No Regrets - Part 6
by T'Pam

Please see part 1 for disclaimer, codes, summary, etc.


*Chakotay's POV*

There's no answer when I buzz Tom's quarters. I know he's in
there. I've already checked with the computer. I buzz once
more. "Tom, it's me... Chakotay. I really need to talk to

Why won't he answer? I know he's embarrassed, but I'm
beginning to worry. "Tom, please let me in."

I wait for a few moments and then buzz again. Still nothing.
My worry sharpens. Underneath Tom's carefree, cool demeanor
is a very vulnerable and volatile man.

Has his mistaken embarrassment caused him to do something
foolish? Without further hesitation I override his lock out
codes and hurry inside. There's no sign of Tom, but the
computer insists he's in here.

Searching frantically around the room for a body lying
somewhere, it suddenly hits me that there's water running in
the bathroom. A story I once read about a woman who'd been
so badly humiliated she could no longer face the world,
plays in my mind. She'd slashed her wrists while in the

Panicking completely, I hurry into the bathroom pulling open
the shower stall without another thought. My heart pounding
with dread, I peer through the steam and then gasp at the
sight before me.

Tom gives a yelp of surprise. "What the fuck?"

"Spirits, Tom, I'm sorry."

He turns a bright and fiery red and I'm completely frozen to
the spot. I can't move. I can't even think.

Tom suddenly howls in agony as the shampoo that's been
cascading down his face suddenly runs into his eyes.

His cry breaks my stupor and I back away and hand him a
towel. He rubs furiously at his eyes and I take advantage of
the fact that he can't see to continue to stare at the
wonderful body before me.

He stumbles from the shower, the towel still to his eyes and
I quickly step out of the way.

"What the hell are you doing, Chakotay?" he mumbles into the
towel. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm sorry," I say again. "You wouldn't answer when I buzzed
and I panicked. The Doctor told me how upset you were and I
thought you'd done something to yourself."

Tom bites his lip but doesn't say anything. Dropping the
towel from his face he grabs another one and wraps it around
his waist. His head stays down, his eyes on the floor.

"Excuse me, I need to get dressed," he says quietly.

"Of course," I say hastily, mortified that I'm still eyeing
his body hungrily. All he has to do is look up and he'll

He doesn't look up and somehow I manage to turn away. A
slight rustling behind me alerts me that he's dressing. I
close my eyes as I imagine him standing there naked, pulling
a t-shirt over those surprisingly broad, muscled shoulders
and rolling it down to cover that taut hairy chest.

I can still remember the way my hands ran through those
hairs, the feel of them between my fingers.

I can now imagine him thrusting one firm, muscular leg and
then the other into his pants. Gliding the fabric up and
over first one calf and then the other. Now the pants are
sliding over his thighs.

I remember the soft, pliant skin of his buttocks as I kneaded
them in time with each thrust of my groin against his. It
felt so good.

I'm hard as a rock as I remember that glorious body
displayed before me moments ago. Almost whimpering, I
picture his penis, nestled amongst those golden hairs. The
penis I'd been staring at, transfixed, only minutes ago.

Tom clears his throat from behind me, shattering my train of
thought. "I can guess why you're here. What you're going to
say. But, Commander, I'd really rather not talk about it at
the moment. I think I need a little time to get over it. I
just want to apologize. I can imagine what you must think of

I turn around quickly, my fantasy forgotten. "No, Tom.
That's why I had to come and see you. You've got it all
wrong. I forgot about your claustrophobia. When you started
panicking in the lift, I didn't realize what was wrong. You
were... er... wriggling against me."

"Chakotay... please! I really don't want to talk about it.
I don't want all the vivid details. I've said I'm sorry;
you'll never know how sorry I am."

"Tom..." I start to say, but the doors swish open and Harry
walks in unannounced.

"Hi," he says and then turns red as he sees me. "I'm sorry,
Commander, I didn't mean to interrupt. I can come back

"No," Tom says hurriedly. "The Commander was just leaving.
Weren't you? I mean... everything's settled now."

There's definite panic in his voice and Harry looks at him

"Actually, Harry, I'd really like to talk to Tom alone," I
say. I'm determined to make my confession.

"I don't think now is a good time," Harry says, much to my
surprise. "Tom looks tired."

I'm flabbergasted as he takes my arm and leads me from the
room. I find myself ejected into the corridor as Harry turns
back to Tom.

The doors swish closed before me as I hear Harry say, "What
did that bastard do, Tom? You've been crying."

I open and shut my mouth. Crying? Of course; Tom's
red-rimmed eyes. But that was from the shampoo. He hadn't
been crying. I hadn't made him cry.

I seethe at the unfairness of the accusation. And he called
me a bastard! Little Ensign Harry Kim - Mr. Protocol himself
- had called me a bastard. To my face. Well, almost.

