"A little further up," Trip commented. "I think there's a plateau." He brought his canteen to his lips and took a quick sip.

Jonathan nodded as he came to rest beside Trip. He wiped his forehead with his sleeve, a little short of breath from the climb. It was probably the altitude, he thought. He noted with chagrin that his lover wasn't fazed at all from the exertion. The man had clambered up the rocky slope with the sureness of a mountain goat, and all he showed for it was a damp, glowing sheen to his skin. As he and Trip took a quick breather, he thought of how Trip's skin would feel under his hands; it would be slick and wet. And warm. Trip's skin was always so warm to the touch. He imagined Trip in his arms, remembering the feel of Trip's muscles flexing as he writhed in ecstasy.

"You with me here, Cap'n?" Trip asked, nudging Jonathan with his elbow as he wiped his mouth.

Jonathan nodded. "Looks good. What are you waiting for?" he teased. "Let's go."

With a little smile that didn't quite reach his eyes, Trip hooked his canteen onto his belt. "Age before beauty," he joked, gesturing to Jonathan.

Jonathan started up the slope. It was difficult going now. The rocks slipped and slid under his feet. Still, it felt good to be on solid ground again, away from the ship and the crew. He thought maybe Trip felt the same—at least, he hoped so. When he invited the man down to the planet with him, Trip had thought quietly for a moment before agreeing, and Jonathan was struck by the thought that Trip might actually refuse. But Trip said he'd come along, and they sat together studying the scans, their heads side by side, picking out a good spot for a hike. Jonathan made sure it was far from the rest of the crew members' destinations. If Trip noticed that fact, he hadn't commented on it.

Jonathan continued picking his way up the slope, pausing before a steep area, using his hands to balance himself. He glanced behind to check on Trip, who was pulling himself up after him. Jonathan grimaced at the distracted expression on the man's face and wondered whether he were enjoying himself, even just a little. As he turned back to the slope, he heard a scuffling sound behind him, followed by a thump and muttered curses.

"Trip?" he called, spinning around to find Trip face-down on the ground. "Are you okay?"

"Just fine, Cap'n, just fine," Trip told him, his voice chagrined as he pushed himself up. "Just wasn't payin' attention." He rubbed his elbow.

Jonathan knelt next to Trip. He took in the smudge of dirt across Trip's chest and asked, "Are you sure? Do you want to go back to the ship?" He reached for Trip's shoulder, then hesitated, unsure if his touch would be welcomed.

"Nah," Trip said, then leaned toward him. It was almost like old times. Almost. "Nothing harmed except my dignity," he added with a hint of a smile—a genuine one this time.

Relief washed through Jonathan's body at the sight. It had been a while since he had seen that smile. He let his hand rest on Trip's shoulder. He could feel the heat of the other man's body through the thin cloth of the Starfleet-issue warm-weather uniform. "As long as you're sure you're okay," he said with a different meaning this time. "With being here. With me."

Trip's brows drew together as he took in Jonathan's meaning. "Of course I am, Jon. It's not you—it's just—" He patted Jonathan's leg.

"Trip, you know—" Jonathan started, "I—"

Trip interrupted him. "Jon, let's not talk about anymore, okay? We've gone through it all, said everything there is to say." But Trip's voice was gentle, and his hand continued its gentle caress of Jonathan's leg.

Jonathan sighed. It was true. "Okay."

"I just want to enjoy the being out here." At Jonathan's nod, he added, "With you." He leaned forward and pressed his lips against Jonathan's in a brief kiss.

Jonathan touched Trip's cheek as he pulled back. Trip's gesture was a balm to his worried soul. Maybe things would be all right again between them after all. He stood, pulling Trip to his feet, never taking his eyes off the face of the man he loved.

