Angel

ANGELBy Morticia

ANGEL

By Morticia

Part 19 - 22

Disclaimers see Part 1

 

TOM

As though it was only yesterday I can remember
every detail of that night that I moved back into Chakotay's
quarters. It had been a really bad day for me, exactly a year
since my accident. Nobody mentioned the anniversary but I knew
that everybody remembered the date from the shifty way they kept
avoiding my glance.

I think that in a strange way they all felt
responsible for their failure to find a cure for me, as though
the accident had been their fault not my own. I guess that the
anniversary spelled out for me the fact that it was too late for
any more false hope. It was the day I finally accepted my
paralysis was forever.

After shift I asked Harry to accompany me to
Observation Lounge 2 to lay a ghost, so to speak. I needed to
wallow a little in misery but I didn't want to be alone. Harry
was nearly ecstatic at my invitation and I was guiltily aware of
how long I had neglected him.

After the accident I had pushed him away, I had
pushed everyone away until the only person who still came to see
me without an express invitation was Chakotay. I was aware with a
kind of rueful pleasure that even a refusal of admittance to
Chakotay would only result in a broken door and a very pissed off
Maquis warrior.

At the beginning I had hated him for his
persistence, now I depended on it. But it was time for me to
start reaching out to other old friends too, offering an olive
branch. No one blamed me for my behavior, no one had grown to
dislike me no matter how bitterly I had spurned them, but even
Harry had become wary of my temper and it was time for me to grow
up and get on with my life.

So we talked in the Observation lounge as we
watched the passing constellations and at some point I found
myself telling him the significance of the location and then he
just held me awkwardly as I cried.

When the door opened and footsteps entered I
simply knew it was Chakotay, as though the same echoes of memory
linked us through eternity. As I turned myself and saw the wet
tears on his face it was as though we were transported
light-years back to the precise moment of our last meeting in
this room.

I was barely aware of Harry leaving and
Chakotay and I chatted quietlyackiacking easy jokes to dispel the
gloom in our hearts. That was when he asked me to come home.

It was strange how compelling those two words
were considering I had never truly felt at home in Chakotay's
quarters in my brief period of prior occupation. I had been too
aware of myself as a jangling note in the calm symphony of his
existence.

But truthfully the words did not evoke a
picture of his spartan quarters in my head. It was not the
thought of his four walls that inspired a smile like my face had
forgotten it could make. To me Chakotay's invitation to come home
was the key to his heart. He was offering to accept me completely
into his life and soul.

At that point in my life, when all other hope
had gone, there was no gift more precious that could have been
offered to me and I grasped it firmly, if figuratively, in both
hands.

As though he had been sure of my decision all
along, and let's face it I hadn't got that many alternatives
lined up, he immediately commed B'Elanna and told her to
implement his plan.

So just an hour later, Chakotay managed to keep
his promise and take me home.

With the help of the transporters B'Elanna had
make short shrift of moving me in. As Chakotay stepped aside to
let me float through the door I could see the lights of my
bio-bed twinkling from deep within the unlit bedroom like a
bizarre Christmas tree.

The tears caught in my eyes as I saw my
favourite picture hung on the wall over the Vid screen and
various personal items that I had collected on my away missions
were scattered around the shelves.

A whole new shelf had been put up for my vids
and data-padds. And the treasured picture of my Mum and sisters
had joined the wall next to the picture of Chakotay's own family.

I looked around the room in disbelief as
Chakotay came up to me and slung his arm around my shoulders in a
comforting hug.

"This is what I wanted before, Tom. This
is what I expected to see on that night I came home." He
explained gently and for the first time, as I replayed my memory
of that terrible night, I truly saw things from his point of
view.

"How come we were both so fucking
stupid!" I hissed as hot tears forced their way from my
burning eyes

"I don't know, Tom, I'm only sorry that
you had to pay such a terrible price." Chakotay murmured as
he kissed my temple gently before walking over to the replicator
to order our dinner.

As he walked I noticed for the first time how
much he had aged over the last year, his hair was shot through
with silver strands, his eyes were lined and furrowed, his body
almost as thin now as mine. He had not coped well with what had
happened to me.

"We have both paid the price." I
stated firmly and he looked at me in amazement before sighing and
nodding in reluctant agreement.

"Let's promise now that we will always
tell each other exactly how we feel. We must never let our
failure to talk to each other destroy us again!" Chakotay
vowed fiercely and I agreed completely.

After he had fed me and eaten his own meal, he
unstrapped me from my chair and careful not to disconnect my
tubes from it's base he gathered me in his arms and sat back down
on the couch until I was sitting on his lap, my head on his
shoulder and his firm hands hugging me tightly.

I could feel his warmth surrounding me, seeping
up into my dead thighs, burrowing in to my chest from his strong
arms. For the first time I truly gave thanks to the Breegren for
their gift of sensation as I sighed with bliss and sank into his
embrace.

