This is pwp fluff, mindless fluff, meaningless fluff, pointless fluff, NC-17 fluff. Apparently I have nothing better to do on a Sunday afternoon except think about worn out Levi‘s ;-)
Disclaimer: Star Trek and its characters are the property of Viacom/Paramount. I am just borrowing them for fun, not profit.
by Julie Evans (email@example.com)
When Tom Paris realized exactly what he was looking at, he felt his pulse quicken. She was trying to torture him again. And she was so damned good at it. B‘Elanna looked back at him and her mouth curved into a small perplexed smile, innocent of guile. "Tom, what are you doing here? I thought you were on duty tonight." What was he doing here? For a moment his ability to think coherently deserted him. He stared at B‘Elanna. She stood a meter from him, barefoot and dressed in jeans and a short white sleeveless t-shirt that left a centimeter wide swath of smooth honey colored skin exposed. Those jeans. The ones he loved. The ones that were barely in one piece, that were faded to just a hint of whitewashed blue. The knees were worn to a mesh of white cotton fibers, and in various places the seams were held together visibly by threads of white cotton that threatened to tear open into full blown holes. The seam along the rise of her left hip, the seam high along the inner curve of her left thigh, the frayed hem of the waistband that rode just below her navel...
"Tom!" B‘Elanna‘s voice interrupted his inspection. She looked at him questioningly, as if she had no idea what she was doing to him.
Tom looked at the fraying zipper cover of her jeans, and at the worn seam right below where the cotton threads had separated and left a small, ragged hole. A hole he knew he could just put his finger into...
"Tom, I repeat, aren‘t you supposed to be working?" As she spoke, B‘Elanna turned and walked several steps toward her couch where several pieces of clothing were strewn. A free evening and B‘Elanna was cleaning house, Tom thought, right before his mind drifted into incoherence again as he watched her lean over to pick up several of the discarded uniform pieces. The soft worn denim that fit her like a second skin tightened over her beautifully shaped derriere. And the seams along the back pockets, continually stressed beyond endurance, had broken in several spots into small holes crossed with white thread...and in one spot into a larger hole where the silky white satin of B‘Elanna‘s panties peeked through.
B‘Elanna turned around and deprived Tom of his view. She folded a uniform shirt slowly in her hands and dropped it on the coffee table, watching him all the time.
"I‘m on a break," Tom finally spoke, answering the question B‘Elanna had posed twice since he‘d walked into her quarters. Was that only a minute or two ago? And she‘d asked another question...oh, yeah. Why he was here. "I just wanted to see you." B‘Elanna‘s mouth curved slowly into a genuine smile at his simple statement, and Tom realized he‘d said exactly the right thing. And it was true. He hated it when they were so busy working double shifts that they literally didn‘t see each other for an entire day, let alone have time to spare for...anything else. He‘d come here just to say hi, to see her face, to ask how her day was, and maybe to get just that smile out of her. At least that was his original intention.
Tom blinked at B‘Elanna‘s question, then realized she was asking how long his break was. "Oh. Half an hour." "Or about twenty minutes now," B‘Elanna said, tossing a pair of socks onto the coffee table. "Not long enough." Her voice sounded faintly resigned. "More like twenty two minutes," he said, glancing at her wall chrono, then taking several steps until he was standing right in front of her. He moistened his lips with his tongue. "Do you wear those jeans just to drive me crazy?" B‘Elanna shook her head. "I‘ve told you, I wear them because they‘re comfortable. I like the way they feel on me." She had told him that last time he‘d seen them on her and had had the same unexpected reaction. It was just denim, very worn denim given they‘d been the first article of clothing besides uniforms she‘d replicated when she‘d arrived on Voyager four years ago. She‘d quite wearing them outside her quarters once they‘d started to fall apart a little. She didn‘t quite get the effect they seemed to have on him, but her lips curved up just slightly and her eyes locked on his intense gaze. "That they drive you crazy is just an added bonus." His gaze narrowed slightly. "You enjoy that, don‘t you?" His hand grazed along the soft denim that clung to her hip. "And I like the way they feel on you, too." B‘Elanna shook her head. "Tom, you‘re on duty-" "Not for twenty...one minutes." His hand slid up her hip and his fingers skimmed the sensitive skin above the waistband of her jeans. This time it was B‘Elanna who moistened her lips with her tongue. "You don‘t have time to take a shower, and I don‘t-" "You don‘t want me to smell like you, B‘Elanna," Tom finished for her, his fingers dipping just slightly into her waistband. "Like us together. Like sex." "Not on the bridge." B‘Elanna‘s voice was just slightly breathless.