It had been a difficult two weeks since the death of the Vissian cogenitor. Jonathan still cringed at the memory of the way he had dressed down his lover over the incident. He had overreacted in a big way. And after he knew the full story, he should have understood why this gentle-hearted man felt it necessary to interfere. But still, he had laid blame on Trip's shoulders, scolding him, telling him in no uncertain terms that what Trip had done was wrong. He still remembered the look of hurt on Trip's face, the pain he saw there—the pain he himself had caused Trip, heaped on top of the pain the man was already feeling. What made it worse was the realization that he had done just what Trip had done: he'd interfered, and there had been consequences.

The next day, they talked. Jonathan apologized, telling Trip why he had been so upset, that he had hoped they could develop a mutually beneficial relationship with an advanced race, but that he understood that Trip had acted with his heart instead of his brain. And Trip apologized too, for not being able to help himself from trying to fix a situation that he saw as being unjust. "My daddy always told me that keeping your mouth shut about something is just the same as being a participant yourself," he told Jonathan. They'd talked for a long time, and in the end Jonathan was pretty sure Trip understood his reaction—even seemed to forgive him. But that evening, after dinner, Trip quietly asked if Jonathan would mind if he just went back to his quarters alone. "I just need some time alone," he said. "I need space. I need to think." Then Trip kissed him gently and left. Jonathan stared at the closed door, wishing there was something he could do, wondering just exactly how much time and space Trip was going to need.

The next two weeks had been simply awful. Trip was completely normal while on duty. He even exerted himself to be as charming as usual to Subcommander T'Pol during meals. During those times, Jonathan could pretend that nothing had happened, that things between them were the same as ever. But every night, Trip retired—alone—to his own quarters. He wouldn't return personal messages Jonathan sent to the console in Trip's quarters, and he didn't come by. He had rebuffed Jonathan's two attempts to have a talk, and Jonathan had been afraid to ask again. But he hadn't broken things off. Jonathan clung to that. Still, he was tired of lying in bed alone, with only the company of Porthos and his water polo ball, feeling guilty. He felt like he was being punished, and then he felt like he deserved it.

In a desperate effort to thaw the coolness that now lay between them, Jonathan had asked Trip to go hiking. He wanted them to spend time alone together, climbing around the hills of this beautiful, wild planet. Jonathan still wanted to talk. He hoped that the fresh mountain air, the exercise would be relaxing, conducive to reconciliation. He'd been encouraged when Trip said yes. But now, as they hiked together, Jonathan wondered how long it was going to take. There was still a distance between them. He could still sense the tension in Trip's body when he got close.

"Just past that big rock on the right," Trip said, interrupting his thoughts, and Jonathan saw it: a grassy plateau. The second they reached it, Trip dropped his pack and flopped down on the grass, sprawling on his back, gazing up at the sky. "Real nice to be under a big open sky for a change," he said. "I don't feel all closed in anymore."

Jonathan set his pack next to Trip's and gazed at the young man lying flat on his back, trying to read his expression, wondering about any meaning hidden beneath those words. But Trip was looking straight up at the sky, hands folded under his head, a quiet expression on his face. The long grass rippled around him in the gentle breeze, and Trip stretched out with a contented sigh. Jonathan took it as an invitation and, after a moment, sat down next to Trip. He turned his body at a right angle to Trip's and laid back, resting his head on Trip's stomach. He relaxed as he felt Trip's hand touch his scalp, gently ruffling his hair.

"Yes, very nice," Jonathan agreed.

Feeling bolder, he reached up and hooked a hand under Trip's thigh. Trip didn't want to talk, but Trip's hand was touching his hair. Was he reaching out? Maybe they didn't need to talk things out. Maybe they needed to just let things happen. Jonathan ran his hand along Trip's leg in a caress. Trip didn't object; his fingers continued to slowly wind in Jonathan's hair, sweet and soothing. Jonathan exhaled and went limp against the ground, utterly relaxed.

Trip nudged him with his leg. "Don't stop. Try reachin' a little higher there, Cap'n."