To know that his mouth was only inches from
mine but that I was as unable to reach it as a puppet without
strings made me groan with frustration. Instantly Chakotay
responded to my exclamation with fear

"What is it, Tom? Am I hurting you? Do you
want me to put you back in your chair?"

"No, I want you to kiss me." I
replied firmly

Hesitantly he loosened an arm enough to rock me
backwards so that my face was in front of his and he peered into
my eyes with soft concern as though to check I really meant it.
Finally convinced he let his velvet lips descend to mine. I
closed my eyes in blissful anticipation and felt him touch his
lips firmly to mine in a polite buss and then he withdrew.

I snapped my eyes open in fury. "I said
kiss me. Properly, I'm not your mother" I spat in my
disappointment.

As he hesitated, a sick dread knifed into my
soul, ripping away all of my self-confidence.

"Unless you don't want me anymore" I
whispered brokenly.

His answer was to swoop down again and this
time his lips were open and welcoming. I pushed the hesitant tip
of my tongue out to touch his and for a few seconds we danced
like this before groaning with need, he forced his hot tongue
completely inside my mouth and plundered mercilessly.

As the taste of his sweet, salty saliva
exploded on my taste buds and his clean musky aroma assaulted my
nose, I was enveloped by an unbelievably fierce wave of arousal.

A hot kiss like this had always shot down to my
groin in the past but with nowhere to go but up the sensation
short-circuited my brain and lights flashed in my eyes as I grew
dizzy with desire. We were both panting for breath a fin finally
pulled away. For a moment he gazed with concern at my glazed
expression, and then realising that I was fine he gently kissed
the tip of my nose.

I could feel his hardness pressing up into the
back of my thighs and I sighed at my inability to take the kiss
any further. Perhaps the Doctor could do something about the
messy tubes of my plumbing. I knew I was impotent but I would
still be able to feel fillfill me, be able to experience the
friction of his skin against mine.

But as I looked up a Chakotay's face I had to
admit to myself that it would probably be a cold day in hell
before he would agree to take my paralyzed body in that fashion,
no matter how much I begged him to.

I shuddered inside at the thought of him
spending the rest of his life whacking off in the shower whilst I
lay frustrated and helpless in the next room. I closed my eyes in
sudden misery.

"Are you all right, babe?" Chakotay
asked with such concern that I was ashamed of my selfishness.

"Just tired" I whispered, and as he
carried me to my bed I considered bitterly that our new regime of
truthfulness had been very short lived.

 

CHAKOTAY

 

I had spent hours with the Doctor discussing
how I could accomplish the task of bringing Tom home and then
B'Elanna and I had planned everyail ail of the move with military
precision. I had been amazed by the speed with which Tom had
agreed to my suggestion and events had then moved so quickly that
I had barely caught my breath. It was only much later, as I lay
beside him in my bed and felt him so near and yet still so
inaccessible, that the enormity of my decision truly hit me.

Before my long sobering discussion with the
Doctor that morning, I had imagined that I would at least be able
to hold Tom's body through the lonely nights, infusing him with
my warmth and love.

I had not considered the many necessary
functions that the bio-bed performed for him. During sleep, a
"normal" person twists and turns almost constantly, so
no part of their body is forced to withstand constant pressure
for hours on end since the pressure points are constantly
changing.

Not so, apparently, with a paralyzed person
like Tom. The Doctor had explained to me that once Tom was
lowered into bed, he couldn't turn by himself. So the surface of
his skin which met the mattress would remain compressed all night
long. Sustained pressure on the skin would cause his interior
blood vessels to collapse, cutting off his blood flow, and
eventually killing his skin tissue, leading to sores, infection
and even death.

The bio-bed was fitted with several long tubes
running lengthwise. The upper surface of the tubes were made of a
fabric with thousands of tiny holes that allowed the compres air air to "breathe" against Tom's body through the night.
An air pump inflated or deflated the tubes alternately causing
Tom to rotate from side to side.

In this way, the pressure on Tom's skin was
relieved, the whisper of a "breeze" safeguarding his
skin from excess moisture and heat and the fluid that gathered in
Tom's artificial lungs was kept mobile and easier to suction out.

I could not try to replicate this aid. I could
hold Tom in my arms for a cuddle but if I fell asleep, if he was
not constantly moved, Tom's under-oxygenated skin and body tissue
would die.

So I did not dare to hold him. He had to remain
alone in the bio-bed and I could only lie on my side next to him,
with my arm resting gently over his chest, feeling the pacemaker
in his implants gently blow him up like a balloon, twelve times
every minute

The rhythm rocked me to a fitful sleep. I knew
that alarms would sound if a hose popped off or something else
went wrong but I didn't BELIEVE it. All through the night I woke
constantly from terrible dreams of Tom dying and jerked awake in
stark terror until the steady rhythm under my arm reassured me
that he was all right.

It was in the early hours of the morning that I
finally gave up all pretence of rest and instead considered the
events of the previous evening and my feelings about them.