"I‘m on duty in Sickbay tonight." Tom‘s knuckles pressed gently against B‘Elanna‘s abdomen and his thumb manipulated the waistband just enough to force the small metal button that said Levi Strauss to pop out of its buttonhole.
B‘Elanna couldn‘t quite control her small intake of breath at the subtle movement of Tom‘s hand. "Oh." She didn‘t even know his duty schedule, they‘d had so little time together recently. "Tom, it‘s still not very professional-" Tom‘s fingers slid out of her waistband. "Nineteen minutes. I wish I could stay all night. Maybe you‘re right though. Maybe it‘s not enough time." His hand drifted past her open waistband down her zipper front. "If you really don‘t want to..." B‘Elanna gasped as Tom‘s hand stopped where her jeans pressed against the juncture of her crotch and his finger unerringly found the small hole worn into the seam there. "Tom!" Tom pressed his little finger through the hole, just large enough to allow him access, and probably made a little larger by his action. His finger encountered the cool satin of her panties. Cool satin that warmed at his touch. Satin that was definitely...damp. And he felt B‘Elanna arch her pelvis involuntarily. He pressed the heel of his hand harder against her and stroked her once with his finger and felt her shudder. And the pulse at the base of her throat was fluttering. He leaned down to touch his lips to it, and let the tip of his tongue touch her warm skin. "I can do this much anyway-" "No." B‘Elanna pushed Tom‘s head away, and his hand stilled as he stared down at her. Then her hands gripped the edge of his uniform shirt and tugged it roughly upward. A moment later she had his pants unfastened and he realized what she meant. "Seventeen minutes," Tom said softly. He moved his hand to the zipper of her jeans and tugged once. "We have all kinds of time-" B‘Elanna gripped his head with one hand and her mouth closed over his, her tongue delving deeply. Her other hand pushed his pants down. Tom pushed at her jeans just enough so that he could get his hand into a position to cup her fully. She responded by arching against him again and wrapping one leg around him. His hand, caught tightly between the taut material of her jeans and the warm wetness of her center incited her to ground even harder against him. The weight of her, and the fact that his pants were down around his knees and restricting his movement, served to unbalance him, and he fell backward onto the carpeted floor, taking her with him.
"Okay?" B‘Elanna asked in a throaty voice, as she landed on his chest with a thud, and he groaned. Tom didn‘t answer, and she assumed his groan was from the weight of her body against his obvious arousal rather than from pain. His hands were already moving again and she shifted upward while he used one hand to pull her jeans down from behind. She shimmied free of the denim and kicked the jeans aside, then quickly pulled his briefs down to his knees, exposing his erection.
"B‘Elanna," Tom groaned as she closed a hand around him. His own hand that had been expertly arousing her gripped her panties and in one swift movement pulled them down her legs. B‘Elanna‘s hand caught his and she tossed the wet satin aside. He‘d felt that she was ready and her other hand was pumping him now, and he couldn‘t wait much longer. She straddled him and he gripped her hips and pulled her down on him, burying himself deep inside her.
He heard her growl his name as she began to ride him and he answered her thrust for thrust. His hands gripped her hips as their rhythm intensified then slid up her body and under her t shirt to her breasts to knead the taut peaks. They were both breathing in ragged gasps now and she threw her head back and cried out as she came. Her orgasm brought about his, and he held her up for a moment as they both rode the intense waves. Then as the waves subsided into a pleasurable lassitude he pulled her down on top of him and his arms wrapped around her, hugging her to him. He felt her lips resting softly against his throat and her heart beating hard against his. They lay that way for several minutes, with Tom still inside her, before he spoke.
