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Archer looked at the outfit laid out on his bed, and sighed.
He was looking forward to the ceremony, really. It honestly sounded cool as hell: an official commemoration of the new alliance, some kind of traditional celebratory ritual, complete with fancy dress and a nice dinner. But it was going to be weird, going to an official function on Andoria and not seeing his favorite Andorian there.
He had tried, of course. Been eager, in fact, to finally have an excuse to call Shran that didn't amount to I just wanted to talk, because I'm not over you. But Shran had set him straight immediately.
"I wouldn't be allowed at the ceremony, even at your personal invitation." Shran's listless antennae matched his defeated tone. At least he had both of them now. He'd been squirrely about turning visuals on for a while there.
"I just—I'm supposed to be one of the focal points, or whatever they called it. I should be able to invite whoever I like."
"Would that more people saw things your way," Shran said, and there was genuine affection in his tone.
He didn't even seem angry about it, but the unfairness grated terribly on Archer. It had all been Archer's fault anyway, for joining the Ushaan, but Shran was the only one paying the price.
Archer wanted to yell at people, to shake them, to make them understand what he understood. But how could he ever really explain what they had been through together? How he had gone to Shran's quarters to try to get him to back out, how they had argued over Archer's choice to participate... which somehow led to a different kind of going at it. How it was raw and reckless and real, and they were both crying a little by the time they collapsed in each other's arms.
"Listen," Shran had said after a while. "I'm going to lose."
"What? That's ridiculous," was Archer's automatic reaction.
"Jonathan," Shran said, softly but very firmly. "I'm going to lose. Just—just make it quick."
His hand trembled as he touched Archer's cheek. Archer took it and kissed it.
"You're not going to die, Shran. I promise."
"You can't promise that."
"Watch me."
Shran had kissed him then—searching, desperate, like he was trying to steal one last moment of happiness from the universe itself. Archer let him take it.
"I should get ready," was all Shran had said after that.
And then... then the rest of it had happened. Afterwards, when people started asking awkward questions about how Archer managed to win, Shran simply admitted he had lost on purpose, and immediately became persona non grata on Andoria. Stripped of his rank and all commendations, given a dishonorable discharge, and treated like a pariah. Even his own family refused to speak with him. It hurt to watch.
The worst part was that Shran had stayed completely silent about Archer's part in the whole mess. It was textbook conspiracy, by rights Archer's reputation should be ruined too. He didn't even care that much what Andoria thought of him—but Shran clearly did, and Archer wasn't about to waste his sacrifice, so he also kept quiet. Uncomfortably aware of the size of the favor he now owed, he had stayed on the lookout for opportunities to repay it. But he couldn't even swing an invitation to a party.
"Can I at least come visit you after the ceremony?" Archer asked, and Shran perked up.
"I would be amenable to that, if it's not too much trouble for you." The cautious optimism in Shran's voice hurt to hear. He had no idea how much Archer was tempted to ditch the event altogether and just run off with him.
"Shran, I have access to a transporter. Nowhere on the planet is too much trouble. Send me your address, all right?"
"I will," Shran said, and soon after Archer received the promised message. He was delighted to look it up and see Shran lived in Laibok, exactly where the ceremony was being held. It looked like walking distance, perfect for an overnight visit.
Plans made, overnight bag packed and ready, and shower taken. All Archer needed to do now was struggle into the clothes, remember his lines, and make as quick a getaway as possible.
The bottom layer was easiest: simple garments that were soft, warm, and clingy without being smothering. They covered everything from neck to ankle, mostly black but decorated at the ends with delicate patterns of blue and silver.
The dress was something else. There was a specific word for the thing, but Archer couldn't remember it at the moment, and anyway he was hard pressed to think of it as anything other than a dress. The top half reminded him of a kimono, with its long open sleeves and folded v-neck front.
But below the waist... was somewhat different. It went all the way down to his feet, but the slits on either side extended so perilously high that it became more like two panels than a single garment. The openings came all the way up to the very tops of his hipbones. Even though the panels had some weight to them, keeping them from flapping around too much, Archer would have been terrified to wear it in public if he hadn't had a layer on underneath.
It was gorgeous, though. A shimmering shifting blue, with looping silver filigree for decoration. The material was almost as slippery as it was shiny, and he struggled to get it situated on his person. Archer had begun to regret not asking for help getting dressed by the time he finally had it smoothed into place, and looped the not-quite-a-belt around his waist.
