The BLTS Archive - The BLTS Archive - It's Just Sex! 2 What About Harry? by Emily Gifford (menippee@ix.netcom.com) --- This is a follow up to "It's Just Sex," taking place aboard Voyager just after Paris and Torres have paired off. I don't necessarily think either story is what the Star Trek Overlords should have done with the characters, nor is it my intention to subvert their mighty power and copyright. Rather, I offer this in the fanfic writer's humble spirit of "What if..." --- The officer's mess was deserted. Everyone was off, either on Holodeck Two for the Second Annual Lunar New Year Festival and Volleyball Tournament, or enjoying Kes' and Neelix's House o'Plants and Canapés Open House. Since such diversions were rare, most crew members took advantage of them whenever they could. For once, Harry Kim was not a celebrant. Harry Kim was lonely, damned pissed off, and doing his best to get drunk on synthohol, a physiological impossibility. He slugged back some of his fake rum... Angel Rum, they called it, and tried to forget that last scene with Tom. "Come on, Harry," Tom had pleaded before Harry had even had a chance to speak. "When we started this, we knew it was a go-nowhere proposition..." Harry had swallowed bilious anger. "I know. I've known that the minute you had a chance with her, you'd go off, just as you'd accepted that if my secret love ever looked twice at me, I'd be the one to leave you high and dry. It's just..." "I knew you'd understand, pal!" Tom had slapped him convivially on the back, and dashed off to get his bitten cheek fixed up. Truly, Harry didn't begrudge Tom this opportunity, but his pride was a bit nicked. He'd always thought *he'd* be the first one to find true love... The doors swooshed open. Harry looked up. On observing who was about to join him in this room of deserted tables, he winced. _Why this? Why now?_ he asked gods he wasn't sure he believed in. _I can't deal with this right now!_ Aloud, he said, "I suppose you've come to pester me until I come down and join you on the Bridge Volleyball Team." "Not necessarily, though we could certainly use your power spike. Even without Kes, the Sickbay team is formidable. I think the doctor programmed an extra thirty percent power into his serving arm." "Well, I don't feel like celebrating," Harry said morosely, pouring out another shot of Angel Rum. "I know what you're going through." _Bullshit_, thought Harry. "The holidays are especially hard on everyone." Harry swigged yet again. "I'm not missing Gramma Yu's bean cake, if that's what you're getting at. She's a great lady, but her bean cake is notorious throughout Marysville as being something that you could fell a wild animal with, and have it return to you on the wind." A chuckle. "Boomerang Bean Cake. I think I saw that on a menu once, but it was some sort of fermented tofu desert. But it isn't just the holidays, is it?" Harry sighed. Best to get *this* over with. "I guess the whole ship is wondering what happens to the odd man out, now that Paris and Torres are finally..." He let his voice trail off. "I'd be remiss if I didn't tell you to get out and enjoy life." "Captain's orders?" "She didn't say so specifically, but you know how she is about her crew." "A regular Mother Hen. Don't tell her I said that!" "What price is my silence worth to you?" _Don't_, Harry pleaded. _I'm weak and needy, and I can't take this flirting anymore._ But Harry said nothing. "Well, I guess I've done my duty to cheer up a gloomy colleague..." A chair pushed back. "Wait," said Harry in spite of himself. "Yes?" "I wish this were real booze," Harry said. "Then I could blame what I'm about to do on it..." Silence stretched. "Yes?" The voice was gentle, invitation in the single word. "Sir..." Harry began. "No, that's not right. God, this is so awkward. I don't know what to say..." "I do. On your knees, ensign." "What?" "You heard me. Don't make me repeat myself." Harry got up, sank to his knees. A zip, a rustling, a command. "Suck it. You know what to do." Harry closed his eyes. This wasn't, couldn't be, happening. Yet gentle but firm hands were guiding his head, his mouth was opening, and suddenly his mouth was around the head of gorgeous cock. "That's right," he was encouraged, with the same gentle firmness. "Take some more." Harry was quick to oblige, the salty, earthy taste driving him on, his mouth greedy for the feel of silky, powerful flesh. His tongue rolled the man's cock as he pulled him deeper, deeper until he had at all. His mouth was possessed, his body afire. He welcomed the increasing, commanding pressure of strong hands on his head. He felt the shudders of the pleasure he was giving the man, his low moans of approval and delight spurring him on as much as the taste and the weight of the cock in his mouth. Harry's hands reached around his partner's hips, grabbing his smooth ass. His mouth was too full of cock to allow him speech, but he used his hands to communicate the urgency he felt. He pushed his mouth still further down, until his nose hit fragrant pubic hair. He pulled and pushed at the man's hips, encouraging deep thrusts, his own cock hard and throbbing. Chakotay had never felt anything like it. He'd had generous lovers who'd done this for him before, but it had always been given as a treasured gift. This was... the man before him was taking him with his mouth, getting as much pleasure from the act as Chakotay. Harry's hair was like satin, like water beneath his hands, and his mouth was hot and eager for the taste of him. This was no favor, no quid pro quo. Harry wanted to devour him at least as much as he wanted to be devoured. The strength of Harry's desire was communicated in every move he made, each lick of the tongue, each urgently gentle nip of the teeth. The knowledge of this hunger was, in its way, as arousing as the feel of hands and mouth and hair, and was, ultimately, what gave Chakotay his orgasm, powerful contractions that started in his cock, and reverberated throughout mind and body, touching spirit and sky. His eyes closed and his head fell back as Harry swallowed all he had to give, and delicately lapped him clean. After such an experience, Chakotay wanted nothing more than sleep. He recognized the selfishness of his desire, and that it was also a desire to turn away and hide from what had just happened. _Why only take, when you can also give?_ Was it he who asked this of himself, or a spirit guiding him to the right, true path? It didn't really matter where the thought had come from; this was the only way. Chakotay sank to his knees beside Harry. The younger man was crying, partly in reflex, partly in the continued torment of desire unfulfilled, and partly at the release of finally being with the man he loved. Chakotay knew that Harry must also be afraid, for neither of them had ever given each other the slightest hint of what they both felt. "Shh," Chakotay said, taking Harry in his arms. "It's all right. It's more than all right. It's perfect. And now let me make it perfect for you." Gently, he eased Harry to the floor. He cradled Harry's head in his hands, kissing him passionately, using his tongue to pleasure Harry's as Harry's had used his to pleasure Chakotay. They broke for a moment, and Chakotay used his mouth to map and explore the line of Harry's jaw. Harry was mewling with desire, his hips bucking involuntarily. "You've given me so much," Chakotay said, lifting his palm to Harry's quivering mouth. "Give just a little more." Harry's eyes were glazed with need as they looked into Chakotay's, not understanding. Chakotay began running his palm over Harry's lips, and understanding lit Harry's brown eyes. Slowly at first, and then with eagerness, Harry used his tongue to moisten Chakotay's hand, maintaining deep and difficult eye contact as he did. When he had completed the task to Chakotay's satisfaction, Chakotay pulled his hand away. Harry raised his head to capture it again, but Chakotay held him off. "That's enough, ensign," he said with quiet command. Chakotay brought his hand down to Harry's aching cock, encircling him. "Now," Chakotay commanded, invited, and Harry began to buck against him in earnest. Both their bodies were thrashing with the intensity of Harry's thrusts, but Chakotay was not about to break contact. As Harry came with a shout of triumph, Chakotay looked deep into his eyes, and covered Harry's mouth with his own. Afterward, there was no need for words, for they both thought the same thing as they drifted to sleep. _Mine_ was their single thought. _Now he's finally mine._ --- The End