LEGACY

Title: Legacy, 3/4
Author: Jaye (Copyright March 2002)
Codes: VOY C/Weyoun NC-17

Note: Written for ChakotayFest

Disclaimer: Star Trek, Voyager, Deep Space Nine and all
related characters and concepts are the property of
Paramount. No infringement is intended or profit made. This
is NC-17 for m/m sex. If you aren't interested (or aren't
old enough), don't read it.

Archive: Drop me a line first so I know where it's going.
Please keep the text (especially the disclaimer) intact.

Feedback: Sure, but this is only my second attempt at fanfic
so be kind, or at least constructive. If I've mangled DS9
canon, my apologies. I'm using episode guides for my info.

***************

PART THREE

Chakotay dropped his gaze from the viewscreen back to the
sensors. His face was grim. "Status report."

"All systems have returned to optimal levels. No damage
sustained." Weyoun surreptitiously gave the Engineering
console a little pat in gratitude.

"Confirming Defiant-Class vessel with shields, weapons and
cloak down. Life support and hull integrity OK." Ayala
popped his restraints with a satisfied sigh.

"Their propulsion systems are damaged. They're venting
plasma, but the warp core looks secure." Chakotay looked up
at the ship hanging dead in space, then turned toward the
back of the bridge. "Weyoun, open a channel, audio only."

When Weyoun had nodded, Chakotay said, "Unidentified vessel,
this is Chakotay of the independent freighter DreamCatcher.
Do you require assistance, and why the *hell* did you fire
on my ship?"

Silence reigned as the men waited in vain for a response.

"It looks like they did receive the message, they're just
not responding." Weyoun accessed a database. "I'm not
reading any registry for this particular ship." He looked at
his companions. "It's clearly not new, so why doesn't it
show up in these files?"

"Section 31." Ayala surmised, his features hardening along
with his voice.

"I thought all that 'secret agent, government assassins,
cloak and dagger' stuff was just a 'Fleet myth." Geron
turned a questioning gaze on his lover.

"No, not a myth, just a dirty little Federation secret," he
replied. Ayala looked at Chakotay. "If it is 31, we don't
have much time."

Weyoun had moved forward to hover near Chakotay, and the
older man reached out for the Vorta's hand, stilling the
pale fidgeting fingers with a comforting squeeze. When the
Vorta had relaxed beside him, he turned back toward the
sensor readout and pulled up the transporter controls.
"Let's find someone who'll give us some answers."

He looked at the lifesigns. "I'm going to bet the person at
the center of the bridge is the captain, or close enough."
He typed in a command. "Transport complete." He stood and
began walking with Weyoun to the exit. "We're going to have
a little chat with our new guest."

Ayala called after them, "Any orders, Cap?"

Chakotay paused by the door. "I don't think they'll be
contacting us to lodge a complaint. Make sure none of the
lifesigns suddenly disappear. Keep a sharp eye on their
power levels. If it looks like they've been able to bring
anything on-line, let me know. We'll be in Sickbay."

"Sickbay?" Geron asked.

"Yes," Chakotay said with a wicked glint in his eye, "the
DreamCatcher's former owner had a very interesting way of
making sure people coming aboard weren't hiding anything."

***************

A gray mouse of a man stood stark naked in a small, bare
alcove behind a forcefield in Sickbay. The DreamCatcher's
special transporter (another innovation courtesy of the
Ferengi) had scanned him while he was in the pattern buffer,
and withheld everything that did not match his DNA. It also
performed a check for any harmful germs or viral agents. The
process was the equivalent of a *very* thorough strip,
cavity and X-ray search, combined with a complete
decontamination.

The prisoner did not seem to appreciate the system's
efficiency as he clasped his hands in front of him and
glared at the opening door.

Chakotay glided to a stop a few steps away from the energy
barrier and regarded the man trapped within. He could sense
a cunning mind and calm determination behind the bland
façade. "Who are you?" he demanded.

"Does it matter? Return my clothes or at least toss me a
robe or something, damn it." The tone suggested irritation
rather than anger, surprising Chakotay. He walked to a panel
nearby and tapped a few keys, causing a shift to shimmer
into existence at the man's feet.

The prisoner pulled on the shapeless garment and seemed to
relax, walking over to lean against a wall and run his eye
over his captors. "I must congratulate you, Commander. It
seems your tactical expertise was not exaggerated."

"If you've read my record you know I haven't held that title
for months," Chakotay replied. "What exactly is going on
here? Why is Section 31 firing on my ship?"

The mention of the secret Federation organization didn't
faze the man. "It's not you we're after, exactly. This ship
just happens to be carrying something we want." His calm
gaze shifted to the silent Vorta. "Or should I say,
someone."

"Me?" Weyoun's face scrunched up in puzzlement. "The
Dominion is gone. What would the Federation want with me
now?"

