Star Trek Enterprise 02 Resurrection

Pelaam© June 2009. The inspiration for this sequel came from loves_sg1

*

It had been almost five long, hard, cold months. Even now, when lying in bed and staring at the first letter Jay had written him, Malcolm found it hard to believe he was gone. His lover had been pronounced dead and his body whisked away before he even had the chance to say goodbye. Now all he had were memories of the times they had managed to have together before Jay had been killed.

His hand wandered aimlessly down his toned, muscled torso. He only touched himself on rare occasions and only then when the pain of his lost love was too intense to be denied. They had such a short time together and now he faced a lifetime without Jay. Despite which, Malcolm knew he could not, would not, be sorry. He knew that in Jay's arms he had found love and acceptance. He would always carry a part of the older man with him in his heart and his memories.

His mind drifted back to one of their last times on Earth when they had spent time beside a river, just talking, swimming and making love. He was already in the water and goading Jay to join him. He stood in water that barely touched his shoulders. He did so knowing Jay would be at his side instantly should he get nervous or experience the slightest difficulty. It had seemed so easy to face his fear with Jay at his side. To know that Jay was watching out for him even when apparently busy laying out thick towels.

With a lascivious leer, Jay had dived in, sleek and hard-muscled. The older man had taken a deep breath and slid under the water to grasp Malcolm's thighs in his hands. Once Jay's palms had touched skin he had slowly worked them upwards, stroking Malcolm's limbs and up his body. Lips had followed the trail of fingers, until a begging nipple was taken into his mouth and sucked.

The suddenness of Jay's amorous attentions had startled Malcolm for a moment and he had let a gasp of pleasure escape as tongue then teeth caressed his sensitive nub. Wrapping his fingers behind Jay's head, he had pulled the older man upward as lips had slid over his collarbone to his throat. Finally, Jay had possessed his mouth and Malcolm had freely opened to him. He no longer suppressed the deep moans that arose in his throat whenever they made love.

The kiss was possessive and Malcolm had let his body melt into his lover's and allowed strong arms to hold him upright. He knew Jay had felt his submission. The older man had then pulled back to stare longingly at him.

"Let's get out of the river, Malcolm."

The sound of his name rolling off of the Major's tongue in such a need-filled timbre had inflamed the younger man. Jay had helped him up out of the water and lain him down on the thick towels he had spread out earlier. Jay had quickly covered Malcolm's body, enveloping him with his heat, writhing over him, nipping and licking at his lips.

Malcolm had felt enervated, his whole body heating at the assiduous attention. Jay had risen to his knees, positioning himself between Malcolm's willingly spread thighs. All the while Malcolm had stroked himself up and down, up and down. Jay had first circled his opening, spreading slick gel around Malcolm's pulsing aperture. Jay had licked Malcolm's hard column, gathering the drops of pearlescence and humming happily. He smoothed it over his lips, and slid his moistened mouth over the burgundy-hued crown of Malcolm' erection.

Unable to resist, Malcolm had bucked and thrust into the warm, wet cavern, losing himself in a sensual haze as Jay's tongue had swirled and tasted. Fully concentrating on Malcolm' pleasure, Jay had lovingly milked him as his fingers had delved deep inside, slicking and stretching. The insistent caress of his jewel had undone Malcolm and with a low growl of intense pleasure, he had released himself into Jay's mouth. He had been so immersed in his own satiation that he had barely registered Jay pushing his legs up to his chest and entering him. His slick passage, still clenching in the aftermath of his orgasm, had drawn the older man deeper with every contraction.

Malcolm had felt desire resurrect with each deep thrust of Jay's body. The intimate connection they had shared reignited his passion and he was overwhelmed with a potent mix of love and desire. He had brought his legs up to wrap around Jay's waist, his heels pressing into the older man to encourage him to push harder and deeper. When the solid shaft had rubbed over his sweet spot again and again, he had only been dimly aware that the keening sound came from his own lips.

Jay's stamina had been both impressive and frustrating. Malcolm longed to find release again and yet never wanted the connection to sever. Jay seemed to delight in bringing him to the edge only to back away again, teasing him with the promise of bliss. He had felt no embarrassment when reduced to begging and pleading to bring them both to fulfilment. Finally Jay had taken Malcolm in hand, skilfully bringing the younger man to climax. Malcolm had felt the waves of ecstasy wash over him and then Jay was finding his own release. He had been aware of the warm rush of Jay's seed as it filled his body and he had felt completeness suffuse his soul

As his memories ebbed away to leave him in the present, Malcolm stared at the sated organ that was still in his lightly stroking hand. He picked up the towel at his side and wiped away the evidence of his release. With a muted sob, he covered his body and tried to join his lover in dreams.

