by Anonymous
---

All characters in this story are copyrighted by Paramount Studios. What is done to them is copyright 1996. You may not reprint, archive, or in any way publicly distribute or make available this story without my express permission.

This story takes place immediately after the episode "The Chute", in case you couldn't guess. If you haven't seen the episode, this will probably make no sense.

---

It had been a hurried dinner. They'd intended to take their time, to eat with gusto all the foods whose mere idea had kept them alive and focused in that filthy prison, but Harry couldn't bear to face Tom. Not after what he'd almost done to him. Not after. . .

"Tom, my stomach hurts. Can I take a rain-check on dessert?"

"Yeah, sure. We probably shouldn't have eaten so much after starving for days anyway. What do you want to do now? Sandrine's?"

"I think I want to be alone. I need to think."

"Harry. . . "

"Please?"

Tom nodded, then walked silently out the door.

With a weary sigh, Harry wandered over to his bed and lay down. It felt so good to sink into its softness after days spent sleeping on a hard metal floor.

"He's mine!"

Rolling onto his side, he let the memories sweep over him.


"He's mine!"

Harry didn't like the sound of that, especially right after Tom had slugged him so hard, but he knew his best chance of surviving right now was to trust in his friend. Tom roughly hauled him off the ground and led him away. "It's all right, Harry," he murmured. "Play along."

"Where are we going?"

"I've got a little shelter staked out."

"I'm thirsty."

"I think I can scrounge up some water."

The shelter--well, it provided some privacy, at least, but not much. "Tom? What did it mean when you said, 'he's mine'?"

Tom turned back to look at him with a grim expression. "Harry. . . "

"No. You can't. . . "

"We have to at least put on a show. Otherwise someone else will make you his. That's how prison works. Trust me, I should know."

Harry swallowed hard and cast a panicked look at his friend who simply stared back at him with sad blue eyes. "Tom, please, you can't. . . "

"If I don't, one of them will."

Harry turned his gaze outward through the mesh curtain of their shelter and saw the wolves circling--maintaining a respectful distance, but watching and waiting for any sign that the prey wasn't completely subdued. If he didn't let Tom do it, one of them would, and he didn't like the thought of that. He turned back to Tom and nodded reluctantly.

Tom moved closer and murmured, "Ever done this before?"

"No."

"Damn. Your first time shouldn't be like this," he said in a tight voice.

"What should I do?"

"The floor's hard, so I'd suggest hands and knees. But we have to make it look like you're not too happy about this, all right?"

"Okay."

Tom grabbed Harry and roughly forced him forward into position, whispering, "I'm sorry," as the wolves started to howl in approval. His hand reached around and undid Harry's pants, yanking them down just enough for entry. "I'm going to finger you first," he whispered. "It'll hurt less that way, but I can't afford to take too much time or they'll. . . "

"I understand. . . ungh!" Harry's insides recoiled as he felt the invader enter him from behind. Just a finger, but it was more than he'd ever wanted there.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," Tom hissed as he added another finger, then another. "I'm going to have to do it now. If I wait much longer, they'll. . . "

"Just do it," Harry grunted through gritted teeth, acutely aware of the rapt attention of the predators just outside their little space. "Just get it over with."

Tom took a deep breath, looked down at his erection with disgust, and then slowly started easing it into his friend's virgin opening. Harry cried out in indignance, and Tom could feel the tears welling in his eyes. "Shit, Harry. . . "

"Just get it over with," Harry repeated, feeling all the blood rushing to his burning face, ashamed at the spectacle he was providing for the other prisoners who were hooting and screaming in appreciation.

Tom started moving faster, biting back the bile rising in his throat. No food for two days but he was going to throw up if this took much longer. "I'm gonna fake it, Harry," he whispered. "I can't do this much longer. Ready?" Harry nodded. "Okay, here goes." With a roar, Tom surged forward in simulation of orgasm, and the crowd went wild. Tom collapsed onto Harry, whispering, "I'm so sorry. I never wanted it to be like this," then pulled back and pulled out before Harry could respond.

