Chapter Text
Kathryn assumes that it’s Chakotay’s turn to unsubtly invite her to the holodeck, but after two weeks with nothing, she starts to wonder. Which is the opposite of what this is supposed to be—something darkly enjoyable, a thought to turn over in her head when she’s on the bridge and staring out at the tenth hour of quiet space. Finally she gets impatient and, on a day when nothing is happening, summons the filthiest memory—the way he gasped as she increased the size of the dildo in his ass, that first time—and looks over at him. She lets the heat show in her eyes and he stares back at her, until his pupils dilate and he clears his throat. He leaves the bridge and fifteen minutes later, returns and hands Kathryn a padd. “Captain, I have the holodeck logs for the past week, if you’d like to review them.” He’s breathing a little quickly.
“Of course. Thank you, Chakotay.” She scrolls through it almost unseeing until she finds what she’s looking for—and has to smile. There’s no reason he should know, but Captain’s Classic Personal Program #42 has a special place in her heart. He’s reserved 0400 hours, the earliest time that was still available, and her breathing speeds up a little. She catches his eye again and offers the tiniest nod, and he breaks into a wide smile that has no place on the bridge of Voyager.
She replicates something and slips it into her pocket before walking to the holodeck. Chakotay is standing outside this time and she can’t help a little laugh at that, a gentle one, so he doesn’t think she’s mocking him. “You had to pick 0400? Do you know how many cups of coffee I had to drink?”
“Don’t pretend you would have been asleep,” he says. They walk through the doors and onto the campus of Starfleet Academy. Kathryn feels the twinge she knew she would at the sight of it, the Golden Gate Bridge mostly shrouded in fog, the cool wet air on her face. They’re in cadet uniforms, bags slung over their shoulders. Everyone is in class—the campus isn’t deserted by any means, but there are only a few people wandering around. It’s too cool a day for many students to be lounging or studying outside, at least not the humans.
“Did you guess?”
“What, that you programmed some part of this one?” Chakotay smiles sheepishly. “I had an inkling.”
“I didn’t help write all of them,” Kathryn clarifies. “I had a roommate. After I got back from the Arias expedition and was put on mandatory leave—she wrote for Captain’s Classic. I just…helped sometimes.”
He nods toward the big tree. “Did you used to study there too?”
“I studied inside,” Kathryn says. “Where it was dry and there was good lighting.”
Chakotay shakes his head and leads them toward it. Kathryn’s familiar with it—particularly its role in this program—even if she wasn’t one of its devotees. “It’s so big that if you sit in just the right place, it blocks out all the other noise.”
“Which part of the scenario did you program me into?”
He looks startled. “I didn’t program you in at all. I only had time to select this one.” Kathryn’s gut clenches a little and she realizes she’s violated one of the cardinal rules—she looked at the program he’d chosen, without any justification that he was abusing the holodeck rules. “It’s all right,” he adds. “I like you knowing. You can look—even if you don’t plan to join in.”
She should be more worried about the violation of privacy, but there’s something deep inside her that likes his offer very much. “All right. Since we’re at the tree—” It’s about ten minutes until passing period, when the quad will be filled with students and teachers and visitors. “Undress,” she tells him.
“Can I kiss you first?”
The question throws her off balance, and she pulls him into a kiss before she can think better of it. Before she pushes him away, she bites his lip just hard enough that it’ll swell a little, just enough that she’ll be able to see it. “Now take your clothes off.” Chakotay looks around them. No one is paying attention, but she can see his hesitance. “Or can you not do it,” and she says it flatly, enough to convey a little disappointment in him.
He strips off his shirt defiantly, then pulls off his shoes and his pants. He’s already getting hard, even as she sees the goosebumps on his skin from the chilly air, and she pulls something out of her pocket. “Put it on,” she tells him.
Chakotay holds the cock ring in his hand for a moment, turns it over to feel the shape of it. This one is bigger, with one hole to slide his cock through and another for his balls, and when he puts it on he’ll be—displayed. She wonders if he notices that it’s adjustable—probably not, he’ll assume it’s just one of the many things that the holodeck creates. “All right,” he says, and just watching him put it on is a treat, the way his chest tightens a little, the long breath that he lets out. He’s fully hard by the end, especially when she reaches out to check it, runs her hand over his balls where the skin is drawn tight, fists her hand around his cock and gives him two long strokes. He pushes into it and she takes her hand away.
They stand there for a moment as she admires it. Then Kathryn pulls a folded blanket out of her bag and sets it on the ground between the roots of the tree. She sits down on it, tests for comfort, and then leans back against the tree. She has a very nice view from here, and she almost regrets it when she says, “Now put your pants back on.”
“What?” She sees the disbelief on his face.