"And more importantly, how did you find out about him?"
Chakotay moved closer to the forcefield, instinctively
shielding his companion.

The barefoot man shrugged. "The Vorta was the Dominion's
Ambassador, then their Enforcer once the gloves came off.
Quite a few people are still unhappy about that."

"Bullshit." Chakotay's profanity startled both Weyoun and
the agent. "If that were true we would have had clear
sailing to Bajor, probably right into the Enterprise's
tractor beam. There would have been a warrant and plenty of
media present for the capture. Followed of course by 'The
Trial of the Century'."

Chakotay's eyes were starting to harden with anger even as
his voice grew soft with menace. "You wanted him out of the
way. Permanently. Why?" In the blink of an eye the threat to
Weyoun had transformed Chakotay into a very dangerous man.

Weyoun could feel the tension radiating off his companion.
He laid a hand on a muscled shoulder in reassurance, then
addressed the agent. "I was trying to *help* the Federation.
I mean, my previous self was...it's all still kind of hazy,
but I know I was with the Federation's Founder, Odo. I was
on board a ship, but I was also on the viewscreen."

He moved away to roam through Sickbay. "I...I was ordered to
activate my termination implant or the other Weyoun would
have hurt Odo." Confusion swam in the sea-colored eyes as
they sought Chakotay's face. "I remember dying in Odo's
arms, but I *don't* remember giving the suicide order. That
can't be right." He walked back to the older man. "The
cloning process is set up to transfer all memory engrams
with the genetic material. I should remember more if the
other clone survived past that point in time."

Chakotay felt his heart lurch at the lost look in Weyoun's
eyes. His expression softened as he laid reassuring hands on
the Vorta's shoulders. "We'll figure it out." Out of the
corner of his eye he caught a speculative expression
crossing his prisoner's face as the man moved away from the
cell wall. Keeping one hand on Weyoun, Chakotay turned back
to the forcefield. "You have something to contribute?"

"Maybe." The man was staring intently at Weyoun, trying to
gauge the alien's sincerity. He nodded to himself,
satisfied. "You really don't recognize me, do you?"

Weyoun frowned, then shook his head. "No, we've never met."

"And you don't remember the Cardassian revolution, or dying
at Garak's hand?"

The Vorta was bewildered. "I was killed by Terek
Nor's---Deep Space Nine's *tailor*?"

"He's rather more than that," the prisoner said dryly as he
returned to his spot against the wall. "Weyoun---what we
thought was the last Weyoun---was also quite a fine
tactician. There was a real chance the Federation could have
fallen. We...happened to learn that part of his plans
involved acquiring some very special computer codes, ones
that unfortunately would give their owner command access to
any vessel built at the Utopia Planitia shipyards."

"All of the big 'Fleet ships come from there, including the
Enterprise-E," Chakotay mused.

"Yes, as well as many of our experimental craft." The
agent's slow steps measured his limited floor space. "I was
one of the people sent to neutralize the threat after we
realized security had been compromised. I failed." He
approached the forcefield. "We couldn't let those codes be
used. Most of the computers are clean now, but not all. So
when we heard Weyoun was still alive, the termination order
was reissued."

He paused and looked at Weyoun. "You didn't flinch when you
first saw me. I got close enough to killing you that there
should have been some reaction."

Chakotay was lost in thought a moment, then turned to
Weyoun. "You were in stasis when I found you. Would that
have affected the memory transfer?"

Weyoun considered. "Maybe. Each new clone is created partly
using their predecessor's DNA. If I was already---" he made
a vague gesture "---finished and in stasis when Garak killed
the other Weyoun, there would have been no way for me to
incorporate his memories."

Chakotay turned to the agent. "If you believe he doesn't
know anything, there's no reason to kill him, right?"

The gray-haired man shrugged. "I've been given discretion in
this matter." He moved to stand in the center of the alcove.
"If you send me back to my ship, we won't be bothering you
again."

Chakotay's eyes narrowed. "You've been awfully free with
your information. And I didn't think Section 31 was known
for being so accommodating. Why should we trust you?"

The man returned to the barrier and met both sets of eyes
with a level stare. "No matter what you think, even *my*
stomach turns at the murder of an innocent. I don't think
your friend is here to resurrect the Dominion. And I know
your reputation, Chakotay. You were an enemy of the
Cardassians, not the Federation. I can trust you to keep us
safe." He gave a small smile. "Besides, the few remaining
at-risk ships are being sent on deep-space missions as a
precaution. In a week or so, the threat will no longer
exist."

Chakotay sighed and looked at Weyoun. "I think we have to
take him at his word."

The Vorta nodded. "We certainly can't keep him prisoner." He
approached the forcefield. His eyes were serious as they
bore into the agent's. "Promise me that if you do consider
me a threat that no one else will be hurt. No more firing on
ships just because I'm a passenger."