Harry hastily pulled up his pants, trying as best he could to ignore the searing pain in his ass and the feeling of shame that was overwhelming him. Looking out at the triumphant, predatory eyes of his fellow inmates, he suddenly realized just what Tom had saved him from. None of them would have asked if it was his first time. None of them would have cared about his pain. If Tom hadn't fought for him and then taken him back here for this, Harry would probably be bloody and raw. Turning to his friend, he said, "Tom. . . "

Tom hastily wiped the tears from his face and said, "Lemme get you that water." As he bolted from the shelter, Harry realized that they weren't going to talk about this again.


"I never wanted it to be like this."

"Neither did I, Tom," Harry said to his empty room as the tears ran down his face.

---

"Tom?"

"Harry! Changed your mind about Sandrine's?"

Heading over to join his friend at the deserted bar, Harry replied, "Actually, I wanted to talk."

"Nothing to talk about, Harry. What's done is done."

"Tom, don't run away from this."

"From what?"

Harry snorted in disgust. "Would you stop that? I hate it when you act dense and defensive when you don't want to talk about something. I need to talk to you about that first night."

"Oh. . . that. Harry, it's best just to drop it."

"Tom, please? You're my friend, and something happened and I need to talk about it. Did. . . did that happen to you when you first got there?"

"No, I didn't let it. I'd had enough. . . " He fell silent.

"You had enough in New Zealand?"

"Yeah."

"But how did you keep them from claiming you this time?"

"You just learn. I knew what to expect, and I acted like someone who knew what he was doing, so they respected me and left me alone. But you. . . damn it, Harry, you practically had 'rape me' written all over you. Look, I'm really sorry I had to do it, I really am. You didn't deserve that."

"Well. . . for what it's worth, I'm glad you did. If you hadn't, it would have been a lot worse."

Tom nodded, his expression turning inward.

Harry tentatively reached out and touched Tom's arm. In a small voice, he asked, "Was it that bad for you in New Zealand?"

Tom looked down into his beer and shrugged.

"I didn't think that happened in Federation prisons."

Tom snorted. "It happens in all prisons. You get a fresh-faced young guy and toss him in with a group of het guys who've been locked up forever, and they're going to claim his ass. The gay and bi guys never pull that shit, just the uptight het guys." He snickered. "Funny, isn't it, how prisons always seem to be filled with over-aggressive het guys?"

"Did the guy who claimed you treat you as gently as you treated me?"

"Guy? Guys is more like it. No, but I'd done it before. It wasn't my first time. Look, Harry, can we talk about something else?"

"Just. . . just one last thing." Screwing up his courage, Harry said, "What did you mean when you said 'I never wanted it to be like this'?"

Tom gulped back his beer and dismissively said, "Nothing. It was the implant talking. I'm going to sleep. See you tomorrow."

Harry watched Tom's back as he all but bolted from the holodeck and wondered if either of them would be sleeping tonight.

---

The next day was spent back at their posts, trying to lose themselves in their work. Neither did a very good job of focusing on their duties, but the captain understood and cut them some slack. Every now and then, Harry would find his gaze drifting to his friend's silhouette, and sometimes he could see that Tom's ears were bright red. Looked like Tom couldn't stop thinking about it either. Harry wished he could offer some absolution and make the pain go away, but there was something more here, something that Tom was afraid to admit.

When Tom didn't show up in the messhall for dinner, Harry knew that the burden was once again on him. If he wanted resolution, he was going to have to seek it out himself.

"Computer, location of Lieutenant Paris?"

"Lieutenant Paris is in his quarters."

Breep bop

"Come on, Tom, answer the door," Harry muttered impatiently under his breath.

Whoosh

"Harry, what brings you here?"

"Didn't see you in the messhall."

"I'm not particularly hungry."

"Can I come in?"

"I'm a little busy right now."

"Tom."

"Harry, please?" With a sigh, he shrugged. "Yeah, come in."

