Love To Hate You

"Tea, Darjeeling, hot!" The dispenser hissed into action and Lieutenant Malcolm Reed took the glass with the hot liquid and sat down at one of the tables.

It was way past midnight and, except for the armory of course, at this hour the mess hall was his favorite place to be. He could be sure to be alone, the only person that might run into him being Subcommander T'Pol and the Vulcan science officer was always careful not to disturb the quiet of the room.

Tonight he desperately needed some rest. The day had been full of fighting and shouting. Malcolm felt his heart racing as he thought of the confrontation with Commander Tucker.

That blond bastard was driving him nuts! The chief engineer of the NX-01 had been questioning Malcolm's decisions about the new security protocol and the matters concerning the modifications of the power management all day long and they had roared at each other more than once during those disagreements.

The Brit tried to relax and started to grin sardonically as he remembered the last part of their argument.

At the end of the shift Captain Jonathan Archer had finally stepped into action to separate them. Already expecting that the CO of Enterprise would most definitely go with his best friend's opinion Malcolm had been surprised to hear that their superior agreed with his point of view. It had been a kick in the butt to see the triumphal grin on Trip's lips die away.

The tactical officer sipped the last of his tea and decided to head back to his quarters. Suddenly he felt much more at ease.

* * *

Commander Charles Tucker III paced up and down the narrow catwalks. The members of the crew that were part of the gamma shift eyed him curiously but he really didn't care.

Sleep was light-years away due to the fact that his brain was working overtime in order to sort out everything that had happened. The surroundings of Engineering and the sound of the warp engine that normally were able to soothe him immediately had no effect on him tonight.

"ARGH!!!" He kicked one of the boxes standing in his way. A crewman nearby ducked deeper into the set of relays she was working on. Trip didn't even notice.

What did this dark haired son of an English bitch think he was doing? Giving technical advise to the captain? Thinking that he knew better than the best engineer Star Fleet had to offer?

And all the while, even though they had kept on screaming at each other for hours, the Brit had stayed so damn cool! No wrinkles in his uniform, not one strand of hair out off line, not one single bead of sweat visible, while Trip knew that his face was flushed, his hair a total mess and his uniform stained with perspiration.

And worst of all? What did the cap'n do? He went along with Malcolm's recommendations!

"DAMN!!!" The young Southerner was really pissed. He wouldn't forget that taunting look on the lieutenant's face for quite some time.

"Oh, shoot! Maybe a bottle of beer will help to cool me down!" One last punch at one of the walls and off he went to the mess hall, to the relief of the other engineers.

* * *

Malcolm pushed the button and the door slid aside. He stepped into the corridor ... and was immediately pushed back into the room by another crew member storming blindly into the mess hall, totally oblivious of the lieutenant.

"What the hell ...?" The Brit rubbed his bruised shoulder.

"Jeez, can't ya ...!" Trip stared at the tactical officer. "Oh no! Not YOU!"

Malcolm's tranquility disappeared at once. "Great, just when I thought I had banished you from my mind, Mr Tucker!"

The blond Southerner clenched his teeth. "I would prefer banishin' ya from this ship, Mr Reed!"

They stood only inches apart, their acid breaths palpable on their faces.

"Do you have a problem with me, Commander?"

Trip's blue eyes sparkled furiously. "Yeah, ya could sure say that, Lieutenant!"

And off he went, scolding Malcolm once more, yelling at him, ranting on about the disagreements they had had earlier.

To his own astonishment Enterprise's security expert grew totally calm and observed every movement of his ranking officer. He noticed the blond hair, damp and in disarray, the vein at the commander's neck that pumped the blood rapidly through the well-trained body, the bare skin of the sweaty chest that was visible due to some buttons the chief engineer had undone in his temper.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Trip raising his hand as if to knock him out. He gripped the wrist, twisted the arm to the side and planted a skillful kiss on the Southerner's mouth, who kept on babbling for a few seconds until he realized what was happening.

After a few more seconds of total surprise Tucker kissed back feverishly, and now it was Malcolm's turn to be puzzled.

The two men backed away, staring at each other.

"What did ya do that for?" Trip wanted to know, touching his own lips with his fingers as if wanting to know if they were still there.

Reed glared at him. "I just couldn't bare to listen to you anymore!"

The Southerner's indigo eyes widened. "And ya find no better way to make me stop than to kiss me?"

Malcolm could hear the blood rushing in his ears. "You kissed me back!"

"Did not!"

"Did, too!"

Tucker shook his head. "No way, I didn't! Why the hell would I wanna kiss ya?"

The Brit's heart almost burst inside his chest. "How the hell should I know? It has taken me month trying to figure you out, Mr Tucker, and now ..."

He wasn't able to end his sentence because Trip had groped around him and had pulled him into a tight embrace by tugging at the hair at the back of his neck.

Their lips and tongues fought, just like the two men had done verbally only moments before.

Malcolm found himself being pushed against a nearby table. He heard the sound of glass breaking as the blond Southerner wiped the empty tea mug off the counter, his lips never leaving the Brit's.

The lieutenant's fingers fumbled with the zipper of the commander's uniform and eventually he was able to yank it down. He didn't lose another second and unbuttoned the black uniform shirt.

Trip wasn't idle either. Malcolm felt one hand on his butt, squeezing tightly. With his other hand the chief engineer was busy to gain access to Malcolm's muscular pectorals.

The dark haired man broke contact with the Southerner's lips and despite a disappointed grunt from the blond man his mouth wandering to the throat, sucking at it, leaving a love-bite there.

"Stop it, will ya? How should I explain such a bruise?"

Malcolm didn't think of letting go. "I really don't care, Commander!"

They were still shouting at each other.

Trip took hold of the other man's broad shoulders and pinned his back down on the table. He glared into the gray eyes.

"God, I hate ya, Mr Reed!" Having said that he bent down and bit into one of Malcolm's now bare and hard nipples.

The Brit moaned with pleasure. He pushed Tucker back, turned around and now pushed Trip onto the table.

"And I hate you even more, Mr Tucker!" His strong hands massaged the other man's chest and a low growl escaped the Southerner's throat.

The chief engineer straightened up and the two of them stumbled over the loose ends of their uniforms dangling around their knees. They fell to the ground, still clinging to one another.

Trip's hand brushed over Malcolm's crotch and he got rewarded by a moan that he stifled by sucking in the Brit's lower lip. His hand wandered back to the bulge between the lieutenant's legs, pushing his fingers into the seam of the blue skivvies. He played with the curly pubic hair and under Malcolm's delighted groans slid his hand further south.

The armory officer changed the position of his leg so that now Trip's equally hard cock rubbed against it every time he moved the thigh. Tucker increased the pressure on Reed's hot member while the Brit rocked his hips, multiply the friction on the Southerner's crotch.

They climaxed almost simultaneously and afterwards lay still, panting and sweating. Tucker cradled the Malcolm's head on his chest.

"God, I love to hate ya, Mr Reed!"

fin