Star Trek Voyager- I Don't Believe It
by Bridget Cochran ©1998

C/P, J,  Tom and Chakotay are indiscreet on the holodeck. They think no one's watching. This is a response to a Mona challenge: What if somebody sees the boys do IT. This is Slash, boys doing boys. If you aren't interested in or are offended by that sort of thing, move along home. Rated NC- 17

I own the ideas, Paramount owns the rest. Archive anywhere, especially BLTs, R'Rain and AllSlash.


 She did it again. Tom had turned around to ask for a course correction and caught the Captain giving him that narrow eyed stare. What the hell had he done this time?

 "Something wrong, Captain?" It was very hard to keep the irritation out of his voice; she'd been doing that slow burn stare on and off for the last couple of days.

 "Nothing at all, Lieutenant, carry on." Same answer she'd given the last time. This time, though, she stood and strode toward her ready room. Tom twisted to try to catch Chakotay's eye. Chakotay was looking at Janeway's retreating back, but flicked at look in Tom's direction. The Commander's eyes moved back to the Captain immediately. Tom swiveled in the direction of the ready room to see Janeway, hands on hips, sporting a thoroughly disgusted look. Without another word, she tripped the door and disappeared.

 "What--?" The pilot turned to the first officer.

 "What's our heading, Tom," Chakotay cut him off. This wasn't the time for this conversation.

 "156, mark 35, sir," Tom turned back to the helm. The Captain knew. That had to be it. She knew, and she wasn't happy about it. God damn it, his life never stopped complicating itself.


 Chakotay eased back into his seat to watch the agitated Lieutenant punch commands for unnecessary diagnostics into the helm. His back was stiff, his color was high. Unless Chakotay was mistaken, Tom was going to be confronting Kathryn after shift. If there was one thing about Tom, it was that he never ignored a problem. Even one that would embarrass him like this one was going to embarrass him.

Rubbing a hand over his face, the Commander stifled a sigh. How the hell did she figure out they were on the holodeck? He'd made sure they were alone. That was the point: no one knowing.


 Janeway sat at her desk sipping coffee from her favorite cup. There was no reason for her to be hiding in her office, staring out the viewport. Except that she couldn't stand being on the bridge.

Not with Tom and Chakotay sitting there with her. She hadn't examined her anger at the two of them over the last week, she'd just wallowed in it. Now Tom had called her on it again. It was time to do a little soul searching.


 Unable to sleep after they had shot the vortex and left the void, the surging adrenaline wouldn't wear off. Kathryn changed into work out clothes and headed for the holodeck and a game of solo-velocity at 0130. After all the nothingness, it was so good to see stars and encounter other species and phenomena. Her brain was on overload, her nerves had that vibrant edginess that pulsed like an extra heart.

 That's odd, she thought, the computer says the holodeck is unoccupied, but the privacy lock is on? She keyed in her override and stepped inside. Sandrine's? When was the last time that old chestnut was active?

 Slowly, she pushed the bar door open, wondering if she should really be in there. This was spying, plain and simple, but she'd just pretend it was her scientific curiosity.

"Damn it, Chakotay, you're crowding me," Tom groused as he leaned over the table to make a shot.

 Chakotay was crowding him; his hip was almost against Tom's. Tom muffed the shot, immediately turning on Chakotay, "Christ almighty, it's not a small room, why the hell aren't you some place else in it?"

 "Because I don't want to be," Chakotay said, as he wrestled the cue from Tom's hand and slapped it onto the surface of the pool table. Tom moved to shove the intent man away, but Chakotay wasn't budging.

"What the hell do you want?" Tom tried to move away, but the Commander grasped a handful of shirt, yanking Tom into an awkward, unbreakable hold.

"Do I have to spell it out?"

Tom stilled and gave Chakotay a look that made Kathryn clutch her stomach. From her place in the shadow of the heavy door, she was transfixed by the barbed interaction of her two crew members.

 Tom's eyes fixed on Chakotay in a mixture of disgust and lust. The taunting look she remembered from years ago reemerged as the smirk lifted one side of his mouth. "No, you don't have to spell it out," Tom said as he moved slightly. Chakotay blocked a good deal of the younger man's body from Kathryn's view, but she knew what Tom was doing. "I know what you want." He paused, the smirk spread across his face. "No, thank you."

 Tom moved to press past. Kathryn shrank back, ready to make an escape, but it wasn't necessary. Chakotay stopped Tom.

 "Looks like you have the same problem I do," Chakotay said.

 So, the smirk was just a bluff, Kathryn thought.

 "Maybe," Tom drawled, "but don't you find me a poor substitute for who you really want?" He sucked breath in under unseen pressure.

 "That's my worry."

"Mine, too. But I won't be able to lower my voice to that same sexy purr, if you don't stop squeezing my pecker like that," Tom was all but purring as it was.

