Warning: the following story contains m/m contents. Please press 'delete' if you are easily offended by homosexuality. Please press 'delete' if you are below 18.

Disclaimer: Chakotay and Paris belong to Paramount Pictures. This story is not written for profit.

Author: Ki

Pairing: C/P

Category: angst, POV

Rating: NC-17

Warning: bits of m/m sex, implications of violence

Summary: A short fic inspired by the swiftlets darting outside the computer lab. 


I look at you when you sleep. Your face looks peaceful, the lines gone. Your chest rises slowly. Up and down. 

You are beautiful when you are sleeping. Beautiful. Child-like. Your hands resting under your head. Your bare body smooth under the sheets. You remind me of the swiftlets I have seen nesting at my grandmother's place. 

Yes. Swiflets. Small and fast, like tiny feathered balls of energy. Flying with a sense of freedom. 

You crackle with that kind of energy, do you know that? When we make love, you glisten with sweat, rising above me. Your cries of pleasure please me when I stroke your engorged cock. Your bright eyes urging me on.

Yet, do you realise how fragile you are? You are like the swiftlet. Lightning-quick but very delicate. 

I used to have a swiftlet once. I rescued it, brought it home. It had an injured wing and it was flopping, helpless, on the ground when I saw it. It fit right into my palm. No, it was smaller and lighter than a feather. I nursed it back to health. It couldn't eat at first but I had to feed it with an eye-drop bottle. When it managed to flap its wings, I was so relieved. 

You are stirring now, a soft murmur coming from your lips. I reach out and caress your brow, feeling the coolness beneath my hands.

Swiftlets. The Chinese considers their nests a delicacy. 

Have you ever seen the eggs of the swiftlet? They are so small. If I squeeze my hand, the egg will be crushed instantly.

I saw the eggs once. Near the barn house. I always liked to see the swiftlets there, building their bowl-like nests. Yet, that day was different. A group of neighborhood kids were throwing stones at the nests and I could see the swiftlets flying about frantically. They were laughing, those cruel children. The stones flew across the air, hit the week-old nests and the nests were crumbling, breaking into halves. Those devils were stomping on the fragments with their boots.

You know something? I ran straight at them, brandishing a tree branch. They saw me, dropped their stones and scattered, running away like cowards.

You stir once more, the sheets shifting about you. I can see your exposed legs. With a smile, I touch your torso with a finger and you murmur in your sleep. I long to see your eyes. They brighten up when I smile, darken with emotion when I feel depressed. 

Well, I will probably bore you with my swiftlet story. No, wait. I know how you feel about injustice. The swiftlet story will probably make you angry. I know that look on your face when you are mad. You will go all still on me and your face will become devoid of emotion. You will become stone cold, like the time on the Bridge when you faced off with the Captain.

How do you feel when you see the broken pieces of nesting material lying on the ground, looking as if they had been ripped apart and tossed away?

Then I saw the eggs. They were so tiny that I almost missed them. They were shattered Egg yolks seeping from the fissures. 

They must have been two days old.

You cough in your sleep and I start. I lean across and kiss your lips, tasting the saltiness of cum.

What scared me was that the swiftlets came back again and rebuilt their nests. They returned as if they didn't see the carnage on the ground, their would-have-been chicks dead. 

My grandmother called it 'tenacity'. I thought otherwise. 

Plain stupid. They might as well give up and go away.

But they didn't.

You are strong, do you know that? You are delicate but you are steel too. Like the swiftlets. Maybe Nature made you that way. But I still love that spirit in you.

I snuggle up against you, feeling the thudthudthud of your heart in your chest. It will be 0800 hours soon. Another day in another week.

Your eyelids flutter. You will soon awake. I nuzzle your neck, knowing that we will become, not lovers, but uniformed officers.

My swiftlet. You will be awake and smiling with your beautiful face. 

I swear that I will watch over you, my swiftlet. 

My Chakotay.