Kathryn sprawls a little more comfortably, lets her knees fall open. She wonders when he’ll think it’s odd that she’s wearing the women’s cadet uniform instead of pants—but he probably has other things on his mind. “I told you to put your pants back on,” she tells him, with enough steel in her voice that he starts to obey almost automatically. He winces a little when he tucks himself back into his underwear, gasps and presses into his own hand when he fastens his pants, and then stands there. “Good,” she says. “Now get down here.”
He half-sits, half-kneels awkwardly in front of her, and that’s when her uniform seems to register—the skirt, the knee-high boots, and then very rapidly the fact that she’s not wearing underwear. “Kathryn—”
“See if you can guess what I want.” She puts a hand on the back of his neck and urges him down, just in case, as she lifts her skirt a little higher.
He’s so good at this, the way he just goes, the way he spreads her open and puts the tip of his tongue to her clit, and that first touch of his tongue shoots through her. She grabs his hair and pulls it, feels his groan vibrate against her and pulls his hair again, urging him closer.
The end-of-class bell rings and people flood out of the buildings, talking so animatedly that the noise reaches them even here behind the tree. Chakotay starts to pull back and she holds him there, says “Don’t stop, you’re doing so well,” as he lets out a hot breath across her clit and dives back in. Two students approach, apparently intent on studying under the tree, and she knows Chakotay hears them too from the way his tongue stutters. “Don’t stop,” she tells him again, and she grins recklessly at the students. One of them looks horrified and the other one gives her a thumbs-up before they both walk away. Chakotay slides a finger inside her easily and she clenches tight on it, says “Another,” and he adds a second finger as a group of four more students walk by.
“Hot,” the leader of the group says, and stands there watching, murmuring to her friends.
Chakotay hears them, scissors his fingers a little to make Kathryn moan, takes her clit very delicately between his teeth and sucks on it, and that’s when she comes, crying out. “God you’re so good, you’re perfect,” she tells him, all in between deep breaths, and he really is. Chakotay sits back, carefully not looking at their audience. His lips are glistening and he’s still hard in his uniform, shifting a little back and forth as though that’ll be enough. He starts to withdraw his fingers and Kathryn says, “No.”
“No,” he repeats. He’s very hoarse.
“I’m not done,” she tells him. She holds his gaze until he realizes—it doesn’t take long—and he looks around, blushing.
“There are people here!”
Kathryn laughs. “They’re holodeck characters, not people, Chakotay. I told you I’m not done. Do you need to stop?
“No.” Of course not.
“Then get back to work.”
“Yes, Captain,” he says, and he leans down again.
Kathryn spreads her legs wider, wanton, and cants her hips up a little. The passing-period bell sounds again and the people dissipate. She sees some of the tension dissipate from his shoulders and wonders if he chose this program for any reason other thank his belief that she was involved. School programs are designed for public sex, for getting caught. But then he bends in further, lifts her legs over his shoulders, goes slow and steady this time—almost too slow, every time she urges him faster he slows down a little, and it keeps letting the pressure inside her release just a little, keeps her from reaching that perfect tipping point. “I’ll make you come,” he says against her clit, “but I’ll take my time.” Then he licks just a little, just enough to make the point and no more.
“Maybe I won’t let you come at all,” she muses. “I saw it through your uniform, you’re still hard—the ring will keep you that way. How many times do you think you’ll have to make me come, before I allow you to?” Chakotay groans and she feels him shiver, just before he speeds up again, and that groan is what tips her, what makes her thrust up against his face and clench her legs tight around his neck. This time he only pulls back for a second before he returns, just enough to let her recover from it, and she says “Good boy” without thinking about it. “Good,” she adds, and she loosens her grip on him again—even as her body is still shaking from the last time—and strokes his hair, the shell of his ear, the shape of his cheekbone very gently. “Now give me more.”
She’s so highly sensitized that when he pushes a third finger inside her, it sets her off again—she grabs his wrist, fucks herself through it on his fingers while his mouth keeps working, and she doesn’t know how many more times she can do this but she’s greedy for it, for the feeling itself and for the way he just obeys, the way he’s aching hard in his pants but just keeps going as long as she tells him to. “Don’t stop unless I tell you to,” she says, and she’s dripping wet, his fingers thick inside her, his mouth and hand must both be going numb but he obeys until one orgasm bleeds into the next, until she’s not even sure which way is up, and she finally tells him, “Stop.”
Chakotay does, pulling his fingers out of her gently, sitting back on his heels. He smooths her skirt back into place. He looks wrecked, his hair in disarray, eyes dark and lips a little swollen. He wipes his face on his bare arm.
