The Shattering of the Mask 33
By Morticia

See part 1 for disclaimer

Chakotay shuffled uncomfortably under the Vulcan's expressionless gaze. He appreciated Tuvok agreeing to see him in his own
time and quarters but he couldn't shake the belief that Tuvok secretly still bore a deep distrust of him.

The fact that Tom had been so distracted at the helm all day hadn't endeared Chakotay to Tuvok either. From the moment that
Chakotay had resumed his seat on Alpha shift, the pilot had slowly gone to pieces, making a series of fortunately minor errors
as his fingers slipped awkwardly over his console, as if the proximity of Chakotay to his exposed back seemed to reawaken all
his recently buried insecurities.

How the hell could Chakotay convince Tuvok that he was the person who could restore Tom to confidence, when it was
patently obvious to everyone that Tom was too shit scared of him to even sit with his back towards him?

"Human relationships are frequently unhealthy for at least one of the partners," Tuvok told him. "It is rare to find a couple who
have reached true equality and trust. For Vulcans it is different. The Farr, the joining, of two mates enables us to know each
other's thoughts so there is no dishonesty between us. This is why I cannot help you, Commander. The problem that you face is
your inability to prove to Mr. Paris that you wish him no harm, and his understandable inability to trust you.

"Thus I cannot truly empathize with your position, but I do understand it. I have looked into your mind, Commander, have seen
into your heart, and although I may appear to still distrust you, it is not true. Mr. Paris has not seen your heart. He cannot be
expected to trust you, despite his obvious wish that he could do so."

"I know," Chakotay said quietly. "He wants to but he can't."

"It was my understanding that you were dining with him tonight," Tuvok said. "Have today's events on the bridge caused him to
change his mind?"

Chakotay flushed. The way Tom had reacted to his presence must have made the whole bridge crew doubt that the dinner
invitation still stood. Harry's look of pure furious disgust at Chakotay, as he had followed Tom's flight off the bridge the second
the shift was over, hadn't helped, either.

"No, he already had arranged to play pool with Harry first. We're having a late supper together when he has finished. He sent a
message to my terminal to confirm the time," Chakotay replied.

The fact that Tom had sent him a message rather than comming him only helped to confirm the fact that Tom was feeling
uncomfortable with him, and he saw Tuvok's left eyebrow quirk a fraction as he digested that fact.

"So," Tuvok said eventually, steepling his fingers in thought, "what is it that you want from me?"

"I wondered whether it was possible for you to mind-meld with me *and* Tom, together," Chakotay confessed.

"It is possible," Tuvok agreed, "but I will not do it."

"Why the hell not? You just told me the problem is that Tom can't trust me. This way he can see into my heart."

"Are you sure that he will like what he finds?" Tuvok asked.

Chakotay swayed in his chair.  "Now you wait a damned minute," he hissed. "You just told me that you had looked into my
mind and you trusted me, and now you are saying that Tom can't?"

"What I *said*," Tuvok corrected, "was that Mr. Paris may not like what he finds inside  you. You are not the person that he
believed you to be. You have acknowledged that. The real Chakotay is a blend of both personas. The real Chakotay may not
be a person that Mr. Paris wishes to be intimate with."

"I'll take that risk. This isn't about me and what I want. It's about Tom and what he needs, and what he needs more than
anything is to feel safe."

"Self-deception is rarely a wise choice, Commander. You may be able to convince yourself that your motives are purely
altruistic, but you don't fool me and if you link with Tom he will see through you too," Tuvok replied bluntly. "This continual
self-effacing penitence may be helping you to reconcile your own guilt, but it is no more the real Chakotay than your actions
when you were ill. You don't remember what you did. At some level you still do not even believe that you did it. Your guilt is
laced with a large dose of understandable self-pity. Every time you see Tom react to you with fear, your guilt is balanced by an
equal dose of resentment.