****

Malcolm was not really interested in his drink. His shore leave was no longer something to embrace when there was no one to share it with. No warm, loving, attentive...With an angry growl he tossed the drink in his hand down his throat in one swallow. He knew he should stop there. But one more would not hurt. In fact, if he went home a little buzzed he might sleep immediately rather than notice that half his bed was unoccupied.

Two drinks later, Malcolm eased himself from the bar. He felt a little more than just buzzed, but was certain he had not drunk that much.

"This way, Lieutenant."

He blinked at the owner of the voice that tried to steer him towards a waiting vehicle and instinctively tensed ready to resist. A sharp prick against his neck, however, drained even that energy from him. He felt himself bundled into the vehicle before blackness claimed him.

Malcolm blinked awake, a buzz of noise surrounding him. He stared up from his ignominious place on the floor. His legs were tied at knee and ankles, his wrists bound together behind his back and more bindings were on his upper arms. His shirt was missing and Malcolm knew when he was held upright, there was no way he was standing unaided, the upper arm ties would force out his chest. Doubtless another form of humiliation. He had no idea who these people were or why he had been kidnapped. He was not going to be able ask just at present either. A leather ball-gag was affixed and secured. A cold pair of eyes noticed his baleful stare.

"Ah, our...guest is awake."

Malcolm did not like this man the minute his eyes locked with chips of glacial emerald. He focused instead on fighting down the fear his immobility was doubtless intended to engender. A hard hand pushed him awkwardly onto his back and three other men towered over him.

"You're sure about this, Nicholls?" one asked.

"Quite sure. I'm certain this reunion will be all I expected."

Malcolm glared at the man whose hand had moved dangerously close to a bare nipple. Nicholls, he would not forget his name or face.

He grunted as with a snap of his fingers, two other men came forward and hauled Malcolm upright. He watched Nicholls check his timepiece. He felt himself tense. His view of the door was obscured by the four men in front of him but he heard it open and voices stopped.

"Ah, Devlin, so glad you could join us."

Malcolm twisted helplessly in the grip of the men holding him as he heard the sibilant sounds fall from Nicholls' lips.

"No, no don't speak," Nicholls smirked holding up a hand. "I have something here for you. A surprise."

As the curtain of men parted, Malcolm had the strangest sensation of falling backwards, except he knew he could not be moving. He stared at Devlin even as his vision greyed and he realised that he was actually going to faint. The last thing he saw were two more men restraining Devlin as he surged towards Nicholls. Except Malcolm did not know him as Devlin.

It was his Jay.

And he was alive.

****

Jay glowered furiously at Nicholls from his position tied by his wrists to a chair secured to the floor. He had been caught out by the sight of his half-naked lover in the man's clutches. He had been certain his cover had been blown and he had been waiting rescue from his role undercover in the hub of Terra Prime he had infiltrated. The last thing he had expected was to see Malcolm. And from the younger man's reaction, Malcolm had not known he was still alive. If...when... they got out of this, Jay would make sure heads rolled.

"Don't worry, Major Hayes," Nicholls' voice dripped false concern. "Your precious young man will join us shortly."

"You'll pay if he's hurt, Nicholls," Jay ground out. The barked laugh grated on his already frayed nerves. He glanced to the door at the sound of it opening. He bit back the denial he knew Nicholls had hoped for.

Dragged between two men Malcolm gazed at the tableau before him. Jay sat secured to a chair and Nicholls was there, standing beside a pair of manacles that descended from the ceiling. His arms and legs were numb from the restraints and he knew they would be too weak when his bindings were cut. He tried unsuccessfully to bite back the pained groan as Nicholls sliced his rope with a wickedly sharp knife and he was transferred to the manacles. He forced himself to breath as deeply as possible and tried to clear his head. He was alive, Jay was alive. He did not know what would happen next but he prayed they would both still be alive at the end.

