But that was because Chakotay didn't understand that it was enough for him to bring pleasure to the older man and that, to be honest, he was often so overwhelmed by the fact he was in Chakotay's bed at all that he couldn't have had an erection if he tried. It seemed crazy, somehow, that he could be so in love with someone that he either shot his load as soon as he touched him or couldn't get it up at all. He just lost himself in the older man, content just to touch or be touched, drinking in every moment of their contact and preserving it indelibly in his memory for later, when it was all over.

How could he explain that? How could he say to Chakotay that he didn't want to orgasm, didn't want even that tiny loss of consciousness to steal a precious second of their time together. 

He wasn't sleeping much. These days, since he'd virtually moved into Chakotay's quarters, he'd wake in the middle of the night, creep to the bathroom to shower and shave and brush his teeth, then he'd spend the hours until dawn simply etching Chakotay's sleeping face into his memory. He'd mentally trace every line of the bronzed, sweat-sheened body, sometimes cautiously stroking the skin with his finger tips as though by touch he could make those memories permanent.

~#~#~

"I'm worried about him," Chakotay admitted.

"You should be, " B'Elanna snapped. "He looks like shit."

"Don't hold back, B'Elanna. Tell me what you really think."

B'Elanna snorted and grinned.

"Seriously though, Chakotay. He really does look tired these days and it's not that happy 'I was fucked through the mattress last night hence I got no sleep' kind of tired. He looks…well, 'haunted' somehow."

"I know. I've tried talking to him about it, but it's a waste of time. He just gives me this huge Mr. Happy smile and pretends nothing's wrong."

"Did you know he'd stopped eating meat?"

"No. When?"

"A couple of weeks ago. Harry told me. He's worried about Tom too. He says Tom hasn't thought it through and changed to a vegetarian diet, all he's done is stopped eating meat so he's not eating properly. It's no wonder he's got no energy."

"I'll talk to him about it," Chakotay promised.

"I think you should, because Harry said he's doing it for you."

"For me?"

"Apparently he's scared you'll use the fact he's not a vegetarian to finish with him. Why the hell would he think that, Chakotay? Why's he so damned scared?"

"He…he doesn't think I love him," Chakotay confessed. 

"Why the hell not?"

"Because I told him I didn't."

"You bastard. What do you think you're doing? He adores you and you're just playing games with him?"

"It's not like that. I…I told him at the beginning that I didn't think I loved him but I wanted to."

"But you told *me* you loved him," B'Elanna reminded him.

"I don't mean love, I mean love."

"I don't understand."

"I love lots of things, B'Elanna. I love tea. I love flying. I love this crew. When I told you I loved him, I meant I really cared about him, but when I was faced with *his* love I couldn't pretend the feelings I had were anything in comparison. I didn't want to mislead him, so I was honest and admitted my feelings weren't as strong as his."

"I see," B'Elanna said coldly. "And the poor bastard was so desperate that he agreed to have you on those terms?"

Chakotay nodded.

"But, as soon as he agreed, I realized I *did* love him. Only it was too late to say it."

"Without it sounding trite?"

"Yeah," Chakotay agreed. "So I decided the only thing I could do was show him how I feel about him."

"Doesn't seem to me that you're having much success," B'Elanna said bluntly. 

"Obviously not," Chakotay agreed bitterly. "It's not…" he blushed, "it's not even working sexually between us any more. He…he doesn't want me."

"He doesn't want to sleep with you?" she asked in disbelief.

Chakotay shook his head.

"It's hard to explain. He can't keep his hands off me. He…he practically *worships* my body and he loves me to touch him."

"So what's the problem? Kahless, Chakotay. I can't help you if you don't explain."

"He doesn't get physically aroused."

"You're telling me Tom Paris is impotent?"

Chakotay rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands.

"I…I put it down to tiredness at first. I mean he's been working such long hours and he's so loving towards me that there was no reason to think it was anything except a temporary thing. It happens to everyone sometimes. So I tried not to worry. But…well, it's gotten worse. It's like he's so wrapped up in my pleasure, my satisfaction, that his own is just an afterthought."

"Have you spoken to the Doctor about this?"

"No. I can't betray Tom's confidence in that way. The Doctor would insist on doing some physical tests and I'm pretty certain the problem's  psychological."

"Of course it's psychological, you dumbass. He loves you. He thinks *you* don't love him and he's desperately trying to do anything he can to keep you. If it wasn't so damn sad it would be laughable and if it wouldn't hurt Tom to see you with a broken nose, I'd punch you in the face for being so fucking insensitive as to have let it go on for so long."