“Good.” She’s too blissful to sit up further, but she beckons him to lie next to her, lean his head against her chest so that she can pet his hair while she regains some amount of equilibrium. He’s not exactly humping her leg but every so often he twitches against her, hard, wanting. “Let me see.” He sits up enough to unfasten his pants and pull his underwear down, enough that she can see the lovely shape of him again. The tip of his cock is messy and she slides her thumb through it, watches his cock jump and licks her thumb clean. “Good,” she says again. She rises to her knees experimentally and, when she’s confirmed that her legs will hold her, stands up.
He’s still kneeling there in front of her, underwear bunched beneath his exposed cock and balls, and he lets his head fall forward against her thigh and says, “Kathryn, please.”
“Stand up.” When he obeys, she carefully arranges his underwear back in place over his strangled whine, fastens his pants. The shape of his hard cock distorts the cloth and it’s gorgeous. “You want to come?”
“Please,” he says again.
“Computer, end program.” They’re back in their normal clothes again, his uniform neatly in place, but—
He gasps when the program ends and he’s still held tight. “You replicated a real—”
Kathryn drags her knuckles over the front of his pants. She’s losing her mind. That’s the only explanation for it. “You would walk out of the holodeck like this if I told you to,” she says, and it isn’t a question. The noise he makes in his throat answers it anyway. Insanity grips her. “Do it. Go to your quarters and wait. Don’t touch your cock.”
“Kathryn—” There’s a plea in his voice, something begging but also wondering. They’ve never done this before, never done anything outside the holodeck but told each other what time they would be meeting. This violates all of that. But she can’t bring herself to take it back, not when she can see him spread out on a bed like this, in reality, wearing something that won’t just vanish when one of them ends the program.
“You’re lucky I don’t send you to the bridge,” and who is this person inside her talking? “I’d let you carry something in front of you to hide it, but you’d know, sitting there, desperate to come, and everyone around you would know that something was different about you.” His noise shoots straight to her clit, despite how many times she’s come. “Go to your quarters and wait. Don’t touch your cock.”
“How long?” he asks.
“Until I say you can. Now go.”
He walks to the doors slowly and pulls off his uniform jacket so that he can hold it in front of himself. She can see his chest heaving beneath his undershirt. With a last look, he leaves the holodeck.
Kathryn doesn’t keep him waiting long. She doesn’t have the patience for it, not when she wants to watch him fall apart further. He’s only been alone in his quarters for maybe five minutes, just enough for him to think about exactly what she told him not to do and what she didn’t say.
“Good, you understood.” He’s naked on his bed, working a finger into his ass.
“You said—not to touch my cock,” he pants. “Not anywhere—else.”
“It’s dangerous to give me ideas. What if I really did make you wear a plug around the ship?” God, it would kill her to know that. She’d end up riding his face in her ready room. From the color high on his cheeks, he knows it too.
“If you told me to, I would,” and every time he says things like that she just wants. She walks to the bed, reaches down and takes a firm hold of his cock and he cries out, tries to thrust in her hand. His skin is so hot beneath her fingers. She pushes him onto his back and leans in—but diverts, lifts his trapped balls and sucks one into her mouth, and he says “Kathryn, please—anything—please, I’ll do anything, just let me—” She releases it, sucks the other one into her mouth and just holds it there, feeling him shake, watching him claw at his mattress. She releases it with a wet kind of pop and he shudders, twists his body, like he’s losing all control—all but what she’s ordered him to keep. Kathryn pins his hips down and grasps his cock again, guides it to her lips, and she’s not cruel, not usually, so she sucks him fast, wet and messy.
His begging isn’t even words anymore, just desperate noises, until she finds the catch that releases the entire device and it falls away and he comes just as she pulls off and says “Come.” His entire body shakes, eyes blind and hand still working his cock as though he can’t quite believe it, pulsing with every shockwave, until his chest is messy with it and his hand slows.
“You did so well,” Kathryn says, and she curls next to him on the disastrous bed. “I can’t believe you did it.” He shivers when she touches his face, so she pets his hair again instead, just running her fingers across the softness of it.
“I think I’m dead.” Chakotay is very hoarse. “I think you killed me.”
Kathryn doesn’t want to leave the bed, so she passes him the half-full glass of water from his bedside table and says, “Drink.” He drains it and gives the empty glass back to her. They lie on the bed like that for a long time—too long, Kathryn thinks, when Chakotay moves and grimaces at the sticky mess on his body. “You should take a shower,” she tells him.
He smiles wryly. “Yes, I think so too.” He moves slowly getting out of bed, as though he doesn’t quite have control over his limbs. He hesitates, then says, “You could stay. Shift starts in three hours anyway.”
She’s going to be wrecked. Usually she manages more than three hours of sleep. “I should go.” The thought of getting out of this bed is anathema. “I’m just—going to close my eyes—until you get out of the shower. Then go back.”
“Of course, Captain.” She can hear the amusement in his voice. “Computer, lights out.”