Jonathan grinned, obediently sliding his hand along the inside of Trip's thigh. It was the first suggestive comment Trip had made to him in a long time. He listened as Trip sighed again, as he stroked the hard, lean muscle. He could feel the rhythm of Trip's breathing, feel his stomach rise and fall. He stared up at the sky, a lovely shade of blue, and listened to birds twittering. It was a beautiful planet, he thought. It even smelled good—green and fresh.

Trip shifted, and the rolling muscles under Jonathan's head and neck reminded him of being on a ship at sea. He lifted his head. "Sorry, you uncomfortable?"

"No, no, just my canteen pokin' at me."

"Here." Jonathan reached around for the bottle hanging from Trip's belt and released it.

"Much better. Thanks."

Jonathan settled back onto the flat stomach, canteen still in hand. He unscrewed the cap and took a sip of water, enjoying the cool breeze on the plateau as it dried his sweat. He ran his fingers through the grass, wrapping the long blades between his fingers. He felt relaxed, at last, and enjoyed the comfortable moment with his lover, after all the stiffness of the previous days.

Trip's fingers tapped his head. "You want to share some of that?"

Hearing the invitation in the man's voice, Jonathan replaced the cap, screwing it down only part way, then rolled over and propped himself up on an elbow. "You mean this?" He waved the bottle.

When Trip reached for it, Jonathan pulled it back, out of reach. "Ah. Allow me." He held it over Trip's face, squeezing. Trip flinched as a squirt of water landed on his cheek, then his nose, but Jonathan adjusted his aim, and finally the trickle landed in Trip's mouth. A flick of a pink tongue, and it was gone. Jonathan smiled, enjoying the sight. He squeezed the bottle harder, and a gout of water rained down on Trip's mouth, too fast for Trip to swallow.

Trip laughed and sputtered as the water dripped down the side of his face and onto the grass. "Hold on—"

Giving into temptation, Jonathan bent to lick the water from Trip's chin and from that smiling mouth. Immediately, Trip's hand clamped down on the back of his head, holding Jonathan's head in place as he pushed his tongue between Jonathan's lips, sweeping him into a soulful kiss.

Jonathan's heart leapt. He'd been waiting so long for Trip to unbend, to forgive him—it had been sheer torment. Now, they shared a slow, lingering kiss, and Jonathan poured himself into it, communicating his need for Trip through his lips and tongue. Trip's hand still cupped the back of his head, but other than that, only their mouths were touching. They reacquainted themselves with the touch and the taste of one another, taking their time. Trip's lips were soft, wet, and just a little slippery, and his breath puffed against Jonathan's cheek. Jonathan felt a rush of tenderness toward the man, this man who he loved so dearly, who thought with his heart, rather than his head.

Trip released Jonathan's head and looked up at him, gazing steadily at Jonathan. "I'm okay now," he whispered.

Relieved, Jonathan kissed his nose, then the lid of each eye. The breeze shifted, and Jonathan brushed away a few stray blades of grass from Trip's cheek, watching as the man stretched and shifted on the grass. Jonathan heard a small sound from deep in Trip's throat. "Could be better, though," Trip continued, licking his lips.

"Oh, really? Anything I could do to help?" Jonathan asked, sneaking a glance down the length of Trip's body and happy to see what he'd hoped for. "Pants a little tight there?" He dipped his head, licking Trip's throat, tasting the saltiness of his smooth skin.

Trip chuckled in response. "There's plenty you can do to help, bein' that you caused all that." He indicated toward his crotch. "You just try hiking behind someone wearin' clothes so tight that they shouldn't be allowed," he added with a playful scowl.

"Hmmm." Jonathan pushed himself up into a sitting position and looked his lover's body over thoughtfully. He saw the canteen where he had left it in the grass and grinned. "I think you just got yourself a little overheated."

"Hey, we aren't in any desert—I know better than to go there with you now," Trip accused, watching as Jonathan picked up the canteen.

