Eternal Flame
Michelle Perry

It came as a surprise, even to me, when waiting finally became intolerable. I'd been hungry for him from the moment I walked into his Tactical Strategy class, and he'd given me that smile that said, "I don't even care that the first time I met you, you were drooling on the floor like a loser, and I really wasn't just blowing patriotic smoke at that table. I know. You're Special."

Inappropriate, really, lusting after your instructor. Most people would have thought that I'd look at Captain Pike like a second father. In fact, most people did assume as much. They thought it was cute how I always wanted to be in Pike's classes. How I seemed to want to impress the captain with my grades, and how determined I was to keep to my flippant promise and graduate in three years. It was amusing to me. I had a father, and even though he died before I got to meet him, I knew so much about him I felt like I knew him personally. My mother told me everything she remembered about him, and of course, there was the public record. With a father as awesome as George S. Kirk, who could need a surrogate?

The assumption didn't bother me, though. If it kept people from thinking Pike was taking advantage of me, or that my grades weren't earned one hundred percent, then it wasn't exactly a bad thing. Even Pike seemed to feel that way - stringent in class, but indulgent and kind to me off "duty", just like a man might be to his son. Hell, even Bones was clueless, and that was interesting, considering he'd caught me jacking off in our quarters one day, and I could have sworn I'd been whispering something about "yes, Captain, yes." Thank God for good timing, I guess.

Then came the Kobayashi Maru, and things got thoroughly fucked. Pike was furious with me, and I could have sworn he got some kind of glee out of shunting me through the airlock. But I made it up to him. Can't exactly stay mad at the guy who saves you from being used as a tool to destroy everything you love, can you?

Crisis averted, universe saved, and I went from "no-good cheater" to "savior" in the course of a day. But I wasn't satisfied. Not yet.

And then, there was more waiting. Waiting for the two things I wanted most in the world to be ready for me - the United Space Ship Enterprise (NCC-1701), and Admiral Christopher Pike. There was nothing I could do about The Enterprise. I'd sworn to leave it to Scotty, and I was going to be true to my word. But the Admiral was another story. I was in his face every day - encouraging him, waiting outside during surgeries, hanging around during check-ups, participating in physical therapy sessions.

People still thought it was cute. Nobody recognized the fire that was burning inside me. Nobody understood. Pike appreciated my presence, and he always told me how grateful he was, and how I didn't have to spend my time on Earth "babysitting" him, but I wouldn't have had it any other way. I needed to be near him, like I need to fucking breathe. I felt withdrawal symptoms when I was forced to be away from him - nervousness, irritability, difficulty concentrating. Crew assignments, Starfleet meetings and all that other shit be damned, if anything conflicted with Pike's sessions, I ignored it and went to support my man.

Waiting was getting harder.

When he took those first hesitant steps on his own, we cried. I mean, everybody. Me, Pike, Bones, Hayes the orderly, everybody. I embraced him, and we cried some more and it was fucking beautiful. But when I got home, I was on fire again. All I could think about was the feel of him in my arms, his body, warm and firm, and trembling slightly from exertion, and emotion, and oh fuck.

Had to change my pants.

It happened three days after I'd helped move him back into his home, a few miles from campus. I got him settled in, and he invited me to stay for dinner. Fuck yeah! "Sure, Chris, that'd be nice, thanks."

I ordered for us from the Italian place he'd told me he'd been missing. Bones is a fucking slave driver when it comes to diet and its effect on healing. We gorged ourselves on pizza and soda (even on a semi-binge, neither of us thought booze would be good for him just yet), and he watched some sitcom while I watched him. Maybe it was the sugar. Maybe it was a full moon. Who the fuck knows? But when he stood up carefully from his wheelchair and insisted that he would clear the stuff away, the fire flared, and ignoring it or shoving it down it was just too much.

I watched him gather the empty pizza box and some of the soda cans, and carefully walk to the kitchen. I stood up and followed him, not even bothering to pick up the other three cans and try to make it legit. He was surprised when he turned around from the recycler and I was right there behind him. He smiled. "I'm fine, you know."

"I know," I said. The smile on his face faltered just a little, and I took a step toward him. "I can't do this anymore," I said.

He was confused. "Jim?"

"I've waited long enough." I covered the remaining distance between us in about two steps and took hold of his arms. He gaped at me in shock, and tried to pull away. "Mmm-mm," I said, shaking my head and holding him tighter.

He tried to pull away again, a bemused smile on his face. "Jim, what... what are you-"

"Shhhhh," I whispered. "Shhh, just let it happen, Chris." I pulled him closer to me, leaned close to his face, barely an inch from him. God how I wanted those lips.

"Jim." His voice was shaky - his body trembled just a little, and I could feel the heat coiling up in my middle. "I... I d-didn't know you felt..."

"Well, I do. I want you, Christopher."

He shook his head slightly, and his eyes went wide with surprise. "Jim, I... how can you want... I'm weak. You've seen me... crying over being stuck in that chair, and... and screaming from nightmares, I..."

"None of that makes you weak, Chris," I told him.

He shook his head again. "Jim, I'm just-"

"Don't you dare! You're not just anything, you hear me? You're the strongest, bravest, most beautiful- You're EVERYTHING!" He winced, and I loosened my grip and pulled him into a tight embrace. "I'm sorry, baby, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you."

