Title: Man On A Mission
Author: Ky (venom69)
Fandom: Star Trek: Voyager
Rating: ADULT
Summary: Yup. He was a man on a mission.
Character/Pairing: Janeway/Chakotay
Spoilers: None... the show’s ended!
Warnings: Language, adult themes, sex.
Author’s Notes: Song belongs to Billy Gillman. This is a sequel to Cravings, as requested.
Disclaimer: Usual guff. Not mine, promise to put them back where I found them.
Date: 28/08/08

***

An accidental touch
Never meant so much
Makes me realize that we're not close enough

***

It had all been going so very well for him and, in retrospect, Chakotay thought that, perhaps, that alone should have been the first clue of impending disaster.

He'd always had a little fantasy that played out in his mind - one of many, he admitted - where Kathryn would finally be open to discussing the idea of a relationship between them.

And, in said fantasy, he'd be ready to articulately present her with the facts and let her make an informed decision; something the scientist in her would appreciate. He would tell her, without emotion or pressure or bias, that Starfleet was a long way away. He would tell her that they were both professional adults that could handle a working and romantic relationship. He would tell her that the crew would support them. He would tell her that earth wouldn't stop orbiting the sun - not that they'd know about it right away, regardless - and the Ship wouldn't blow up if they ever got naked together.

Only, that had almost been the case, and that really did not work for his argument.

She'd come into his Quarters and calmly informed him that she wanted to suck his... no, he couldn't even think it without his stomach doing a little 'flop.'

He hadn't really had a chance to say no - not that he actually would have, really - before she'd fallen to her knees and promptly sucked his mind out of his body.

After she'd finished and he'd caught his breath and remembered how to think coherently again, he'd pulled her onto his lap and promptly told her that it was his turn. He'd had all sorts of thoughts on the various delicious things he could do to her lithe little body and, really, he'd had a few years to be creative.

If the grin that had spread across her features had been anything to go by, then she'd had a thought or two about it as well.

They'd made quick work of her uniform jacket - and she'd been naked beneath it, god help him - and his hand had been raised to cup her breast, just shy of touching her creamy skin or stiff peak but still close enough to feel the heat radiating from her, when the klaxons had gone off.

Typical.

For one terribly short moment, he'd been able to read the disappointment and frustration that flashed in her eyes, before she’d reverted back to the woman in charge, shrugging back into her jacket even as she called the bridge for a report.

They'd made it to the Bridge and, though Chakotay wasn't quite sure how, he’d managed to keep his hands off her the whole time they were alone in the turbolift, even though he was still tingling from the feel of her lips around him.

Even so, he'd been determined to show her that he could maintain their working relationship despite the fact that he'd come down her throat not half an hour before she had to stand on the bridge with her hands on her hips and her chin tilted - and by god did she know how hot that was? - and try to convince the alien of the week not to blow them to high hell.

Chakotay was fairly certain that he'd managed to do a good job of it, too.

Apparently, Voyager's mere presence in the sector had 'desecrated the spirituality' of the region - which was reason enough to shoot them, according to the locals - and Kathryn had been forced to spend half an hour negotiating their safe passage through the heavily populated space that the aliens of the week laid claim to.

She'd done it, of course, as she always did. But this time she'd done it without appearing to be aware of exactly how much of her negotiations he'd spent staring at her ass.

Not that he could be blamed for that, really; he was only human.

It was bad enough that, when she'd made the offer of sucking his... well, sucking him, he'd gaped at her like a moron. It was bad enough that she was too damn good at making him lose his mind with, apparently, very little effort on her part - not that it was really a bad thing for him, though - but to have her do it and then be faced with a crisis before he could reciprocate? That sucked. A lot.

Not to mention that he hadn't even got to kiss her.

Surely that entitled him to spending half an hour staring at her ass and wondering if she was wearing any panties or not.

He thought so.

Regardless, it had now been three days since the… uh, ‘incident’ - must not think it, must not think it - and he hadn’t had a chance to talk to her at all.

Though she’d negotiated with the aliens of the week relatively easy, they’d still been repairing the damage from the initial attack. According to B’Elanna, one of the ‘warning’ shots that had been fired had gotten lucky and done some damage to the Warp core.

Chakotay hadn’t actually understood all of the technobabble that had flown around the post-attack meeting - and with Kathryn and B’Elanna finishing each others sentences, it had only been ten times harder to follow - but he knew that there’d been a lot of work involving Jeffries tubes, scraped knees and replacing this and that’s.

