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Apr. 3rd, 2013 01:43 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
keepurshirtonltBetween Halloween and the arrival of a certain Starfleet captain, Trip and Freddie drink away island antics and disappearances. And drinking leads to a more physical release.
It was the weekend Trixa’s casino was open and Trip was taking a twenty from dealing cards. Well, it was more like he was done for the night but it was still a break and there was still time to enjoy the atmosphere. And the bar.
And there was a spot right beside the guy who’d been campaigning ironically for Anatoly. After ordering a drink, he turned to the guy, whose name he realized he didn’t remember, if he’d gotten it at all. “Havin’ fun?” Trip asked once he had his drink, raised in greeting to the man.
“Oh, absolutely. Of course, cards isn’t my game of choice, but it’s amusing watching people pretend to know what they’re doing.” He’d seen it a lot over the years, especially when he was first emerging onto the chess scene. People who thought they knew how to play and were promptly thrashed by either Freddie or another person who actually knew that chess involved strategy and not just randomly moving pieces around.
“And I have yet to find a game of chess that you can gamble on.”
Not that there hadn’t been gambling going on in the background, but it was hardly fair to gamble on yourself when you knew you were going to win.
“Is chess really all you can think about?” Trip asked with a wary look, one eyebrow raised as he took a long drink. Sure, he’d been accused of being single-minded when it came to his engines but he certainly didn’t think he was this bad. “It’s just a game, ya know. There are more things to life.”
Then he shurgged. “I don’t know. I’ve seen chess be gambled on. When Malcolm and Travis would play in the mess hall, it was almost a spectator sport.” Trip had to laugh for a moment. “Granted, that could be because we were stuck in a flying tin can for months on end but still.”
“Other people can bet on chess, but the two people playing? Much harder.” He shrugged a little at the comment about the game. “It’s the only thing I can really count on. People? They suck. They leave you over and over again, especially here, and those are only the ones you gave a damn about.”
And that was just something he didn’t want to think about. He took a long swallow of his drink and shrugged. “Besides, it’s what I know best. I’ve played it for years.”
Trip’s eyebrows raised. Clearly there were some issues here, especially given the stress on people leaving. He nodded to the bar tender in indication that they would need another round. “I’m guessing someone disappeared on ya recently?” He asked offhandedly, so the guy didn’t have to answer if he didn’t want to besides the obvious yes or no.
Chess seemed to be the safer subject anyway. “As a hobby or are ya a pro like Anatoly?”
“Oh, of course you know him,” Freddie said, answering the one question so he could ignore the other. “I’m not sure there’s anyone on this damn island who doesn’t know him. I wouldn’t call him a professional anything other than asshole, but yes. I used to play professionally. I was even world champion for a little while. Until he took over.”
He looked at the glass, the new glass and then back at the guy. “Looking to get me drunk? I should say that I don’t put out on the first drink.”
“Ya know I’m his neighbor. Remember, I told ya back when I caught ya campaigning for him?” Trip was beginning to wonder how much this guy had had already. “And he must be pretty good if he beat you,” he pointed out cheekily.
Then Trip chuckled as he downed his glass and took his own new one. “In my experience on the island, when someone starts talking about disappearances, it never hurts to have another drink handy.” He nudged the new drink closer.
“Right. That was you.” Freddie waved a hand. He really hadn’t paid attention to the person he’d been talking to although now that he thought about it, he realized how he’d known the face. He’d taken it as granted that they’d met somewhere because the same could be said for half of the island. Even if he was a bit of a hermit since Prior leaving, he still saw people out in the dining room or in the kitchen or even just traveling to and from the Compound.
“If you’re giving me this because of disappearances, you might as well grab the whole bottle.” Still, once he was finished with his current drink, he reached for the new one.
“Smooth ignoring of the come-on, though.”
“Who said I was ignoring it?” Trip said with a cheesy wink before chuckling as the drink was accepted. “I was just being honest. I was going to bring up the come-on a little later, if you still seemed up for it.”
“Oh, I’ll be up.” He nodded at the card table. “You still on duty? Because I can always flirt with the dealer.” Not that he was likely to win. He didn’t like games that relied more on luck than on skill. The only skill in cards was the ability to read your opponents and he had never cared for that sort of thing. He supposed he could learn to count cards.
“You can flirt with the dealer but I’m done for the night. I was just gettin’ a drink before headin’ home.” Trip had never really liked gambling either. Wasn’t very good at it. He just liked dealing the cards and talking to people while they played. It was the people aspect he liked.