The Section 31 officer gave the Vorta a surprisingly warm
smile. "I promise that no Federation force---even the
unofficial ones---will be going after you or anyone with
you. I'll even arrange for Federation citizenship by the
time you reach Bajor."

Weyoun offered a shy smile in return and a soft, "Thank
you."

The agent blinked, surprised again by the differences
between the clones. He cleared his throat and briskly moved
to the center of the alcove. "Yes...Well, now, if you'd be
so kind as to send me back to my ship. I'd like to see how
they're doing with repairs."

Chakotay walked over to the console and began typing. "If
you take off the shift I'll send all of your 'equipment'
back with you, including your uniform." He looked up, struck
by a thought. "But first, how *did* you find out about us?
Was it my comm traffic or," he swallowed, "were we
betrayed?"

The agent snorted. "We may have managed to reconstruct your
comm signals, but we still haven't gotten past the *first*
level of encryption." His eyes softened with regret as he
regarded the two men. "We received some anonymous
transmissions. I don't know who turned on you, but they told
us exactly where you'd be and got my bosses to order me to
shoot first---and not bother asking questions at all." He
offered a final warning. "You'd better watch your step."

Chakotay nodded in farewell. "Thank you," he said, and then
the naked agent was gone in the swirl of the transporter.

Weyoun looked at Chakotay. "What now?" he asked quietly.

Chakotay spread his hands. "The only thing I can think of is
to meet Ro Laren as planned. Maybe she can help us figure
out who tipped off Section 31." His expression turned grim.
"And why they betrayed us."

"They betrayed you because of *me,* Chakotay." Weyoun's
worry was clear. He knew he wouldn't be able to say the next
words if he was looking into those intense dark eyes, so he
dropped his own and continued, "Maybe you should just drop
me off somewhere. It would be safer for you and your
friends."

"No!" Chakotay stilled his panic with a deep calming breath
and swiftly strode over to lift the Vorta's chin. He held
the sea-spun gaze. "They're your friends as well, Weyoun,
and I don't think they're going to agree to abandon you." He
tightened his grip on the pale face. "Any more than I will."

"But---" Weyoun found his protest stopped by a single blunt
finger against his mouth. He wondered what would happen if
he kissed it.

"No." Chakotay repeated. He felt the warmth of Weyoun's lips
under his hand and fought down a fierce desire to taste them
with his own. To claim the younger man completely and keep
him safe by his side forever. He released Weyoun and stepped
back. "Let's go ask Greg and Geron what they want to do."

************************************************************
************************************************************

Weyoun paced the length of the captain's living room, his
thoughts racing faster than his steps. He was torn by
conflicting desires: to run away from Chakotay, and to grab
hold of him and never let go.

The former Maquis had been right about his crewmates. Geron
and Greg were adamant that they all stay together, no matter
what risks they faced or what they'd learn. The two men were
taking the first watch. Chakotay wanted someone on the
bridge at all times, so the two pairs would alternate every
eight hours until they reached Bajor.

The Vorta was glad for some time alone while Chakotay
whipped up and stored a few quick meals, some comfort food
for a stressful time. He wanted to get his thoughts and
feelings straightened out before he set eyes on his roommate
again.

Weyoun wanted to keep Chakotay safe, but couldn't bear the
thought of leaving him. The Vorta was filled with joy each
time he woke in the beautiful man's arms, and now he wasn't
sure he could sleep without those strong bronze limbs
wrapped around him.

Was this love? No one among his people could remember what
it was like, so long had the Founders denied them even the
most elemental of emotional connections. He felt drawn to
the older man's strength and grace, enchanted by his easy,
open smile, hopelessly caught in the warm chocolate pools of
his eyes.

But it was more than physical. It was as though somehow in
their time together his own well-being had become linked to
Chakotay's. The older man's happiness lightened his own
spirits, and his pain filled Weyoun with a confusing need to
comfort and protect.

The Vorta stopped and closed his eyes as he acknowledged a
fundamental truth: with Chakotay he felt complete. More
fulfilled than on any day of any life he'd ever had. Yes, he
loved Chakotay. A sense of wonder filled him as he said the
words out loud to the empty cabin, savoring every syllable.

Then a frown tightened the pale face as Weyoun resumed
pacing. Should he tell Chakotay of his feelings? The older
man really hadn't offered any clue to his own, despite how
comfortable they'd become with each other. Weyoun wasn't
sure he could offer his heart not knowing if it was wanted.

No, it wouldn't be fair. Especially if Weyoun's newly
awakened protective instincts won out and he disappeared
into the night. He would save his avowals of love until the
danger was past.

The light eyes filled with a new determination. He may not
speak of love, but he *would* experience it. Until they were
in orbit around Bajor, he would treasure each and every
moment with Chakotay. And not just the comfort of his
embrace.

Decisions made, he turned on his heel and strode into the
bedroom.