I thought that I had resigned myself to the
impossibility of a physical relationship with Tom. Even imagining
him as a sexual being whilst he was in this condition struck me
as perverted. I had been determined to act in a platonic manner
towards him but the shattered look in his eyes when I had been
restrained in my affection, and his heart-breaking question of
whether I still wanted him had left me no alternative but to kiss
him properly.

I was truly caught unaware by my body's
reaction to his passionate response. I surprised myself with my
intense arousal and I was immediately bitterly ashamed of myself.

Even as I changed him into his nightwear and
put him to bed I was horribly aware of the firm erection that
stood proud of his pale undernourished body. Of course I knew
that it was a completely involuntary reaction on his part. That
Tom had no more control over his cock than any other part of his
body below his neck.

Often, when I had changed Tom to go out on an
evening, I had noticed that he appeared to be aroused but the
Doctor had explained to me, months previously, that according to
the ancient medical texts he had consulted, it meant nothing.
Apparently, when a man received such a traumatic injury to the
spinal cord, he was highly unlikely to get an erection because of
feelings of sexual arousal.

Tom's erections were not due to messages sent
from his brain but were resulting from direct stimulation to the
penis or scrotum, or indirect stimulation to the penis from a
full bladder, for example. These were "reflex"
erections and common during catheterization, bowel routines, and
the movement of his legs as I dressed or undressed him and were
beyond his control.

So I was ashamed that night of my strong urge
to run my fingers lovingly down the thick shaft. I knew that Tom
would be able to feel my touch and I could almost imagine his
beautiful face screwing up in delight. But his inability to take
the sensation any further would make my touch cruel and teasing.

For a moment I even wondered whether it would
be possible to actually penetrate him, whether he would be able
to feel and take pleasure in my taking him. Would the sensation
of me filling him and sliding against him, skin against skin be
something he would welcome?

But I knew that to abuse him in this way, to
take my own gratification in his helpless body, would have been
the brutal act of a barbarian. Surely even the spirits of my
ancestors would rise in fury against me for such an outrageous
act.

I wondered whether it was for this reason that
Kathryn had been so adamant that I was making a mistake in taking
Tom home. Perhaps she had seen the vulgar darkness in me that I
had not even imagined existed.

Even as I berated myself for my callous,
unnatural desires I was overwhelmed by the pressure in my groin
and as soon as Tom was comfortable, I disappeared into the
bathroom and jumped in the shower, where I prayed the running
water would screen the sound of my frantic masturbation.

As I desperately rubbed my fingers along my
cock I pictured Tom's beautiful face in front of me and as I came
in a great fountain, I sagged against the wall,
conscience-stricken.

My guilt was so overwhelming that when I
finally returned to the bedroom, I could have sworn for a moment
that I saw a look of reproach in Tom's blue eyes.

But fortunately I knew that it was just my own
imagination. Because when I leant over to gently kiss him
goodnight, he just said

"I love you, Chakotay." In his normal
soft, sad tone.

"I love you too, babe" I replied,
even as I drowned under the weight of my guilty secret.

 

TOM

 

That first evening set the pattern of our
relationship for the next few weeks.

I was riding a roller coaster of emotions, torn
between my absolute joy at Chakotay's company though my long
painful nights and bitter frustration whenever he disappeared
into the bathroom to 'shower'.

I wanted to scream at him that I was still
alive. That being seen as a sexual being would add so very much
to my quality of life. Sexual pleasure was still possible even
without my possibility of an orgasm. Intercourse was just one way
to be sexual, we could enjoy learning and exploring new ways.

He could touch me, lick me, nibble my skin,
even if he couldn't bring himself fill me with his presence and
fulfil me with my knowledge of his own satisfaction. Even before
my accident it had been gratifying to see that I was able to
satisfy my bed-partners. This had not changed.

Perhaps if I had not been so sexually active
all my life I could have accepted the platonic nature of our
relationship. But I doubt it. Everyone needs to be held, to be
loved. I would still enjoy being touched. I could still imagine
many sexual situations with Chakotay. My mind was intact and
working overtime! I wanted to reassure him that each moment with
him was special, important and very arousing, and that his
pleasure would be mine.

But I just couldn't talk to him about it.

The problems between Chakotay and I ran deeper
than my injury. Our inability to trust and understand each other
sexually had already ripped us apart once before. It was easy for
us to blame my injury for our non-existent sex life but the truth
was that we had never had an easy relationship. We did not have
the mutual trust necessary to talk openly about our fears and
desires.

I was too unsure of whether he had ever truly
desired me, even before my injury, to push the issue now, with so
many obstacles to overcome. The truth was that I was too scared
to bring the subject up with Chakotay.

I did however discuss it with the Doctor.

He was surprisingly sympathetic considering
he's only a holoprogram, when all is said and done. He did not
scorn or scoff at my question of whether I could still be
sexually active. He actually spent several hours of research to
answer my question and came to the conclusion that my feelings
and desires were both valid and possible.