 But Chakotay squeezed, nearly lifting Tom from his feet.

"Maybe I don't want to be a poor substitute," Tom's voice was a pained breath.

 "You're not a 'poor' substitute, just a substitute."

 "I guess, I'll have to take it up the ass."

 "Or you could suck it."

 Tom's sigh was an angry hiss. His hands came up to mold strong shoulders and pass down triceps. He grasped the hard muscle at the back of the older man's arms. "You are a son-of-a-bitch."

 Chakotay made no verbal response, but Kathryn imagined his face showed an expression that Tom smirked at. Whatever the expression, Tom was pushed against the pool table, Chakotay pinned him there.

 "Tell me to stop," Chakotay said softly up into the flushed face. "Tell me and I'll walk out that door."

 Tom's chest heaved as he stared down into the darkest eyes.

"Say it," Chakotay taunted.

 Tom's eyes closed against the intensity that stared up into them. Chakotay had his answer and stood on the balls of his feet to level himself off with his adversary. "You want it don't you. You can't have her, you'll settle for me. Right?"

 When no answer came, Chakotay grasped his shirt and shook him, "Right?"


 B'Elanna. Was Tom having problems with B'Elanna again?

 "Well, she doesn't want me and she sure doesn't want you."

 Tom's eyes narrowed as he looked into the eyes of the Commander. "That's because I never gotta real chance to go after her. I deferred to you."


"You were in line first, Chakotay."

 "I was." There was an emphatic quality to the statement.

 "But I saw her first."

 B'Elanna? That wasn't right, was it? She belonged to Chakotay's Maquis cell.

 "When I looked up from my work detail," Tom continued, "and saw her standing there, looming like a dark cloud, I wanted her."

 Chakotay was pulling Tom's shirt tail from his pants, his lips at Tom's collar, muffling his words, "And she had only one thing in mind for her bad boy."

 Again Tom eyes narrowed. "That's right," he taunted, "She wanted to get her man. And bring him back to throw in prison."

 The shirt was worked up and over Tom's head. Now Chakotay worked on the loose pants, with help from Tom. The sound of disrobing and breath filled the bar. Kathryn was surprised they couldn't hear the roar of blood in her ears.

 Once their clothes were gone, so was any pretense of why they were there. They were there for sex. With each other. No way they could deny their attraction, anymore than they could deny the real reason for coming together. Frustration, bitter, angry, never ending frustration at the unattainable: herself.

 In charge of this little tryst, Chakotay turned Tom to face the pool table and the pilot assumed the position: hands shoulder width apart, feet about that wide, knees slightly bent, offering his ass to the Commander. He dropped his head forward, almost touching the wood rail of the table.

 Chakotay brought his hands to skim the pale back and ribcage. The contrast of skin color effected Kathryn almost as much as watching these two men she knew so well prepare for sex.

 Man sex. Kathryn had never even imagined what it would look like. She was aware it existed, knew crew members were in same sex unions. But she never contemplated it. She had enough trouble trying to quell her normal sexual emotions to even entertain the idea of her seeking satisfaction with a member of her own sex.

But the rough, hot way Chakotay's hands moved over the flushed skin mesmerized her. Even in this dim light, the pale skin shone pink. Kathryn was fascinated by the way the muscles moved as the skin was skimmed, twitching reaction to Chakotay's apt ministrations.

It wasn't long before the Commander slid a hand between Paris's legs causing him to rear back. "No lube."

 Kathryn frowned.

"Fucker, the regenerator comes out of your credits."

 Oh, no. Kathryn realized this was not lovemaking, it was fucking. Plain, simple fucking. No--plain, maybe, but not simple. She watched Tom pitch and arch as Chakotay stretched him roughly, prodding really.

 "Ready?" Tom pitched forward at Chakotay's question.

 "Do it," he ordered, his teeth gritted.

 "Ask nice," Chakotay taunted.

 "Fuck you," Tom groaned.

 And Chakotay did. Pushed in with brutal force and Tom shouted. Kathryn had to bite her lip to keep from groaning herself.

 "Like it?" the older man wanted to know.

 "Hell, no, it hurts."

 Chakotay stilled. "You want me to stop?"

 "Hell, no. Just slow up a minute. You don't have a needle dick, you know."

 Was that a smile on her first officer's face? Janeway couldn't tell. But Chakotay did slow his penetration, and began to let his hands examine Tom's torso. "Tell me when you're ready," he said as his hips slowly rotated, his stimulation of Tom an easy thing compared to the earlier volatility.

 Tom hummed a response.

"You're not my second choice, Tom," Chakotay said softly.

Tom kept humming.

 "You're my other choice."

 Tom made an acknowledging sound.

 "I don't care which one I have," he whispered, the seductive breath of his voice chilled Kathryn, "I want you both."

 Tom began to move in time with Chakotay's rotating hips. Tom made noise, but no comment as he moved under the gentle strokes of strong hands.