***************

Geron idly ran his fingers along the strong face resting in
his lap. "Now, isn't this better than me sitting at the Conn
and you at the sensors *way* over there?"

Ayala turned his head slightly, silently encouraging the
wandering digits to explore his neck. He was comfortably
sprawled on his side on the blanket-covered deck, with his
head laying across Geron's crossed legs and his eyes on the
quartered viewscreen. One section displayed the ship's
stats, another the sensor readings, a third the special
schematic that had revealed the cloaked ship, and the last
the stars streaking past as the DreamCatcher sped toward
Bajor. He gave a contented sigh and claimed one of Geron's
stroking hands. He kissed the back, then the palm. "I freely
admit it, you're a genius, querido."

Geron blushed as he always did at his lover's praise. His
left hand moved to card through curly dark locks. "I'm going
to miss the guys during these split shifts, but I'm always
glad to get some time alone with you. Besides, maybe some
privacy is all the other two need."

"Need to what?" Ayala asked.

"To get together, of course. I've never seen Chakotay look
at anyone the way he does our pale friend, and it's clear
that Weyoun adores him." He shrugged. "What could be easier?
They're already sharing a bed."

Ayala shook his head, temporarily dislodging his lover's
fingers. "You forgot what's sharing that mattress with them.
Chakotay's sense of honor. He'll never make the first move,
no matter how much he wants, or even loves Weyoun."

"But that doesn't make any sense. What does honor have to do
with anything?"

"Probably he thinks it wouldn't be right, Tem. Chakotay
would never take advantage of an innocent, and that's
exactly what Weyoun is. The reason they're as close as they
are now is probably because Chakotay's feeling so much he
can't help himself. But he won't take that next step so
soon. He may not even do anything after this is all over."
Ayala frowned, thinking aloud. "Yeah, he'll probably let
Weyoun go so he can experience life on his own, even date
other people. Keeping a careful eye on him of course, but
just as a friend."

He shifted to meet the dark eyes above him. "And then, when
he's *finally* sure that Weyoun would be with him by choice
and not out of gratitude, he'll let himself admit he's in
love." Ayala gave a wistful, reminiscent smile. "I can
understand how Chakotay feels. It was the same with you and
me." He reached up to stroke his lover's soft cheek. His
voice was husky. "You meant way too much for me to take the
risk of screwing it up. I had to be sure that you really
wanted me, you didn't just think you owed us something
because we'd gotten you out of that camp."

"I remember." Geron fondly tweaked his lover's nose. "Silly
man. If it was just gratitude I'd have gone after Chakotay.
He *is* the one who rescued me." His eyes roamed tenderly
over the face below him. "It was always you, Greg. No matter
who else was around, my world was empty until you walked
into the room."

Ayala whispered, "I love you, Tem." They kissed, long and
slow and deep.

When they broke for air, Ayala lifted himself up and knelt
on the blanket as Geron mirrored his position with a puzzled
expression. He waited as Ayala claimed both of his hands.

The older man cleared his throat nervously. "When we get to
Bajor, what's say we round up a Vedek and make this
official?"

The Bajoran's eyes lit with love and a gentle teasing.
"You're proposing? Hmm...I'm not sure," he drawled, "I'm
quite a catch, you know."

Ayala seized the younger man in a tight embrace. "Well
*I've* caught you," he growled, "and I'm not letting you go
anytime soon."

Geron laughed and turned to face the viewscreen again,
settling back against the taller man's chest. "I'm sure
you'll manage to persuade me to say yes soon enough." He
rested his hands on the strong arms enfolding him. "I just
hope Weyoun can do the same." The two men fell silent as
they contemplated the ship and the stars.

***************

Chakotay noted the empty living area as he walked into his
cabin. He quietly moved toward the bedroom, figuring that
Weyoun was already asleep.

He'd spent his time in the kitchen sternly reminding himself
of the reasons for not becoming intimate with Weyoun. They
were very good reasons, but for the first time in his life
Chakotay was really struggling to do the right thing. His
attraction to the younger man was as impossible to fight as
the tide. The instant Chakotay would lay eyes on the Vorta
he wanted to be beside him. Honestly, to touch him, kiss
him, enfold him and never release him from the embrace. To
love and cherish him. For the most part, Chakotay had
managed to keep his hands to himself. But it was a very near
thing. Perhaps they *should* have separate rooms.

Chakotay paused in the bedroom doorway, fighting to keep his
distance as he spied Weyoun curled up in Chakotay's robe on
top of the covers. The younger man's skin was still dewy
from a just-finished shower or bath.

Weyoun looked up as he heard the door and locked eyes with
Chakotay. He felt himself sinking into those dark pools that
he hoped held the heat of desire as well as the warmth of
affection. Never breaking the stare he slowly stood and
walked over to the frozen man.