Perhaps he was considering writing a paper on
it. I could just imagine him pontificating on "Breakfast
with Neelix" as to the methods, limitations and general
practical considerations of sex with a quadriplegic.

But no matter how reassuring he was on the
subject, I could not ignore the fact that Chakotay was obviously
repulsed even more by me now than before. I knew that if I
allowed the status quo to continue then I would have his loving
friendship forever and that by pushing a confrontation I was
risking losing him.

And losing Chakotay would be losing the only
reason I had for living.

So the weeks went on, without change, except I
grew more bitter and Chakotay spent more time in the bathroom,
and still we never once actually talked about what was on our
minds. We were polite strangers sharing the most intimate of my
bodily functions but never sharing the most important of our
intimate thoughts.

 

 

CHAKOTAY

I knew that the situation couldn't continue.
That I had obviously made a mistake in moving Tom back into my
quarters.

Rather than becoming happier and more at peace
with himself and his condition, Tom was daily becoming more
sullen and depressed. And so was I.

There were lots of issues that I had found
myself unprepared to deal with. Our whole relationship had
changed. Before the injury, Tom was an independent and often
irrepressible person. He was a decision-maker, busy and involved
with the social life of the ship. Now, I was being relied upon to
ensure his health, happiness and continued interaction with other
crewmembers.

I often felt angry, irritable and depressed.
The stress of living my life around Tom's many needs on top of
doing all of my usual duties was exhausting.

It took almost two hours every morning to get
him out of bed and ready for work and the same again every night
just to get him back to bed. Between times I spent my entire duty
shift trying desperately to find reasons to justify his continued
presence on the bridge.

To be fair to Tom, he took his responsibilities
seriously. His injury had not dulled his sharp brain and Kathryn
and I took to leaving him in charge of Voyager whenever we were
reasonably certain that there were no hazards in the vicinity.
With nothing to do but think, with no chance of him being
distracted by other considerations, he became a good commanding
officer and made enough quick and decisive orders on a number of
occasions to haul our butts out of several unexpected problems.

So much so that Kathryn gave him his
lieutenant's pips back in a short but very formal ceremony and
Tom accepted them with pride and only the smallest concern that
pity had been a factor in her decision.

It was a sad fact, despite Tom's numerous
heroic efforts to redeem himself since the very first day that we
had found ourselves cast adrift in the wreckage of the
caretaker's array, that before his accident there were still many
crewmembers who had distrusted or even actively disliked him.

Even the tragedy of his accident had barely
scratched the surface of this animosity. There had been a core
minority who felt that the pilot deserved what had happened to
him, despite the general horror at his condition.

But over the last year even the most diehard of
his critics had grown to respect and admire his bravery and
tenacity. No one could fail to be impressed by his fortitude.
Every night when we visited the mess hall and the holodec, people
swarmed to his side to exchange small talk. Tom had never been so
genuinely popular in his life.

I was increasingly aware that no one talked to
ME anymore. If I entered a room alone the occupants would all say
"Hi, Chakotay, how's Tom?" Not "How are you?"
just "How's Tom?" I was ashamed of how resentful I was
becoming. Don't get me wrong, I wasn't jealous of Tom's new
popularity. I was pleased for him. He had so little else in his
life that I surely couldn't resent him stealing a little of my
own glory. Could I?

It was just that no one seemed to realise that
I had needs too. That I was breaking under the strain of being
Tom's support structure. That I was giving everything and getting
nothing in return.

So much for honest, dependable Chakotay,
protector of the weak and defender of the needy! The truth was
that I was sick and tired of always being on the receiving end of
one-sided, dependant relationships. I knew that I was incapable
of walking away completely, that I would die before I let Tom
know that he was a burden I did not wish to carry. I had no more
chance of leaving him than I had of leaving Angel.

But that didn't mean I was happy about the
situation.

If only I could touch him, hold him, love him,
it would make everything worthwhile. I was ashamed that my love
for Tom was obviously so crucially linked to my overwhelming
desire for him. But I was only human after all.

Although I had no intention of abandoning him
in any other respect, I began to consider how to justify the
decision to move him back to Sickbay where I was sure he would be
happier.

I know that it seemed heartless, but I was
genuinely trying to think of Tom's needs too. It was obviously
terribly embarrassing for him to be looked after by me in such an
intimate way. Every night after I had washed him and changed his
waste tubes and prepared him for bed, he would lie for hours with
tears of humiliation rolling down his cheeks.

He conversed happily and easily all day with
the rest of the crew but once we retired to my quarters at night
he would become sullen and non-responsive. He no longer asked to
kiss me and although I found myself consumed by the fire of my
own desire for him, I just knew that I could not force the issue.
His fear of me leaving him would surely make him agree to
anything and I could not be that kind of abuser.

I spent more and more time alone in the
bathroom with my memories and when I would emerge Tom would
pretend to sleep but I could feel the waves of his unhappiness
crashing over us both.

It was exactly six weeks after he moved in that
I finally visited the Doctor to arrange for Tom's transfer back
to Sickbay.