"I do love him, B'Elanna. I spend every available moment with him. I touch him, I hold him, I praise him, I tell him constantly that he's the most important person in my life. He's *everything* to me, B'Elanna. He *knows* that. He even believes that. The problem is he can't let go of the idea that it's a temporary situation."

"Have you *told* him you love him?"

"Lots of times. But it seems to go right over his head, like it's some meaningless endearment. He doesn't believe me or if he does, he doesn't believe my feelings will last."

"Will they?" B'Elanna asked.

"I will love Tom until the day I die and beyond, B'Elanna. You can't even imagine what he means to me, how every smile on his face lights my whole day up, how every pain he feels twists my guts into knots."

"And you're sure that won't change? I mean you've only been seeing him for seven weeks and you've admitted yourself that you're having problems."

"The problems are all my fault, not his, and it doesn't matter whether we've been together seven weeks or seven years, I *love* him. I always will."

"So marry him."

"What?"

"What are you waiting for? You say you'll love him forever, so I *assume* that means you want to marry him."

"It's too soon."

"For what? You said yourself that time isn't the issue and, besides, Tom's problem is that he's sure you aren't serious. How better to show him how damned serious you are?"

"You don't understand. It's not too soon for *me*, it's too soon for Tom. While I agree he knows me well enough to understand that marriage is a permanent commitment, it wouldn't prove that I love him. He'll just think I've decided our 'deal' is sufficiently satisfying that I want to prolong it. Maybe he'll agree to marry me for the wrong reasons, just to keep me, but he won't believe I truly love him."

B'Elanna frowned.

"I *think* I understand what you're saying but, still, at least you'd remove his fear."

"And replace it with what? A weary resignation that a loveless marriage is the best he can hope for?"

"So what the hell are you going to do? How can you prove you love him if he's so certain that you don't?"

"I don't know. I don't even know if it's possible for Tom to believe anyone really loves him. I've given it a lot of thought. From his childhood, Tom's never experienced real love so I don't think he knows what it is when it stares him in the face. I suspect he had the same hopeless longing for his father's affection and when he didn't receive it he convinced himself that it was his own fault, that he was somehow unlovable. I even suspect that a large portion of his initial obsession with me was a subconscious attempt to duplicate that situation."

"What do you mean?"

"He fell in love with me even though he was sure I'd never return his affection. Maybe, in a way, that was what he wanted. It's easier to deal with unrequited love than handle the real thing, isn't it? As long as he fantasized about me, he had an excuse to avoid all other relationships yet, all the time, he knew *we* would never happen. Then I threw him a curve-ball by offering a relationship."

"But he agreed."

"Of course he agreed. He'd been fantasizing about me for almost nine years. How the hell could he turn me down? But that doesn't mean he was prepared to handle the reality."

"Shit, Chakotay. You're in one hell of a mess. I'm beginning to wish I'd never helped to get you both together."