Chakotay was caught in the pull of those sea-spun eyes,
drowning in the emotions he saw glimmering in their depths.
The litany of anti-relationship warnings he'd been chanting
just moments before were becoming murky and indistinct as he
was flooded by a sudden rush of tenderness and desire. He
opened his mouth to speak, to try and break the spell, but
was stopped by a single pale finger against his lips.

Weyoun dropped his eyes to focus on that lush mouth. He
desperately wanted to know its texture, taste, the heat of
its breath against his skin. He gathered his courage and
again met Chakotay's eyes. His voice was quiet, but
absolutely sure. "You think I can't know what I want." His
lips gave a wry twist. "That I'm too young and innocent to
possibly be sure of how I feel. But I have been alive far
longer than you, and I have met thousands of people in the
course of those lifetimes."

The Vorta slowly ran his fingertip along that carved portal,
following the delicate curves of the upper lip and the
fullness of the lower. His expression turned serious and his
voice trembled with intensity. "No one has affected me the
way you do. When I'm with you, I'm not the Founders' slave
or the Dominion's butcher. I'm the man you found in that
stasis chamber, the one you've opened your home and your
life to." His hand stilled as he pleaded, "You make me
believe that right here, right now, is all that matters.
Please, Chakotay. Touch me. Make me real, so I'll never
doubt who I am again."

Chakotay helplessly surrendered to the siren call of those
tear-filled aqua eyes, the words that struck to his soul. He
yielded with a quiet groan and pressed a kiss to the
fingertip still resting on his mouth. Then he gently removed
the restraining hand and brought both of his own up to
lightly grip the back of the pale neck, his thumbs
delicately brushing the place where Weyoun's ridges flowed
into the smooth line of his jaw.

His voice was fierce as he held the younger man's eyes.
"Know this: your life is your own. It doesn't matter if the
others shared your face and name, you're no more responsible
for them than you would be for the actions of a brother."
His eyes closed as he pressed butterfly kisses along the
snow-white forehead and cheeks and down the regal nose.

He drew back far enough to meet the Vorta's eyes. "No matter
what the future holds, Weyoun, you are a treasure I will
always be grateful to have found." Then Chakotay's
expression filled with the desire that he'd kept in check
since Altos IV. The men were the same height, so he leaned
in to set his lips against the soft mouth that had never
known another's touch.

Weyoun was stunned by the sudden heat in Chakotay's gaze. He
felt frozen with anticipation and uncertainty as he watched
the older man's mouth approach to cover his own. His eyes
drifted shut, heightening the feelings: the warm hands
gently cradling his head and that soft, soft mouth brushing,
then pressing against him.

Chakotay lightly traced his tongue along the seam of
Weyoun's lips, giving a soft sigh as they parted to welcome
him. He ventured cautiously into the wet heat, slowly
stroking the younger man's palate, entwining their tongues
in a lazy dance, tasting the sweetness of his lover's
essence.

Weyoun moaned and dropped his head back, unconsciously
offering himself to those tantalizing lips. He felt
Chakotay's hands twine themselves in his hair, holding him
still while the older man's mouth traveled over his skin. He
felt kisses pressed along his jawline, then the tip of
Chakotay's tongue exploring each hollow in the ridges that
framed his face. The sensations were indescribable, sending
electric pulses sparking along his nerves and blood pooling
in his groin. He moaned again.

Chakotay moved his hands to trace the path along the ridges
he'd just tasted as his mouth moved to the snowy throat,
kissing, licking, then lightly biting the sweet flesh. He
felt Weyoun's hands clenching against his chest, fingers
twisting fabric as the Vorta shuddered in reaction. The
younger man's responses were fueling Chakotay's desire, and
he felt himself at the edge of his control. He drew back and
waited until a dazed blue-green gaze met his own. "Are you
sure?" he asked in a husky whisper.

Weyoun smiled tenderly at the anxious expression on
Chakotay's face. He laid a hand against the bronze cheek,
then pressed a firm kiss on the older man's lips. "Very
sure," he said as he reached for the knot in the belt of his
robe.

"Wait." Chakotay stilled the delicate fingers, then took a
step back and began to unbutton his shirt. He smiled at the
sudden interest in the Vorta's expression as he stripped,
then stepped from the pile of clothes soon puddled at his
feet.

Weyoun swallowed and nervously fiddled with the cloth still
covering him. As his vision filled with Chakotay's powerful
bronze body once more, he felt a sudden frisson of fear.
Though he'd never known anything but gentleness at this
man's hands, could he be trusted not to use that obvious
strength to overwhelm Weyoun in the heat of passion?

Chakotay saw the uncertainty reflected in the vulnerable
face before him. He reclaimed Weyoun's hand and laid it
against his own heart. "I swear to you, my treasure, I will
never hurt you. Please, trust me." His voice dropped to a
whisper. "Touch me."