Last came the cape. It was simply magnificent, thick and heavy in solid blue with a generous fur collar and little gems sewn in that sparkled like stars in the night sky with every movement. It was fastened with an ostentatious jewel-encrusted clasp. Archer settled its weight over his shoulders, and couldn't resist petting the fur for a minute. Definitely felt like the real deal.
Ready to face the world, or at least Hoshi. She'd been doing the cultural research on this one, and had to inspect him for any potential blunders before he went down. Fortunately, she looked approving when he presented himself in the transporter room.
"Wow, it looks great," she said, giving him a close up and down. "Does everything fit?"
"Yeah, the fit is good. I didn't realize it was so... breezy, though." He'd drawn the cape pretty close around himself for the walk over, but with all the people hanging around the transporter room waiting to be beamed down, he felt the outfit was going to be a shipboard topic of conversation for a while.
"That's how it's supposed to look," Hoshi said, and shrugged. If she found it amusing, she was good at hiding it. "The fur should be as smoothed down as possible, let me help you with that. You remember your lines?"
Archer recited the words as she fussed over his collar. He wished he had started learning Andorian earlier, like he'd meant to. There never seemed to be enough time for it in between crises. All he'd really done for this was memorize the sounds to spit out in the correct order. Fortunately Hoshi was nodding along, and had no corrections for him.
"All good."
"You're clear to transport down, then," Trip said. He was ready at the controls. "You're going first, to meet up with the ambassador. The rest of us will come along in a minute."
"Could I prevail on somebody to bring this down and put it somewhere safe, then?" Archer held up his overnight bag.
"Gonna be a late night?" Trip looked amused.
"I have some free time after, might as well take advantage." Archer did his best to sound as casual as possible. Trip could guess where his captain planned to take advantage. Half the ship could probably guess, come to that. Archer felt a little hot under the collar, for reasons that had nothing to do with all the layers he was wearing.
"We'll let the bridge crew know you're not expected back, then." Trip was definitely trying not to smirk. At least he sounded fine with it. "I'll stow the bag for ya, hop up on the pad."
The ambassador was waiting for him when he beamed down. He wore an identical outfit to Archer's. The Andorian was tall and well-built, and definitely wore it better, in Archer's opinion. But maybe that was just his insecurity talking. The ambassador was offering a handshake in greeting, and his smile seemed genuine.
"Captain Archer!" he said.
"Ambassador ch'Thalevass," Archer replied, mentally crossing his fingers that he had the pronunciation correct. The ambassador's smile widened, so it seemed he had.
"I have heard much about you. It's an honor to finally meet you."
"The honor is all mine," Archer assured him.
Ironically enough, the formalization of the alliance had indeed involved a document being signed with a fancy pen while everyone clapped, just as Archer had once joked about, but Archer had been too busy to attend. Happily, this ceremony seemed just as important to Andoria, and whoever was in charge of it had been very insistent on having Archer there. So it was no exaggeration for him to say that he was honored.
He only wished he could have done it with the person he felt deserved half the credit.
Nothing to be done about it now, though. The ambassador wasn't a substitute, but he was good to have around. He pointed out where to stand so that the lighting would look best, patiently listened to Archer practice the vows one last time, and then they chatted about nothing much for a while.
And when they strode onto the stage from opposite sides, linked hands, and recited an ancient oath to respect, honor, and defend each other for as long as they both might persist, the audience of Enterprise crew and Andorian dignitaries erupted in applause, the alliance was complete, and Archer felt like all this running around exploring space and throwing himself headfirst into danger might just have been worth it after all.
He stuck around for a while afterward, of course. The reception was an important part of the ceremony, and he had to be seen enjoying himself around Ambassador ch'Thalevass. It was hardly an ordeal. The guy was pretty easy to spend time around, the food was good, and somebody had even brought a few bottles of genuine champagne, which Archer couldn't turn down.
But after about two hours of hobnobbing, he felt he had fulfilled his social obligations. So he made his excuses about being tired, picked up his overnight bag from where it had been stashed, tucked it under his cloak, and slipped out into the night.
