I have been seduced by the Dark Side.
I blame this on a multitude of people, most of which belong to the CPSG.
This is NOT your usual Becca O fare, nor is it J/C.
Rated NC-17 for M/M sex, so if you're underage pretend you haven't seen this.
Characters owned in their entirety by Paramount, and I know for a fact they'd NEVER let them do the things I write.

"Paris Island" by Becca O.

*Damned energy rations* Paris thought, sipping yet another fruity concoction through an umbrella straw.

It had been months since Voyager had passed close enough to a suitable source of replacement trinerium and the Captain had been forced to impose limitations on the use of the holodecks. In all fairness to the rest of the crew, a rotation schedule of holoprograms was set in place, allowing programs to run only a few times before denying further access to the crew.

The program currently running was "Neelix-luau-alpha-7". Paris could've sworn this program had overused its time allotment, but hey-- who was he to question the Captain's judgment?

Glancing toward the raucous laughter emanating from the poolside bar, Tom shuddered inwardly. A Talaxian in Bermuda shorts and a tank top was not a pretty sight. Oh, there were plenty of pretty sights wandering about, but none of them seemed to hold his interest for very long. That is until now...

A whoosh of hydraulics swept the doors aside just long enough to grant entry to Chakotay, Voyager's second in command.

Tom was suddenly grateful for the sunglasses Neelix had foisted upon him earlier. It certainly made it easier to keep surreptitious tabs on the Commander. *Looking good, Chakotay* he thought but said instead, "Commander--out for a little R & R?"

"You know what they say about 'all work and no play' Paris." Chakotay chose that moment to strip to his swim trunks before stretching out on the lounge chair right next to Tom's.

*Shit.* Paris' own suit felt suddenly three sizes too small. He thought about retreating to the beach and the safety of the water, except in his condition he wasn't all too sure that he could stand erect. *Erect?* Poor choice of words. Tom shifted uncomfortably and hoped the Commander wouldn't notice.

* * * *

Tom thought back to the first time he had encountered Chakotay. Weeks aboard the cramped, ill-equipped Maquis ship had left him leaner than he should have been; his gaunt face had borne the weight of the battles he had seen. Many nights he lay in his bunk wondering -- no, let's face it, fantasizing-- how Chakotay might have appeared had they met under different circumstances.

His capture and subsequent arrest dashed any hopes he might have harbored toward furthering their acquaintance.

Turning an appraising eye toward his commanding officer, he noted with pleasure that Chakotay had filled out rather nicely since their voyage in the Delta Quadrant had begun. Damned if he could figure out why the Captain had failed to take advantage of the opportunity to get closer to Chakotay. He was just glad that the Commander's animosity toward him seemed to have cooled in the recent months.

Shielded behind the protective facade of his eyewear, Tom continued his assessment of Chakotay. Bronze skin glistened in the holographic sun, a fine sheen of sweat adding to the sparkle. He watched Chakotay shift to a more comfortable position, thinking that he most definitely would have pegged the Commander as a "boxers" type of man; certainly not the type to wear the minuscule suit he had seemingly poured himself into.

*Damn* Paris swore to himself as he stood on suddenly unsteady feet. *I either leave now or prove myself to be the lecher everyone already thinks I am.*

"Leaving so soon, Paris?" Chakotay chuckled. "I was hoping to win back some of what you stole from me in our last pool game."

"Stole from you?! I won that fair and square--" Tom broke off, realizing he had fallen for one of Chakotay's tactics yet again. "All right, what did you have in mind this time?"

"A race."

"A what?"

"You heard me. A race. To the island."

Tom opened his mouth to protest, but was stopped short by Chakotay's wicked grin.

"Don't ask me *what island?*, Paris. The one you added to this program without authorization. The one I just might have to report to--"

"You're on."

"I thought so." Chuckling softly, Chakotay stood, stretched and sprinted towards the shoreline.

* * * *

Chakotay collapsed in the shallow surf, several lengths ahead of Tom. The race had been a desperate effort to work off some of the heat Tom had been projecting in his direction. His breathing had almost returned to normal when he heard the conn officer sputter and gasp, dragging himself out of the waves.

Damn he was good looking, in a drenched puppy sort of way. Chakotay grinned and decided *what the hell.*

Rolling onto his side, he reached out to Tom, brushing the sand from his face. The feel of Tom's skin beneath his fingers was electric. Instinct alone kept his fingers following the lines of Tom's face, finally tracing the outline of his lips and eliciting a strangled groan from the younger man.

It was the most blatantly erotic sound he'd ever heard.

Partially covering Tom's body with his own, he caught the next sounds with his mouth, his lips moving over Tom's with a gentle intensity. Insinuating a leg between Tom's, he felt Tom's erection pulsing against his thigh. As if in primal answer, his own penis responded in kind, instinctively seeking relief.

* * * *

The two men rocked against each other, content for the moment to enjoy the warmth of another's body against their own. Tongues tangling together, they kissed and tasted and touched for what seemed an eternity.

Waves washing over them, they stripped off their suits pausing only long enough to regard each other in frank admiration. Each reached for the other, a large tanned hand wrapping itself around a fair blond-enshrouded penis while a slender, fair hand found its darker counterpart. The rhythm of the waves kept time with the rhythm of hands; slow steady strokes that gave way to breathless anticipation. The pulsing began in the base of their balls. The sounds of the wind faded away and they erupted against each other in satisfied completion.

* * * *

"Damn, Paris. You've been holding out on me."

"Me?! Who knew what lurked beneath the warrior's stoic facade." Paris chuckled, rolling onto his back and pulling Chakotay onto his shoulder. The two remained that way for some time; the holographic sun drying the salt and sand to their skin.

Paris was the first to break the silence.

"So, Chakotay.... you going to put me on report?"

"For what?" Chakotay asked, raising himself up on an elbow and brushing Tom's hair off his face. "Fraternization?"

"Nah. For altering Neelix's holoprogram."

"I won't tell if you don't tell. Besides, I kind of like it here. And I did win the race," he added smugly.

With that, Tom rolled him over onto his back, straddled his knees and grinned. "You like competition Chakotay?"

Chakotay propped himself on his elbows, and watched as Tom's face dipped closer and closer to his stiffening erection. As Tom's mouth closed over him and rational thought fled, he thought heard something that sounded like *I win.*


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