"You are being punished for things that you can't even believe you did, let alone remember. You are angry and resentful. You
feel as much self-pity as you do guilt," Tuvok stated. "This is not a criticism, Commander. Your feelings are natural and
inevitable. No one can blindly accept punishment that they do not truly believe they deserve, and although your mind accepts
intellectually that you hurt Tom, your heart and memory do not really believe it because your behaviour was so alien to the
person you know yourself to be."

"You're saying that I am harboring feelings of anger and resentment towards Tom?" Chakotay demanded.

"It is a logical assumption."

"And so if Tom mind-linked with me he would see that anger, so it would do as much harm as good?"

"At this stage, yes. You need to reconcile your own emotions before you even contemplate sharing them with Mr. Paris."

"Am I dangerous, Tuvok? Am I really that person who hurt Tom?"

"In a way. The Vulcan term is Ni’var,” Tuvok told him. “It represents the duality of all things, the two halves that make a unity.
As you yourself have already realised, nothing that happened when you were ill was done by a separate entity. You were  not
possessed or controlled by an external force. All of your cruelty came from inside where your dark emotions live.”

"It is understandable that you are frightened of expressing any negative opinions or reactions because of your fear of that dark
side of your personality. It is also ultimately self-defeating. It is in that side of your duality that much of your strength lies. Your
decisive nature, your natural aura of command, your strong personal beliefs and your ability to perform under duress all draw on
that side of your personality. The other side of your duality, the caring, spiritual persona balances those strengths.

"Without recourse to your darker emotions, you cannot effectively function. Let me make an example. A child is being attacked.
You can save the child by confronting the attacker. The motivation to interfere comes from one side of your Ni'var, the ability to
interfere comes from the other. Mr. Kim calls it Yin and Yang. I believe your own people embrace the same idea,

"Ahsonnutli," Chakotay confirmed absently. "He's a bisexual being, a hemaphrodite, who blends the strength of a man with the
wisdom of a woman."

Tuvok nodded. "Precisely. Whatever race or culture you encounter, you will find the same basic understanding that a person
who does not balance both sides of their personality is just half a person."

"Look, Tuvok. I understand what you're saying, and I agree that there are some things I need to get out of my system, some
petty resentments that I need to deal with. Even so, it's a bit self-indulgent under the circumstances, don't you think? My own
minor resentments are pretty insignificant in comparison."

"If they are so insignificant, why have you felt unable to raise them, Commander?

"I haven't. I just don't think they need to be said. Tom's got enough to deal with already. Asking him would just cause more
harm than good.

"Asking him what?" Tuvok asked.


"Why?" Chakotay demanded and then quivered slightly. It had seemed so much easier to say it to Tuvok. Now, with Tom's
pale and frightened face in front of him, he cursed the Vulcan for convincing him to do this.  Poor Tom had invited him over to
supper. He was a guest in Tom's quarters, eating Tom's food. It was unforgivable to repay Tom's trust in this way.

"So, I guess this means no more Mr. Nice Guy, huh?" Tom quipped lightly, placing his cup down on the table with slightly
shaking hands.

"I'm waiting for an answer," Chakotay reminded him as Tom stared desperately into his half-empty plate as though hoping for
find the answer there.

"Fuck off, Chakotay. You're not my dad and at 2030 hours, in my own quarters, you aren't the First Officer either. Either
change the subject or fuck off home," Tom spat defiantly.

"I want to know why, Tom. Why didn't you report me?" Chakotay repeated.

Tom's head jerked up and his frightened blue eyes met Chakotay's in disbelief, then he ducked his gaze once more, unable to
maintain eye contact with the older man.

"I can't believe you're doing this. Get out. Get the fuck out of my room or I'll call security," he whispered.

"Why didn't you call security *then*, Tom?" Chakotay growled. "Why the fuck did you let it happen?"

Tom's mouth gaped open in disbelief and he finally raised wide, bewildered eyes to look at Chakotay's angry face. His stomach
churned viciously as his whole body began to shake in fear.

