Warning: the following story contains semi-explicit m/m contents.
Disclaimer: Chakotay, Paris, Ayala and Geron belong to Paramount Pictures
Pairings: Ayala/Geron (Chakotay/Paris implied)
Fandom: ST: VOY
Category: angst, violence, m/m sex
Warning: violence, DARK thoughts
Summary: Geron's thoughts. A companion piece to "Peacock". **Strong content** A short fic.
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Peacock Redux: Hunting hawk
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I watch him everyday, noticing how pleasant he is to everyone onboard the ship. He smiles, he laughs, he teases. His face is friendly and open. It is a face that everyone likes and admires. People automatically respond to him with a friendly greeting.
I watch him everyday as he goes about his job. He sticks to his post, obedient to the orders from the senior officers. He is reliable and people trust him. He is a married man with children. A father. Someone who is trustworthy.
I watch him at night. He strips in the dark and appears nude in front of me. He kisses me, his lips bruising mine. It is all brute force from now with his mouth biting my skin, licking me ravenously and ramming his heavy cock into me until I cry out with pain. I grit my teeth as he pounds into me like a savage beast and sometimes I weep myself to sleep.
He sleeps on as I steal away back to my quarters. I wash myself thoroughly in the shower. Every night, there will be new lacerations. New bite-marks. And I stand under the hot water, wanting them to go away.
Then, I will watch him again.
He really hates Tom Paris. I don't know why but he really does. But I am getting frightened. I am scared because the man I sleeps with seems to be possessed with an evil pah'wraith. He is so malevolent, his dark eyes becoming glassy as he talks about Tom and his 'mistakes'. Sometimes, I just listen, wanting so much to sink into the bed and disappear.
But he will grab me by the neck and force me to listen. I want to run away, shout for help. Do something.
He will simply pin me down and fuck me until I collapse with sheer exhaustion and fear. He will whisper in my ear, telling me to cry out. Say his name. I have no choice but to obey. He will thrust harder, not caring if I bleed or I beg for him to stop.
I will stand in my shower and cry.
Donna notices it and she draws me aside, demanding to know what is going on. I simply shake my head and say nothing. I am only a quiet Bajoran kid who is known for his reticence. Even, Dalby my good friend wants to know.
I simply say that I am tired.
Will people believe me? Will they listen to me if I say that he hates Tom with an obsession? Will they not believe me because he is a nice man, a responsible officer who does his job well?
Will they listen to Geron, a former Maquis and a Bajoran to boot?
He is a man with children. A trustworthy man who has the respect of everyone. Unlike me.
Should I tell the captain? But then, will she believe me?
I want to warn Tom Paris.
Or Commander Chakotay.
But will he believe me?
I watch him walk confidently across the Messhall,, approaching me. He smiles, a kindly one that doesn't reach his eyes. Everyone continues talking, laughing over their plates of Delta Quadrant food. They don't really care much about Ayala being nice to the resident angsty Bajoran kid. I look up at him, seeing the madness in his eyes and gaze away, deeply revolted. He places a plate of edible Bajoran nuts on the table.
This means that he wants sex later.
I can feel his gaze on me like a raging fire. I shudder inwardly. He demands an answer.
I reach out my hand, pick up a brown nut and put it in my mouth. Satisfied, he nods and leaves. It must be a heartwarming tableau: nice Ayala giving food to Geron. The nut tastes like ash and I spit it out, hating myself. I feel horrible, my bile rising in my throat and I hurry to my usual post, praying to the Prophets.
Forgive me please because I am weak, useless. Oh Prophets, give me strength to live another day!
I close my eyes, stilling my body for the new bruises and cuts. For the sores between my legs.
One day, I will have enough courage to tell the captain. One day, I will be brave enough like a hunting desert hawk.
Now, I can only pray and wish for the pain to go away.