Sweet Dreams

This little short is a result of my idle musings if I‘d be able to write a m/m story. So I figured I‘d try it, just for fun. This is the result.

This story involves men with men, and if that offends you, don‘t read on. Stop now, before you hurt yourself. It‘s only rated R; sorry folks.

All pleasant feedback welcome; all flames will be gleefully deleted, so don‘t waste your time or mine.

by Margaret Berger MaisieRita@aol.com

Disclaimer: Star Trek, Voyager, and all characters contained herein belong to PARAMOUNT. We bow down and prostrate ourselves.


Kathryn sipped delicately at her coffee. "How are you, Commander?"

"Hmmm?" Chakotay looked up, having been seemingly absorbed in the meal on his plate. "Oh, I‘m fine." "Uh huh." Her smile was too knowing. "You‘ve been very distracted today."

"I suppose so. I‘m sorry." He heaved a sigh, and pushed his plate away.

"You still haven‘t told him, have you."


"Why not? You said you were going to talk to him last night."

"I know. It‘s just that—I‘m afraid he‘ll laugh at me."

"Give him a little credit."

"I do! But it‘s going to sound very strange to him; he‘ll think I‘m joking, and he‘ll laugh. As awful as it is now, it‘ll be worse if I tell him and he laughs at me. I don‘t think I could take it." "Well, if you ask me, you can‘t take this much longer, either. You‘re so tense, I‘m afraid you‘re going to have a nervous breakdown on the bridge. Tell him, already." "Is that an order, Captain?"

"Not yet, Commander." Janeway stood up, laughing. "I‘ll see you on the bridge tomorrow." She patted his shoulder sympathetically, and left.

A few feet away, the subject of the Commander and Captain‘s discussion was playing pool. "Come on, Harry, we don‘t have all night. We‘ve got the first duty shift tomorrow, remember?" "You‘re just trying to rush me so I‘ll mess up my shot."

"Harry, Harry, Harry." Tom shook his head. "You wound me. I‘m not that devious."

Harry straightened up, gave Tom an incredulous glance, and bent down over the table again."What‘s going on, you have a hot date or something?"

"No. I‘ve had all the possible hot dates on the ship, and let me tell you, Harry, they weren‘t so hot." Tom sighed theatrically. "Oh where, oh where, is that special someone to sweep me off my feet?"

Harry smirked. "Not getting any lately?" He made a perfect shot, and moved around the table to line up his next one. Tom was miffed. "You really think I‘m that shallow? It‘s not always about sex, Harry."

"It usually seems to be, for you." Harry squinted at the table and shook his head sadly. Not from that angle. He moved a few feet and bent down again.

"You‘re killing me. Will you just aim and shoot, please? I‘d like to finish this game sometime before we reach the Alpha Quadrant." Harry ignored Tom‘s whining complaint. Tom went back to the prior topic of conversation. "I don‘t think I like what you‘re suggesting about my relationships, Harry. You think I only get involved with people to get sex?" "Yes."

"Well, gosh, don‘t try to spare my feelings or anything."

Harry stood up. "Are you insulted?"


"Don‘t be. Look, Paris, it‘s the impression you give off. Don‘t blame me that people interpret your sex life exactly the way you want them to." He settled back down to the game, and sank three balls in quick succession. "There you go. Game‘s over." He handed Tom the cue with a smile.

"Harry, did you just beat me?"

"You must be losing your touch." Harry started for the door, but stopped when he realized Tom wasn‘t following. "You coming, Paris?"

"No. I‘ve got to practice." He racked up the pool balls, mumbling, "The day Harry Kim beats me in a game of pool..." "All right, then. See you tomorrow." Harry waved at Chakotay, then left the bar.

Chakotay watched him leave, with a hammering heart. This was it. There was no one else in the bar. It was just him and Paris. Tom. Gods, could he really do this? He‘d need a few minutes just to work up the nerve.

He watched Paris sink a few balls, and realized with a smile that the pilot had let Harry win. Sure, the kid was getting better, but Paris could shoot circles around him. Setting him up. Probably some long elaborate scheme that was going to end up with numerous replicator rations transferred out of poor Harry‘s account and into Tom‘s.

Chakotay downed the last of his drink, wishing wistfully that it was a real beer, and steeled his courage. O.k., Big Man, it‘s now or never. His stomach was nervously trying to steer him towards the ‚never‘ option, but other parts of his anatomy preferred the ‚now‘. He rose to his feet, and approached the pool table. "Commander!" Tom looked up with a start. "I didn‘t realize you were still here."

"Sorry. I didn‘t mean to startle you. I was just watching you play."

Tom gave him a sidelong glance. "Oh yeah?"

"Uh huh. Are you trying to con Harry out of some rations?" Tom wore his most innocent expression. "I‘d never try to con Harry out of anything, Commander. He‘s my best friend." "That‘s right. I‘d forgotten." Chakotay looked nervously around.

"You want to shoot a round or two?"

Tom was surprised. "Uhhh, sure. O.k." He seemed flustered.

"Let me just rack the balls up, Commander."

"We‘re off duty now, Tom. You can call me Chakotay." Chakotay rolled a few balls in Tom‘s direction, hoping Tom wouldn‘t notice how much his hands were shaking. Gods, he was acting like a teenager. This was absolutely ridiciculous. Tom broke, and quickly sank a few balls. They alternated turns for a few minutes, while Chakotay desperately tried to work up the nerve to say what he had to. Finally, while Tom was trying to line up a particularly tricky shot, Chakotay said, "You know, I couldn‘t help overhearing some of your conversation with Harry." Tom grunted in response. Chakotay strengthened his voice and continued, "I heard you say you‘re waiting for someone to sweep you off your feet. I suppose none of the women on the ship fit the bill?"