I took care to visit Sickbay towards the end of
Alpha Shift so that there was less likelihood of people calling
in with vague complaints and therefore disturbing me as I spoke
to the Doctor. Somehow it was always at the beginning of shift
when most people suffered from mysterious phantom aches and
pains.

The Doctor was alone in his office and seemed
both resigned and somewhat irritated to see me. I was used to his
grouchy nature and didn't take it personally. Therefore I was
totally unprepared when he met my words with vitriolic scorn.

All I had said was "I am concerned about
Tom, he doesn't seem to be happy with our living arrangements. I
am wondering whether he would prefer to separate his physical
care from our relationship." And the floodgates opened.

Somehow the Doctor's programmers had perfected
his various expressions of disdain. As First Officer I had rarely
been subjected to the range of true disgust that could be
portrayed in a single glance. Usually people at least pretended
that I was worthy of their respect.

The Doctor, however, regarded me as though I
was the lowest form of viral life that he might meet under a
microscope. I could almost hear my jaw hit the floor as he
snarled his scathing reply:

"As Tom's doctor I can't imagine anything
better than to remove him from your care. I fail to understand
why you have abused your position to get Tom within your clutches
since he obviously repulses you so much. Your refusal to accept
Tom in his current condition undermines every effort he has made
to come to terms with the terrible position he is in. You are
making a bad situation worse with your continued rejection of his
basic rights to be treated as an equal."

"Abused my position?" I spluttered
indignantly "I've done NOTHING to abuse him. I've spent 24
hours of every bloody day for the last six weeks looking after
him. What the hell are you talking about? What you mean about me
being repulsed by him?"

"Tom has been to see me and whilst
Doctor/Patient confidentiality prevents me from actually
repeating his words, I find under the circumstances I am unable
to remain impartial on the subject. I shall ask the Captain to
authorise your request since it is obviously in Tom's best
interests. I only hope that you are aware of how much damage you
have done to his already fragile confidence."

"Damage I've done? Spirits, what has Tom
said? I swear I have never so much as touched him!" I
exclaimed in passionate disbelief at the accusation.

"Exactly!" The Doctor replied dryly
"Whilst I don't pretend to fully understand the nuances of
human sexual behavior, it is obvious to me that by taking Tom
home you implied a level of commitment to your relationship that
you obviously had no intention of fulfilling. I consider that
cruel and unnatural on your part."

"Level of commitment?" I stuttered
"Cruel and unnatural?"

"Are you intending to repeat my words back
to me all afternoon or do you actually have something of
importance to say, Commander?" the Doctor sniped rudely.

Stunned, I sank into the chair before his desk.
Some measure of my complete confusion must have shown because
although the Doctor's next words were harsh they were less
judgmental.

"Tom has told me that you no longer feel
any attraction towards him. That you prefer to resolve your
'impulses' in other fashions. He naturally concludes therefore
that your act of caring for him is due only to feelings of pity
and obligation since you do not desire him in any other fashion.
He finds the situation barely tolerable and I concur."

"Tom said that? That I don't desire him?
"

"Yes"

"He couldn't be more wrong! I can't stop
thinking about him. That's the problem. That's why I can't bear
to live with him any longer. I don't trust myself not to abuse
him" I admitted guiltily, my usual protective layer of pride
torn away by the combination of the Doctor's words and my own
broken heart.

"It is hardly abuse if it is what he
wants, what he needs." The Doctor replied with evident
surprise, "Compounded with his insecurity because of the
spinal injury, the belief that he is no longer sexually
attractive is an unendurable burden for him."

"But he's helpless. I felt guilty even
considering it. I have been ashamed of my desire. How could I
possibly have initiated something he might have found abhorrent
but couldn't prevent?" I argued.

"By asking him, perhaps?" The Doctor
replied in a kinder voice than his sarcastic words implied.
"Perhaps this is simply a failure of communication. Have
either of you actually discussed your expectations of this
relationship?"

"Yes, well no, not really. It seemed cruel
to bring the subject up when he was obviously incapable."

"Tom is not incapable of responding to
your touch. He has sensation in 80% of his body. My research has
satisfied me that Tom can enjoy a physical relationship despite
his impotence. He can still gain gratification from sexual
stimulation. His body has created a whole new set of pleasure
zones. His mind will adapt to let him enjoy whatever form of love
you show him."

"I didn't know. He never said
anything!" I moaned plaintively

"To be blunt, Commander, it was up to you.
You are in the position of power in your relationship, whether
you like it or not. You should have reassured Tom that it was
okay to ask questions regarding his sexuality.

"Talking about sex can be difficult for
anyone. In his position it's almost impossible. Your reassurance
that you were still a willing partner was imperative. I
understand that you were both overwhelmed by the changes that
have happened. Talking about your feelings would have made it
easier for you both to adjust to those changes.