Harry wandered in and sat on the edge of a chair, watching as his friend stayed standing by the door. "Look, Tom, what you did was all right. You did it to protect me."

"If I'd really been a friend, I shouldn't have been able to do it at all."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean I should have had to fake all of it. Damn it, Harry, I'm sorry I had a hard-on! If I'd really been your friend, I'd have been as limp as a wet noodle."

"And if I'd really been your friend, I wouldn't have beaten you up when you were delirious! Dammit, I don't want to play that game! We can either sit around and feel like shit about the bad things or we can put them behind us and concentrate on the good things. You protected me when I first got there, then I protected you."

"Yeah. I guess so."

"Now, dammit, what did you mean when you said 'I never wanted it to be like this'? This time I want the real answer."

Tom swallowed, looked away, and said, "Shit, Harry, don't make me say it."

"I need to hear it. After all we've been through, I need to hear it."

"I can't."

"I want you to."

"And if I do?"

Harry got up and walked over to his friend, stopping only when he was close enough to feel his body heat. "Then I'll ask you why you didn't say something before."

A small ray of closely-guarded hope appeared in Tom's eyes as he asked, "And if I answer that?"

Harry reached out to gently caress Tom's jaw. "Then I'd tell you that you shouldn't have been afraid, because I'm your best friend and would never do anything to hurt you."

"And then if I did this?" Tom asked as he reached out and took Harry into his arms.

"Then I'd say that this is how I'd like my first time to be."

With a happy smile, Tom closed the distance between the two men with a kiss. One arm cinched around the younger man's waist, the other hand in Harry's silky hair, Tom thought he was going to drown in happiness. "This is how it's supposed to be," he murmured in Harry's ear before tracing its contours with his tongue.

"How long have you wanted to do this?" Harry gasped.

"Almost as long as I've known you," he purred in his ear.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

Tom turned his head to look Harry dead in the eye. "If you said no, I was afraid I'd lose you as a friend too."

Harry smiled. "You're not losing me. Even if this just ends up being a one-night thing, you're not losing me. I don't give up on friends that easily. Come on, let's take this to the bedroom."

Harry took Tom's hand to lead him to the bed, and Tom smiled as memories of Harry holding his hand in the prison washed over him. His memories from after the stabbing were so fuzzy, but he clearly remembered the feel of Harry's hand--how soft and warm and reassuring it was. And he remembered Harry curling up next to him, the warmth of his body making him feel safe enough to sleep. It was so obvious that Harry cared. Internally, he laughed at how stupid he'd been to think that Harry would bolt. "Ah, shit. I forgot to make the bed. Didn't think I'd be entertaining company."

"That's all right," Harry laughed. "We'd just mess it up anyway." He sat down, Tom sitting next to him, and asked, "So, since this is really my first time, what do we do?"

"It's just like with women, until you get your clothes off."

"Ah, so if I did this," Harry said as he pushed Tom onto his back and lay on top of him, "I'd be on the right track."

"I'd say so."

"Mmmmm. . . " Harry moaned contentedly as he leaned down to kiss his friend. They kissed deliriously, moving on instinct, until, before Harry knew it, he was completely naked and pulling Tom's boxers down with his teeth.

"Damn, Harry, you're sure you're new at this?"

"You said it was the same until the clothes came off," Harry grinned back, tossing the boxers onto the floor with the rest of the discarded clothes and laying on top of Tom again. Between kisses to Tom's bare chest, he asked, "So now what?"

"Now," Tom breathed as he reached down to fondle Harry's erection. "Now is when it gets interesting." He smiled at Harry's involuntary shudder, then asked, "Any preferences? I know I'm the supposed expert, but. . . "

"I want to do what we did before, only this time I want to do it right."

Tom cupped Harry's face in his hands and asked, "Are you sure?"

Harry answered with a deep kiss that made Tom's bones quake, then raised himself up on his hands and knees. "Like this."