Kathryn slowly came out of her daze and began to ease the bar door shut. A hand settled on her flushed cheek as she mused over the scene she had just witnessed, a scene that was still being enacted. The animal noises of the coupling floating through the flimsy door of the faux bar. She exited the holodeck.


 Her coffee had been long cold when she brought it to her lips. She drank it anyway.

The anger stemmed from many places. These two 'bucks' (for lack of a better word) were not going to make her drift from her stance of non-fraternization because of words uttered in the heat of--heat. She was focused on returning to Voyager and neither of these two were going to dissuade her from that adherence to protocol, damn it.

 Damn it.

 She had known about Chakotay. Hell, who didn't know about how Chakotay felt about her? Tom--that was a surprise. Admiration was the emotion that she would have associated with Lt. Paris. Lust, love, want. That had never occurred to her.



 The pilot stopped short of tripping Ready Room proximity alarm, looking back over his shoulder at his first officer. Their relationship over the past few days had been that of an armed truce.

"Don't you think we should talk over what we're going to say?" Chakotay asked quietly as he joined the younger man in front of the door.

 "What--so we get our story straight?" Tom said with strong irritation. "We don't know what she knows or how she knows it. How can we prepare for that?"

 "Tom," Chakotay began, to be interrupted.

 "Janeway to Chakotay and Paris."

 "Chakotay here."

 "I'd like to see you and Mr. Paris in my Ready Room."

 Chakotay shrugged, his face sheepish. He swept his arm in front of Tom, indicating he should lead the way.


 Chakotay sat in front of Kathryn's desk. Tom had declined the seat, remaining on his feet, but not still. She watched the pair for another moment. Her silence was unnerving the younger man, while fostering a growth of serenity in her first officer.

 "As you know, gentlemen, I was privy to an event that has caused me some chagrin."

 "Captain," Tom began, but was interrupted by a raised hand.

 "Tom, I'm going to finish saying my piece. Several nights ago I wanted to use the holodeck, and I found it was occupied. Instead of respecting your privacy, I broke into it. Lurked. And heard and saw things I shouldn't have."

 By now Tom was agitated. He had climbed the steps to the Ready Room sofa and bounced onto it. His color was high and his fuse was shortening. Janeway would have to finish quickly.

 She focused her attention on Chakotay. "I'm sorry for invading your privacy," she said. "I should have made my presence known. Or at very least left immediately."

 "No need to apologize for your curiosity, Captain." Chakotay's voice was quiet. "If you apologize, then I would have to apologize for things I said in the heat of the moment." There was a pause. "That's something I'm not prepared to do."

 The silence was thick. Tom stood and stepped down to desk level. "Chakotay?"

 The older man looked up at Tom, then back to the Captain. "I know what you're going to say next, Kathryn. That you admire and respect the both of us, but there's no place in your life for a relationship until we get back to the Alpha Quadrant."

 Janeway's shoulders sagged and she leaned back into her chair. She gave Chakotay this lecture one too many times.

 She didn't need to signal him to continue. He leaned forward in his chair, "I checked the logs in the holodeck system. I know when you were there and, approximately, what you saw."

 Janeway swallowed.

"Tom and I had been on the edge of that little tryst for some time. I don't regret it." He flicked another looked at Tom. "I regret the lack of comfort, but not the event."

 Now he looked at Kathryn again. "I know I can't expect you to throw off your command cloak for me. I really don't anymore." He shrugged. "But you can't expect me to give it up without some sense of loss. It came out as anger."

 He gave Tom a long look this time. "If I should apologize to anyone, it should be you, Tom."

 Tom dropped his butt on Janeway's desk without permission. "This conversation isn't going the way I thought it would," his voice sounded dazed.

Janeway looked from Chakotay to Tom. "Me, neither."

 Tom sighed, leaving the desktop to pace again. "Help me understand; what do you want?"

 Chakotay craned his head, not comfortable with Janeway's presence. "To get to know you better." Tom craned his neck, as if in pain, and kept pacing. Chakotay sighed, turning back to Janeway. "It's not a line, Tom."

 "Gentleman," Kathryn said as she turned back to the matter at hand. "I don't know that we resolved anything here except get the problem out into the open."

 That was enough for Chakotay, who rose to go. "We've resolved much, Captain."

 "And opened other cans of worms," Tom said as he headed for the Ready Room door, dismissing himself.

 Chakotay shook his head and rubbed the back of his neck.

"I'm sorry, Chakotay," Kathryn whispered.

Brown eyes bored deeply into hers. "I told you not to apologize," he said. "Your reasons for nothing happening between us are valid. It's time I started to respect them. I just hope there's something salvageable with Lt. Paris."

 The sadness that usually accompanied these conversations appeared in Kathryn's eyes. "I hope so, too."

 The end.

 Like it? Hate it? Want to tell me I forgot the lube? Do it here.