"Don't ... don't yell at me," he pleaded weakly. His eyes tracked nervously between the table and the door as he clearly started
to calculate the distance he would have to run if Chakotay lunged for him.

His fear only stoked Chakotay's anger further.

"Stop looking for an escape route, Tom and answer the fucking question," he snarled.

Tom took a torturous breath and tried to plaster an unconvincing smile on his obviously terrified face.

"Look, I'm sorry okay. I've pissed you off. I can see that. I don't know what I've done, but I'm sorry, okay? I'm really sorry.
Now, can I leave?"

"We're in *your* quarters," Chakotay reminded him dryly.

Tom's tongue flicked out to wet his lips.

"Then can *you* leave?" he begged.

"Not until I've told you *why* I'm pissed with you, Tom," Chakotay growled.

Tom closed his eyes in resignation.

"Why are you pissed with me," he asked fearfully.

"I'll tell you why.  Because you *let* me do it to you. You just rolled over and took it, didn't you? You could have stood up to
me, reported me. I would have been arrested, The Doc would have discovered my illness, I would have been cured before I
ever laid a finger on you. I wouldn't have had to spend the rest of my life looking in the mirror and seeing a monster," Chakotay

Tom's eyes had flown open in shock half way through Chakotay's accusation and by the time the older man stopped talking,
Tom was swaying so drunkenly  that Chakotay thought he might literally faint. Tom's mouth worked silently, opening and closing
as though each time he thought of a reply it disintegrated in his own throat.

Then something sparked in Tom's eyes, red blazed on his pale cheeks, and this time when he opened his mouth, his words
emerged in a near scream.

"You bastard," Tom yelled, his face continuing to flush with rage. "You saying that it was all *my* fault?"

"No, no," Chakotay started appeasingly, that hadn't been the way he had meant it to come out. It hadn't been the way it had
come out to Tuvok. Then he  stopped and reconsidered. "Yeah, in a way, I think I am. You could have stopped me. You
*should* have stopped me."

"Seems like you are forgetting your little buddies at Auckland, Chakotay. As I recall I had eleven months of their cocks up my
ass before I even met your other buddies on Voyager. By the time you made your move on me I was so used to getting raped
that the word no had kind of slipped out of my vocabulary," Tom spat defensively.

"Bullshit," Chakotay snarled. "I admit you had no choice about Auckland or the first few months on Voyager. But then it
changed. You built a life. You made friends. Learnt some self-respect. It took me five years to move on you. Five years in
which you should have put the bad stuff behind you and grown some balls. When I approached you that day in Sickbay and
told you I had set Dalby up to rape you, you should have had my ass thrown in the Brig, and you know it."

"I was too fucking scared, you bastard," Tom howled.

"Yeah, you spend a lot of time being scared, Tom. Don't you think it's about time you grew some balls? Why don't you try
being a man for a change, Paris?"

Chakotay barely saw Tom move. The younger man was around the table in a blur of motion that would have caught anyone else
by surprise. Chakotay had spent too many years boxing to let the other guy get in the first blow though. He had plenty of time to
evade Tom's punch.

He simply chose not to.

He almost regretted it when he heard Tom's knuckles snap against his jaw. The stupid bastard had *no* idea of how to fight.
He should have gone for the nose, the cheek even. Instead he had just broken his knuckles on Chakotay's rock hard jaw. It
took all of Chakotay's acting ability to convincingly collapse back onto the floor as though felled by the blow, and it was more
by luck than judgment that Tom landed on top of him, his face creased with the pain from his split knuckles.

"Your hand okay, honey?" Chakotay asked as Tom groaned in pain, then he groaned himself as he realised he had given himself

"You bastard," Tom whispered into Chakotay's neck. "You wound me up on purpose, didn't you?"

"Yeah, well you seemed to find your balls at least," Chakotay chuckled, and to his relief Tom gave a hesitant laugh.