Of course, that's exactly what I am, but Harry doesn't know
that. I picture sending him down to ship's maintenance for a
few weeks and all the dirty jobs I can have assigned to him.
I feel slightly mollified.

I focus on the door once more. I'll come back later after
Harry's gone, and make my confession once and for all. I'll
*make* Tom listen to me.

Committed to my decision, I spend the rest of the afternoon
and evening in my quarters, rehearsing exactly what I'm going
to say.

Later that night, I head once more for Tom's quarters. He's
still not alone. B'Elanna is with him, and from the sounds
coming from inside, I don't think it would be a good idea to
disturb them. At least I now know that whatever he thinks
happened in the lift, it hasn't affected his libido.

The thought does nothing to ease my conscience, however. I
feel more depressed than I can remember feeling for a long
time as I make my way back to my quarters and a restless
night's sleep.


*Tom's POV*

"Kahless, Tom. I feel like I'm doing all the work here,"
B'Elanna growls, leaning forward and biting my neck.


She licks the blood from my wound and chuckles huskily.
"Don't be a baby. You love it."

"What gives you that idea?" I grumble.

She sits back up and then grinds her hips down... hard. I
groan and she laughs and does it again. I involuntarily
begin thrusting up into her moist depths and she moans.
"That's more like it."

I want to put my hands on her hips to control the wild ride
I know she'll start at any moment now, but I can't. She's
holding my hands tightly in her own, using them to brace

Her movements are faster now. "Harder," she screams at me.
She loses control and starts squirming painfully over me, her
vagina like a huge vice around my erection. Finally, she
stops and then starts pounding furiously up and down, her
body slamming onto mine. I can feel a new bruise on my hips
each time she lands.

She squeezes my fingers so tightly that I'm sure she's broken
at least two of them before letting them go to grasp the
hairs on my chest instead. Yanking at them until my chest
is stinging and burning, she presses both hands down on one
of my shoulders as she begins to spasm and jerk.

Screaming as she continues her orgasm, she grabs one of my
nipples between her fingers and pinches it - hard - in time
with each wave of her climax. I find myself screaming in
tandem. She's going to rip my nipple clean off this time.

Finally, the contractions around my penis ease and she rolls
to her side taking me with her, wrapping her legs around my
hips. "Your turn," she whispers.

I thrust into her gently and she tightens her legs around my
hips. I thrust again and this time she wriggles her hips
against me. "Harder," she whispers. But I don't want to. I
want to be gentle. I don't want to be rough.

It's always rough with B'Elanna. My nipple feels like it's
on fire and my neck is still throbbing from her bite. I like
rough sex, but I also like gentle, loving sex sometimes too.

B'Elanna doesn't understand that. To her, if you're not
screaming in pain and bleeding all over the place then you're
just not enjoying yourself.

She rolls over again, pulling me with her, until she's
completely under me. "Now fuck me," she says. "Hard."

She scratches my back, drawing blood, as I continue to thrust
gently into her. "What the hell is the matter with you?" she
snarls. "I won't break, you know."

"Trust me," I whisper in her ear. "Let me show you how good
this can be too."

She sighs as I nibble on her ear. "I know how good it can
be. Now speed it up, helmboy."

She arches up against me, and the muscles in her vagina grip
once more. I'm being held in a vice again.

"Arggggh!" I yell.

She laughs silkily. "That's better." Her teeth sink into
my shoulder so hard that I think I'm going to pass out. "Now
start pumping."

I do as she says and pound into her furiously. I'm furious
with myself for giving into her demands and I'm furious with
her for always wanting it like this. Why does it always have
to be like this?

She grips my shoulder as she screams and comes once more.
Her fingers dig into the wound on my shoulder and I scream in
agony as I continue to thrust as hard as I can into her.

Normally her contractions are enough to set me off too, but
not tonight. Definitely not tonight. I don't even feel
close to coming.

As soon as her climax finishes I stop my furious pumping and
wait for her muscles to relax enough to let me withdraw.

She looks up at me, her face full of concern. "Tom? Is
something wrong?"

I bite my lip. "I don't know," I say honestly. Her grip
loosens and I slide out of her easily.

Rolling off of her and onto my back, I put my arm up over my
face. I feel all choked up for some reason.

"Tom, what is it? Did I hurt you?"

'No more than usual,' I want to say, but there's a tightness
in my chest and throat and tears are starting to prick at the
corners of my eyes.

"Kahless, I did hurt you," she says, her voice full of
remorse. She starts to kiss and lick at the wound on my
shoulder and then my neck. But it's not that.

The wounds do throb and my nipple still feels like it's on
fire, but that's not what's wrong. She's hurt me a lot worse
than this many times before and it's never bothered me.

I don't know why, but I feel really upset. I didn't want it
to be rough. I wanted it to be smooth and gentle. I wanted
it to be velvet upon wet velvet. All I know is that I didn't
want it to be like this.

To be continued in part 7.