"Why?" Jonathan asked, swinging his leg over Trip's, then kneeling between his lover's legs. "Because I ended up kissing the daylights out of you once I got you back on board *Enterprise*?" He kept his tone light, but he was genuinely concerned, wondering if Trip regretted becoming his lover.

But Trip only wagged his brow at him. "Nope, I liked that part. It was the almost dyin' of heatstroke part that doesn't appeal to me."

"Well," Jonathan said, unbuckling Trip's pants, "let's just make sure that doesn't happen again." He unzipped and tugged on Trip's pants and briefs together, still watching Trip's face, searching for any sign that Trip might not welcome this sort of attention, despite the hard swell of his erection.

But Trip's hands were with his, assisting him, getting his pants down over his hips, his eyes growing dark with anticipation. Jonathan admired Trip's eager cock as it sprang free, the silky skin stretched shiny and tight over the hard shaft. Without touching it, he stretched forward to push up Trip's mud-streaked shirt, baring Trip's stomach. He breathed deeply, catching the warm scent of Trip's body, the earthy smell of his lover bringing sharply to mind long nights of slow, sweet lovemaking, of Trip straining over him, inside of him, panting Jonathan's name as Jonathan's hands twisted the sheets in the throes of almost unbearable pleasure.

"It's gettin' kind of hot now," Trip said, his voice breathy with need.

Jonathan picked up the canteen and tilted it over Trip's stomach. A droplet of water struck warm skin, and Trip twitched in response. Another drop, and Jonathan delighted in the quiver of muscle. "Is that better?" he asked solicitously.

In response, Trip smiled.

"How about this?" Jonathan trickled water over Trip's flat belly, then leaned over and kissed it off, letting his lips slide along the damp flesh. He sent a few more droplets flying at random over Trip's stomach and ribs. He heard Trip whisper his name as he nuzzled along Trip's stomach, finding each droplet, then slowly licking Trip's warm flesh, with one long, lazy swipe of the tongue for each drop. One hand pushed up underneath Trip's shirt, bunching it up under Trip's arms, Trip eagerly helping, holding the shirt in place. The next trickle hit the center of Trip's chest, and Jonathan nuzzled Trip's chest hair with his nose as he licked the water away. One of Trip's nipples was next. Trip gasped as the water hit, his nipple tightening at the feel of the cool water. Jonathan touched the tip of his tongue to each droplet of water delicately, stroked hard with his tongue, and gently bit. He felt Trip moan, his muscles twitching under his mouth.

The taste of Trip's skin had its consequences, Jonathan realized, loosening his own belt and pulling his own pants down around his knees. His own cock was now a heavy, hot weight between his legs, twitching in the coolness of the mountain air. He trickled a little more water on Trip's stomach, then took his own penis in his hand and used the head to stroke the droplets of water away. Trip's skin felt cool and wet in contrast to the heat of his own cock. He leaned down and licked where the water had been.

"Oh, god, Jon," Trip moaned. His legs moved around Jonathan, bending his legs, his feet digging into the grass. Trip reached one hand down to grasp his own straining cock.

Jonathan intercepted that hand. "No, Trip, not yet." He placed Trip's arms to his sides, and Trip's hand immediately fisted a handful of grass. "Don't you move. Just let me take care of you." He wanted to take his time, to linger over his lover's body, to draw out the pleasure for as long as possible. He wanted to hear Trip's cries ringing through the mountainside.

Trip nodded, lips quirking in anticipation.

Feeling more confident, Jonathan deployed the canteen again. He moved out from between Trip's legs, kneeling at his side, and trickled water on Trip's chest. He used the full length, not just the tip, of his cock to wipe away the water, pushing the length of hot flesh hard against Trip's body, sliding it down the side of his body, feeling the ridges of Trip's ribs. Then he bent over to kiss where his cock had been a moment before, this time just barely touching his lips to Trip's skin, breathing gently. When he came up for air, Trip circled his ass, clearly wanting to thrust.

