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"Frustration" Author's e-mail: keattrin@hotmail.com Disclaimer: Enterprise, the series, concepts and characters, are the property, copyright and trademark of Paramount/Viacom. No ownership or claim on said property, copyright or trademark is made or implied by the use of these characters in this story. This story is non-commercial, not for sale or profit, and may not be sold or reproduced for commercial purposes. In other words, I like using these characters in stories I’d never see on TV. Notes: This story is in honor of the Merry Masturbation Month of May. It also has Trip angst, which I love. **************** Trip watched Malcolm as he dashed on his knees for the hatch before it closed completely. He felt a strange sensation and before he knew it, he and Malcolm were crouched on the bridge of Enterprise, in the same positions they had been a few moments earlier in the cooling duct on the repair station. He looked up, straight into the eyes of T’Pol, who was giving him a curious, yet exasperated look. She sure can convey emotion with her beautiful face, Trip thought suddenly. Blushing bright red and trying to recover some shred of dignity, he responded to her look. “Evenin’, Subcommander.” One of the Vulcan’s elegant eyebrows went up. Next to him, Trip could feel Malcolm shift uneasily. They both stood up at the same time. “Commander, Lieutenant, where were you?” Malcolm cleared his throat, as if attempting to come up with a plausible explanation. Trip spoke first. “We were on the space station.” “I gathered that. Exactly where were you on the space station to cause an automatic transport to the ship?” “Well, we were in the central cooling duct.” “And may I ask what you were doing there?” Trip and Malcolm looked at each other. “We were trying to find the engineering room. I wanted to see it, and Malcolm came with me to make sure I’d be safe on an alien space station.” Trip shifted uncomfortably under T’Pol’s gaze. She looked at him sardonically, as if she didn’t quite believe him. “Captain Archer will be apprised of the situation.” “No, T’Pol, please, can’t we just keep this between the three of us?” “It is hardly between the three of us. Ensigns McGee and Chen witnessed the transport also. Dismissed.” Malcolm turned on his heel and headed for the turbolift, obviously glad to be out of there. Trip opened his mouth to plead with T’Pol some more, but decided it was futile. Once in the turbolift, Malcolm turned to Trip, anger flashing in his eyes. “It’s amazing, Trip. I always manage to find myself in a compromised position when I go on an “adventure” with you. Why do I even go when I know that it will end badly?” “Because you can’t help yourself, Malcolm.” Trip wiggled his eyebrows at Malcolm, his fine features spreading into a grin. “Maybe you think this is amusing, but I assure it is not. Captain Archer will not find this amusing, either.” Malcolm looked away, frustrated at his situation and anxious about his lack of discipline in front of the captain. “Relax, Malcolm. The Captain will be fine with it.” The turbolift reached D deck. The doors opened and Malcolm walked out towards the armory, refusing to look at Trip. “See ya later, Malcolm?” Trip asked. Malcolm ignored him and kept walking. The turbolift doors closed. Trip took a deep breath. I try to draw him out of his shell, and he’s ungrateful. He always sees the serious side of things. Why can’t he see more? Trip’s anguish manifested itself in an erotic thought. No matter how frustrated he became with Malcolm, his thoughts always turned to lust. Why did he want him so badly? Was it because Malcolm kept coming with him on these adventures? Why did Malcolm keep coming with him if he knew they’d end badly, as he had said before? Too many questions. That’s how it was with Malcolm. There were always too many questions where he was concerned. He would be Trip’s friend and go on an adventure with him, yet something would happen and he would get angry. Trip thought of the flashing blue-gray eyes. He loved to watch Malcolm keep his temper in check. He took pleasure in provoking Malcolm, just to watch the carefully controlled responses Malcolm would put forth. All of a sudden, it dawned on Trip. He wanted to see Malcolm lose control. He wanted to be the one to melt the practiced veneer of restraint Malcolm put on for others. He wanted to see Malcolm lusting after him, writhing in ecstasy underneath him as he accepted Trip into his body. He wanted to see Malcolm moaning loudly with pleasure, as Trip’s mouth licked and nipped and sucked his cock. He wanted to see Malcolm’s cock so badly, wanted to see him lose control to the sensations Trip would be creating