The plan had been to change into the clothes he'd brought, but the fancy getup was way more comfortable than expected. The inner layer was warm enough to count as thermal underwear. Even though he could see his breath in the air, he didn't feel cold. He didn't have to return the outfit until tomorrow morning, either, so there was no need to bother with anything other than making his way to Shran's place.
It wasn't hard to find his way. He had, without really intending to, memorized Shran's address, and Laibok was laid out in a pretty intuitive way. It was nice to walk through town and play tourist for a bit. He did get weird looks from passersby, no doubt confused to see a random pinkskin in fancy dress, but they kept their judgments to themselves.
Less than fifteen minutes of walking later, he had made it. Archer triple checked that the number was correct, and squinted at the door that had seemingly been installed straight into an ice wall. Most of the other dwellings here looked similar. He couldn't tell whether they were houses, apartments, or if Andorians even bothered to draw such distinctions.
But hey, as long as the walls weren't thin enough to let the neighbors hear everything, what did it matter? Archer firmly told himself to stop hanging around on the doorstep like a weirdo, waiting for his sudden butterflies to calm, and just ring the chime.
It was answered almost immediately. Archer pictured Shran waiting next to the door for him, then mentally scolded himself for being so egotistical, then felt egotistical all over again at the way Shran stared at him.
"Hi," was all Archer could think to say.
"Oh," Shran replied. He looked downright astonished. Surely it wasn't that weird that Archer hadn't changed out of it yet. Or maybe he was taking it the wrong way, and it was a mistake to wear it anywhere other than the ceremony.
Well, no better place to take his clothes off than with the guy he was hoping to bang tonight, right?
"Can I come in?" Archer ventured, and it was almost funny how fast Shran snapped out of his reverie to open the door all the way with a babbled "Yes, yes, please come in."
It was noticeably warmer inside. Archer liked the idea that Shran had set the thermostat higher to make him happy. It would definitely make it easier to finally shed all these layers.
"You okay?" he felt the need to ask Shran, who had shut the door but was still staring him up and down.
"I didn't realize you would still be wearing..." Shran gestured vaguely at Archer. His expression was still hard to read, antennae twitching in a way Archer hadn't seen before.
"I was going to change, but it's comfortable enough that I didn't need to bother. I was hoping you'd be kind enough to help me take it off, though."
Archer winked, and moved to unhook the jeweled clasp of the cape. He didn't expect Shran to jump forward and stop him.
"No! Keep it—keep it on." Shran looked embarrassed at his outburst, and hurried to smooth down the fur along the shoulders. It felt nice to have Shran touching him, even through all the layers. "It looks good on you."
"I like to think so, but... keeping it on will make it tough to do what I was hoping to get to tonight," Archer pointed out.
"We'll find a way, trust me," Shran said, and the smirk on his face, and in his voice, made Archer feel warm all over—as did the way Shran's hands were traveling down his sides to sneak their way under the slits of the dress. They were on the same page after all.
He tossed his nearly-forgotten overnight bag on the floor, and got to work returning the favor on Shran. Shran was wearing something far less formal. Simple and single layered, it did little to hide his physique from Archer's hands. Shran purred at the touch, and grabbed shamelessly at Archer's ass, leaning into him and nuzzling at the fur cape.
Archer angled down to meet him, negotiating a slow, thorough kiss. Shran thumbed at the tiny jewels sewn into the top of the slits on each side, letting his other fingers find the seam of the under layer and start pulling it down. The touch of cool fingertips against his skin made Archer's dick throb in anticipation. Their previous shenanigans hadn't included a lot of foreplay, but damn, Shran was good at it. And he hadn't missed the effect he was having.
"So eager already?" he murmured, eyes gleaming with delight. He was pushing up against Archer, slowly crowding him into a wall as he worked the undergarment off. Archer was very happy to go.
"I can't help it, I missed you." Ooh, the way Shran's eyes flashed at that. Archer half hoped he was about to get pinned and—but he needed to finish getting Shran's clothes off for that, and the job was only half done.
Shran was in no hurry to finish his part. One leg pushing between Archer's, fingers trailing up and down his thighs, pushing his pants down the tiniest bit further with every pass. He leaned up, kissed his way along Archer's neck, and nuzzled the collar down to put his lips over the pulse point. Archer groaned and fumbled at Shran's waist, trying to disrobe him while half delirious with lust.
"I'm definitely gonna make a mess if you keep that up."