Tom straightened up, and looked at Chakotay with a quizzical expression. "No, I guess they don‘t." A familiar impish look fleeted across his face, and he asked, with a mischevious grin, "Why, are you interested?"


"What?" Tom‘s pool cue clattered noisily to the ground. "I‘m sorry, but—what did you just say?"

"I said," Chakotay responded, distinctly, "that I‘m interested." "You ... you ... " Tom took a deep breath and stared, bug-eyed, at Chakotay. "You‘re—what?"

"Interested. In you." Chakotay started to relax. Now that he‘d said it, he could see the humor in the situation. Tom looked like he was about to faint. "Have you always had this hearing problem, or is it a recent development?" "Hearing prob—" Tom shook his head. "I don‘t have a ... it‘s just that, you didn‘t really mean that you ... that you ..." "Yes, I did mean. I‘m interested in you, Tom. Hell, I can‘t stop thinking about you. Seeing you at the conn every day, staring at your shoulders, sitting across from you at briefings. I want you so badly it‘s driving me crazy." "You want... " Suddenly, Tom started looking around the room furiously. "Where is she? B‘Elanna put you up to this, right? She‘s hiding somewhere, watching this, and laughing, right?"

He raised his voice. "I know you‘re there, Torres!"

"No one‘s here but us, Tom."

"Well then she‘s got a video feed hidden somewhere. I hope you‘re enjoying this, B‘Elanna!" He started roaming the room, looking for hidden lenses.

Chakotay watched Tom for a few seconds, and started to laugh. "Why in the galaxy would B‘Elanna set you up like this? And what makes you think she could make me agree to do it?" Tom abruptly halted his search. "I don‘t know, but something must be up, because you sure as hell can‘t be serious." "Why not?"

"Well, for one thing, you‘re interested in women," Tom said, sounding eminently reasonable.

"I don‘t discriminate on the basis of gender," Chakotay responded with a smile.

"Oh." Tom was nonplussed for a minute. "For another thing, you hate me, remember?"

"Are you so sure about that?"

"You‘ve never given me any reason to think otherwise." Tom‘s voice was so vulnerable, so open, that Chakotay didn‘t even stop to think about what he was doing. He grabbed Tom by the shoulders, pulled his head down, and kissed him. It only lasted for an instant, but Chakotay was sure he felt the deck rock beneath his feet. He broke it off when he felt Tom‘s hand‘s on his arms, pushing him gently away.

"What the hell are you doing?" Tom said, with less violence in his voice than Chakotay would have expected. "I‘m sorry. I had to do that. Even if nothing ever happens between us, if this doesn‘t go any farther, I just had to know, finally, what it would be like."

Tom had moved back a few feet, putting a safe cushion between them. "So?"


"So what was it like?" Tom had an odd expression on his face. Chakotay thought, but he couldn‘t be certain, that Tom was teasing him. If so, it was a better reaction than he‘d been expecting.

"It was fine."


"It was good."

"Good? That‘s it? I‘m insulted. I‘ll have you know I have a reputation as an excellent kisser." Tom was at ease again, it seemed, and Chakotay wasn‘t sure what game he was playing now.

"Sorry. You weren‘t exactly participating."

"I wasn‘t expecting to be kissed. You caught me off guard."

"I caught me off guard."

"I‘d hate to think you‘re going to base your opinion of me as a kisser on that one kiss. The circumstances were hardly ideal." Tom was definitely teasing him now, Chakotay thought with a sigh. Tom‘s next words threw him completely for a loop. "Maybe we‘d better try it again." The expression on his face was so full of humor, Chakotay was sure that Tom was kidding but how could he possibly turn down an invitation like that? He crossed the distance between them with one swift step and pulled Tom‘s head down to meet his again.

Chakotay saw a brief flash of surprise in Tom‘s eyes before his own eyes closed, and all there was to concentrate on was the kiss. Tom‘s mouth was closed against his, until he slid his tongue along the slightly salty lips. Their tongues met, and mated, and Chakotay thought dreamily, "He wasn‘t kidding about being an excellent kisser." The kiss intensified, grew harder, more violent, more passionate. He finally called a stop to it when he felt a familiar hardness start to swell between his legs. He pushed away from Tom, panting, and stepped back. Tom stared at him, and absentmindedly wiped the back of his hands across his slightly bruised lips. "You were serious," he whispered. Chakotay nodded silently. "I thought—I thought you were joking. I thought B‘Elanna..." He shook his head in disbelief. "I meant it to be a dare, Chakotay. I never thought you‘d take me up on it."

"You guessed wrong."

"Apparently so." Tom‘s eyes roamed down Chakotay‘s body, almost of their own accord, and rested briefly on the just barely noticeable bulge in Chakotay‘s pants. "I‘m sorry," he whispered. "I didn‘t mean to lead you on." He looked around the room, suddenly acutely uncomfortable. "I—I have to go, Commander. I‘ve got first shift tomorrow."

"Me too."

"All right, then. See you in the morning." Tom walked rapidly to the door, and opened it. Faint night sounds from the holographic streets floated into the room. Tom paused with his hand on the door, and turned. He had an honest smile on his face. "Good night, Chakotay. Sweet dreams." The door shut behind him.

Chakotay shook his head. "I will be damned." Sweet dreams, indeed.


Sequel? Maybe if enough people ask me nicely enough.