"As it is, Tom feels that he has been
thrown a lifeline only to have it ripped away. He is too
frightened of being rebuffed again to risk bringing up the
subject. Your continued rejection of him is only confirming his
inability to be perceived as a sexual being and although I am not
human myself, I have been programmed with enough data on the
subject to understand how crucial sexual image is, especially in
someone as young as Tom. "

"I've been so fucking stupid. Again!"
I cursed as I realised just how much further pain I had
unwittingly caused Tom. The Doctor was right. If Tom and I had
been in a strong relationship before his accident perhaps we
could have worked through this. But Tom never really trusted my
declaration of love even before his accident and with good
reason:

I spent five years too afraid to step forwards
and declare my feelings. When I finally took the chance to start
our relationship I wasted what turned out to be the last week of
his health by second-guessing him and refusing to tell him how I
felt. I let him stagger under the impossible weight of my
relationship with Angel and repeatedly told him that I would
leave him if we got home.

Then I spent a whole year after his accident
refusing to commit to him, dancing around the subject of our
relationship until my final mistake as I spent the last six weeks
accidentally re-enforcing his feelings of inadequacy.

In my mind I replayed our recent interactions.
I realised that Tom's bitter tears had stemmed only from my
refusal to touch him, to love him. I had thought I was being
noble when I treated his body like just so much meat to be
prepared and cleaned. How humiliating that must have been for
him. His fragile ego must have been shattered by my refusal to
even kiss him.

I was a blind stupid fool who didn't deserve
Tom's love.

It had been easy to accept all of the
difficulties Tom and I would face in trying to resume our
relationship physically as insurmountable obstacles, but the
truth was, love was a bitch, paralysis or not! Loneliness and
solitude were black clouds that had to be fought off daily by
everyone. No relationship was without problems but it helped if
you still viewed your partner as a sexual being. I had been
unthinkingly cruel to Tom.

I had failed to appreciate that he had the same
right to have feelings as anybody else. I had been so arrogant to
think that it was only I who was so frustrated that I had to hide
in the shower every night. Tom had not had that opportunity for
relief. He had had to lie there, knowing what I was doing.

I could no longer deceive myself that he hadn't
been fully aware of my actions. It must have been torture for
him.

"If it's not too late, if Tom agrees to
give me another chance... How will I know what to do? How can I
be sure that I won't hurt him? And to be crude, what about his
'plumbing'?"

"As I have already explained I have
researched the subject just in the hope that you would ask."
the Doctor replied pompously and launched into full lecture mode.

"On a practical level, I can advise you
that avoiding intense genital or anal stimulation when Tom has a
full bowel will help avoid an 'accident' during sexual activity.
Apparently it is a good idea to keep some protective sheets, a
towel, and a urinal nearby.

"The catheter can be folded along Tom's
penis and held in place with a condom or tape. Plenty of water
based lubricant should be used when you have intercourse."

Perhaps noticing my lack of appreciation for
the indelicacy of his comments, the Doctor changed tack

"On a less pragmatic note, sensate focus
and pleasure mapping are all suggested ways to explore various
parts of Tom's body. Exploration can include using different
kinds of touch with both the hands and the mouth like stroking,
rubbing, squeezing, kissing, sucking and nipping. I have also
read that incorporating lotions, oils, and powders may increase
his pleasure in the sensations Tom experiences."

I could feel the heat of my ever-deepening
blush simply radiating off me in waves.

Despite the Doctor's matter of fact tone I was
mortified by his easy discussion of the proposed details of my
renewed sex life with Tom.

But since it was my inability to talk about sex
that had started this whole sorry mess, I swallowed my
embarrassment and simply thanked him quietly for his assistance.

Checking the time, I realised I had still got
time to get back to our quarters and prepare before Tom's return
from duty. I had six weeks of neglect to make up for and I was
going to make sure that from his first entrance this evening, he
would be in no doubt as to how much the wind had changed.

 

TOM

As I sat on the bridge I considered bitterly
how frustrating it was to be unable to fidget. My nerves had been
stretched like a taut wire ever since Chakotay had excused
himself and disappeared. A clandestine location check had
informed me that he was in Sickbay and I didn't need a crystal
ball to know that the only reason he was there was to discuss me.

There were only two topics of possible
discussion as far as I could see. Either there was a new
complication in my condition that they did not want me to know
about or Chakotay had finally tired of the mammoth task of being
my helper.

Since I could not see any reason why anybody
would continue to look after me when they had no real feeli tow towards me, I was sure that Chakotay's pragmatism had finally
overcome his feelings of obligation.

It was so hard to stay on the bridge with no
way to release my sick feeling of dread except to release an
unearthly scream and I didn't think that that would do much for
my battle to prove myself a responsible and useful officer
despite my handicap.

I considered following Chakotay's lead and
excusing myself too but, to be honest, the only thing that
terrified me more than not knowing what he was up to was the
thought of entering the turbo lift alone.