They lay like that for a few moments, Chakotay too aware of the way that their bodies were pressed together, from their
heaving chests right down to their shaking knees. His own cock was so hard it was painfully grinding against his pants legs.
Fortunately it seemed to have met a friend down there judging from the pressure that was grinding against his own hip.

He gently stroked Tom's back, relieved to feel the muscles unknotting under his soothing fingers.

"Do you really think I was a coward to let you do it?" Tom asked worriedly, returning to the subject matter of the original

Chakotay cradled Tom's face between his hands and met his eyes so that Tom could see the sincerity in his own.

"I think that if you had defied me, you wouldn't have lived long enough to regret it. You did what you needed to do to survive,
that's all. It's all very good for heroes of novels and vids to decide that death is better than dishonor, Tom, but all it means in real
life is that you're a long time dead without even a chance of a happy ever after.  Sometimes we make choices and we have to
live with them, but that's better than giving up and taking the easy option.

"When I decided to kill myself, I told myself it was the noble thing to do. It wasn't. It was cowardice. It was my way of trying to
run away from the consequences of my actions. You didn't do that, Tom. You could have chosen death too. You could have
avoided all the pain. You were braver than me. You decided to face it and try and survive it. I respect that, Tom, and I respect

"Really?" Tom asked in a small, hopeful voice.

"What you went through in Auckland, what *I* put you through, I couldn't have survived it. It would have killed me. You
survive everything. Your whole life has been one fucking nightmare after another and somehow you find the strength and the
hope to get out of bed the next day and face whatever new shit is coming your way.

"That's why I can't bear to see you flinch from me, Tom. Not just because I love you and I hate the idea of your fear. I can't
bear it because it's a lie. People look at us both and see me as the strong one and you as being weak. That is the greatest lie of
all. You're *my* hero, Tom Paris. When I grow up I want to be just like you."

From anyone else the words might have seemed flippant or mocking. From Chakotay they were simply no more or less than the

Tom looked at him silently for a long time, his blue eyes sparkling with unshed tears.

"You mean that, don't you?" he finally whispered. "You honest to God really mean that! All this time you've been saying you
loved me, but all I heard was that you pitied me. I never really understood what you were trying to say. You *do* love me."

"I do," Chakotay promised softly.

Tom sighed happily and rested his head trustingly on the older man's chest. The gesture, so small yet significant, allowed
Chakotay to dare hope for the first time. Yet, as the minutes passed without any further words from the pilot, Chakotay began
to feel worried once more. This time it was a personal, almost selfish fear, that now Tom felt less physically intimidated by him
he would no longer need Chakotay's love.

"What about you, Tom? How do you feel about me?" Chakotay asked cautiously.

Tom shrugged his shoulders and gave a peal of laughter that rippled like a spring breeze across Chakotay's chest.

"Oh, it's just lust for me. I just fell in love with your cock," he joked.

Chakotay bit his lower lip and Tom stiffened in contrition, sure that his flippant response, intended to break the mood of
instrospection, had instead hurt the older man.

"Does that mean you don't like my ass?" Chakotay asked sadly. "Only I was hoping you might like that too."

Tom's mouth gaped open in surprise. He ran his tongue tentatively over his full lower lip in a sensuous movement that caused
Chakotay's aforementioned cock leap up in an eager salute.

Tom shook his head.

"It's okay Chakotay, I *like* being the bottom in this relationship. I know you don't understand it, but I really get off on your
cock. When you are in me I feel, hell, I feel...shit, I don't know, all I know is that when you aren't there any more I'm empty,
like a shell. You make me feel complete."

For a moment, Chakotay was too choked to reply, he settled for squeezing Tom's fingers gently while he marshaled his

"Don't you think that's kind of selfish, Tom?" he asked finally. He nearly laughed at the comically look of complete bewilderment
on Tom's face. "Maybe *I* want to feel complete too. Why should you always get the best position?"