Weyoun was filled with a sense of wonder as he ran both
hands along Chakotay's body. The warm skin gleamed darkly
against his own, and was softer than any material he'd ever
felt. The younger man traced the muscles of the broad chest
and sharply defined abdomen, then slid around to stroke up
to Chakotay's nape and back down to cover the rounded
buttocks. Weyoun's fingers explored the muscled thighs, then
moved to their juncture. He brushed through the dark strands
surrounding the rose-tipped cock, enchanted by the softness
of the hair and the silky hardness of the shaft. And through
it all Chakotay remained absolutely still, the darkening of
his eyes and the faint shivering of his limbs the only hints
of his struggle to stay quiet under his lover's
explorations.

Weyoun looked into Chakotay's face and recognized affection
as well as desire. He felt the tension in his gut unknot
even as he untied his belt and slid the robe off his
shoulders. He grabbed Chakotay's hands, bringing them to
rest against his own chest in invitation. He caught his
breath as Chakotay gave the Vorta a dazzling, tender smile,
leaned over and swung him up into those powerful arms. After
three steps nestled against Chakotay's body Weyoun felt the
coverlet at his back.

Chakotay straightened, drinking in the work of art below
him. Weyoun's white skin stood out in bold relief against
the dark green cover. After taking a deep breath to regain
some measure of calm, Chakotay knelt on the mattress at the
foot of the bed. To Weyoun's startlement, the older man
began stroking his feet and ankles, running his fingers
lightly over the bones. As his hands moved to follow the
curve of the pale calves and tickle behind Weyoun's knees,
his lips descended to follow the trail his fingers had
blazed.

Weyoun was panting and making small noises even he couldn't
define as Chakotay moved up to encase his thighs with those
capable hands. He felt them shift to grip his hips as
lips---and now a silky, maddening tongue---played over his
flesh. He held his breath as Chakotay's head moved higher.

Chakotay was trying to decide what to call the sounds the
younger man was making, something between a sob and a sigh.
Chakotay gave a wicked, two-dimple grin as he recognized an
unmistakable grunt of frustration as he bypassed the
mauve-tinged cock and instead levered up to lap at the white
shoulders. He traced the muscles of each arm with his hands,
then continued to catalog Weyoun's different flavors as he
moved down the slender limbs to the delicate fingers. He
sucked each one, admiring their graceful length.

Weyoun felt gentle hands spread his arms and legs, then the
heat of Chakotay's body as the bronze man moved to hover
above his pale lover. He lifted his arms to run his hands
over the bronze shoulders and scratch lightly down the
muscled back, feeling Chakotay quiver against him in
reaction.

Chakotay thought Weyoun's smile was just a bit too
self-satisfied, so he captured the Vorta's lower lip between
his own, giving the impudent curve a light tug and nip.
Pleased when the passionate haze returned to the aqua eyes
as the younger man gave a startled gasp, Chakotay returned
his focus to the expanse of snowy torso he had yet to
explore. The mauve nipples were already hard points, so he
lowered his own chest to feel them brush against his skin,
releasing his own moan of pleasure.

Weyoun felt that powerful chest reverberate against his own
and lifted himself slightly, hoping closer contact would
relieve the tension he could feel building. He made a sound
of disappointment when Chakotay slid away slightly, then a
louder one of approval when that talented mouth began
exploring the muscles of his chest.

Weyoun wove his fingers into his lover's silky hair and felt
himself tense as the head beneath his hands moved to one of
the burning points on his chest. His nipples felt tight,
unfamiliar, and his whole body seemed to be anticipating the
next sensation. When it came---a gentle nuzzling followed by
a thorough lick and then a shocking, decisive bite---Weyoun
almost screamed at the pleasure. A cool breath on the
tingling, pebbled skin sent uncontrollable shudders down his
frame as his groin tightened even further.

Chakotay had never had such a responsive lover. Even as he
made his way to the other side of Weyoun's chest, he knew he
couldn't linger much longer or the slow build of pleasure
would cross the line into frustrated pain. After ministering
to the neglected nipple, Chakotay left his hands to tweak
and play with both nubs as his mouth moved south. He briefly
but thoroughly covered the expanse of white skin leading to
Weyoun's throbbing, leaking cock. He sampled the balls
beneath first, marveling at the unusual texture of their
completely hairless, smooth sac. Then he licked his lips in
anticipation and eyed his final destination.

Weyoun felt like a wire stretched taut between two poles:
desire and anxiety. His whole body thrummed as he watched
Chakotay's lips open as they neared the Vorta's weeping
shaft. Weyoun had dropped his hands to take a desperate grip
on the coverlet; he knew otherwise he'd be digging furrows
into Chakotay's smooth flesh. The hands tormenting his
nipples left as Chakotay braced his elbows on the mattress
and narrowed his concentration to his lover's center of
desire.

Weyoun's head fell back and he closed his eyes, wanting to
focus on his sense of touch. Chakotay's tongue lapped at the
precum beading the head of Weyoun's cock, digging strongly
into the slit. He groaned and instinctively thrust up,
seeking greater contact. Lips wrapped around the base,
slowly sucking up one side then nibbling down the other.

