Disclaimer: Paramount owns them, I just let them out of their stasis pods from time to time and let them do what they want.
A/N: Written for VAMB's Secret Drabble/Ficlet Exchange, my recipient (Shayenne) requested:
First Line: "I saved your life, Chakotay. Your butt is mine."
Pairing: C and P
This story can also be found on fanfiction.net
“I saved your life, Chakotay. Your butt is mine.” Tom Paris couldn’t contain his glee just thinking about of all the rations he was about to acquire. Tom had to admit it, some time ago he had started a pool on the best butt aboard Voyager; he of course had been exempt from participating. The masses (mainly the Delaney twins) had spoken and wanted holoimages of all of the rear ends to be able to judge the contestants properly and fairly. Not ironically, the only tush that was missing from his collection was that of a certain XO. The same XO who had vowed to not be a party to the pool, no matter who asked him or how good it was for morale, even their resident Talaxian had volunteered to drop his drawers for the chance of claiming the title. Tom remembered that picture with a shudder.
It was just Tom’s luck that he happened to be in the Mess Hall today as Chakotay took a bite of his leola surprise and started choking on it. Granted Chakotay probably would not have choked had Tom not slapped him on the back to say hello as he went to swallow, but fortunately, Tom quickly applied the Heimlich maneuver and loosened the leola root from Chakotay’s throat. The food flew directly onto the Captain’s plate, making an unappetizing dish even more so and clearing out the Mess Hall, leaving only Tom and Chakotay.
Chakotay, being an honorable man, did feel indebted to the man who saved his life, no matter the reason. Fair was fair and he had to give Tom what he wanted, so that’s what brought them to the moment at hand.
Chakotay undid the clasp at the top of his jumpsuit and slowly slid the zipper down. The lower the zipper went the bigger Tom’s smile grew.
“I’ll get you for this Paris!” Chakotay muttered under his breath.
“Only if you don’t win.” Tom quickly quipped back, trying to contain his laughter. It didn’t help.
Tom watched as Chakotay shrugged his shoulders out of the jacket and let it fall below his waist, dragging the pants down to his knees and Tom readied his holoimager for the money shot.
Through clenched teeth, Chakotay grunted some Klingon expletives that Tom knew all too well, slid his fingers under the waistband of his boxers, tugged them down and bent over.
“Was that so painful?” Paris teased as he made his way behind Chakotay to take the picture.
There was no reply.
Just as Tom was going to snap the picture he noticed something that looked like another tattoo.
“Property of—“ he began to read from the tattoo and quickly stopped, shutting off the holoimager and making for the door.
Oh yeah, he had just found something a lot more valuable than the rations a holoimage of the commander’s butt would bring. He’d be living in rations from here to the Alpha Quadrant with the information he now possessed.
Apparently the captain could and had dealt with Chakotay.