Kathryn, being one of the better engineers on the ship, had been heavily involved in the repairs and he’d barely seen her since.

But now he’d OK’d the report that said that Voyager was running smoothly again, he’d waited an appropriate amount of time for Kathryn to get a good night’s sleep - ‘good’ being about half the normal recommended time, he knew - and he’d waited until they’d passed out of the alien’s space before he seriously contemplated making a move.

He hadn’t really considered that he should just let it go, treat it as a nice - really nice - experience and move on. His brain - though, perhaps, more his hormones - had already made it perfectly clear that he was a walking bundle of testosterone around her and it was time to get a little of his own back.

The two brief times he’d seen her in the last few days had left him semi-hard. And he thought it was pretty damn impressive to get semi-hard while joking over the latest concoction to come out of Neelix’s kitchen. Either she was just that hot or he’d suddenly developed a real fondness for Leola root.

He really hoped it was the former, for obvious reasons.

Because, for all of his gentlemanly thoughts of letting her slip away discreetly, there was no way in heaven, hell, the spirit world or any other kind of place he was letting that one go. No way.

Yup. He was a man on a mission.

And his mission was, namely, to give his Captain oral sex.

He thought it was a pretty good mission to have. His only problem, thus far, was that he wasn’t sure how to go about it. He didn’t think he had the hide to do what she had done and simply state his intention before going to town. He needed something new, something original, something that he could do on his own. There was no way she’d forgive him for sending around any kind of general memo requesting ideas on how to get her pants off.

Not that he hadn’t considered that before.

Chakotay had, in all fairness, put quite a great deal of thought into this particular mission. His first consideration had been to do it her way, but he’d dismissed that as unoriginal. His second thought had involved having her pants beamed into space, but that would have required the help or the transporter operator and/or the knowledge of how to falsify logs. He figured he was in enough trouble with Starfleet as it was, no need to set himself up for perjury, too. He’d thought about just waiting in her bathtub one evening, but he’d quickly seen fault with that idea, too. Not only would he have had to make sure she was actually going to leave the bridge on time - a rarity at the best of times - but he would also have needed to ensure that she didn’t have anything else planned for the evening.

Of course, there was also the risk that she’d throw him out for being too familiar.

Sigh.

So many variable, so little patience.

He could have “accidentally” spilt something on her pants one night during dinner. Of course, she may well have slapped him, received third degree burns, or gone back to her own quarters to change and he still would have been left with a hard-on and a sense of defeat. He’d briefly considered a game of strip poker, but aside from the fact that he couldn’t envision her wanting to play that with him - yet - it was hardly a great game for two players. And she was likely to be a shark at that, too.

Chakotay had considered ‘tripping’ the replicator so that the next time she called for more pants, they’d be a size too small. Aside from the fact that he would have had a great view that day, they would have ripped eventually and she would have been exposed to his hungry mouth. Of course, he would have needed to work really fast to get her to come before she killed him. He wasn’t sure he had that much faith in his own ability.

He could resurrect the dangerous Maquis that she’d met all of those years ago, but then he’d run the risk of her laughing at him. Or his leather pants wouldn’t fit. It had been a while and he’d been over-indulging lately.

Despite the necessity to wait a few days before he could return the favor, he’d also needed the time to plan. And, for his three days of thinking - and, maybe, pushing himself a step closer to carpel tunnel syndrome in the hand - he’d come up with nothing.

Not a damn thing.

She had been the master of creativity less than a week ago with her approach to getting his pants off and, thus far, he hadn’t come up with anything better.

In a moment that he would later call an epiphany of epic proportions, Chakotay almost shook himself; the only thing stopping himself from giving her oral sex was his apparent lack of creativity?

Was he nuts?

He tapped his comm. badge. “Chakotay to Kathryn.”

”Kathryn here.”

“Are you free?”

”I’m just finishing up some reports.”

“Fancy dinner? I’m hungry.”

”I can be there in five.”

“See you soon.”

She said five, but she was there in three. Still fully dressed in uniform and slightly disheveled, but she was there and that was all that mattered at this point.

“I’d like you to take your pants off.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Pardon?”

“I’m returning the favor. Take your pants off.”

“I-“

“Now.”

“Okay.”

Wow. That had been easier that he’d thought.

