Kylie Lee | Slash fan fiction

[Trip] pulled his harmonica out of a pocket. "Some soothing music for you to get to sleep by. Just—sleep. Nothing else. I'll tuck you in, though. I just didn't want you to be alone."

Travis hesitated, wavered, and gave in. "Okay," he said. "Come on in." He didn't look at Trip as the door slid shut behind them. The room's illumination was low. "I was just going to brush my teeth. I'll be right back."

"Take your time," Trip said agreeably.

With Travis in the bathroom, Trip prowled the room. He'd spent the night before—not too many times, and he'd been focusing on other things. Now, he focused on the helmsman's room. He had a few personal effects scattered around. Trip picked up a picture of the Mayweather family and studied it. It looked pretty recent. In addition to Travis was his brother Paul, his parents, and his sister—Trip was embarrassed to say he couldn't remember her name, but she and Travis were close. He wondered how she was taking the death of her father. Apparently she and her husband had relocated to another Boomer cargo ship. Trip had gotten the impression that it was a politically fraught move that hadn't endeared her to her family—just like Travis's decision to leave the Horizon hadn't pleased his father, for reasons Trip didn't understand.

Trip set the picture down carefully and looked long and hard at artwork Travis had up, but he wasn't really seeing it. He was thinking. He really liked Travis, liked him a lot, but for all that the Boomer was gregarious, friendly, and talkative, Trip felt like he didn't really know him. They were friends, but they were still getting to know each other. Trip had been hopeful, because things were going well, but now Travis's father had died suddenly. Trip wasn't sure how it would affect their relationship, but then felt guilty because he was thinking about how the event would affect him, not Travis.

"Trip."

Trip turned. He wanted to reach out and touch Travis, but he didn't dare. Travis looked tired. "You get right into bed," Trip ordered. He pulled a chair up to the bedside as Travis slid in. "I'll get the lights," he added. He dimmed them further, leaving barely enough light to see. "And I said I'd tuck you in," he reminded Travis.

"That's right. You said that." Travis adjusted his pillow.

Trip straightened the covers, bent, and brushed a kiss on Travis's lips. "Okay," he said. "Time for the soothing music." He sat in the chair and kicked off his shoes. "I want to put my feet up," he explained as he did so. "T'Pol told me today that I should practice my harmonica. So that's what I'm doing."

He leaned back, swiped his harmonica through his hand, and started to play. He figured Travis wasn't in the mood for cheerful, so he played folk songs. He played for a long time, interspersing the songs with some pointless riffs that just sounded pretty to him. When he stopped, he thought Travis was asleep: Travis's breath was slow, deep, and regular. He was just getting up to let himself out when Travis opened his eyes.

"That was really nice," Travis said sleepily. "Don't go. Spend the night."

"You sure?" Trip asked.

"You're right. I probably shouldn't be alone. I guess I kind of want someone here."

"Okay. Scoot over a little bit." Trip unzipped his uniform and took it off. His T-shirt came next. Dressed only in his Starfleet-issue blues and his socks, he crawled in next to Travis, pressing his chest against Travis's back. The bed was small and narrow, but they'd managed before. Travis made a small noise when Trip put his arm around him. Trip slid his hand under Travis's shirt and gently stroked his stomach. He could feel the muscle definition. He nuzzled his nose against Travis's neck. He felt himself start to get hard. He'd figured that would happen. He responded to Travis on some physical level that had nothing to do with logic. He knew Travis needed comfort, but his body had other ideas. "Don't worry about this," he whispered, pressing his groin against Travis's ass. It felt nice. "It's just because you're right here and you feel good. You go to sleep."

"I feel kind of like I'm in shock," Travis said matter-of-factly. "I don't feel anything inside except empty."

"Well, I'm here to keep you company," Trip said. He kissed Travis's shoulder. "I feel bad for you. I know there's probably nothing I can do, and I don't like that—the whole not-doing thing, I mean."

Travis put his hand over Trip's. Trip continued the slow petting of Travis's stomach. "You're doing plenty," Travis said. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight."