Anonymity - Chapter 4

Rating: PG-13 in this chapter
Disclaimer: See chapter one


Malcolm was a pessimist, Trip decided. In the time that had passed since they had accidentally outed themselves - or rather, Trip corrected himself, since he had outed the two of them - nothing had changed. In fact, he wasn't even sure if Travis and Hoshi had looked up the bar that both himself and Malcolm had visited on that evening of shore leave and thus discovered their secret. What had changed, though, was that Malcolm and Trip had become firm friends, and were now often to be found after-hours in either man's quarters, enjoying a drink and each other's company. Trip was on his way right now to Malcolm's quarters, and he had to admit that it was possible that he wasn't entirely sober, having come straight from dinner with T'Pol and the captain where the wine was flowing rather more copiously than usual. Arriving at Malcolm's quarters, he pressed the chime and was admitted by a ruffled-looking Malcolm Reed with a towel round his shoulders.

"Hey, gorgeous!" Trip greeted him enthusiastically, kissing him on the cheek as he walked through the door. "Just out the shower? I shoulda dropped by earlier!" He added with a lecherous wink.

"Trip, are you drunk?" Malcolm was looking at him with an expression halfway between incredulous and amused. "You go to dinner with the captain and T'Pol and come back drunk?" Trip looked apologetic.

"It's possible I might be just slightly… inebriated," he grimaced, attempting to sit down and only just hitting the sofa. "Sorry." Malcolm grinned.

"I'll just have to catch up then, won't I?" he said, picking up two shot glasses and a bottle of amber liquid and carrying them over to the sofa. While Trip watched, he poured and downed four shots in quick succession.

"Not quite sure what that stuff is, but it sure as hell is potent!" he croaked, shaking his head. "Now… Mr Tucker, can I offer you a drink?"


A short while later, both men were sprawled across the sofa and more than "just slightly inebriated", although the shots were still being downed thick and fast. The conversation had turned to relationships.

"So now I know why all those relationships with women never quite worked out for you, huh Trip?" drawled Malcolm lazily, earning a kick from Trip. He protested mildly before aiming a feeble kick back in Trip's direction, missing by a long way and almost breaking a glass which Trip promptly refilled and emptied just as fast. After a moment of silence, Trip sat up and looked at Malcolm.

"You never did tell me who gave you that thing," he accused. It took Malcolm a minute to work out he was talking about, before half sitting up as well.

"I told you about as much as I know," he answered. "You know how dark it was in there. I've no idea what he looked like. Although," he added pensively, "I think he might have been blond."

"You like blondes, huh?" quipped Trip. Malcolm looked sideways at him.

"Sure," he replied warily, pouring them both another shot. "What about you? Any idea what yours looked like?" Trip downed his drink before answering.

"Dark, mighta been a brunette. Tight trousers. Nice ass." He poured again.

"You like nice asses, huh?" Malcolm mimicked. Trip shrugged and leaned back.

"Who doesn't?" After a pause, he added, "Yours is pretty nice." Malcolm eyed him warily for a minute before smirking.

"Likewise," he responded.

"Aww, Malcolm, you're teasing me now," Trip pouted.

"You started it!" protested Malcolm.

"Did not."

"Did too."

"Not."

Malcolm paused.

"Trip?" Fuzzy blue eyes looked up from under blond hair.

"Huh?"

"Shut up." Malcolm forestalled the predicted pout by handing Trip another drink.

"You're no fun, Malcolm," he muttered, downing his shot.

"I can be fun!" was the outraged reply.

"Oh yeah?" Trip leaned in closer. "Prove it!" he challenged, a wicked glint in his eye. However, even though the small part of Malcolm's mind still unaffected by the alcohol was telling him that this was not a good idea, it was drowned out by the much larger, much drunker part. He leaned in to meet Trip's eyes.

"You're on." Trip held out his hand for Malcolm to shake, and when he had done sat back, a satisfied grin on his face.

"Good. Now…" he mused, the grin getting wider and wickeder. "What can I think of for you to do?" Malcolm started to see the stupidity of agreeing to this. "Aha!" The grin was now impossibly wide, and as Trip leant in, he could see there was an evil glint in Trip's eye that he didn't like at all. "I know! Malcolm Reed…" Malcolm waited, "You are going to make out with me in the mess hall!" Trip sat back again, looking pleased with himself. Malcolm was in shock.

"What? I… No! Not in the mess hall! Absolutely not!" Getting up, he looked down at Trip from above. "Are you insane?" Trip got up to join him.

"Come on, Malcolm, it'll be fun! I'll never call you boring again! Besides, you shook on it!" Malcolm was in a quandary, knowing that he had shaken on it and that he wanted to do it anyway, but…. in the mess hall? In front of everyone? He poured another drink and downed it quickly.

"Alright," he said decisively, slamming his glass down on the table. "I'll do it." Again, the sober bit of his mind was screaming "No!" at him, but again he chose to ignore it. Trip looked at him in surprise.

"Right," he said, and Malcolm was amused to see he seemed less confident than he had done before. "Let's just have another couple of drinks first." Malcolm nodded his assent, and between them, they downed the final quarter of the bottle.

"Whoa!" giggled Trip, as the stuff seemed to go instantly to his head. "Shall we go then?" The two men stood up, leaning on each other for help as their legs suddenly seemed to have forgotten what they were made for. Giggling and clinging on to each other, they made their way out of Malcolm's quarters and through the ship to the mess hall.


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