Title:  Who Cares?  © November, 2000 
Author: Bridget Cochran
Part:  2/2
Fandom:  Star Trek Voyager
Series: Maquis Daze
Pairing:  Chakotay/Paris
Rating:  NC-17
Archive:  No where, thank you.
Feedback Addy: bjcochran@aol.com
Web Addy if applicable: no website at this time. 
Warnings: I don't own them, Paramount does.  I own the ideas. 
Feedback:  Constructive please.   Flames are mean spirited. 
Acknowledgements:  For Cathy, who loves the Maquis Daze.  For Karen/s and Anita who are always there to give things a look.  Any typos, etc reflect on me.

Summary:  Tom gets through prison, Chakotay keeps marauding.  They meet again in the Delta Quadrant.  This story involves a good deal of Caretaker canon.


Now he had quarters.  And a uniform.  And pips.  He was Starfleet 
again.  An honest-to-god lieutenant.  Janeway had smiled at him when he couldn't speak, somehow understanding what he felt.  She'd never 
know exactly. 

Chakotay's life belonged to him, but Chakotay was his senior 
officer.  Did it even them out; put them on equal footing?  No. 
Chakotay was his superior in every way.

Tom sat on his sofa, half out of his new uniform, wondering where all 
the stupid bravado he took into the Maquis went.  He should march 
right into Chakotay's quarters and, and--fall on his knees and beg 
for his dick.

Yeah.  That would be smooth.  Very Starfleet.  Tom didn't know what 
he was going to do.  After he showered, shaved and ate.  After he 
took a nap, and explored the ship.  After he laid in bed at night 
thinking about the man who was his senior officer.

A man he'd never stopped thinking about.  The door signal 
went.  "Come," he called, but stayed where he was, sprawled and 

Expecting Harry, he got Chakotay.  Tom sat up and looked around for 
his turtleneck and jacket, but they were in two different places. 
His eyes settled back on Chakotay.  Oh, shit.  He'd recognize that 
look anywhere.

That, I'm-pissed-let's-fuck look.  Tom began to pull off his t-shirt.  If that's all he was going to get, he'd take it.  Chakotay stared a hole into Tom as he removed his uniform.  Tom didn't bother to look at him.  He didn't have the energy to face the censure, the 
doubt, the disgust.  Ah, the sacrifices to self-esteem you made to 
get touched by someone you love. 

He stood to pull off his trousers and briefs and was pushed back down 
onto the sofa naked.  That would work just as well as any place. 
Chakotay, as naked as he was, kneed himself around Tom, straddling 

Tom looked up, a frown marring his brow.  What now?  Chakotay's face was still cut in stone.  His eyes were nearly black, hard as 
diamonds, steady as a star.  Tom was mesmerized. 

A hand moved across his bare shoulder, but Chakotay remained silent and Tom's silence gave him permission.  The other hand touched 
pinkening skin, exploring in mirror.  They weren't gentle as they 
molded his flesh, nails scratched across his nipples, dug into his 
arm pits.  Tom winced and moaned, not wanting to close his eyes. 
But, god, the sensation was too good.  His breath rasped, and he 
whimpered, actually whimpered, when Chakotay's mouth found his tit. 

That was the signal the older man needed and began to assault Tom 
with the mouth and hands, settling on his lap, grinding into his 
rising prick.  Tom squirmed under the assaulting mouth, wincing as 
lips suctioned skin.  A hand grasped his penis, pulling the flesh 
roughly upwards to cover the glans.  He felt out of control as he 
humped wildly into the hand. 

This is what he wanted.  What he had needed.  His hands were on 
Chakotay's back, moving inexorably to the man's ass.  His beautiful 
brown butt. 

As his skilled hand skimmed the surface of the smooth flesh, he 
wallowed in instantaneous tactile memory as it flooded through him. 
This was what was good in the universe.  Fingers brushed into 
Chakotay's crack, wrenching a sigh from the older man.  A hand left 
Tom's body to grasp one of his own.  Bringing it to his lips, 
Chakotay drew the middle finger between them and deep into his 
mouth.  Their eyes were locked as he sucked the finger hard.  Tom 
slipped another finger into his mouth, turned on just watching the 
man chew on them.

But they were out of the mouth and on their way back to Chakotay's 
ass before it registered in Tom's brain.  But he finally got it and 
moved his fingers toward Chakotay's goal. 

The ring was stiff at first, but Tom was persistent, pushing none too 
gently until he was in.  Chakotay rose on his knees to ease the 
penetration to allow Tom all the access he wanted.  All the access 
Chakotay obviously craved. 

This was too much, way too hot.  Chakotay began to move on Tom's 
fingers as they scissored within the sheath.  "I want your ass," Tom 
murmured against the ear.  Lips once again assaulted his aching 

"Then fuck me," Chakotay said.  They moved on the couch, Tom's 
fingers still buried in Chakotay, until the younger man was behind 
his lover.  His love.  Easing another finger in.  "This is gonna be a 
rough ride.  I don't have anything."  He brushed the knob of 
prostate, bringing shivers of motion and sound from Chakotay.  That 
was one way to soften the blow of his words.  Tom lay across 
Chakotay's back rubbing his nose on the back of the buzz cut hair, 
working his fingers, preparing Chakotay to receive what he so much 
wanted to give.  "Fuck me," Chakotay repeated.  "Do it."

