Title: Take My Hand
Fandom: Star Trek Enterprise
Rating: Explicit
Length: 1320
Content notes: Sexual activity
Author notes: This takes place some years post Season 4 when Jonathan is an admiral at Starfleet Headquarters. He and Malcolm share a long-established relationship, and this is Jonathan's voice. The summary is from "Samain Night" - Loreena McKennitt.
Summary: "Our fingers touch, our hearts collide." - Loreena McKennitt

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A soft rhythm drums its way past the silence of deep sleep, slowly waking me enough to become aware of it.

It's still early, probably not long past dawn, and the light is filtered by a deep fog that settled in overnight... one of the things I love about this part of the Oregon coast. So it wasn't the light that woke me, but the sound. Emerging from sleep, I recognize it as raindrops on the roof, soft and steady, a sound never heard on Enterprise.

I slip from the bed, leaving Malcolm asleep, wrapped in the soft coverlet I'd pulled up over us in the night. It had probably been more for the cocoon effect than for warmth, a subconscious attempt to make our own small world, even if only for the night. I'm not sure we succeeded at that, not yet.

I carry too many burdens to be able to slip free of them in one night, and I'm sure he could read that in my response to his attempts to seduce me away. My body had been an eager recipient of his attentions, but I can't help feeling that I failed in reciprocating. Stray thoughts and worries kept intruding when I should have been feeling nothing but joy. And when my focus should have been on his pleasure.

We both really need this time together, away from the demands of everyday Starfleet life where too many people know how to contact us at any hour for any reason. Very few know of this retreat, a refuge we've guarded closely for years now, though it's too seldom we get to escape to it. I'm glad Malcolm insisted that we make the time.

Not bothering to dress, I open the door to the deck and step out into the rain, letting the drops run in rivulets down my face and body. It feels clean and fresh, and the effect is utterly compelling. Enough so that after a few minutes I almost forget that I'm standing naked in the rain. Fog and mist shroud the shoreline. If I squint, I can make out some of the familiar stacks and rock formations, but there's no need. I know this place, this coast, the sound and smell of the sea.

Malcolm moves like a cat, silent and purposeful. One moment I am alone, lost in my thoughts, and then with my next breath I see his strong hand extended, reaching for mine. I don't know if he means to urge me back inside, but I'm not ready to do that yet.

Clasping his hand, I gently draw him to me. Before meeting his eyes, I gaze for a long moment - mesmerized - at our joined hands, pelted by the rain. There's a brief moment of resistance but he trusts me. Once he's in my arms, I claim his mouth in a kiss, long and lingering, letting it deepen, letting the rain wash over us both.

It should have been no surprise that Malcolm would relax in my arms and press himself as closely as possible against me. This is one of those perfect, rare moments when I'm not thinking, just opening every sense to the feel of his body, to his unique scent mingled with the sea air, to the taste of his mouth as he opens to me.

I move my hand slowly along his wet arm, tracing every muscle with my fingertips, from forearm to shoulder. And I can't stop there... I continue stroking slowly down his back as he molds himself to my body, his face nuzzled against my chest, sheltering there. My breath quickens as I reach the swell of his ass and cup a cheek in my hand, squeezing gently. I feel as much as hear the low moan that accompanies the sudden heat as he hardens against me. My name is part of it, and is something I've never gotten over, even after all our years together – that he can express so much love and want and need in just one word... Jon.

The rain continues unabated, but it's not a cold rain and I wonder for a moment why we've never done this before. Sex in the shower just isn't the same thing. Despite the privacy of our location, there's an element of reckless exposure, of letting go, of simply surrendering to the elements and to each other.

Moments or minutes later, I whisper to ask if he wants to go inside, praying he'll say no. I want to make love to him out here, just as we are, letting the rain and the fog be a part of it. Thankfully, he shakes his head in reply as he slips a hand between us, languidly caressing my chest to find already erect nipples awaiting his touch.

Malcolm never disappoints – now his mouth is on my neck, kissing his way down toward the base of my throat. It's something we both love – he told me once that tasting my pulse against his lips and tongue was something he had fantasized about long before we ever touched. I throw my head back, offering him more, closing my eyes against the raindrops. His hand slowly slides lower, fingertips tracing the trail of wet hair from my chest down over my stomach until he finds what we were both wanting. My breath catches again as he wraps his hand around my erection and strokes me slowly with his thumb.

Part of me wants to give in to it, to let him continue just as we are. The last thing I want to do is move, but I do pull away just enough to murmur for him to hold for a moment. I don't want to just take. What I want most is for us to make love together, to share every part of the experience. And he knows my body language well enough to realize what I want and need from him... and for him.

I steer us to the low wooden bench that overlooks the shore and draw him down next to me, gently urging him onto his back. The bench isn't wide, but it will serve. He looks up at me, smiling, opening his arms to pull me into position above him. As he spreads his knees apart, I cover him, reaching between our bodies to take us both in hand. I'm rewarded by his sharp gasp and the way his body trembles when I touch him. This feels so right.

Malcolm seldom closes his eyes during sex, but today he is probably trying to keep the rain out. His dark lashes tempt me beyond reason and I brush my lips across them before kissing him deeply and moving against him. His hands, never still, move from my back to tangle in the hair at the nape of my neck as he arches his back seeking more... more of me... more of the contact he needs.

I groan and pick up the pace in response to his urgency, finally losing conscious thought to the rhythm building between us.

When next I become aware of our surroundings, the rain has passed, leaving only a damp mist. Malcolm has drifted asleep in my arms and I'd like nothing more than to hold him forever, but our body heat is beginning to fade and I know we should go inside. Slipping my hand from between us, I kiss him awake, murmuring something about continuing this in a warm, dry bed. He nods and releases me. After I sit up, he rises to his feet in one graceful movement. He extends a hand to me and I take it gratefully, pausing to admire how our hands always fit together. There is no rain sheeting across them now, but the moment mirrors our earlier contact.

This time I allow him to lead me back to bed. The day is just beginning...

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