When Chakotay finally took Weyoun fully into his mouth, the
younger man imagined he was somehow sinking into a pool of
melted chocolate: being submerged and surrounded by the
confection's warm, clinging, sliding silk. He was desperate
to finish and grabbed Chakotay's head to hold it in place
above him, thrusting into the wet warmth that welcomed him.

Chakotay recognized a man on the edge, so he relaxed and let
Weyoun fuck his mouth with abandon. Each time Weyoun started
his withdrawal Chakotay sucked, increasing his grip on the
retreating organ, then loosening to let the younger man go
as deep as he wanted. His hands slid to cup the flexing
buttocks, not to control his lover but to increase the
feeling of connection. He was hard put not to push into the
mattress himself to relieve the pressure of his own erection
as he watched the gleaming form beneath him writhe as he
climbed toward his first orgasm.

Weyoun knew *something* had to happen as the tension became
overwhelming. He felt his balls draw up tight to his body as
he thrust once more, then screamed at the sudden explosion
of feeling. His vision sparkled with stars as blood pounded
in his veins and fluid gushed in a heated stream out of his
cock and down Chakotay's throat. He seemed to hang forever
in that exquisite moment of release, then sank back onto the
bed, sweaty and boneless and utterly replete.

Chakotay swallowed Weyoun's release, liking the sweet, alien
flavor. He licked the spent organ clean, then pressed a
quick trail of kisses up the supine body until the men were
again face to face. He tenderly stroked the younger man's
curly locks, now slightly less springy as if they too needed
a bit of a break. He smiled, content for the moment to
forget his own needs and bask in the contentment he felt at
bringing his lover---no, he admitted to himself, his
beloved---his first taste of pleasure.

Weyoun floated in the aftermath of bliss as his heartbeat
gradually slowed and his breathing calmed. He came back to
his senses filled with contentment; he was cradled in
Chakotay's arms as the big man's powerful hands stroked his
hair and face. He was blanketed in the warmth of the body
curled against him, lightly pressing him into the bed.

As he arched slightly in a satisfied stretch he became aware
of Chakotay's erection as his thigh brushed against its
heat. He felt the bronze body shudder in response as
Chakotay moaned, then clenched his lower lip between his
teeth.

Weyoun lifted a hand to stroke a thumb against the
passion-swollen mouth. The other traveled to Chakotay's
shoulder, lazily tracing the muscles curving under silk-soft
skin. He felt faint tremors run through the flesh beneath
his palms. "What do you want, Chakotay?" he breathed.

Chakotay felt his desire awaken with a vengeance. He wanted
to claim Weyoun completely, to connect with him in the most
primal of ways. But he couldn't bear to pressure the younger
man into doing something he may not be ready for. He gave a
small smile and turned his head to kiss the hand resting
against his face. "Anything that feels right to you."

Weyoun sensed the older man was holding back. He suddenly
pushed Chakotay flat on his back and loomed over him, nose
to nose. "There's more, isn't there. I want all of it,
Chakotay. All of you." He sat up and crossed his arms, eyes
blazing. "Show me," he demanded. "Now."

Strangely enough, Weyoun's abrupt command reassured
Chakotay. It reminded him that though this body was new, the
Vorta was a mature adult who made his own decisions. As much
as Weyoun had trusted him, Chakotay had to trust Weyoun to
know his own mind. As he sat up his eyes rekindled, raking
the snowy, flawless skin. "Are you sure?" he rasped.

Weyoun felt his heart melt at Chakotay's willingness to
stop, even when his body was shaking with unfulfilled
desire. His eyes glowed as he sank his hands into the
straight dark hair. "Make love to me, Chakotay," he said and
kissed him.

Chakotay moaned as Weyoun's tongue clumsily but
enthusiastically plundered his mouth. His own arms reached
to enfold the younger man as he rolled to lay down and fully
cover the slender form. The two men mingled breaths as they
spent long minutes exploring each other's mouths. The older
man suddenly pulled away to fumble in a bedside drawer.
Pulling out a bottle of massage oil, he returned to kneel
between Weyoun's spread legs. Serious brown eyes met newly
aroused blue-green. "I'm going to go as slowly as I can. Let
me know if you need me to stop."

Weyoun nodded and lay back, resting on his elbows as he
watched Chakotay arrange his legs atop his own muscled
thighs. He saw the bronze hands carefully open the bottle
and smooth some oil on the dark cock. Weyoun was amazed at
the older man's control; it seemed like he must have been
erect forever.

