Anonymity - Chapter 2

Rating: R
Disclaimer: See first chapter - I don't own anything.

The bar was dark, unlit except for the swirling colours lighting up the dancefloor on the other side of the room and the lights behind the bar. It was also warm, smoky, loud and very anonymous. Perfect, thought Trip, as he let his eyes adjust and realised that he could see very little other than dark silhouettes. Absolutely perfect.

He made his way over to the bar and ordered one of the exotic cocktails that were, according to his data on this place, "the finest this side of the galaxy". Turning round in his seat and taking a sip from the brightly coloured straw, he had to agree. This thing sure had a kick – he'd have no trouble getting drunk tonight! He had a good view from his position on the bar stool – he could see the entrance and the dancefloor in his peripheral vision, as well as most of the tables that littered the venue. It seemed other people had had the same idea as he had – there were several odd-looking couples near to him indulging in varying levels of "anonymous activities". Trip chuckled to himself as he took one last slurp from his straw. Drink finished and feeling pleasantly light-headed, he placed the empty glass on the bar and headed off into the crowds on the dancefloor.

He couldn't help it. Although Malcolm knew there were no rules against officers going to alien gay bars on shore leave, he still felt as if he were doing something wrong. That, and his desire to remain in the closet, were the main reasons he had hung around on this beach for so long after he had seen Trip heading the way he was going. He had no desire to be seen by anyone, least of all the man he fancied like crazy, going into a gay bar, especially as Trip would probably then put two and two together and realise Malcolm feelings for him were considerably more than friendly. Which was why, half an hour after the shuttle had landed, Malcolm was still to be found loitering suspiciously by the beach, in full view of any crew member who might walk past. It was this thought that eventually made up his mind for him, and made him move off towards his destination.

As soon as he stepped through the tinted glass doors of the bar, he knew that he had come to the right place. It was smoky, noisy, and, best of all, very dark. He could come nose to nose with the captain in here and wouldn't realise. Though, he thought, looking at the activities of some of the silhouettes vaguely discernable on the dancefloor, maybe that wasn't such a good thing. Stepping up to the bar, he ordered some Dutch courage to help him through the evening. And bloody good it was too, as the felt the burning in the back of his throat. Still, he ordered another, just to be on the safe side, before sliding off his stool and heading towards the mass of dancers.

Trip had discovered the best thing about this place yet, he realised. Servers moved through the crowds on the dancefloor, glowing faintly so as to be recognisable, with a seemingly unlimited supply of drinks. Trip had lost count of how many he had had now, and had given himself up completely to the dancing. However, he was less pleased about the lack of single males on the floor. All the normal sized ones – for that was about all he could tell about his fellow dancers in this light – seemed to be taken. And nobody seemed to want to go for a Trip-sized dancer.

Just as he was about to give up for the moment and go back to the bar for a breather, he caught sight of a promising-looking single man. He was faintly illuminated in the glow of the waiter he was getting a drink from, and Trip could just about make out dark hair, a tight shirt and very tight trousers made of some shiny material. He was about Trip's height, and as the waiter moved off, Trip moved forwards. Taking a deep breath, he placed one hand on the other man's hip, catching him by surprise. The man jumped and turned around, seeming to look Trip up and down while he took a swig of his drink. Next thing Trip knew, there was a strong arm around his waist and the two were dancing.

Malcolm had nearly had a heart attack when he had felt a hand on his hip just after buying a drink from a glowing but not completely unattractive waiter. However, after turning round and contenting himself that the stranger was too short to be Captain Archer (at some point during the evening this had become a real worry for him) he had accepted that dancing with him could be fun. And dancing was what they had been doing for the last... Malcolm didn't have a clue.

What he did suddenly realise was that he had finished his drink a long time ago, and for some reason was still holding the empty bottle. He dropped it on the floor and moved his hand to his partner's behind instead. The man gave a quick start, but then pulled Malcolm closer so that their two bodies were touching. He felt a surge of pleasure run through his body, and looked up from their joined hips to find his face centimetres from his partner's. Without another thought, he closed the gap between them, kissing him with an intensity matched only by the other man's. When Malcolm felt a tongue floating lightly over his lips, he opened his mouth and responded in kind, letting his partner draw a moan out of him. He felt, rather than heard, the same response coming from the mouth on his. Running his hands over the skin on the other man's chest, he felt him latch onto his neck and cried out with pleasure and pain.

Trip couldn't think. Every part of his body was over-sensitized so that even the lightest touch turned him on even more. The man in his arms smelt and tasted so good he couldn't let go for even one second. He could tell that his partner was as aroused as he was, and was using every ounce of willpower he had not to suggest a hotel room nearby. He knew, though, that this would spoil the anonymity of the encounter and was determined not to let that happen. This way, when he relived the encounter, he could imagine Malcolm's face where there was none at the moment.

The thought of Malcolm turned him on even more, especially when he thought of how deliciously illicit it was to be fantasizing about his colleague and friend while rubbing himself up against this man. It made him reckless, and he unzipped the fly on his partner's trousers, delighting in the gasp against his cheek as he made contact with hot, bare skin.

Please review! I tried to make this a bit longer than last chapter - hope it was better =)