"Oh, I won't let you make a mess, not when you look this magnificent."
Shran sounded close to awe. He was very cooperatively stepping out of his pants as he put his mouth back to use. Archer's were only down far enough to free his erection from them, not that it mattered much since Shran was keeping the front drape of the dress over it while he shoved his thigh back between Archer's legs and ground slowly. Archer's breath hitched at the satin feel of the dress sliding against his dick, and he clutched at Shran's shoulders.
"O-ohh, ahh, aunnghhh," he pointed out.
"I suppose you have a point," Shran said, and the sensation disappointingly eased as he took half a step back. "Shouldn't risk it."
"Wasn't worried about that," Archer panted. He probably should be, he needed to return the thing at some point and had no idea how to clean it, but it was hard to care just now.
Shran was hastily patting down the fur in a futile attempt to get it to lie flat, and re-centering the cape before he pushed Archer against the wall in earnest. Archer settled himself to lean against it, keenly aware of being put on display. A feast for the eyes, if Shran's hungry look taking it all in was anything to go by.
"You shouldn't worry about anything, darling, not when you look this perfect." Shran kissed him hard, and Archer melted into it. He didn't realize Shran would go for pet names. It was kind of adorable.
Shran tugged on his pants, finally taking them off in earnest. Archer kicked them off, glad to get going. As soon as they were out of the way, Shran pulled up the front drape of the dress, practically tossed it over one of Archer's arms, and crowded him against the wall. It was exciting to finally be pressed flush, to feel his weight—and his strength, as he easily hauled one of Archer's legs off the ground to wrap around his waist.
"Are you ready for me?" Shran murmured. The question was made very clear by the way his hand wandered from Archer's thigh, around to his ass, to rub a fingertip against his entrance.
"Yeah." Archer squirmed eagerly, the better to rub his dick against Shran's belly in a not-so-subtle hint.
Shran seemed to get it, because he nodded in approval, made a low noise, and suddenly something slippery and hot was sliding along Archer's taint. He had everted almost straight into Archer's hole, to minimize the danger of getting his slick all over the clothes, and wasted little time getting the rest of the way.
Thank goodness Shran was self-lubricating. He'd done a little bit of prep during his shower, before dressing for the ceremony, but that had been hours ago—not a problem, thanks to the wonders of Andorian anatomy. All he had to do was cling to his partner, take deep breaths, and luxuriate in the stretch as Shran worked him open, getting a little further with every slow roll of the hips, unstoppable as the tide. The fullness got more intense with every centimeter, even better than he remembered.
As soon as he was fully seated, Shran started thrusting in earnest, jerking his hips hard and then pulling out slowly. It was very effective. Archer gasped at the intermittent pressure on his prostate, and the slap of flesh on flesh at the top of every stroke.
"O-oh, ohh, I've wanted you for so long, darling," Shran said. He was rubbing his cheek against the fur, antennae patting frantically all over Archer's face. He looked about as crazy as that pet name made Archer feel.
"Yeah, me too. At least we have each other now." Archer scrabbled at Shran's shoulders. Keeping ahold of the dress and his partner at the same time was more of a chore than expected. The stupid drape was so slippery it was practically trying to escape. Somehow he managed to keep it mostly out of the way while hanging on for dear life. It was difficult to have any active role in the proceedings while minding the clothes, but Shran didn't seem to mind doing most of the work.
"Yes," Shran said. He was speeding up, self-control beginning to crumble as he plowed into his human. One hand found its way to Archer's dick and started hastily jerking him off in time to the thrusts. "Yeessss..."
Archer didn't bother to form words in response, but he was pretty sure Shran understood how he felt, seemingly accelerating at every noise that fell out of his mouth. It didn't take long for them to build up to a breakneck pace. Shran was pumping hard now, watching him with such an intense look that Archer would have felt self-conscious if he weren't so close to cumming—and getting closer with every tap to his prostate.
"I'm, ah, I'm gonna," was all he managed between grunts.
"Not yet, darling, not yet," Shran said, and before Archer could blow from being called darling again, he had circled the base of Archer's dick with his fingers and was squeezing mercilessly.
"What—auuuhh—" Archer thrashed in confusion, suddenly unable to find release, even though Shran was jerking into him and making a long ragged noise of pleasure, clearly in the throes of his own orgasm.
