The BLTS Archive - Late Night, Lonely Heart
by Lizzie

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DISCLAIMER: Paramount = all mighty. Author = unworthy. (Just in case
we had some misunderstandings.) And Tom and Harry = delicious.

Note on title: I've had this phrase rattling around in my head for a
week now. I wish I knew where it was coming from. It's not a song
lyric; could it be a quote from a play? That's how it strikes me. If
anyone has any info, I'd appreciate it.

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"Tom?"

Tom snuffled and rolled over in bed.

"Tom, are you awake?"

Tom pulled his blanket over his head.

"Okay, you are awake."

"I don't want to be," Tom muttered from under his blanket. He tried to
close his eyes and ignore the warm--but noisy--body snuggled in next
to him, but said noisy bedmate wouldn't let him. Tom sighed and pulled
the blanket back down. "What is it?"

"I couldn't sleep."

"Aw, Harry, we cuddled! Doesn't that usually do the trick?"

"Come on, Tom, cuddling after sex isn't foolproof. I just can't
sleep."

"Do you want a snack? Go ahead, you can charge it to my account."

"I'd rather we just . . . talked."

"Oh. Do I have to talk or can I just nod occasionally?"

Harry looked up at Tom, his dark eyes blinking piteously. He didn't
say anything.

"Don't look at me like that. God, you make me feel like I've been
drowning puppies or something."

Harry's lower lip joined the fun, trembling pathetically.

"Aw, Harry! You know I can't resist that."

Harry grinned. "So you're ready to talk?"

"Sure. Let's discuss how shamelessly you manipulate me."

Harry planted a kiss on Tom's bare shoulder. "I love you."

"There you go again."

"Hmm?"

"I'd promise you the world on a platter just to hear you say those
words to me." Turning on his side to face Harry, he asked quietly,
"You know that, don't you?"

Harry's hand whispered over the skin of Tom's back as he pulled Tom
closer. "I know. But I'll never tire of hearing it."

Tom smiled into the softness of Harry's hair. "So I don't need to
worry about competition from any of the silver-tongued devils flocking
about you, charming you with their endless compliments and witty
repartee?"

"The only silver-tongued devil I need to worry about is you,
sweetheart."

Tom chuckled. "And only an hour ago you were swearing my tongue ought
to be bronzed."

Harry grinned, remembering what that tongue had done to warrant such a
compliment. "And I'm not going to change my mind anytime soon."

"So what is this all about?"

"What do you mean?"

"What did you want to talk about?"

"Well, nothing, really. I was just thinking about our life here, and
about the Alpha quadrant and about whether I'll ever get promoted . .
. you know. Stuff."

"Why now, out of the blue?"

"I used to get this way a lot just after we got stranded here. I'd sit
up nights wondering what everyone back home was doing, and if they
missed me." He smiled at Tom and hugged him close. "And then you and I
. . . happened, and I didn't need to worry about my home there because
I had one here."

"We . . . happened?" Tom smiled back at Harry, ruffling his hair. "So
why now?"

"I don't really know. I was going over my old log entries today, and I
was listening to me from the Academy, and it just struck me how much
had happened that I could never have foreseen. I wonder, had that
Harry Kim known what he was getting into, if he would have accepted
his placement on Voyager. There's nowhere I'd rather be right now, but
getting to this point took so much effort and pain--I wonder if I
would have realized that it was worth it, if I was mature enough to
realize how valuable these four years have been."

"Well, I'd say yes, but I'm biased."

"Oh, you didn't know me then, Tom. I went where I was told, did what
was easiest, followed the path of least resistance. Like . . . um,
well, going through the Academy was less trouble than explaining to my
family that I didn't want to, so I went to the Academy."

"Did you really not want to join Starfleet?"

"Well, I used to think I'd enjoy a career in music. My parents let me
try, but they made certain I knew that it would always be a hobby and
never a profession. And it was too much trouble to argue, and it
wasn't that I didn't like science, so I gave in."

"And so you're here."

"No, I never regretted it! I've matured so much since I've been here.
I suppose it would have happened eventually, but I don't think it
would have happened so quickly if it hadn't been for the need to
utilise every available person onboard Voyager. I mean, if I'd been
assigned to a different ship, do you really think I'd have been given
Ops so quickly and so unconditionally?"

"I guess not."

"So that's what I'm trying to say. I can't believe how everything's
turned out for me; losing my family and friends is almost worth the
experience I've gained."

Tom grinned wryly. "Let me add a 'Me too' to that!"

"We both needed this for the same reason, to discover who we really
are."

Tom shrugged, not quite willing to include himself in Harry's
statement. "I suppose so. It really sounds like you grew up on board
Voyager."

"I did. And you know, it started with that first decision of mine to
ignore the little voice that told me that befriending you would only
get me in trouble."

"But it did get you in trouble!"

"Yeah, but if I hadn't, I'd probably be alone in my quarters right now
wishing I was home and hating my life here."

"I'm glad you're here." Tom brushed a kiss over Harry's forehead.

"So am I." Harry smiled softly, still feeling the feather-light touch
even after Tom's lips had moved down to nibble Harry's ear.

"You up for a second round?"

"Can you just hold me for a while? I don't think I can get it up
again."

Tom laughed and pulled Harry even closer, nuzzling the
heartbeat-hollow of his throat. "No problem."

"Not a problem that you don't have," Harry teased, feeling Tom's
erection against his hip. His hand followed the curve of Tom's
shoulder down to his angular hip, gently stroking back and forth, his
strokes growing longer until the tips of his fingers were brushing
over the straining tip of Tom's arousal.

"Harry?" The word was a whisper, a faint, pleading huff of warm breath
over Harry's upturned face.

"Trust me."

And Tom did, oh he did.

"Can you feel that? That's me, Tom, that's me. I'm here, and it's just
you and me, and we may be seventy years from home but it doesn't
matter because we're here and I love you . . ."

Harry's voice trailed off as his hand sped up. He was too tired to
play with this, extend the moment, savor the feel of Tom, warm, heavy,
and slick as he moved through Harry's loosely curled fist, and he was
sure Tom was too.

"Tom, open your eyes."

Tom responded with a wordless gasp, his back arching and his eyes
opening simultaneously. He wasn't there yet, but he was close, and
both of them knew it. Harry's hand tightened, sheathing Tom in Harry's
fist, damp with sweat and pre-cum and smooth along the fiery length of
Tom's erection.

Any moment now; Tom's eyes had dilated so much that their blue was
almost obliterated, and he was panting furiously, the muscles of his
legs twitching desperately in time to Harry's frantic pumping, and he
was so close, so close and just then Harry leaned over to kiss him. "I
love you, Tom."

And Tom came. He was too tired for the mad acrobatics that usually
seemed to accompany orgasm; instead his entire body stiffened, his
head thrown back, his breath exploding in sharp gasps as Harry did his
best to wring every last drop from his cock.

His voice hoarse in his throat, Tom sighed, "I love you too, Harry."
He snuggled closer, feeling the gentle pressure against his stomach of
the washcloth they had used and forgotten to put away earlier in the
evening. He waited for Harry to drop the cloth back on the nightstand
before adding, "We really ought to do this more often."

Harry looked at Tom in surprise. "The late night talking?"

Tom paused, drawing out the moment before suddenly grinning. "The
sex."

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The End