She didn’t hesitate as she unzipped her pants. Before she pulled them down, she paused and looked up at him.

“I’m not kidding,” He promised, “Pants. Off.”

With a little shrug to herself, Kathryn pulled her pants down before she toed her boots off and kicked all of the material away.

She was left standing in a very small pair of black silk panties that made him drool just a little more than was strictly manly. Chakotay moved until they were standing just a few inches apart before he rested both hands on her hips. He could feel the soft material and, when he moved his fingers just a little lower, he was met with creamy smooth skin.

He sighed, quietly. The feeling of her sweet skin, combined with the mildly nervous look on her beautiful face was making it difficult to think.

“You’re beautiful.”

She flushed, slightly. “Thank you.”

Chakotay held her gaze as he pushed her panties down, letting her wiggle them to her feet before she stepped out of them and kicked them away. He didn't look down. Instead, he kept eye contact, hoping his eyes would quell any doubts or nervousness she might have. Once they were off, though, he was focused only on his mission.

“Now sit.”

She followed his order - and that was one for the record books all on its own, his intentions notwithstanding - and, once she was comfortable, he pushed her knees apart and moved until he was sat comfortably between them, eyeing the wet flesh at the apex of her thighs.

Chakotay let out a long, slow breath as he looked over her, taking in everything he could see and smell. He moved his palms over her thighs slowly, letting her get used to his touch. Though his motives weren’t entirely selfless - he was certainly enjoying the feel of her - he felt her relax a little, after a few moments of gentle caresses.

With every stroke, he moved closer and closer to the delicate pink flesh, until his thumb sat in the crease of her groin, fingers spread across her lower belly. Her pubic mound was covered with soft curls and he moved towards them as slowly as he could.

He held her thighs firmly open, spreading her soft lips. He told himself that slow was best and he told himself that he wanted to enjoy this, but the temptation was far too strong for any of that crap. In one quick movement, he buried his face between her creamy thighs and set his mouth to work.

With the tip of his tongue, he traced the inner and outer lips, savoring the errant drops of moisture. He teased around her opening, testing the spongy tissue as it protested against his entry before she relaxed and let him wiggle his tongue inside of her, filling his senses with everything Kathryn.

His nose bumped against her clit and she gasped, jumping a little. He ignored the reaction and licked a path up to the hood of her clit, before he licked around the bundle of nerves and ignored her frustrated sighs. Chakotay teased and tasted her, licking her wetness and humming his pleasure against her soft flesh.

He’d been imagining her like this - and in varying other positions, too - for so long now. He had no intention of bringing her anywhere near her release until he’d gotten his fill of her. So many nights spent wondering what she’d taste like, what she’d smell like, how the softness of her thighs would feel against his slightly rough cheek. Now he was going to enjoy that, her needs be damned.

“God, please." Her breath hitched when he gently introduced his teeth to her clit. "Chakotay, please.”

Well, when she put it like that…

He wrapped his lips around her clit and sucked as hard as he thought she could handle, increasing the pressure until every little cry she made sounded like one of deliciously wicked torture that bordered on pain. His fingers circled her opening before he pushed two into her and let her fuck herself on his hand, her hips moving in a rhythm that worked for her, pushing herself closer and closer to the edge of oblivion.

Chakotay could hear her rapid breathing and she moved steadily like that until her movements became jerky and he pulled his mouth away from her clit, replacing his tongue with his thumb, to watch her fall to pieces.

She let out a sound that may have been words, but was more than likely just a sound of bliss, and he could feel her muscles contracting around his hand. He wished more than anything that he was inside her right now, feeling her orgasm around him, but watching was a pretty good substitute.

He kept his fingers inside of her, his thumb pressed against her clit, as he watched her come down, her breathing erratic, sweat pooling on her forehead. He suspected that her breasts and belly were damp, too, but they remained covered by her uniform and that just made the whole thing hotter. He wanted to make her come again, but he suspected that would make him come in his pants, too.

“You OK?”

Her eyes remained closed and she huffed slightly. “Oh yeah.”

He kissed her clit once, sweetly, and she jumped, still too sensitive. He muttered an apology before running his hands along her bare thighs, caressing the warm flesh as she sat, slumped and sated.

"I want to make you do that again," he told her earnestly, just so there was no confusion that that was more than 'returning the favor.'

"Maybe we should try for both at the same?"

Chakotay smiled. "I like the way you think."

***

End