Chapter Text
Kathryn lies in bed that night and thinks to herself, no, it’s all right. Nothing has been done that can’t be undone. One slip-up, one—encounter—outside the holodeck, that’s forgivable. No more. “Computer, schedule Captain’s Classics Personal Program #25 for first available holodeck timeslot,” she says.
“Earliest available is in twenty-six hours at 0400,” the computer tells her. “Select timeslot?”
“Confirmed.” She’s too tired to bother with even the most rudimentary of pretenses, just sends Chakotay a message on her padd that says Your turn to review holodeck schedule, drops the padd onto the bedside table, and is asleep in minutes.
* * * * *
He joins her in the holodeck at 0400. They’ve interacted entirely normally for the past twenty-six hours, not counting the six spent asleep, and this is why it’s so important to keep things contained on the holodeck, so that it’s easy to maintain the mental separation. “What are we doing today?” He smiles at her too easily.
She hasn’t started the program yet. “The program will cause—intoxication, but you can stop it at any time,” she tells him. “Even now, if you prefer.”
Have his eyes always been so hot when he looks at her? “I trust you,” he says. “Whatever you want.”
“And what if I want—” She doesn’t have a noun planned for the end of that sentence.
“I don’t think you want to hurt me,” he says, and she knows what he means by hurt. Damage might be a better word. “So I trust whatever you want.”
It’s intoxicating to hear. Even though he trusts her every day with his life, it’s different here. “Computer, begin program.”
They’re on an alien planet, the sky a sharp blue, in a field of red-stemmed grasses and what look like dandelions with purple pappi scattering in the slightest breeze. A ways away, there’s a shuttle, and they’re both still dressed like themselves. Kathryn has a botanical tricorder on her belt where a phaser would usually go. The air is thick with pollen, visible in the sunlight.
Chakotay sways a little. He stumbles forward a few steps toward her and grabs her by the waist, pulls her close against him. “Something in the air,” he says, and inhales deeply.
Kathryn doesn’t pull away, but she uses the tricorder to tell her exactly what she already knows. “Pollen in the air,” she tells him. She puts the tricorder away. “It might—affect our behavior.” She can feel it already, the molasses kind of way that it spreads through her body, the way that her skin suddenly feels hypersensitized, so that every time Chakotay touches her—every time the calluses on his fingers catch the slightest bit on her skin—it goes straight through her like an electric shock.
He doesn’t fight it—of course not, why would either of them fight it—just traces one finger down the bridge of her nose, under each of her eyes, along her jawline and then to her lips. Every touch leaves tiny visible sparks in its wake, the slightest afterimages dazzling her eyes. He strokes the softness of her throat, leans down and kisses just below her jawbone, and she’d forgotten how overwhelming this program is, how intensely it magnifies every sensation.
His uniform unravels beneath her fingers as she slides them down his chest, falling away like bits of burning paper to reveal his bare skin. When she licks the hollow at the base of his throat, he gasps and she sees the impression of her tongue left in slowly fading light. Her hand leaves a print that stays a little longer, and he stares down at it. Then he dissolves her clothing with his hands—first the uniform itself, then her bra beneath it with a firm grasp, even as she drags her own hands around his waist and down his thighs, until they’re both naked. The world tilts on its axis and they’re on the ground, strangely soft beneath them.
Chakotay sits at her feet and slowly kisses his way up her body, putting his mouth on every inch of her, from the bony jut of her ankle, up the insides of her thighs. His mouth is soft and bright and the pure sensation is overwhelming in the best way, so good that it crawls up and down her spine searching for some escape, on and on. It feels almost chaste—comparatively, at least—except for the one brief moment when he spreads her legs a little wider and touches just the tip of his tongue to her clit, just for a second. She sees the sparks that it leaves on the tip of his tongue—then on the flat of his tongue when he wets it and licks. It’s only once but it makes her shiver all over, even as he proceeds up further, kisses across the shape of her abdomen, up her ribcage and then each breast just below the nipple. She’s not—writhing, not exactly, but she can’t keep still as he advances. “Chakotay,” she breathes, when he flicks his tongue across her nipple. Light flickers in the empty air where his tongue was, and she arches up toward him. He hesitates and it’s too long, she grips his arms and rolls them over.
His eyes are wide as he stares up at her, and when she squeezes his biceps his breath catches. Her fingers leave shining impressions on his skin when she releases him and braces her body above him. Kathryn kisses the shell of his ear, down along his neck, until she reaches the right place and sets her teeth into skin, sucks at it—and all the while, sways back and forth above him so that her nipples slide against his chest hair. He groans and brings one hand to the back of her head, holding her in place, and then takes her nipple between two fingers of his other hand. She sucks harder and he pinches her nipple a little harder and all she can see is sparkling light now. She wants his cock in her, can feel the head slipping back and forth against her clit, dipping almost inside her—and this moment could last eternally, unbearable with anticipation as it is. She finally lifts her mouth from the messy mark she’s left, light flowing in to cover it, and Chakotay releases her nipple and urges her upward so he can suck gently at it. She’s too far up his body to slide onto his cock, but he puts three fingers inside her all at once and she comes instantly, caught between the stretch of his fingers and the sweet pressure of his tongue.
He pulls his slippery fingers out and she can’t, she’s never been so desperate to get him back inside her. His cock is thick and solid when she guides it inside her, and they both make a noise she’s never heard before, a kind of keening desperation. “Kathryn—” Chakotay tries to grab her hip and his slick fingers slip across her skin. She rocks in the cradle of his hips, on the edge of frantic, to get him deeper. He rolls them then and the motion pushes his cock further inside her—they both gasp and the pollen swirls around them as they grasp at each other.
When Chakotay comes, he thrusts hard and she wraps her legs around his waist to hold him in place as he pulses. She doesn’t release him—he stares at her wide-eyed as they both feel him harden again inside her. There are things Kathryn wants him to do—fill her with his fingers and eat her out until she comes again—but she doesn’t want him to slide out, doesn’t want that absence for the briefest moment. He buries his face against her shoulder and cries out as she clenches around him, gasps in a shaky breath when she urges him on with her heels, and their bodies move together, sinuous. There’s golden light soaking their skin as she comes again, almost violently.
While she’s still shuddering around him, Chakotay lifts her legs to rest on his shoulders, and like this he can snap his hips and get even deeper with every thrust. He stares at her body, her face, as he does, like some kind of—revelation, and this time when he comes the entire world goes white around them.
They come back to reality—holo-reality—as a warm wind blows, sweeping the pollen from the air around them. Kathryn untangles herself from Chakotay, delicious shivers still running through her body, and sits up slowly. There’s a pond nearby, full of crystal turquoise water, and she walks there on unsteady legs as her head begins to clear a little. Chakotay follows, a little slower, until they’re both shoulder-deep in the water. “That was—incredible,” Chakotay says, the first words of sense that either of them has uttered since the program began.
“It’s a good program,” Kathryn agrees. She doesn’t want to see the pinprick of disappointment in his eyes at her answer, so she pulls him into a kiss again—the pollen may be gone, but she has the excuse of still being in the holodeck. Chakotay opens his mouth to her kiss, wraps his arms around her, and they stand there in the water kissing for what seems like an eternity—or until the holodeck announces, “Five minutes remaining in program,” and Kathryn pulls back.
“Computer,” she says, and Chakotay looks regretful. “Restore clothing and end program.”
They are, abruptly, back in their uniforms in a very sterile holodeck. They’re only a few inches apart. Kathryn can’t let herself kiss him again, but she reaches her hand up to stroke his cheek once before she leaves the holodeck.