Work Text:
If it hadn't been for Kathryn, running off to South America when Voyager's crew returned to Earth…. If it hadn't been for Tom running after her….
If Kathryn hadn't planted the idea in his head, with her sly glances and careful questions…. If Tom hadn't added to her glances with his own cool but somehow shy appraisal….
If he'd never seen Kathryn in a thigh-skimming shift – or Tom bare-chested with his pants slung low and loose around his hips….
If not for all these things, perhaps he would never have seen Tom again; never opened the door of his cabin to see that familiar fair head and blue eyes of the man he had so often called impossible. He would never have invited him in, sat down with him and talked for hours. And if none of that had happened he would never have found himself pressed up against the wall of his bedroom, Tom's body moulded firmly against his, Tom's lips on his, Tom's tongue sweeping inside his mouth, his hands on Tom's hips and back, holding them together, determined not to let either of them escape. He was as fervent in his own kisses as Tom was in his, and explored Tom's eager mouth with his tongue as soon as he had the chance. His breath hitched, and he heard a guttural moan from Tom, and for a moment they pulled back from each other, just a scant inch – no more than that.
He looked at Tom, his blue eyes calm and comprehending, his expression solemn and breathless and wanting.
'Yes,' Tom said to him as he studied Tom's face. 'I want this. I want you, Chakotay.' And Tom leaned in again, resuming their kiss. Chakotay relaxed into it, into Tom, into the feel of their arms around each other, and all the places where their bodies touched. He relaxed into the bizarre rightness of it all, and let himself go.