Trip paced in his quarters, indecision and anxiety eating at the lining of his stomach like acid. He couldn't walk away, he couldn't turn his back, he couldn't just let the best thing - person - to come into his life get away without at least trying. So why was this so hard? Why couldn't he just go do what was needed?
A fist to his wall and an issuance of angry expletives momentarily paused his pacing, but it didn't last. He had too much nervous energy. This was getting ridiculous. He'd been mapping this section of his floor with his feet for the last half hour. Abruptly, he turned and followed a new path. Maybe in another half hour he could go...
But no. He needed that time. If he was going to do this. Should he? He didn't know. He didn't want to ruin his relationships, but at the same time, he had to know for certain that what he wanted was firmly out of reach, always forbidden. He snorted at the irony and unfairness of the situation. He was the one that had always been there. He was the one that had provided comfort. He was the one that had been the solid, reliable, trustworthy friend, but he'd still been overlooked. Passed over and tossed out like last week's milk. He punched the palm of his hand.
He was Charles Tucker the Third. He was passionate, decisive, strong-willed. He had something he wanted, and by god he was going to get it. Or at least go after it. He nodded on himself, emphasising his own point. Mind made up, he strode out of his quarters and headed for the turbolift, at an upbeat pace, afraid he'd change his mind if he didn't hurry.
He punched the buzzer with more force than was strictly necessary, but he didn't care. He had a mission. He muttered angrily under his breath, pacing with his hands clenched together behind his back in front of the door, waiting for admittance. After a lifetime, the invitation came and the door slid open. He forcefully marched in, coming to stand at attention before his Captain, his chin cocked higher than was strictly proper.
He didn't care. He wasn't here on official business. This was personal. Very personal. "Cap'n." He shifted anxiously, relaxing into a less formal posture. "Jon," he hesitated, gathering his courage and plowing on. "I know you love Malcolm, and you know I was tryin' to stay outta your way so you could start a relationship with him, but I...I jus' can't let him go, not with tryin'. But, I'm not lookin' to butt in on your relationship and steal 'im away from you," yet, he thought. "I... I want to be included, if that's alright with you and Malcolm."
Trip's face was hard, set, showing his honesty and determination, eyes blazing. He awaited Archer's response, the lengthening time without an answer drove his chin up again as he settled back into a rigid stance.
Upon hearing Trip's...proposal, Archer felt like a fish out of water. He hoped he didn't look like one, though he knew his jaw was slack, he didn't think it was quite hanging open, and he didn't think his eyes were bulging. Much. He had known... He spluttered, watching as Trip's face grew more determined. Fuck. "Trip, I... don't really know what to say. I don't want to ruin my relationship with either of you. You're my best friend, but I realise what Malcolm means to you, the look on your face when you see him mirrors mine. I love you like a brother - " Trip pursed his lips and looked at a point behind his head - "but I can see what this means to you. I'd rather not be caught in between, having to fight my best friend to keep my lover." He took a deep, calming breath, speaking softly. "If it's what Malcolm wants, if he approves, I won't turn you down."
Trip instantly relaxed, hands unclenching and falling from each other, an eyebrow raising as he nodded. "Thank you, Jon. You don't know how much just the chance means to me. Or, actually you probably do. I didn't want to lose your friendship, either, I jus' knew I'd always regret it if I never tried. I don't do regrets." He gestured to the bed, "Mind if I sit next to you?" Archer shook his head, and Trip sat, both waiting for their love to walk through the door.
The buzzer rang minutes later, and Archer smiled, one he reserved for more private moments with Malcolm, tender, loving, so soft, and Trip steadfastly ignored it as he felt shards of glass flay his heart. He stood, waiting. Instead of just allowing him entrance, Archer had gone to the door to open it and gather the waiting Malcolm into a tender embrace, kissing him passionately as soon as he stepping into the room. Trip stared hard at the floor, determined to not grow jealous.
When the two broke apart, Archer gestured to him, one arm still around Malcolm's waist, "Trip has something he wants to ask you." Malcolm finally looked over, registering his presence with a slight smile. Archer backed away to give the two some modicum of privacy, and Trip stepped forward, gripping Malcolm's forearms as he stared at him for a moment, then enveloping him in a hug.
"Malcolm," he whispered to him. "You know I love you, right?" He felt the small nod. He continued whispering, reminding him of the hesistant, loving kiss they'd share, telling him of his love and of his desires. Malcolm stared at him for long moments as Trip waited his answer.
Slowly, Malcolm nodded, wrapping his arms around him, and Trip tilted his head down, capturing Malcolm's lips with his own, putting all the love he felt for him in it. A discreet coughing brought them apart, both smiling at each other as they turned their attention to their third partner. Hand in hand, they walked towards him.