Tom swallowed hard as the painful memories of what'd he'd done flooded over him. "Harry, I don't know if I can. . . I mean, I'm going to think about. . . "

"That never happened, Tom. This is my first time, remember? Please? I need it this way. I need to make this feel right."

"I understand." Tom reached for his nightstand and pulled out a bottle of lubricant. Positioning himself behind his friend, he poured the lubricant on his fingers and started gently sliding them around the perimeter of the younger man's anus. Harry gasped and pushed back, but Tom shushed him and planted a kiss on the small of his back. "Slowly."

"I don't know if I can take slowly. I'm really turned on."

"This is your first time, remember? I don't want to hurt you." He felt the muscle relax and slipped his two fingers inside.

"Ungh. . . Tom."

"Slowly."

A third finger.

"Dammit, Tom, I'm going to come!"

The fingers exited abruptly. "Think about. . . think about warp core diagnostics."

Harry shook his head. "Too phallic."

"All right. Shield harmonics?"

"Shield harmonics it is."

Generously coating his penis with lubricant, Tom took a deep breath and asked, "Ready?"

Harry nodded.

Carefully positioning himself behind his friend, Tom slowly started easing his way in. Harry stiffened and shuddered, then started chanting, "Shield harmonics shield harmonics shield harmonics," under his breath like a mantra.

"You okay?"

"I'm about to explode all over your sheets."

"That's usually a sign that I'm doing something right."

"I want. . . ungh. . . I want to wait until you're all the way in."

Tom thrust a little deeper, feeling Harry open up to him, and grunted, "I'll be lucky to last that long. Screw shield harmonics. . . "

"Don't say 'screw'!" groaned Harry.

"Sorry. . . multiplication tables, okay?"

"The eights?"

"The. . . oh god. . . the eights. You start."

"One times eight is eight."

Tom thrust deeper. "Ohhhh. . . um, eight times two is sixteen."

"Eight times three is twenty. . . ungh. . . twenty four."

"Eight times four. . . thirty two. . . oh gods Harry I'm all the way in."

"Don't move. Unh. . . "

"Keep calculating, Harry!"

"Eight times five is forty. Start moving!"

"Oh gods. . . I don't think I can move slowly. . . eighttimessixisfortyeight. . . "

"Aaaahhh. . . eight. . . times. . . I'm not going to make it. . . Gods! Times seven is. . . um. . . "

"Fifty six," Tom groaned as he reached around to pump Harry's penis.

"Oh god. . . oh god! Tom!" Harry came furiously, wringing Tom's orgasm out of him, leaving them lying limp and sweaty on the sticky sheets.

"Wow," Harry breathed as he curled up around Tom. "Thanks for an amazing first time."

Tom kissed him thoroughly, then replied, "You're very welcome. Whew. Now what?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, is this a relationship or are we fuck buddies or something else?"

Harry shrugged. "I dunno. Fuck buddies works for now."

With an amused grin, Tom said, "You know, I never thought I'd hear words like that come out of your mouth."

"What? 'Fuck buddies'?"

With a laugh, Tom said, "Yeah. Come on, let's get some sleep."

---

"Guuuuungh!" Tom woke up with a start and turned to his sleeping companion who was sitting bolt upright and hyperventilating. "Harry, are you all right?"

"It was just a dream," Harry chanted. "Only a dream."

Tom sat up and wrapped his arms gently around his friend. "You're dreaming of prison, right?"

"Uh huh."

"It was the rape."

"It wasn't rape, Tom. Don't call it rape. I let you."

"So you were dreaming about it."

Harry nodded guiltily. "I'm really sorry, Tom. I really am."

"Aw Harry, don't be," Tom said, planting a kiss on his temple. "It's all right. It's natural. I had nightmares too."

"This is different. I let you. . . "

"And I let the guys do it to me when I realized that I had no choice. It's still rape."

"It wasn't rape! It's. . . I was dreaming of all the people watching. They raped me, not you."

"Ssssshhhhh. . . you're all right now. It's all over now," Tom crooned as he gently rocked his lover in his arms.

And with that, Harry finally let himself cry.

---

End