Nicholls almost purred with satisfaction as Malcolm was fastened in place. Wielding his knife with practised expertise, he sliced the last of his prey's clothing, smiling at the growl from Hayes and the feigned indifference from Reed. He indicated the ruined cloth at Malcolm's feet with the point of his weapon.

"Take that with you and leave. I will call when I need you. Until then no one is to come near this room whilst I...interrogate the prisoners."

The two men left, their glances telling Jay that 'interrogation' was a polite word for torture. Only it was not going to be him at Nicholls' non-existent mercy, but the man he loved more than life itself.

Nicholls smiled the kind of smile that Malcolm felt was more menacing than most people's look of fury. A small upturning of lips without actual movement of facial muscles and it was devoid of warmth. He stared stonily back at him, there was little else he could do, naked, wrists manacled high over his head, forcing him almost onto his toes. His legs were free, but that seemed little consolation. Malcolm gave a soft grunt as the knife Nicholls wielded traced a path of fire along his ribs, and he closed his eyes. A sharper pain brought them open again.

"That's better," Nicholls whispered. "I want to see them, such pretty eyes," his voice held a sarcastic tone that grated on Malcolm's already dangerously tattered nerves. Nicholls pursed his lips as if thinking. "At least the Major doubtless thinks so. Maybe I'll keep them, preserved in a jar, as a memento of this meeting, hmm, Major Hayes?"

"I'll see you in Hell first," Jay growled ominously. Although his wrists were only bound by rope, they were securely tied. However, Jay had kept some tension in them when being secured. Now, with persistent twisting he had created more slack, especially where they were now slick with sweat and blood. Jay did not know if it was going to be enough. His stomach tightened at the sight of his helpless lover and the sharp knife Nicholls wielded so dangerously.

"There will be no last minute rescue," Nicholls said casually. "This is reality not fantasy." He scraped delicately at Malcolm's inner arm, letting a couple of red trails slide down the stretched limb. "I can, and will, slowly carve him into bloody pieces." He laid the blade along Malcolm's cheekbone. He waited, deliberately letting seconds pass by and then placed the blade on Malcolm's lower lip and pressed. A drop of blood oozed out, dripped down. Nicholls caught it on the knife and spun to present it as if an offering to Jay.

"Get away from him," Jay rasped, his voice dropping in timbre, his wrists never ceasing in their motions to escape the rope that bound them to the chair.

"So much more personal and intimate don't you think, Major Hayes? You, me and your paramour in our own ménage a trois." He leaned in even closer. The knife was gliding over Malcolm's abdomen, red lines in its wake, in an abstract pattern that appealed to Nicholls. "I could gut you like a fish," he breathed, pricking the knife's point from Malcolm's breast bone to his treasure trail. "But it needs to be done slowly. A man could survive hanging and drawing. He could live to see his own eviscerated entrails if it was done correctly. Much of the exquisite art of torture has been lost, Major Hayes, replaced by crudeness. Simply overwhelming with pain is so crass, so uncultured. I have studied the art and your...boyfriend is a fit, healthy specimen. I'm quite sure I can indulge for some time." He sighed and turned to face Jay. "Unless, Major Hayes, you tell me who else in this hub is a traitor. You have had help, but they remain beneath our radar."

"You know better than that," Jay said.

Malcolm wished he could meet his lover's eyes, to let him know he understood. However, Nicholls' eyes, glacial cold and cruel, were before him. Malcolm was certain the older man actually wanted Jay to refuse, wanted to indulge his perversions. He swallowed past a dry throat. Of all the ends to his life he had envisaged, being slowly butchered as his lover watched had never featured. At that moment, he had an intense feeling of his own mortality. He desperately wished to live, to hold Jay and to make love one last time.

"No?" Nicholls asked, running the point of his blade up one arm, leaving a bloody trail in its wake. He stepped back a little, his malevolent green eyes raking over his prey. He licked his lips. He would enjoy this.

Trying to maintain a calm facade, Malcolm swallowed, lifted his chin and shut his eyes. He tried not to think about where the knife might strike first. A prick at his eyelid made him start. Another marked his cheek, and then Nicholls was at his nipples. Malcolm tensed as the wickedly sharp point jabbed at an innocent nub, blood welling and spilling as the knife moved away.

A sickening, white-hot hot jolt to his side made him groan. The knife slid between his ribs and out again. Malcolm turned his face trying to hide the pain and knew he could not. The blade moved to just above his pubic hair, a slice across sending blood to run into the nest of fur protecting his flaccid length.