“I’ll just have to flirt with the ex-dealer, then.” To be honest, Freddie wasn’t sure what he was doing, but the more he thought about it, the less he wanted to be alone for at least a part of the night. If he was alone, it would mean he would have to deal with his own thoughts and the less that happened, the better in his opinion. He’d been thinking in circles for far too long. It was time for some action. Of the non-bruising variety. Or at least of the non-attack variety.
“Pick up strange men at bars often?”
“Been known to a time or two.” One thing about the island, it was nice to know there were only two options: Male or Female. No have to worry about species or thieves with holographic technology. Just some nice simple fun. “You flirt with card dealers as often as ya campaign for people ya hate?”
“Oh, I flirt with everyone.” He didn’t amend that statement to include the people he hated. He did sometimes flirt with the people he hated, though he did it his own way. The way that usually ended in bruises. Maybe it was fucked up, but it was his way. “But there’s a large difference between flirting with someone and taking them home.”
Actually there wasn’t, especially now, but the guy didn’t need to know that.
“So you know what I do. What do you do around here?”
“Sounds like we have a common hobby,” Trip said with a grin. Alien or human, it was amazing how people relaxed with a little flirting. It certainly never hurt diplomacy and when it did, T’Pol and Cap’n were usually around to smooth it over. “Though the taking them home never hurts either.”
“Besides deal cards? Lately just a lot of drinking and diving. Considering I’m an engineer by trade, there ain’t much for me to do.” Honestly, there were many times when Trip was just bored.
“I would have thought with all of the technology on the island, you’d find something to do. That shield over at New Atlantis for one,” Freddie pointed out. Not that he knew what kind of thing was really interesting for an engineer. Didn’t they fix things? There were probably all kinds of things all over the island that needed fixing.
“Although I have to say that the idea of you covered in a bit of grease is appealing.”
“You now how many science types they got taking care of that thing?” Trip said with a raised eyebrow. “It’s like, taking turns just to touch it. I don’t want to work that badly.” And it was true. There seemed to be engineers and scientists everywhere. He missed being Chief Engineer of Enterprise sure but not enough to baby every bit of advanced technology he could find. “And the only piece of technology I really wanna get a look at is the ship that’s crashed on the beach but I respect the guy who owns too much to poke around.” Trip did genuinely like Malcolm and he knew better then to mess with someone else’s ship.
“Didn’t think gettin’ yer hands dirty would be appealing to a chess player,” He said with pleasant surprise.
“I’m nothing but dirty.” Freddie grinned a little. “Besides, if you don’t think chess players get dirty, you don’t know much about chess. It’s the miniaturization of war. It’s all about plots and backstabbing and digging around in the mud to get a better position. If you ever want to get in the mud with me, all you have to do is let me know.” A beat. “I’m talking, of course, of chess.” Of course he was.
Trip thought about this description of chess for a good long moment before he grinned. “Hell, no wonder Malcolm likes it so much.” But then he looked back to Freddie and smirked. “You sure ‘bout that? Talkin’ about chess I mean?”
“Oh, I was absolutely talking about chess.” A beat. “But that doesn’t mean there aren’t other things that my dirtiness can apply to. I am known for being absolutely filthy when I’m of a mind.” It was harder to be filthy here when there was nothing but trees outside and no dark alleys you could screw against. You had to worry about protecting the children.
But there were also many empty huts and out of the way places. Trip had gotten good at finding them when needed. “Really.” He took a long drink from his glass with a grin. “I think I’d be interested in seeing just how dirty a chess player can get. See if they get as dirty as engineers.”
“Oh, please,” Freddie said with a wave of his hand. “You’re stuck inside your machines all day. I’ve been to some of the more outlandish places in the world.” He leaned in closer and lowered his voice conspiratorially. “Do you know what the men and women in Bangkok can do? It’s positively distracting.” He curled a couple of fingers in Trip’s shirt and pulled him closer. “Bet you could use a distraction.”
“Oh, I bet I’ve been to a few places that could give Bangkok a run for it’s money.” Risa for one, that station with the butterfly women another and those were just the first two places in the universe that came to mind. But then, Trip had never said he was a starship engineer. He let Freddie pull him in, his grin turning into a smirk. “But I won’t say no to distraction. Of any kind.” After all, the only real distraction he knew about Risa involved gender changing aliens, underwear and bondage. And not in the good way.
“Promises, promises.” He finished his drink and slid to the ground. “Now the question is whether you’ll live up to your promises.” He gave Trip a lingering look before heading to the exit. He fully expected to hear the accompanying footfalls behind him at any moment and he kept his eyes out for some kind of empty hut or even just a spot where they could go deeper into the jungle.
Trip threw back the rest of his drink and with a comment to the bartender to tell Trixa or Luthor that he was done for the night, he followed him out. He took the lead, knowing of an empty nearby that he knew Kate kept stocked for just such an occasion. As he took the guy’s arm and pulled him inside, he said with a smirk, “My momma always told me, all good southern boys keep their promises.” And he proceeded to demonstrate by kissing him, using it to explain that promise in detail.
“Bet your momma didn’t imagine promises like these,” Freddie murmured before promptly shoving him back against the nearest wall. That way, he was able to get enough leverage to slide a leg between Trip’s. It was one of those kinds of nights as demonstrated by the fact that he didn’t even know what hut they were in. Just that it wasn’t his. It was also demonstrated by the way he was practically devouring Trip’s mouth. He wanted everything and he wanted it now.
If she did, Trip certainly didn’t want to know. As it was, he was much happier to concentrate on pushing back against Freddie so they were touching as much as physically possible. He wanted this just as badly. Taking advantage of the leg between his, he cocked his hips so they rubbed obscenely against Freddie’s, searching for the right angle to get the most friction. He hope they’d get beyond the wall but right now this felt fan-fucking-tastic.
One of the first things Freddie did after Trip had so nicely pressed their hips together was start pushing up his shirt. It meant that they had to stop kissing, but it also meant that once the shirt was off, he was able to run his hands along smooth muscle. He wasn't ripped, but he was definitely fit and Freddie definitely appreciated it. Lean lines instead of curves. It was what he needed at the moment.
"Care to help me with this?" He moved his hips. "Or are you too focused on other things?"
It was hard to get ripped in space. Despite all the time they had for weight lifting, they often preferred to spend the gym time on cardio or self-defense. It came in handy during those away mission when they ended up running for their lives or to the next disaster onboard. Still, when Trip used the pause in kissing to remove Freddie’s shirt as well, he was pleasantly surprised by the body he found. Starfleet was one thing but chess wasn’t exactly athletic.
Chuckling low in his throat, Trip moved his hands to Freddie’s pants, starting to undo them. “I think I can focus on other things.”
It was the weekend Trixa’s casino was open and Trip was taking a twenty from dealing cards. Well, it was more like he was done for the night but it was still a break and there was still time to enjoy the atmosphere. And the bar.
And there was a spot right beside the guy who’d been campaigning ironically for Anatoly. After ordering a drink, he turned to the guy, whose name he realized he didn’t remember, if he’d gotten it at all. “Havin’ fun?” Trip asked once he had his drink, raised in greeting to the man.
“Oh, absolutely. Of course, cards isn’t my game of choice, but it’s amusing watching people pretend to know what they’re doing.” He’d seen it a lot over the years, especially when he was first emerging onto the chess scene. People who thought they knew how to play and were promptly thrashed by either Freddie or another person who actually knew that chess involved strategy and not just randomly moving pieces around.
“And I have yet to find a game of chess that you can gamble on.”
Not that there hadn’t been gambling going on in the background, but it was hardly fair to gamble on yourself when you knew you were going to win.
“Is chess really all you can think about?” Trip asked with a wary look, one eyebrow raised as he took a long drink. Sure, he’d been accused of being single-minded when it came to his engines but he certainly didn’t think he was this bad. “It’s just a game, ya know. There are more things to life.”
Then he shurgged. “I don’t know. I’ve seen chess be gambled on. When Malcolm and Travis would play in the mess hall, it was almost a spectator sport.” Trip had to laugh for a moment. “Granted, that could be because we were stuck in a flying tin can for months on end but still.”
“Other people can bet on chess, but the two people playing? Much harder.” He shrugged a little at the comment about the game. “It’s the only thing I can really count on. People? They suck. They leave you over and over again, especially here, and those are only the ones you gave a damn about.”
And that was just something he didn’t want to think about. He took a long swallow of his drink and shrugged. “Besides, it’s what I know best. I’ve played it for years.”
Trip’s eyebrows raised. Clearly there were some issues here, especially given the stress on people leaving. He nodded to the bar tender in indication that they would need another round. “I’m guessing someone disappeared on ya recently?” He asked offhandedly, so the guy didn’t have to answer if he didn’t want to besides the obvious yes or no.