"Um, the first time kind of hurts, Chakotay and you're not getting any younger, are you? " Tom replied hesitantly.

"You saying I'm too old to fuck?" Chakotay asked, in mock annoyance.

"No I'm saying that your too old to get fucked up the ass for the first time without walking like a Borg tomorrow."

"That's okay. If you know I can't move without groaning, you might stop jumping around on the helm like a demented rabbit,"
Chakotay replied with a teasing smile.

"A demented WHAT?"

"Are we going to argue all night or are you going to fuck me, Tom? Because If I lie on this floor for much longer, I'm going to be
too stiff to walk tomorrow whether you fuck me or not."

"Stiff. That's a nice word. I like that word," Tom smirked.

"Are you going to fucking do it, or what?"

"My, my, my. I'm going to have to punch you more often, Chak. Concussion agrees with you," Tom purred as he helped
Chakotay to his feet and led him to the bedroom.


“What is it?” Chakotay asked.

Tom had seemed completely, and surprisingly, at ease as they had stripped together and tumbled into Tom's bed. They had
kissed and hugged, their arms roaming each other's bodies as though discovering them for the first time, and there had been no
mistaking the message of Tom's weeping erection.

Yet, as soon as Chakotay had fumbled inside Tom's bedside drawer and then presented the lube to him with a flourish, Tom
had stiffened and pulled away from him, his face troubled. It wasn't an expression of fear, more one of concern, so Chakotay
forced himself not to panic. He stilled on the bed in an attitude of submission, then changed his mind, sat up and took Tom
gently but firmly into a rough embrace.

Only when he felt Tom's rigid body begin to relax once more did Chakotay attempt to find out what had gone wrong.

Tom ducked his head in embarrassment, only for Chakotay to place a gentle finger under his chin and force him to meet his

“Talk to me?” he pleaded.

For a moment he thought Tom would bristle and refuse, but then a sheepish smile crept over the younger man’s face and
although he blushed, he answered.

“You know what you told me? About being a…um…a virgin? Well, I’m kind of one too when it comes to this. I mean I’ve
never …um….never done it with a man like this,” he explained.

“You mean you’ve never been on top?” Chakotay asked gently.

Tom attempted a nonchalant shrug. “Yeah, that’s me, never the fucker, only the fuckee,” he quipped, but a shadow of his old
fear flickered deep within his eyes as he said it.

Chakotay didn’t really want to ask the next question, but his conscience forced him to do it.

“And how many times have you voluntarily been the “fuckee” Tom?”

“Once,” Tom whispered.


“The night we, were..when I was…oh hell, you know when I mean,” Tom blurted.

"The night I was restrained?" Chakotay asked, gently.

Tom bit his lower lip and nodded, his eyes brimming with the threat of tears.

"Would you prefer it if ..."

"NO," Tom shouted, then he flushed with fresh embarrassment. "No," he repeated more quietly. "I want us to make love," he
whispered, "like real people do, only I don't know what to do."

"There aren't any rules about this, Tom. What do you *want* to do?"

Tom hesitated, his face going a little blank as he considered his options. Then a small smile crept back over his face.

"I want to fuck you," he admitted.

"Good," Chakotay grinned, then he turned over onto his front before Tom saw the fear that he was sure would be evident in his
eyes. He pulled one of the pillows down and slid it under his own hips, knowing it would make it easier for both of them in that
position, and then he reminded himself fiercely that he trusted Tom not to hurt him.

He felt Tom straddle his legs, bending down until his chest was lying tightly against his spine, and he momentarily wondered
whether it was even possible for Tom to penetrate him from such a position.

To his surprise, Tom simply nuzzled him between his shoulder blades and then began a slow investigation of the back of his
neck with his tongue. Despite his inner-tension, Chakotay felt it impossible to concentrate on the vulnerable position of his ass as
Tom busied himself proving conclusively that the nape of Chakotay's neck was an erogenous zone.