Tom brought his raging dick into contact with Chakotay's 
balls.  "This what you want?" The teasing was cruel, he knew it. 
Just made it all a little sweeter.  "This what you're waiting for?"

"Shit, yeah.  Quit fucking around, Paris."

Tom had to laugh.  "Poor choice of words, Chakotay."

"God damn it."  The man's frustration was high, but Tom was once more in charge of something.  It hadn't happened in a long while--years and he was going to savor it, rubbing his prick against the back of wrinkled balls that he knew tasted so, so good.  His buried fingers were warm with a heat that touched Tom deep within himself in places he didn't even look.  He was fast approaching sensory overload. 

Positioning his rock hard penis beside his probing fingers, Tom began 
to ease past the fingers.  Shit, that felt wonderful.  Absolutely 
incredible.  He groaned as Chakotay opened easily underneath 
him.  "Christ, that's good."  It was.  It was better than good, and 
Tom couldn't stop groaning in appreciation as he sunk deeper into the glorious depths.  As soon as he was all in, he paused.  "You ready 'cause this is going to be quick and dirty."

"Just fuck," was the reply. 

Rearing back without another word, Tom plunged deep and hard into 
Chakotay.  The man met his thrust, and the pace was set.  Grunting 
became louder as the movement became more frenzied.  The bounce of bodies, the slap of sweaty skin along with voices now un- recognizable combined to push the two lovers toward a communion not expected when they met as angry adversaries on Voyager's bridge only a short time ago.

"Fuck," Tom growled as his balls clutched, tingling, sending his 
semen deep into Chakotay.  "Bastard," Chakotay hissed, as he was 
crushed beneath Tom, his own erection screaming for release.  Tom was aware of the older man angling under him, and that he was pulling on his pud, but Tom's body was incapable of rendering any assistance.  He was breathing hard, trying to keep from passing out. 

"God, you have the best ass," he murmured.  "Hot, tight.  Just made 
for my dick."  Chakotay's pace toward his own release quickened.  "I've thought about it a lot," Tom kept talking, a hand on the older man's hip bone.  "The thought of my mouth on your dick got me through many a night on Aukland."  Tom knew exactly what he was doing.  "The taste, the smell, the feel.  I could feel the slit on the tip of my tongue."  His tongue touched Chakotay's shoulder and the older man pitched forward, coming with a grunt into his hand.

Chakotay stilled, and Tom didn't know what to do now.  Move off of 
Chakotay to get them cleaned up?  No, it was too soon to move.  The 
couch would be a major clean up job.  Couldn't just throw it into 
the 'fresher.  That's why bed sheets were removable, he guessed.

Well, thinking about housekeeping kept him from thinking about what 
just happened.  About his freaking testosterone triumphing once again over better judgment.  Lots of things triumphed over better judgment 
where Chakotay was concerned. 

"Get off, Paris."

There was his answer.  Pushing up, residual semen had cooled  to a 
crust.  Just like the air in the room.  Just like Tom.  He picked up 
the tangle of his pants and underwear, silently putting them on. 

Chakotay rolled over to face Tom, and the younger man felt his 
scrutiny.  Okay, stone-faced, silent Chakotay.  That was something he 
didn't fantasize about in Aukland.  But, it was part of Chakotay, for 
better or worse.  He'd just have to get over it if he wanted any kind 
of relationship with Chakotay.  Professional or otherwise.

Chakotay moved to his pile of uniform and picked up his underwear. 
Tom watched him dress, the silence thick.  Felt like the beginning of 
a kiss off.  He sure knew what they felt like.  And it felt bad.

The last time they had been together in bed had been a white hot shot of desperation.  This time had been a little like that, but without 
lube.  A quick fuck on the couch was not the stuff of romantic 
dreams, even if it were close to Tom's midnight fantasies. 

Tom had learned a long time ago that romantic fantasies were not for 
him.  That'd never been in the cards for him.  And his luck had been 
too good lately to expect it to rub off into his love life.  Frankly, 
all this good luck had to end somewhere.  So, he shrugged mentally, 
it would end with Chakotay.

He had no idea how long Chakotay had been staring at him.  His eyes 
were hard and dark, and god damn it, they were turning Tom on again.  He knew that a flush was starting as he stood watching the man watch him, yet he couldn't break his stare. 

He didn't have to.  Chakotay came to him and raised a hand to his 
face.  It was all Tom could do not to flinch from it.  Had he really 
expected Chakotay to hit him? 

The other man must have seen some of the fear in Tom's eyes, and his face took on a sad look.   "A lot's changed Tom.  I'm not sure what the future holds.  But I want to thank you for everything you've done 
so far."  Tom frowned.  This was some speech.  "You hold my life in 
your hands."

And he left.  Drops a bomb like 'my life's in your hands', then 
leaves.  Tom moved to the couch to stand staring at the aftermath of 
lust wondering what happened, and why he felt so bereft.  So, what 
did Chakotay mean?  Was this fuck fest going to happen again?  Could he get some ass when he wanted it?  Is that was what Chakotay was offering?  Is that what Tom wanted?

Any hope of sleep that night went out the airlock, so Tom asked the 
computer what the replicator could produce to remove organic stains. 
He also replicated some lubricant.  Who knew what the future held?

The end.

Like it?  Hate it?  Tell me at bjcochran@aol.com