Chess seemed to be the safer subject anyway. “As a hobby or are ya a pro like Anatoly?”
“Oh, of course you know him,” Freddie said, answering the one question so he could ignore the other. “I’m not sure there’s anyone on this damn island who doesn’t know him. I wouldn’t call him a professional anything other than asshole, but yes. I used to play professionally. I was even world champion for a little while. Until he took over.”
He looked at the glass, the new glass and then back at the guy. “Looking to get me drunk? I should say that I don’t put out on the first drink.”
“Ya know I’m his neighbor. Remember, I told ya back when I caught ya campaigning for him?” Trip was beginning to wonder how much this guy had had already. “And he must be pretty good if he beat you,” he pointed out cheekily.
Then Trip chuckled as he downed his glass and took his own new one. “In my experience on the island, when someone starts talking about disappearances, it never hurts to have another drink handy.” He nudged the new drink closer.
“Right. That was you.” Freddie waved a hand. He really hadn’t paid attention to the person he’d been talking to although now that he thought about it, he realized how he’d known the face. He’d taken it as granted that they’d met somewhere because the same could be said for half of the island. Even if he was a bit of a hermit since Prior leaving, he still saw people out in the dining room or in the kitchen or even just traveling to and from the Compound.
“If you’re giving me this because of disappearances, you might as well grab the whole bottle.” Still, once he was finished with his current drink, he reached for the new one.
“Smooth ignoring of the come-on, though.”
“Who said I was ignoring it?” Trip said with a cheesy wink before chuckling as the drink was accepted. “I was just being honest. I was going to bring up the come-on a little later, if you still seemed up for it.”
“Oh, I’ll be up.” He nodded at the card table. “You still on duty? Because I can always flirt with the dealer.” Not that he was likely to win. He didn’t like games that relied more on luck than on skill. The only skill in cards was the ability to read your opponents and he had never cared for that sort of thing. He supposed he could learn to count cards.
“You can flirt with the dealer but I’m done for the night. I was just gettin’ a drink before headin’ home.” Trip had never really liked gambling either. Wasn’t very good at it. He just liked dealing the cards and talking to people while they played. It was the people aspect he liked.
“I’ll just have to flirt with the ex-dealer, then.” To be honest, Freddie wasn’t sure what he was doing, but the more he thought about it, the less he wanted to be alone for at least a part of the night. If he was alone, it would mean he would have to deal with his own thoughts and the less that happened, the better in his opinion. He’d been thinking in circles for far too long. It was time for some action. Of the non-bruising variety. Or at least of the non-attack variety.
“Pick up strange men at bars often?”
“Been known to a time or two.” One thing about the island, it was nice to know there were only two options: Male or Female. No have to worry about species or thieves with holographic technology. Just some nice simple fun. “You flirt with card dealers as often as ya campaign for people ya hate?”
“Oh, I flirt with everyone.” He didn’t amend that statement to include the people he hated. He did sometimes flirt with the people he hated, though he did it his own way. The way that usually ended in bruises. Maybe it was fucked up, but it was his way. “But there’s a large difference between flirting with someone and taking them home.”
Actually there wasn’t, especially now, but the guy didn’t need to know that.
“So you know what I do. What do you do around here?”
“Sounds like we have a common hobby,” Trip said with a grin. Alien or human, it was amazing how people relaxed with a little flirting. It certainly never hurt diplomacy and when it did, T’Pol and Cap’n were usually around to smooth it over. “Though the taking them home never hurts either.”
“Besides deal cards? Lately just a lot of drinking and diving. Considering I’m an engineer by trade, there ain’t much for me to do.” Honestly, there were many times when Trip was just bored.
“I would have thought with all of the technology on the island, you’d find something to do. That shield over at New Atlantis for one,” Freddie pointed out. Not that he knew what kind of thing was really interesting for an engineer. Didn’t they fix things? There were probably all kinds of things all over the island that needed fixing.
“Although I have to say that the idea of you covered in a bit of grease is appealing.”
“You now how many science types they got taking care of that thing?” Trip said with a raised eyebrow. “It’s like, taking turns just to touch it. I don’t want to work that badly.” And it was true. There seemed to be engineers and scientists everywhere. He missed being Chief Engineer of Enterprise sure but not enough to baby every bit of advanced technology he could find. “And the only piece of technology I really wanna get a look at is the ship that’s crashed on the beach but I respect the guy who owns too much to poke around.” Trip did genuinely like Malcolm and he knew better then to mess with someone else’s ship.