Chakotay liberally coated his fingers with oil and careful
stroked the cleft in the pale cheeks. He spread them gently,
seeking the puckered orifice. He traced a finger around it,
watching Weyoun's face for any sign of discomfort as he
slowly pushed in. He saw the aqua eyes unfocus as the Vorta
concentrated on the internal sensations. Chakotay withdrew
and coated two fingers, returning to scissor them within the
tight, hot passage. At three fingers he burrowed in a little
deeper, hoping that Vortas were not too dissimilar to
humans. He didn't think he could go through with their
joining if Weyoun was incapable of sharing in the pleasure.

The younger man gave a sudden yelp as a bolt of lightning
shot up his spine. He felt like his hair stood on end, so
powerful was the feeling. "What was that?" he panted and
felt his cock stir once more.

Chakotay's wide smile radiated passion, tenderness and
profound relief. "In humans, it's called a prostate gland."
Lubricant was pushed in with four fingers as he stroked that
special spot again, delighted to feel Weyoun rising to meet
his hand. He pulled out to the younger man's groan and
cradled the slim hips a moment. Then he took the pale legs
and lifted them over his shoulders. He placed his cock at
the stretched opening. "Look at me, Weyoun."

Weyoun locked his eyes on the tense face as he felt
Chakotay's cock begin to enter him. A faint burning
accompanied the breach, but that soon faded in the rise of
desire. He felt his lover push forward slightly, then pull
back, moving further in on each stroke. The younger man
reveled in the fullness and sense of connection.

Chakotay slid deeper into the tight heat, stopping when his
pelvis rested against Weyoun's ass. He took a few deep
breaths, trying to give the younger man a moment to get used
to being filled. "You okay?"

That stretched-wire feeling was starting again. Weyoun knew
he needed more than words to answer his still-hesitant
lover. He lay down and used his arms for leverage in a
thrust that sent the shaft inside him bumping against that
special spot. "More!" he shouted as lightning struck again.

That push seemed to drop a final barrier in Chakotay.
Tightly gripping Weyoun's hips, he thrust into the heated
channel clenching around his cock. As his lover continued to
meet each stroke, he plunged faster and harder, listening to
his lover's choked screams each time his gland was hit. One
hand desperately grabbed the leaking cock bobbing in front
of him, fisting it in time with his movements.

Weyoun felt touched to his soul. He was merging with
Chakotay: seared by his heat, surrounded by his scent,
filled with his passion. He craved the flood of Chakotay's
cum, to have his lover's essence absorbed deep into his own
body. He felt as wild as the dark eyes that glittered above.
The tension inside him built and built until finally the
wire snapped. He threw back his head with a howl as his
orgasm rocketed through him.

Chakotay felt the cock in his hand erupt as the channel
sheathing him clamped down, drawing him into his own roar of
release. He frantically plunged forward, emptying himself
into that taut pale body. He barely had the presence of mind
to release Weyoun's legs and brace himself as he fell
forward. He pressed his sweat-beaded forehead into the pale
neck, feeling the frantic pulse beating in time with his
own. Both men were still shaking in the aftermath, barely
conscious.

After a few minutes, Chakotay raised his head and looked
into hazy pools of satiation. In that moment he wanted to
offer his heart, his home, his hand in marriage. Instead, he
reminded himself that making love was very different than
being in love. He couldn't force his feelings on Weyoun; the
man needed time and freedom to find his own way, hopefully
to Chakotay's side. And questions of the past had to be
settled before tackling the future. He searched the Vorta's
face. "You okay?" he asked again.

Weyoun had a not-so-surprising sense of déjà vu. He stayed
silent as he debated answering "Yes, if you're giving me
your heart as well as your body." or "No, not until you
promise to be mine forever." He finally decided on an
impudent grin and his answer from earlier. "More."

Chakotay looked stunned, then his eyes narrowed as he
watched those quirking lips stretch into a sudden yawn.
"Yeah right," he replied. When the mouth finally closed, he
pressed a kiss against it, then rubbed noses. "Don't go
anywhere," he said as he lifted himself from the bed.

"Yeah right," Weyoun echoed as he turned to watch Chakotay
stride toward the bathroom. He was equally impressed with
his lover's rear view, especially the rounded buttocks that
shifted slightly with each step.

He lay back down as the bronze body passed out of his line
of sight. He stared at the molded ceiling, feeling as though
he had truly been reborn. He was unique among his people: a
clone who had experienced sex, whose soul had been touched
by love. Weyoun was still in awe.

When Chakotay approached the bed with a warm wet towel he
realized Weyoun had fallen asleep. The Vorta's only response
to his lover's ministrations was a contented sigh. Chakotay
was relieved that Weyoun's body didn't show any damage from
their passionate encounter. He couldn't bear to hurt this
treasure entrusted to him.

Chakotay threw the used towel back toward the bathroom, then
gently lifted the slender form to toss back the bedcovers.
He laid Weyoun back down, then walked around the bed to
settle beside him. He threw an arm around the younger man's
waist and let himself drift off to the land of dreams.

TBC
END OF PART THREE