"Jon," he whispered. His eyes were dark with need, fingers deep in the green grass.

Jonathan didn't pay any attention to the plea. Another squirt of water, and he was gliding his cock over the hard nub of Trip's nipple. Trip's body felt wonderful against his cock. He felt the vibrations of Trip's chest heaving as Trip moved, shifted, and groaned. Jonathan slid his hand up and down his own damp shaft, enjoying the sensation. A small amount of come forced its way out, and Jonathan wiped it against Trip's nipple. Trip, breathing heavily, moaned as Jonathan leaned down and licked the glistening drop off. He used his teeth next.

"No," Trip said as Jonathan held up the canteen again. "No more."

"Yes," Jonathan said.

The next squirt hit Trip on the mouth. Jonathan, awkward with his pants around his knees, made his way to Trip's head. He held his cock steady and rubbed it against Trip's lips. Trip's mouth opened, and his tongue licked the underside of his cock. Jonathan fell forward onto one arm as a bolt of desire left him weak. His body was singing. He was closer to coming than he had realized. Trip seized the opportunity: he took one of Jonathan's balls into his mouth and sucked.

Jonathan rubbed up and down his shaft. It was the first time they'd made love for more than two weeks. He felt his control slipping away. He was incredibly hard, so hard that his cock ached for release. He couldn't stop stroking himself. The feel of his own hand as it stroked the skin stretched tight over his rod made him pant with desire, and the feel of Trip's warm mouth on his testicle made his balls feel heavy and hard and so damn tight.

He groaned as pushed himself up, away from that tantalizing mouth, and sat back on his heels. Trip's body looked magnificent: his cock was dusky red in its tangle of light brown hair, and his skin was sheened with sweat. His chest rose and fell with each harsh breath. His arms were still spread out to his sides. He was looking at Jonathan, and the expression on Trip's face said it all. There was no distance between them anymore, just love and affection and yearning. Jonathan realized it really was going to be all right. Trip was still his; Trip still wanted him. And from the look of Trip right this second, Trip needed him—desperately. The feeling was mutual.

Picking up the canteen, Jonathan aimed the next squirt at Trip's stomach. He slid his length through the droplets of water, lost in the sensation of masturbating on Trip's skin. More water, a little lower this time, caused Jonathan to brush the tip of Trip's dick, first with his cock, then with his cheek as he licked just underneath it, laving Trip with his tongue as he moved his hand over his own cock. Jonathan sent another stream of water across Trip's stomach, knowing he couldn't last, because Trip was too beautiful, his skin too inviting, wet and glistening like that. He pumped his cock harder as he positioned himself over the little puddle of water.

"Oh god, Trip, you're so—I need to—" he groaned as he pushed the tip of his cock against the water, and the feel of Trip's hot skin set him off. His balls tightened, and he came. The rush of pleasure was dizzying. He felt like he was pouring his soul out onto his lover.

"Jesus," Trip said when Jonathan stopped spurting. His eyes never left Jonathan's.

Jonathan made a noise that sounded like a growl, the canteen slipping from his fingers. Trip was just stunning, panting and grinding his ass into the ground, his arms spread out as though he were falling backward. Jonathan's come was spattered across Trip's stomach, and Jonathan, his own heart beating wildly from the force of his orgasm, put his mouth over first one load, then another, and licked them away. He wasn't gentle. His seed was acrid, but the taste of Trip's sweat and skin was like honey to him—infinitely sweet. His tongue rasped against the planes of Trip's belly. Trip's stomach felt soft, but underneath, he could feel the steel of Trip's muscles, could feel the faint vibrations of Trip's moans.