Over the last year I had overcome obstacles
that I would never have dreamt possible. I had faced my fears and
become a stronger, better person in many ways. I was certainly
more popular and I knew that my friendships were due to the
respect people had grown to give me more than pity at my
continued paralysis. But some new fears had come with the
territory, so to speak.

I was scared to be alone. I was all too aware
of the fragile status of my continuing existence. It would only
take a small malfunction of my chair to strand me helplessly in
the middle of a lonely corridor. The unexpected failure of my
artificial lung transplants could starve me of air long enough to
leave my brain as damaged as my body. The failure of a turbo lift
could trap me indefinitely in claustrophobic limbo.

So I never left the bridge without Harry at my
side and he would escort me back to the quarters I shared with
Chakotay. We had never actually formalized this arrangement with
words. I had never been forced to admit to my fear. With the
innate empathy and kindness that were an intrinsic part of him,
Harry always simply found an excuse to be going my way.

The idea of leaving the bridge without Harry's
support was unthinkable and I could not even satisfy myself as to
what valid reason I had for my panic let algivegive a reason why
he should be excused from Ops to escort me. All I knew was that a
black cloud had crept over the horizon with Chakotay's departure.
It had grown to thunderhead proportions when I had learnt of his
destination and now it was settling down like a bad omen,
smothering my breath and obscuring my vision with its pregnant
promise of menace and storms to come.

I felt faint and nauseous by the time we were
finally relieved. With usual tact

Harry did not mention the tight drawn whiteness
of my face. He chattered his usual cheerful banter but his hand
rested briefly on my shoulder in the turbolift and he squeezed
softly. I could feel a whole universe of love in that brief touch
and for a moment the dark clouds lifted a little only to crash
back down with a vengeance as I approached the door to Chakotay's
quarters.

For a moment I was seized by the insane belief
that the door codes would have been changed to prevent my
entrance. A brief but compelling image struck me of Chakotay
arranging for me to be moved back to sickbay without warning. I
was not even aware of holding my breath with dread until the
doors whooshed open politely and the chair propelled me inside.
At the sight that met my terrified eyes, I fainted.

It wasn't a very dramatic faint. After all I
was firmly strapped into my chair with a brace holding my neck
and head in an upright position. I simply lost consciousness for
a moment and came to as Chakotay lightly slapped my cheeks. I
heard his voice crying "Tom, Tom, are you okay?" as
though it was from a great distance and it was only as he was
hitting his comm-badge for medical assistance that I managed to
speak.

"I'm fine, Chakotay. I was just
...surprised!"

"Are you sure, babe? You look really
pale."

"Just shock." I stated with a
question in my voice

Chakotay graced me with a quick shy smile, his
cheeks creasing into the dimples that I loved. The dimples that
had been absent from our relationship for as long as the romance.

"I wanted to surprise you, not scare you
to death" he muttered in an abashed voice. "I thought
you would like it."

"I do!" I reassured him as I looked
around the candlelit room. The table had been lain with fine
linen and sparkling glasses. A full decanter of wine sparkled
golden in the flickering yellow of a dozen small flames. A
portable holo-emitter had created the illusion of a roaring
fireplace. A huge vase of yellow long-stemmed roses overflowed
the mantelpiece. In the background the muted sound of an old
favourite song "La vie en rose" played softly around
the crackle and snap of the burning logs.

As tears burned down my cheeks Chakotay snapped
the head of a rose and gently placed it behind my left ear.

"I'm sorry" he murmured softly

"Sorry for what?"

"For forgetting how precious you are. For
failing to show you just how much I love you. For taking you for
granted. For forgetting that the simple things like romance are
so important. For being a middle aged fool."

"Please don't let this be a dream" I
whispered, too dazed to even know I had spoken the thought aloud
until Chakotay moaned in pain as if my words had struck an arrow
in his heart.

"Tom, please tell me you still love me.
Tell me it's not too late" he begged

"When the galaxy ends, when all life is
extinguished and not even an atom remains, my love for you will
still be alive, Chakotay. You are everything to me. You are the
only reason I live and breathe. I love you." I murmured then
ruined my poetic speech with the snide addition of "But
sometimes I don't like you very much."

I felt myself flinch inside as I heard the
bitter words escape my own tongue and I sobbed with the
realisation that yet again I had ruined everything.

But Chakotay just laughed self-depreciatingly
at my comment. "I don't blame you, babe, I don't like myself
sometimes. I hate the way I've been treating you. I have been so
wrapped up in my own misery that I haven't seen things clearly
until now. But I promise you that I've changed. "

"So what's different now?" I sniffed
suspiciously

"I think the easiest way to answer that is
to show you." He replied softly and stepped forwards to
touch my wet face.

As he ran the very tips of his fingers down my
cheeks in a slow caress, his blunt nails gently scraped my fine
evening stubble and a frission of electricity charged down each
hair follicle until my whole face tingled with anticipation.

With his other hand, Chakotay stroked my throat
with a touch that was so light it was almost painful in its
tenderness and I whimpered helplessly under his ministrations.