"'S'okay," he said. His voice sounded thick, like he might be trying not to cry. "I just... had no idea. I thought-"

"I know," I whispered, pulling him tighter - sliding my fingers into his soft, beautiful hair, and rubbing him gently. "My fault, I should have told you, but I didn't want anybody questioning you. But I just don't give a fuck anymore. I want you, Chris. I need you." I pulled away, and gripped his arms again so I could look him in the eye. "Do you want me?"


"Do. You. Want. Me."

He was still trembling, but his hesitant little nod ignited the heat in my middle and made it explode. It was like winning the fucking lottery of life. I growled, a low sound that came from the center of that fire inside me. "RrrrrrrrrRRRRRRRRRRRR!" My hands gripped his casual t-shirt at the collar and ripped it in two. The admiral cried out in shock, but his surprise only served to fan the flames. I picked him up bodily by his hips and rested him on my own, guidingg his legs behind me. He wrapped his legs around my waist, and I supported him with both arms while I licked hungrily at his chest. I felt him rest his hands on my shoulders. He was laughing and gasping, and his body was shaking like a leaf, and I felt my arms tightening reflexively around him. My head was swimming, and I knew if I took him in the kitchen, I would hurt him. Too many hard surfaces. I gripped him tight and looked into his eyes. "Bed. NOW."

Chris took a couple of shallow breaths, his face and chest reddening, then nodded. I refused to put him down. I carried him to the master bedroom, where I'd carefully made his bed earlier, and dreamed about shoving him down on top of it. He was still shaking, and I knew his back was sensitive, so I didn't throw him down onto the bed like I wanted to. I laid him down, carefully, keeping my hands on him the whole time. I ripped away the rest of his t-shirt and pressed him down with one hand while I worked to unclasp his pants with one hand.

I couldn't get them all the way down without letting go, and I had this irrational fear that he would escape, or disappear, or I would wake up, but Chris seemed to understand. He shifted his legs, trying to kick out of the pants. I knew he needed me, so I risked letting him go and gave him what he needed. I stood up and undressed him, then yanked off my own pants, briefs and shirt and threw them violently away from me.

I came back to him and slid my hands up his legs, which were getting stronger and stronger, but which still seemed almost frail and delicate to me. He shuddered under my touch, and I growled again. I knelt over him, pressing my legs tightly against his sides just in case. Chris gave me a look of pure need, and I could barely take it. He reached up and touched my chest, stroking me and clutching at me like he couldn't get enough. I leaned in, pressed his shoulders down possessively, and pressed my lips to his. Chris let me in immediately, and I searched him, gently but insistently, feeling myself get hard in response to his plaintive whimpering, and his eager hands clutching at my back.

When I felt like I could possibly survive releasing his delicious mouth, I got to work on his neck, claiming every inch of the sensitive skin, clutching him tightly as he bucked urgently against me. The whimpers turned into cries ofecstasyy, then to sobs, and still I sucked and licked and nibbled him. "Please," he cried at last. "Please, Jim, please, please!"

"Okay, baby," I whispered, moving down, kissing his chest as I went. "Shhhhh, it's okay." He clutched wildly at me, still pleading and sobbing. "It's okay." I couldn't bear to torture him, so I made my way down to where his fully formed erection waited for me, and took him deep into my mouth. He screamed, and his body shuddered violently. I sucked him hungrily, but I'd only managed two deep pulls before he came, still screaming and clutching at me, digging his fingers into my shoulders.

I swallowed him down, then looked up and smiled at him. He lay there, panting, tears staining his cheeks, limbs trembling. "I… I'm s-sor-"

"Ah-ah," I said, shaking my head. "Shhhh. What're you apologizing for?"

"So f-fast," he said, through hitching breaths.

"That doesn't matter," I said. "I made you feel good. I made you mine. That's all I wanted."

"But..." He glanced in the direction of my still-throbbing erection. I shook my head. Much as I wanted to press deep inside him and fuck him to an even deeper level of senselessness, I knew he wouldn't be able to handle that yet, and I didn't want to hurt him. I took his hand and gently guided it down to me. He grasped me firmly, even though his arm was trembling from exhaustion. It didn't take much. The sight of him, trembling, and sweating, and panting, and belonging to me was enough to bring me to climax with one fucking squeeze.

I cried out with the release, grabbing him to me, and taking another demanding, searching kiss. "See?" I asked. "You're not the only one who's fast."

He laughed, and wrapped his arms around me. "Guess I don't have to feel bad?"

"No, you don't," I said, pressing him to me briefly. "I told you, you're mine now. We've got all the time in the world to work our way up to marathons. Or not. Whatever, the point is, I have you now. No more waiting, no more worrying about what people will think about us. You're finally mine!"

Chris' eyes widened slightly, but he smiled, and his fingers played absently in my hair. "I… th-think you might be just… a little bit crazy," he said, still panting.

"Maybe," I replied. "But that's why you chose me, right? Didn't you say Starfleet needed a little crazy?"

"I guess I did," he said. "Guess I needed a little crazy, too. You've been nothing but good for me since the day I met you."

I smiled and squeezed him to me before he could see my eyes getting misty. "Same here, baby. Same here."


Star Trek Fic
Fic Masterlist

Comment at LiveJournal