Jonathan raised his head as his hand reached out for the canteen. Trip said his name as he upended it. A final splash, and Jonathan took Trip's dripping erection into his mouth. Trip's hips lifted and jerked forward as Jonathan took in all of him, then released him part way and put a hand around the base of Trip's cock. His other hand cupped Trip's balls. He sucked hard up and down the glistening length of Trip's rigid length. As Trip began thrusting, he squeezed Trip's balls and rotated his other hand, pleasuring the base of Trip's shaft as his mouth continued to tease. Trip cried out as he peaked. His throbbing cock jetted warm come over and over again, and Jonathan sucked it into his mouth. He made his movements gentle, less demanding, as the spurts slowed. As Trip softened, Jonathan released Trip's balls and pulled his head back so he could swallow. He felt Trip's body give a shuddering sigh and go limp.

Jonathan released Trip and kissed his stomach. He worked his way up slowly. He wasn't teasing his lover now; he was simply telling Trip how he felt. He finally got to Trip's mouth and kissed him gently. A moment later, Trip's arms went around him. Trip tugged Jonathan on top of him, and they rolled together on the grass, legs tangling awkwardly with their pants around their knees. But they pressed their bodies together, chest to chest, groin to groin.

"That was torture," Trip said. "Water torture."

"Oh, yes," Jonathan agreed, voice fervent.

"I thought I was goin' to lose it when you came all over me like that. You looked so damn gorgeous."

"I did lose it," Jonathan confessed. He hesitated. "I was worried I was going to lose you, you know," he added softly.

"You kiddin' me? Never," Trip said. "I had to think, that's all. Thanks for lettin' me do that. Givin' me the space I needed."

Jonathan stroked Trip's back. "I was really worried," he confessed. "I'm so sorry."

"I know. But I was just kind of numb. You know how that happens sometimes? Especially after something like that happens."

Jonathan pulled Trip close and closed his eyes. "Yeah," he said. "I know." Trip's warmth and nearness could almost make him forget about the lonely two weeks they'd been apart. Almost. He'd really hurt Trip. He wouldn't make that mistake again.

He felt Trip slide off to one side, tucking his head against Jonathan's chest. "Mmmm, this is real nice," Trip murmured, stifling a yawn. "I missed snuggling up to you. I missed being in your bed."

Jonathan yawned widely in return, watching as Trip sat up and tugged up his pants, wiggling his hips about in an intriguing manner as he got his clothes situated. He let Trip pull up his own pants, too, lifting his ass to make things easier. "I suppose," Jonathan said, "it wouldn't do for the captain of the *Enterprise* to be caught with his pants down."

Trip grinned as gave up trying to buckle Jonathan's belt and sprawled out on the grass next to him. "I was just thinkin' you might get your ass bit by some bug crawling around out here."

Jonathan stretched and yawned yet again, feeling utterly relaxed. "Come here," he ordered.

Trip slid in next to him, and Jonathan pulled him close. He nuzzled Trip's hair with his nose. He felt warm and utterly content with Trip in his arms, where he belonged. He sighed and closed his eyes.

***

There was a tickling sensation on his forehead. Jonathan frowned, twitched his brow, but there it was again. He opened his eyes to see Trip with an amused expression on his face, flicking drops of water down onto him.

Damn. He had fallen asleep. Right after sex, just like the cliché. "Just resting my eyes," he informed Trip, watching the amused expression grow into a full-fledged smile.

"My ass, you were. You were snorin' so loud you scared half the birds away," Trip teased as he propped himself up on an elbow.

Jonathan groaned, acknowledging he didn't have the stamina he once did. But then Trip kissed him, tenderly at first, then more roughly, and he decided he must have something going for him, to warrant having such a lively young lover.

"I like watching you sleep," Trip murmured to him between kisses. "I like knowing I'm the one who got you so darn tired out in the first place." His hand stroked Jonathan's chest, toying with the shirt zipper, then tugging it down.

"What time is it?" Jonathan asked.

"Only 1200 hours. I didn't let you sleep long. We've still got plenty of time." He nuzzled Jonathan's chest, exposed by the unzipped shirt, and rubbed his crotch against Jonathan's thigh.