“Didn’t think gettin’ yer hands dirty would be appealing to a chess player,” He said with pleasant surprise.
“I’m nothing but dirty.” Freddie grinned a little. “Besides, if you don’t think chess players get dirty, you don’t know much about chess. It’s the miniaturization of war. It’s all about plots and backstabbing and digging around in the mud to get a better position. If you ever want to get in the mud with me, all you have to do is let me know.” A beat. “I’m talking, of course, of chess.” Of course he was.
Trip thought about this description of chess for a good long moment before he grinned. “Hell, no wonder Malcolm likes it so much.” But then he looked back to Freddie and smirked. “You sure ‘bout that? Talkin’ about chess I mean?”
“Oh, I was absolutely talking about chess.” A beat. “But that doesn’t mean there aren’t other things that my dirtiness can apply to. I am known for being absolutely filthy when I’m of a mind.” It was harder to be filthy here when there was nothing but trees outside and no dark alleys you could screw against. You had to worry about protecting the children.
But there were also many empty huts and out of the way places. Trip had gotten good at finding them when needed. “Really.” He took a long drink from his glass with a grin. “I think I’d be interested in seeing just how dirty a chess player can get. See if they get as dirty as engineers.”
“Oh, please,” Freddie said with a wave of his hand. “You’re stuck inside your machines all day. I’ve been to some of the more outlandish places in the world.” He leaned in closer and lowered his voice conspiratorially. “Do you know what the men and women in Bangkok can do? It’s positively distracting.” He curled a couple of fingers in Trip’s shirt and pulled him closer. “Bet you could use a distraction.”
“Oh, I bet I’ve been to a few places that could give Bangkok a run for it’s money.” Risa for one, that station with the butterfly women another and those were just the first two places in the universe that came to mind. But then, Trip had never said he was a starship engineer. He let Freddie pull him in, his grin turning into a smirk. “But I won’t say no to distraction. Of any kind.” After all, the only real distraction he knew about Risa involved gender changing aliens, underwear and bondage. And not in the good way.
“Promises, promises.” He finished his drink and slid to the ground. “Now the question is whether you’ll live up to your promises.” He gave Trip a lingering look before heading to the exit. He fully expected to hear the accompanying footfalls behind him at any moment and he kept his eyes out for some kind of empty hut or even just a spot where they could go deeper into the jungle.
Trip threw back the rest of his drink and with a comment to the bartender to tell Trixa or Luthor that he was done for the night, he followed him out. He took the lead, knowing of an empty nearby that he knew Kate kept stocked for just such an occasion. As he took the guy’s arm and pulled him inside, he said with a smirk, “My momma always told me, all good southern boys keep their promises.” And he proceeded to demonstrate by kissing him, using it to explain that promise in detail.
“Bet your momma didn’t imagine promises like these,” Freddie murmured before promptly shoving him back against the nearest wall. That way, he was able to get enough leverage to slide a leg between Trip’s. It was one of those kinds of nights as demonstrated by the fact that he didn’t even know what hut they were in. Just that it wasn’t his. It was also demonstrated by the way he was practically devouring Trip’s mouth. He wanted everything and he wanted it now.
If she did, Trip certainly didn’t want to know. As it was, he was much happier to concentrate on pushing back against Freddie so they were touching as much as physically possible. He wanted this just as badly. Taking advantage of the leg between his, he cocked his hips so they rubbed obscenely against Freddie’s, searching for the right angle to get the most friction. He hope they’d get beyond the wall but right now this felt fan-fucking-tastic.
One of the first things Freddie did after Trip had so nicely pressed their hips together was start pushing up his shirt. It meant that they had to stop kissing, but it also meant that once the shirt was off, he was able to run his hands along smooth muscle. He wasn't ripped, but he was definitely fit and Freddie definitely appreciated it. Lean lines instead of curves. It was what he needed at the moment.
"Care to help me with this?" He moved his hips. "Or are you too focused on other things?"
It was hard to get ripped in space. Despite all the time they had for weight lifting, they often preferred to spend the gym time on cardio or self-defense. It came in handy during those away mission when they ended up running for their lives or to the next disaster onboard. Still, when Trip used the pause in kissing to remove Freddie’s shirt as well, he was pleasantly surprised by the body he found. Starfleet was one thing but chess wasn’t exactly athletic.
Chuckling low in his throat, Trip moved his hands to Freddie’s pants, starting to undo them. “I think I can focus on other things.”