"Enough" Jay's voice had an edge of begging. "Enough," he repeated.

Malcolm shook his head as Nicholls moved the weapon in a slow, graceful, deadly arc. It came to rest on his lips, a slight pressure and the skin broke once more, sending a ribbon of red to meander down Malcolm's pale skin. Malcolm dropped his head forward.

"Don't, Jay," he said, trying to keep his voice neutral. "He wants to do this. He will, no matter what you say just to have the experience."

"Yes, I do. I want to see how long before you scream out for mercy. But you are wrong to say I want it for the experience. You would be a comparison to those who have gone before. However, I am a professional, Major Hayes. You have information that I want and I have power over something you consider precious. Give me what I want and I will give you my assurance that I will not torture and butcher your catamite. "

"I never thought I would face my end this way," Malcolm interjected as he saw Jay's capitulation. "Thanks to a MACO stuff-up."

Jay's eyes locked with Malcolm's.

"And just how do you come to that conclusion?" he growled. "You were the one in the bar getting drunk enough for even an amateur to kidnap."

"I was the one who thought you dead. I was the one who shouldn't have needed to worry about being kidnapped," Malcolm countered, his own voice low and deadly.

Nicholls stared between the two restrained men. At that moment there seemed no affection between them. All he saw were two aggressive, alpha males who were more like combatants than lovers. His eyes moved from one to the other as they bantered belligerently back and forth.

"I should have guessed you'd look to blame someone else," Jay rasped back, his eyes boring into Malcolm's.

"I didn't ask to be typeset as some kind of damsel in distress," Malcolm growled. "Given my 'hero' leaves a lot to be desired."

"I actually thought you more than capable to taking care of yourself. Seems to me you need a keeper," Jay rumbled.

"Yeah?" Malcolm rejoined. "Well let me tell you this. When I heard you were dead," Malcolm hesitated, waiting for Nicholls' eyes to flicker over to Jay. "I wanted to die, too."

A surprised grunt escaped from Nicholls as Malcolm's athletic body twisted sinuously and powerful, muscled legs wrapped around his throat from behind, dragging him backwards. He managed to slash at one calf before the knife was snatched from his hand by Hayes whose eyes seemed to burn with a mix of hatred and vengeance. He choked helplessly as the legs tightened. He felt the unnatural pressure on his cervical bones and heard the sickening way in which they began to grind.

Hayes twisted his hand free just as Malcolm made his move. Sliding from the seat and stretching, he reached his adversary to wrest the knife from Nicholls as the shocked man writhed in his lover's powerful hold. He hacked at the bindings still holding him back and advanced on his enemy. He saw the fear on the hated face as Malcolm tightened his grip, aiming to snap Nicholls' neck.

"Finish it," Malcolm grunted, the sound of crunching bones surprisingly satisfying to his ears. "Make sure."

Jay could have just plunged the knife into Nicholls' heart, but did not. He rammed it, blade flat, into Nicholls' lower abdomen. He rotated it ninety degrees and then sliced upwards, gutting Nicholls just as he had threatened his lover. He watched dispassionately as the body sank to the floor as Malcolm finally relinquished his hold. Dropping to his knees, he retrieved the key to Malcolm's manacles and the gun from Nicholls' holster. He pushed the gun into the back of his pants and quickly released his mate.

"I love you," he husked pulling the younger man unresistingly into his arms, holding the slighter frame tightly as Malcolm's legs trembled from the strain. "For a minute I thought I was seeing things when you winked. You're incredible sweetheart. I love you so much."

"I love you, Jay," Malcolm whispered from the sanctuary of his lover's arms. "Promise me, Jay. Promise me if they look like they're going to recapture us you'll kill me." He heard the soft cry of denial as Jay shook his head. "Don't make me face that again, love, please," Malcolm begged. "You'd have given them what they wanted and I know Nicholls would not have kept his word. I could see exactly what he wanted."

"If it comes to it sweetheart, I'll kill us both," Jay said decisively. "There would be no life for me without you." If he was honest, he could not bear to see Malcolm tortured again.

Malcolm nodded. It went both ways. He took a couple of seconds to don Nicholls' pants and then they cautiously opened the door. The corridor was clear and Malcolm followed his lover, studiously ignoring each still-bleeding wound. He would only need to worry about them if they escaped from the complex.