Jonathan caressed Trip's head, feeling the almost bristly texture of the short, thick hair. The birds were singing again—at least those he hadn't frightened away with his snoring—and the air was still now. He could smell the grass and the earth, the sweet scent of distant flowers. He thought that this was a moment he should treasure, a quiet oasis amongst the turmoil of the previous missions. As Trip's mouth worked its way up along his neck, with slow, sweet kisses, he worried that this kind of moment, so relaxed and natural, would become all too rare in their future.

"I love you Trip, you know that, don't you?" he said suddenly. It was suddenly important that he say the words.

Trip touched his face, fingertips tracing his cheek. "Of course I do, Jonny." His eyes were clear and direct as he laid a kiss on Jonathan's mouth. Then serious turned into conspiratorial. "The thing is, you knew me first—knew all of me, the good, the bad, even the ugly. And you still fell in love with me. I've never had anything like this before." He grinned. "I can be me, just Trip Tucker, and you love me for it. Even when I wreak havoc with other cultures."

Jonathan smiled right back. His cocky lover had returned, and he felt like rejoicing. "Well, now, I can say the same thing," he said, pulling Trip into his arms.

"No, you can't," Trip rejoined. "I loved you from the very start. Before I even knew who you were, I was admiring that fine ass from afar. Didn't you notice I always worked out at the very same time you'd be doin' your swimmin'?" Trip sighed. "In that nice, tight, wet—oh yeah."

"I just figured we were working the same shift, so we were off at the same time. Pure coincidence." Trip had begun rubbing his erection against his own, and it felt incredible, even through layers of clothing. He moaned, pushing his hips up against Trip, wrapping his arms around his lover, and squeezing so hard Trip grunted.

"So," Trip asked, "you ready for some serious messin' around?"

Jonathan eyed the smiling face above his, then laughed. "Don't tell me—you brought the proper supplies?"

"Of course I did. And I have some lunch, too." Trip dragged his pack closer and fumbled with a zipper, then produced a tube of lubricant. "I figured you might get frisky out here in the fresh air."

"*I* had hoped the time alone would help us clear things up," Jonathan said. "I didn't bring you here so that I could—we could—" He trailed off.

"Jonathan Archer, sometimes you are the biggest idiot I know," Trip scolded gently. "I didn't think that, not for one moment."

"No?"

"Nope. Not one bit," Trip added. "But I kind of like the way we're making up. I want to be buried in that tight, sweet ass of yours—" He broke off laughing as Jonathan hurried unfasten his own pants and push them down.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" Jonathan teased. He watched as Trip, still laughing, rolled onto his back and pulled his trousers down over his slim hips, his cock springing free, bouncing a little as Trip laughed. This, he thought, is the way lovemaking should be.

"C'mon, on your side," Trip said, patting his hip.

Jonathan obediently rolled, facing away from Trip, tugging his pants down further as he brought his knees up. Then he gave up the struggle and kicked his shoes off, wriggling out of his pants completely. So what if the captain is found with his pants down, he thought, with a burst of exhilaration.

He felt wet, slick pressure a moment later as Trip circled his opening, making him gasp out loud. "Oh, god, Trip—" Then he was left speechless as Trip sank his fingers deep inside of him, moving slowly, gently, not hurting. Trip never hurt him. Trip was the gentlest man he knew. He pushed back against his lover's fingers, moaning with delight at the sheer pleasure of it all.

"Oh, yeah, that's it," Trip crooned to him as he slid his fingers in and out, stretching the already relaxed muscle.

Jonathan listened to the sound of Trip's voice as he rested his head on his forearm, burying his hands in the dense grass. He could feel the fire growing within, but it was different this time—not desperate, just a sweet yearning.

"Ready?" Trip asked, rubbing his face against the side of Jonathan's head.

"Ready," Jonathan sighed. "Just like this. The way we are now."