in him. Trip’s knees buckled as his thoughts overwhelmed his senses. His uniform pants were unbearably tight, and he needed release. The turbolift stopped at E deck, the doors opened, and Trip ran to his quarters. Thankfully no one was in the corridor. He got to his quarters, stripped and went into the bathroom. Trip looked at himself in the full-length mirror. He looked over his body, starting at the strong shoulders, down the rippled chest, to the arms that were bulging with muscle. He continued on down, to the flat, defined stomach, and then down to the center of his being. His penis was long, thick and hard with desire, flushed dark red with blood. It stood out from the patch of curly light brown hair at its base, mucin twinkling at the tip. Nature’s lubricant was ready to facilitate a smooth transition for intercourse. Trip closed his eyes as his fingers lightly touched his dick. He stepped backwards towards the shower stall, leaning against the door for support. He grasped his cock more ardently. His thumb rubbed the head, smearing mucin all over, making it easier to slide his hand down his shaft. In his mind’s eye, he could see Malcolm on his knees, taking Trip into his mouth. He gripped his cock more fiercely at the thought, his hand moving up and down the shaft more quickly. “Ooohhh,” he moaned, as his fantasy began to play itself out for his pleasure. Malcolm was licking and sucking his cock, his eyes locked with Trip’s. Trip arched his back at the thought and rubbed more vigorously, the pressure increasing. He leaned his head back, left hand pinching the hard nub of his nipple. “God, yes, Malcolm…suck me harder with that beautiful mouth.” He wanted to dig his hands into the wavy, chestnut brown hair, feel its texture in his hands. His hand went up and down the length of his penis, his hips bucking back and forth in rhythm with his hand. His fantasy went to the bed, where he imagined himself on top of Malcolm, thrusting in and out of his anus, the head of his swollen cock rubbing against Malcolm’s prostrate. He imagined Malcolm beginning to squirm with pleasure, losing control. Malcolm’s sexy accent whispered in his head, “God, I love it when you fuck me, Trip! Make me come, lover!” The pressure in Trip’s cock reached its apex, and Trip came hard, eyes tightly shut, jaws clenched together, hips thrusting. Every muscle in his body squeezed with the effort of pushing the semen out. “Uuuggghhh!” he moaned loudly, and sucked in his breath hard. His cum spewed forward, propelled by a mighty thrust. It landed on the sink and the wall above it. His legs felt weak, as he slid down the front of the shower door. His heart pounded in his ears, the aftermath of an amazing orgasm. He calmed down slowly, breathing rhythmically to get it under control. He sat on the cold tile floor for a few minutes. A picture of blue-gray eyes hooded by dark thick lashes swam before him. Sadness engulfed him. A lonely sob escaped his lips. He got up and walked over to the mirror. As he looked at himself, he noticed the sadness in his eyes, evidenced by the tears in the outer corners. He looked away, grabbed a cloth and cleaned himself with it. “Archer to Tucker.” The Captain’s voice rang in over the comm. system in his quarters. Dashing over to it, Trip hit the button. “Yes, Cap’n?” “Please come to my quarters immediately.” Archer didn’t hide the edge in his voice. Here comes the verbal lashin’, Trip thought to himself. That damn T’Pol couldn’t keep her mouth shut. “Be right there, sir.” *************** Trip entered Archer’s quarters. Malcolm was already there, staring straight ahead at the far wall. No doubt the mental floggin’s already started for him, Trip thought. He stood at attention next to Malcolm. The Captain started in on them, conveying first his worry that they might have been beamed into space instead of onto the bridge, then agreeing with Malcolm that discipline was indeed lacking on the ship. Trip tried to take complete responsibility for it, but Archer would have none of it. To show them that he was quite serious, he confined them to their quarters. Too bad we don’t room together, thought Trip as he and Malcolm turned to go out the door. There was plenty that he could think of to keep them occupied while confined to quarters. His imagination threatened to take him to a place of physical pleasures, which would manifest itself quite plainly to the others in the room. He took a deep breath and thought of the mechanism that worked the door. He couldn’t afford to have an erection right now. Fortunately, Archer cut into his thoughts with a request for any information they gathered while in the cooling duct.
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