As Tom worked his eager tongue in long lazy swirls, gradually traveling further down Chakotay's prone form, his hands
incessantly stroking Chakotay's rib cage in motions that booth soothed and excited the older man,  his cock left its own snail's
trail down Chakotay's lower back.

Chakotay hissed in a combination of surprise and pleasure as Tom finally reached his ass and proceeded to give it the same wet
attention with his mouth.

“Spirits, Tom. That feels so good,” Chakotay moaned.

 “Yeah, well it kind of puts an interesting slant on the phrase ‘kiss my ass’, doesn’t it?” Tom sniggered.

“Huh?” Chakotay asked, too lost in the myriad of tiny nerve-searing sensations that Tom was creating in his body to have heard
Tom's words.

 “Never mind,”  Tom mumbled as he nuzzled his face against the firm flesh of Chakotay’s muscular ass, using his tongue to
lovingly swirl one letter after another. Then he stared at the rapidly drying saliva with disappointment, and started again, this time
making the letters thicker and wetter.

"What are you doing?” Chakotay gasped, as he squirmed under Tom’s attentions.

“Writing my name on your butt,” Tom admitted, “with my tongue.”

“WHAT?” Chakotay roared, only the sound was laughter rather than irritation, a deep belly deep guffaw of pure delight. “Your
*whole* name?”

“Nah, I tried that but your ass is too small. The ‘T’ dries out before I get to the ‘S’, so I decided to stick to ‘TOM’,” Tom
replied. “Guess where the ‘O’ fits?”

Chakotay lay there stunned. He had envisaged this moment many times, the moment that Tom finally took him. He had imagined
Tom either fearful or angry, perhaps vengeful, definitely in tears. He had never once imagined that Tom would be playful.

“Fuckit. It’s disappeared again,” Tom moaned as the silvery writing dried and evaporated from Chakotay’s slightly quivering
cheeks. He reached for the long-forgotten lube and found inspiration.

“Ahhhh,” Chakotay gasped in shock as the cold gel touched his skin. He felt Tom tracing the path that his tongue had taken
earlier, using the nozzle of the tube like a pen.

“You going to just play with that, Tom?” Chakotay finally asked.

Tom’s eyes narrowed in annoyance and he deliberately squirted the remains of the tube against Chakotay’s anus.  Chakotay
yelped and almost dislodged Tom in shock.

“Oh, was that cold?” Tom asked in mock contrition.

“Bastard,” Chakotay growled.

“Want me to rub the cold spot? Warm it up?” Tom crooned, scrambling back up Chakotay's body and flicking his tongue out
to lick at the skin behind Chakotay’s ear, even as he slipped a digit into the mound of gel and rubbed gently at the buried

For a moment, Chakotay tensed in fear, his whole body rigid as his buttocks clenched involuntary to repel the gentle invasion.
Then, Tom licked the nape of his neck, deliberately tantalizing his new found sensitivity there, and Chakotay shivered so
violently in reaction that Tom managed to slip a finger inside him before he stopped shaking.

“You okay with this,” Tom asked, hearing the way that Chakotay was straining to breath normally.

Chakotay wanted to say no. He felt vulnerable, uncomfortable and  invaded. Before he could put his objection into words, Tom
curled his finger and probed carefully. Chakotay felt something akin to a lightning bolt ripping through his groin and he arched his
back in response, inadvertently drawing Tom deeper inside him.

“What are you doing? What *was* that?” he gasped.

“That, Commander, is your prostate,” Tom replied, in a fair imitation of the Doctor’s voice. He stroked it again for emphasis,
enjoying the way Chakotay jerked in response. He took advantage of Chakotay’s momentary distraction to slip a second finger

Chakotay felt so tight and hot around his fingers that Tom wondered whether his cock could survive being crushed in its
furnace. His cock wasn’t listening. It was  game for a risk.  It bobbed expectantly, dribbling with excitement, proudly saluting its
intention to do or die.