"Can do. I think—"

He felt Trip moving into place behind him, his thick, blunt cock pushing against his ass. Trip shifted again, grunting as he repositioned himself. Then Trip's thighs bumped up against the back of his legs, and Trip was pushing inside of him, pushing harder, then sliding on home as Jonathan pushed back. Trip slid all the way to the hilt, filling Jonathan, stretching him deliciously.

"Jesus, Jonny," Trip gasped, winding his arm around and clutching at Jonathan's shirt. "So damn good—"

Jonathan groaned. He loved it when Trip called him Jonny, maybe because he did so only rarely. He only did it when they were alone, and he only did it when they were intimate. But it did something to him, deep down—perhaps because he'd just spent two weeks being "the captain" to Trip. He had feared that that was all he'd ever be. But now, with Trip spooned up behind him, inside of him, he vowed be more understanding of Trip's nature.

He reached for Trip's hand, unwinding his fingers from his shirt, bringing to his lips. Trip's breath gusted gently against Jonathan's neck as he moaned again, pushing his hips against Jonathan's ass, his cock reaching deep inside. Trip began a gentle, easy thrust with his hips, still rubbing his face in Jonathan's hair.

Jonathan relaxed into Trip's body, still holding Trip's hand, their fingers intertwined. The sun was warm on his exposed skin; the grass tickled the side of his face as Trip slid into him, again and again, sending waves of bone-melting pleasure through his body. He wanted this moment to last forever, wanted the universe to go away and just leave him and Trip alone together in peace. Just Trip and this lazy rhythm, the long strokes inside of his body, igniting this slow burn.

Eventually Trip's breath quickened, his strokes coming faster. "Jon—" He moved their hands together, down to Jonathan's heavy, aching cock. "I want you to come—Jon—I want to feel you comin' all around me," he panted.

Jonathan fisted his cock, shuddering at his own touch, and felt Trip jerk behind him. "Oh god, that was good," Trip said, "I could feel you movin'. It's just so gorgeous—oh yeah." He wrapped his hand around the base of Jonathan's cock, then when Jonathan lifted one leg, he reached further down, fingering Jonathan's heavy sacs.

Jonathan continued his long, firm strokes in counterrhythm to Trip's thrusts. The gentle, slow rhythm had resulted in a piling up of sensation; he couldn't last much longer. He pushed his ass against Trip, trying to drive Trip in even further. Trip clutched at his leg, whimpering as he thrust faster, the sound raw and intensely erotic. The sound of his lover's mindless passion was too much, too beautiful, the way Trip was pounding inside of him, the way Trip loved him—

He groaned, squeezing his cock hard, and came convulsively, splattering the grass with long, steady spurts of come as his body was wracked with pleasure.

"Jon—Jon—oh god damn—I'm—I'm—" With one last plunge, Trip stiffed behind him, then moaned, low and throaty, as he climaxed. Jonathan reached behind, grabbing onto Trip's hip with a sticky hand, feeling him shake and tremble with the power of his orgasm.

At last Trip relaxed against him, kissing and licking the back of his neck. "Mmmm. Nice," he sighed.

Jonathan smiled at the utterly content tone of his lover's voice. "I'll say," he said, stroking the hip behind him. He felt incredibly languid himself, as though he were floating on a sea of grass. He felt Trip's body shift, and a second later, Trip pulled out.

"This was a good idea, Cap'n," Trip whispered, wrapping his arm around Jonathan's waist. "I'm glad we decided on this excursion."

"Me too, Trip. Me too."

Trip's arm relaxed around his waist. A few minutes later, Jonathan heard the sound of deep, steady breathing and felt the slow brush of his friend and lover's breath against the nape of his neck as Trip gave into sleep. Jonathan was completely content. He wanted to stretch out this moment forever. Things were back to normal, and they'd sealed their understanding with their bodies.

He intertwined his fingers with Trip's and settled into the curve of Trip's body, listening to Trip sleep.