I felt my eyes roll and glaze as his soft brown
gaze searched my own and swallowed me whole. I gulped at the
flickering embers that were reflected in his irises. The burning
fire of his arousal singed me even as I was being simultaneously
frozen by a combination of my own fear and desire.

I saw his tongue snake out to lightly moisten
his lips and then finally he bent his head forwards to kiss me.

For just an instant his lips hovered teasingly
over mine and then his mouth dipped unexpectedly downwards and I
suddenly felt the hot moist caress of his tongue on my chin. With
unbearable slowness he licked a wet path along the line of my jaw
until he reached my earlobe.

For a brief moment he let my mouth tremble with
anticipation and then I felt his teeth close gently on the fleshy
nub and begin to knead and chew even as he blew hot breath from
down his nostrils right into the depths of my ear.

I groaned in response to the almost unbearable
pleasure. It was not simply due to the stimulation of the
multiple simultaneous sensations on my cheeks, throat and ear but
the incredibly erotic delicacy of Chakotay's feather-light touch.


He was handling me as though I were made of
precious porcelain, fragile and irreplaceably valuable. Any
doubts that I still harbored about his sincerity were being
eroded by the way he was worshipping my face with his tiny loving
licks and bites.

Suddenly it became difficult to catch my breath
in the midst of the moans and gasps that were being forced out of
my throat. I had a sudden almost welcome thought that I might die
like this, killed by my inability to control my response to my
first sexual experience in over a year. I was floating on a wave
of bliss and it wouldn't matter if I died in that very moment
since I couldn't possibly feel any better.

The stupidity of that thought became
immediately apparent as the hand that had been stroking my throat
slipped down between my thighs and the bliss became ecstasy.

Because of the necessity of keeping my body
tissue stimulated, the seat of my chair was fitted with a gently
tilting massaging action under my butt which had the result of
making my useless cock stand permanently at attention. For the
first time I was grateful for the embarrassing bulge as
Chakotay's hand closed gently through the fabric of my pants to
caress my groin.

His large thumb found the very tip of my cock
and began to rub it around the catheter tube with firm almost
abrasive strokes as his fingers squeezed and released my shaft in
synchronous rhythm. I cannot describe the wonderfulness of the
sensation. I could feel every movement of his hand as it kneaded
and his thumb as it scraped. Each touch felt like a tiny jolt of
electrical current that surged through my brain as though I had
been struck by tiny bolts of lightening.

Yet at the same time I could only feel these
things from the outside, almost as though it was I doing the
touching. My brain was ordering my cock to erupt its pleasure. I
could feel the need to arch my back into the caress. My mind
screamed its need to shudder and shake my whole body in reaction.
But the signals were refused entry by my traitorous body and I
could only gasp helplessly, as I was overwhelmed.

I felt his hands leave my lap and I groaned
with disappointment

"Don't stop, please don't stop" I
begged shamelessly.

"Shush, babe, I couldn't stop now even if
you wanted me to" Chakotay hissed in my ear and I moaned
with pleasure at his deliciously evil comment.

I realised that he was releasing the brace that
held my head. As the strap slackened around my forehead my head
tilted forwards to expose the back of my neck. With a triumphant
slurp Chakotay latched his mouth onto the long curly tendrils of
my untrimmed hair. Nipping and sucking he teased the nape of my
neck. I squealed as he pulled and chewed at strands of my hair.

His hands dropped down to open my trousers and
I gasped as my penis was exposed to the relative chill of the
air. Without ceasing his vampiric attack on my neck, Chakotay
gently inserted his thumbnail into my slit and scraped gently.
The sensation traveled down the catheter and for the first time
in so very long I could feel sensation inside my cock.

"Ohhhhhhh" I groaned and the sound
galvanized him into action. He dropped swiftly to his knees and
nuzzled between my thighs. My chin was resting on my chest so I
could see his dark head delving for delight in my lap. I felt his
wet tongue slide up my shaft until he reached my ball-sac and
then he proceeded to suck and chew. One by one he rolled my balls
slowly in his mouth.

"Oh god," I squealed "don't
stop"

He looked up and met my eyes with a mischievous
glint

"Do you like that, babe?" he purred

"Oh yes. Oh God yes" I gasped

"What about this?" he asked and took
the skin of my scrotum between his teeth and nipped sharply.

"Ayyyyyyyeeeeeee" I screamed

He reared back sharply and looked at me in
concern

"Did I hurt you, Babe?"

"Yes..No...I don't know.... Do it
again!" I gasped and with a feral grin he complied.

Soon we established that my most erogenous zone
was actually the skin of my inner thighs and Chakotay took a
great delight in comparing the different sounds he could make me
create as he nibbled and licked and sucked. He played me with the
skill of a virtuoso until I was gasping for breath like a fish
out of water.

Then he turned his languid eyes at me and I
shivered deliciously at the lustful glint in his eyes as he
purred "Shall we take this to the bedroom?"

And I could only nod in desperate approval of
his plan.

 

Go
To Part 23