"Don't... worry..." Shran panted. His grip was unwavering, even as the rest of him started to relax. "I've got you."
"What the hell," Archer complained. He couldn't remember being so frustrated in his life. He was so close—
"I told you, I wouldn't let you make a mess," Shran said. He was already pulling out, and starting a sort of lazy slide down Archer's front, grabbing at the front drape of the dress with his free hand and holding it out of the way. He flicked it over one shoulder—damn, he was nearly on his knees now.
Somehow Archer didn't see it coming when Shran slid his dick into his mouth. Oh fuck, that was so hot. Archer watched in disbelief as the better part of it disappeared past Shran's lips and into shocking wet heat.
It only took a moment of sucking and one teasing swirl of the tongue to bring Archer back to the brink, and then over. The constricting fingers were long gone, and Archer thumped his head against the wall and whined pathetically as he finally came, spurting into Shran's mouth. Shran swallowed dutifully, milking him for everything he would give before letting up.
"Okay, yeah, you did get me," Archer admitted once he could talk again. Thank everything he was already leaning against a wall. He felt distinctly weak in the knees as Shran released him.
"See? No mess," Shran explained, and coughed triumphantly.
"Great thinking," was all Archer felt up to saying.
"I suppose you'll need a towel for... for the rest of it. Don't move." Shran hastily got up and moved somewhere out of sight, coming back with a towel to bend back down and catch what was just starting to slide out of Archer's hole and down one thigh.
Archer lifted the dress out of the way to let him work, sliding an arm around Shran's shoulders and grunting at the little aftershocks that raced through him at every touch of the towel against his still-sensitive asshole. Shran was meticulous in mopping up everything he had just put into Archer, and the careful attention felt very nice. He spent a minute or two just enjoying Shran's work, before he remembered there was something he was curious about.
"Hey, can I ask you something?"
"What is it?"
"Why'd you call me darling?"
Shran's antennae twitched backwards.
"I—I apologize, I was too forward," he said quietly.
"Too forward? Shran, you just had my dick in your mouth, you can be as forward as you want. I was just curious, that's all."
Shran licked his lips at the reminder, but didn't look assuaged. He still wasn't making eye contact.
"Do you know what this is?" He indicated the dress and cape.
"I don't remember the Andorian word for it, if that's what you mean."
"Not exactly." Shran sighed. "It's... wedding garments. The traditional outfit worn to get married in. The ceremony you went to is a metaphorical marriage between our planets."
"Huh." Archer blinked slowly, taking in this news. The solemn vows to respect and protect each other made even more sense now. As did the champagne.
"And darling is—something people call each other after marriage." Shran's voice was quieter than ever now, and he seemed to be trying to hide his face against Archer's thigh. His antennae were drooping so low they were practically limp.
Shran wasn't just embarrassed. He was ashamed.
Archer didn't see why, though. Sure, he might have liked to be told all that before the proceedings, but it hadn't been Shran who put him in this outfit and did a whole pretend marriage without bothering to actually explain it.
Besides, he liked being called "darling," not to mention hearing that Shran thought of him as marriage material. Shran's job had required him to show a lot of tough, angry exterior. It was nice to be past that with him, to see his soft underbelly, to realize that Shran could get just as excited about weddings as he did the prospect of violence.
And what about the commitment that Shran had already demonstrated to him? The willingness to sacrifice? Archer wasn't the only marriage material here.
"Makes sense," Archer said, threading his fingers through Shran's hair and kneading softly. "I showed up at your door in a wedding dress, what else are you supposed to think?"
"Yes," Shran agreed, leaning into the touch. He didn't look reassured, but it was an improvement.
"And after all, I am supposed to get a honeymoon after a wedding," Archer went on, tugging on Shran's arm to encourage him to stand up. Shran went, and accepted Archer's arms around him, but seemed reluctant to touch the dress again.
"What is 'honeymoon'?"
"On Earth, it's a traditional vacation you go on after getting married. The two of you go somewhere special, and... heh, well, usually the implication is you have a lot of sex."
Shran's antennae twitched toward Archer's face, studying his blush.
"I wish I had somewhere special to take you, then," he said.
Archer took Shran's chin in hand and made him make eye contact before delivering the coup de grace.
"Anywhere I'm with you is special.... darling."
Archer did insist on taking the dress off for the second round. He was getting a little too warm for it, anyway.