"Don't think that, B'Elanna. The day I let Tom into my life was the day my life really started. I hadn't realized how empty I was until Tom crept in and tried to fill me. I don't regret a moment of our time together. All I need to do is find a way to make Tom feel the same way."

~~~

"Roses? For me? You shouldn't have," Tom said, then snatched the flowers with a pout when Chakotay playfully started to withdraw them again.

"I convinced someone to give us their time on the holodec. Hope that's okay."

Tom leaned forward and kissed his cheek.

"Anything you do is okay by me," he murmured.

"But you get to choose the program," Chakotay added.

Tom turned away and busied himself with putting the flowers in a vase.

"I don't mind, Chakotay. Anything you like."

Chakotay frowned at Tom's averted back.

"I'd like *you* to choose, Tom. We never seem to do anything *you* want to do."

"I told you, Chak. I don't mind. I want you to be happy, that's enough."

Chakotay winced internally, the way he always did whenever 'that's enough' emerged from Tom's mouth. He forced his tone to be a little harsher when he replied, although the instant look of fear in Tom's eyes cut him to the quick.

"I want *you* to choose."

Tom trembled slightly, his eyes flicking nervously to Chak's face. Then he plastered a wide, almost convincing, smile on his face.

"We could do Dorvan, you always like that…" he suggested cautiously. Then he flinched at Chakotay's frown. "Or…or Chakotay7. The beach. That's a good one, isn't it? Sea, sand, a naked Tom?"

Chakotay swallowed heavily as that mental picture assailed him, but forced himself to glare at the younger man impatiently.

"What about *your* programs, Tom? When did you last play one of your own? When did you last do Captain Proton for instance?"

Tom shrugged nervously.

"Well, that was just kid's stuff, wasn't it? BC."

"BC?"

"Before Chakotay," Tom grinned. "I know you hated that program so I erased it."

Chakotay went very still.

"Erased it?" he asked quietly.

Tom shrugged.

"So you want to do the beach?"

"You erased it? When? At the same time you stopped eating properly?" Chakotay demanded.

"What?" Tom asked, teasing at his lower lip worriedly.

Chakotay slapped his comm. badge.

"B'Elanna?"

"Yes?"

"I've changed my mind about the holodec. You can have it after all."

He turned back to Tom and tried to ignore the confused, frightened tears welling in the blue eyes.

"Since you didn't seem interested in the holodec, it seemed a shame to waste it," he said mildly, and saw Tom begin to relax again as though a crisis had been averted.

"Go get changed into something more comfortable and I'll program dinner."

Tom grinned with relief and skipped into the bedroom. Chakotay let go of the breath he'd been holding and turned to the replicator. As he expected, Tom was gone several minutes and returned with perfectly pressed jeans, spotless tee and still-damp hair.

"I said comfortable," he murmured. "Those jeans are so tight I'm surprised you can sit in them at all."

Tom flushed.

"Don't you like them? I could change again."

"You look gorgeous Tom. Good enough to eat. But I was more interested in you being comfortable than sexy."

Tom darted him a look of unmistakable disbelief before mumbling, "Sorry."

"That's okay," Chakotay replied easily. "Sit down. Dinner's ready."

Tom carefully eased down into one of the dining chairs, his slight wince proving that the jeans were indeed to tight for comfort. Chakotay decided to drop the point and move on with the program. He collected two plates from the replicator; vegetable pakoras and a blue-cheese dip for himself and a large steak and fries for Tom.

Seeing Tom's eyes bug with disbelief as he stared down at the blood juices flowing over his plate, Chakotay murmured, "I thought you liked it blue. Did you want it cooked more?"

"No," Tom mumbled. "It's how I like it."

"Good," Chakotay replied, speared a pakora and began to munch contentedly.

"I don't understand," Tom blurted.

"Sorry?" Chakotay asked, his face a mask of innocence.

"I…I thought…um…never mind," Tom said, and cut into his steak with obvious hunger.

Chakotay just hid a smile.

Half-way through the meal, Tom groaned and put down his knife and fork.

"Jeans too tight?" Chakotay murmured sympathetically.

Tom glared at him, then nodded sheepishly.

"So take them off," Chakotay suggested.

Tom grinned, until Chakotay added "I'm sure I remember you having some sweatpants, not that I've seen them recently."

Tom stomped off into the bedroom and returned a few minutes later wearing flushed cheeks and an oversized pair of gray sweats.

"That's better," Chakotay said quietly, and continued to eat.

He pretended not to notice the numerous confused looks Tom was darting his way. After his conversation with B'Elanna he'd sat down and given his relationship with Tom some serious consideration. Belatedly it had occurred to him that Tom *never* really relaxed with him, never wore scruffs, never failed to be clean and freshly shaved. Every outfit he wore, no matter how casual, was obviously chosen with great care.

Although Chakotay appreciated the effort Tom made, he accepted that it wasn't natural. They were virtually living together now yet Tom never had a bad-hair day, never had morning breath or stubble, never had times he just vegged out and relaxed. Every morning, no matter what time he woke, he found Tom showered and shaved, ready to greet him with a smile and a fresh-breathed kiss. It was no wonder Tom looked so tired all the time if he was dragging himself out of bed in the middle of the night to clean up 'just in case'.

Then the holodec thing bothered him. He'd gone and found Harry to confirm his suspicions. Tom wasn't spending *any* time with his friends these days. He was either working or with Chakotay and, when they were together, they always did what Chakotay wanted to do.

It hadn't been immediately obvious because Tom always showed such huge enthusiasm for his suggestions and in his effort to woo Tom, he'd delighted in taking the younger man on an extended tour of his Dorvan program and his romantic beach program and all the other special places he hoped would give Tom an insight into his spirit and his heart.

Yet, looking back, he realized he'd just been buying into Tom's insecurities. Tom hadn't consistently agreed with his choice of recreation because he shared Chakotay's tastes but because he was too scared to risk any confrontation.

Seven weeks had passed and, if anything, they were more distant from each other now than they had been when they started and the only person Chakotay could blame was himself. 

"I love you, Tom," he said, reaching out and taking Tom's hand in his own.

A tiny shadow flickered in Tom's eyes, then he gave a pained smile.

"I love you too," he replied, his hand trembling in Chakotay's grasp as his whole body shivered with the truth of his words.

/I know,/ Chakotay thought to himself sadly. / I *know* you love me, Tom. I can't doubt it. I just don't know how the hell to convince you I feel the same way./

Go to Part Five