"B‘Elanna, I‘m sorry that was so fast-"
A quick rush of warm breath caressed his throat as B‘Elanna chuckled. She pulled up enough to look down at him. "Tom, you must have noticed that I liked it." She smiled teasingly. "I like it with you slow, fast, rough, gentle, in the bed, on the floor..." Tom threaded his fingers through her hair and brought her mouth down to his. They kissed slowly, leisurely, lips and tongues gently exploring. "Have we ever done it in bed?" he finally asked softly against her lips.
"Once or twice," she murmured. "When we‘ve taken enough time to do it slow..." She sat up suddenly and looked across the room.
"B‘Elanna?" Almost as soon as he said her name Tom suddenly remembered where he was. When he was. He pulled reluctantly out of her as she started to stand.
"You‘re on duty in eight minutes. You can use my shower and I‘ll run over to your quarters and get you a fresh uniform." Tom kicked off his pants and pulled off his now wrinkled uniform shirt. It definitely smelled like sweat, the sweat of uninhibited sex. It smelled like B‘Elanna. He watched her straighten her t-shirt, which had ridden up during their frenetic activity, and quickly pull on her jeans.
"Don‘t worry about your uniform, Tom," B‘Elanna said as she grabbed a long sleeved cotton shirt out of her closet. "I‘ll throw your stuff in the laundry chute with mine." He dropped his shirt on the coffee table where her uniform pieces from today were piled, and grinned as she pulled the shirt on. It was oversized, and hung to her mid thighs, hiding the more provocatively worn areas of her jeans, that he was sure had worn even more tonight, if he could get a good look... "Stop staring at me and go!" B‘Elanna ordered. Tom complied and stepped into her bathroom. In the interest of speed he used the sonic setting, and three minutes later he stepped out again. Luckily their quarters were separated by only a few doors and B‘Elanna was already back with his fresh uniform. He met her right outside the bathroom and quickly pulled on his pants. "Three minutes," she said, helping him pull his shirt over his head.
Tom grabbed his shoes and put them on awkwardly as he hobbled toward the door. He turned in front of the door and looked at B‘Elanna who was right behind him. Her hair was mussed, her mouth was still slightly swollen from their lovemaking, and her clothes were none too orderly given her haste to get them back on. He smiled. "Gods, you look beautiful." He leaned over and kissed her softly on the lips. He snaked a hand around her and pressed it against her denim clad rear end. "What about tomorrow night?" B‘Elanna slid her own hands around his hips and moved slightly closer to him. She smiled. "It‘s my turn to work a double shift." "Half hour break?" Tom asked, eye narrowed speculatively.
"I think I‘ll be cleaning up my quarters tomorrow night." B‘Elanna rolled her eyes. "Two minutes, Tom." She slapped his butt lightly and pulled away.
"Okay." He moved a step back and activated the door sensor.
He gave her a thoughtful look as he stepped through the doorway. "I think I‘ll wear my Levi‘s blue jeans tomorrow night." He took another step into the corridor and the door started to close. "They are kind of old and worn..." A sly grin crossed his face. "But they fit pretty well." The door closed and B‘Elanna stared at it for a split second. Those jeans fit really well. She rushed the door, which slid open just quickly enough so that she didn‘t collide with it, and hurtled out into the deserted corridor. Tom was in a half sprint, just rounding the far corner. "My break‘s at 2030." At the sound of B‘Elanna‘s voice Tom grabbed the edge of the corner bulkhead and ground to a halt. He looked back at B‘Elanna. "That‘s exactly when I‘ll be cleaning my quarters." He threw her one last provocative grin and sprinted toward the turbolift. When Tom rushed into Sickbay the doctor opened his mouth while simultaneously looking at the chronometer near the door. Then he frowned and his mouth closed again. Tom glanced at the chronometer. 2130. Half an hour to the exact second. Damn, he was good. Tom grinned at the doctor, who simply raised an eyebrow, then returned his attention to the monitor in front of him. And much to the doctor‘s continued annoyance, that satisfied grin stayed on Tom‘s face for the rest of his shift.