by Anonymous
---

Disclaimers: Harry Kim, Tom Paris, B'Elanna Torres, Katherine Janeway, Kes, Chakotay,Neelix and everyone else you recognise don't belong to me. (Bet you'd never have guessed that, huh?) They belong to TPTB at Paramount. I'm just borrowing them for a while and I don't mean them any harm. . . well, perhaps just a little. What's P/K slash without a little 'teen angst' after all? (chuckle)

Rating: I'm not too sure about the US rating system, so to be safe I'll class this as NC-17 for some m/m sex.

Dedication:This one's for B2, editor extraordinaire and friend. And for R'rain, who encouraged me even when my first effort at slash was so bad it deserved to be incinerated. Enough of my rambles! On with the story. . .

---

Who would ever have guessed that the stoic and proper Ensign Kim was incredibly ticklish?

Though they'd been friends for almost three years now it was something Tom had never discovered until that late night in the Holodeck. He and Harry had been running one of his latest programs, a small log cabin nestled high on a snowy mountain, a mild scenario compared to his other more. . . adventurous endeavours.

The program would have surprised anyone else on Voyager but Harry had just smiled with genuine appreciation and proceeded to compliment him on every wonderful thing in sight.

A good critic Harry was not, but who needed a critic when you had friends like this?

The snowball fight had started sometime during the frosty walk back to the cabin when the silence was becoming too oppressive. Silence gave Tom's thoughts too much opportunity to wander places they shouldn't, not when the object of those thoughts was walking close enough to his side that their arms would brush as they moved.

The first snowball landed with a wonderful thud on Harry's back, then another quickly followed. Retaliation was swift and within minutes they'd deteriorated into shoving handfuls of cold and wet slush down each others' off duty clothes.

This was when Tom had made the wonderful discovery. A discovery he'd regret only an hour later, though at the time he had no idea of the enormous repercussions of the simple act.

"Tom stop!!"

Harry had struggled ineffectively against the strong arms imprisoning him as he fought to evade the hands and fingers that seemed to magically know just exactly where he was most sensitive. He could barely speak he was laughing so hard. "Stop!" he couldn't breathe, gasping in air in between bursts of laughter. Tom kept up his assault.

"Please?" Harry was begging now, but Tom didn't listen to the breathless plea. Instead he ran his fingers along Harry's sides and was rewarded with a choked gasp and another burst of laughter.

Harry pulled against the arms that held him and squirmed, desperately trying to escape the torturous sensation. Tom pulled him back, attempting to keep hold of his prisoner, and suddenly Harry's back was pressed flush against his chest, electric contact everywhere.

He gasped.

Tom had never been this physically close to Harry in his life. It was a feeling more heady than any alcohol could produce. Tom could almost feel his blood heat up and thicken and he was positive his temperature rose noticeably. He knew his skin was flushed, his breathing was suddenly more erratic than Harry's own. He pressed his face into that wonderful curve between Harry's neck and shoulder, that little place which he discovered smelt wonderful, like nothing else in the galaxy. His arms tightened, his fingers no longer seeking secret places that reacted so well to tickling, but almost caressing instead. Harry's flesh was firm and so warm beneath the fabric of his off duty shirt and Tom knew the skin was smooth. He wanted to feel it under his fingers without the barrier of clothing. His eyes closed, lost in dangerous sensation.

To be so close was heaven but he was tempting fate. It wouldn't last, this heady rush of feeling and arousal so strong it was almost unbearable. It would end all too soon but right now he couldn't think beyond this moment.

Perfect, this sharp near-pain of desire spreading through his limbs and centring in his groin. How many nights had he imagined this? Lain awake and tortured himself with memories of missed chances, of might- have-been's and never-will-be's?

The moment had to end. This exquisite perfection of feeling wasn't for him, it was for someone else; Libby or B'Elanna, but not him. He held on tighter, wishing he believed in a god he could pray to that his life could end right here and now so this moment could last an eternity.

Harry took in a deep breath, trying to clear his head from the oxygen rush Tom had him in a death grip, but was no longer attempting to tickle him. He tested the human prison. Tom's defences were down and it took little effort to break free, spinning away to face his friend.

Tom stumbled when Harry pulled away, momentarily disorientated by the loss. His skin was on fire where they had been pressed together and the icy air of the holoprogram chilled him to the bone.

He looked at Harry, his eyes burning, the mask of a casual friend a distant memory. Sensation upon sensation upon sensation made it impossible for him to hide what he was feeling. It was all too intense; lust, passion, desire. . . love. All there in his eyes where the one person from whom Tom was desperate to keep them hidden could see them all too clearly.

It was the moment of truth.

And with nothing more than a look, things changed between them forever.

---

Sandrine's was not a good place for thinking but Harry thought there anyway. He tried to convince himself that nothing had happened a week ago on the Holodeck; it had been a figment of his imagination, a trick of the light. He couldn't have seen what he thought he'd seen. After almost three years of friendship it was ridiculous to believe Tom thought about him that way, they were best friends! Yet the thoughts persisted. The way Tom had looked at him. . . He frowned into his glass of holographic wine.

"If you keep scowling like that, you'll scare me away as well, Starfleet."

Harry started, looking around to realise that there was no one left at their table but himself and B'Elanna. Everyone seemed to have gravitated to the pool table where the Captain was busy crushing Tom's ego yet again.

Of their own accord his eyes strayed to Tom standing at the pool table, laughing as he draped his arm casually around Megan Delaney, the other hand trying to hold a glass of wine and a pool stick all at once. With a wicked grin, Megan stole his glass of wine, sipping it herself before offering it back to Tom. Whatever it was she whispered in his ear made him turn a very interesting shade of pink.

Harry concentrated on keeping his face from scowling again. Why should the sight of Megan and Tom suddenly stir up so much unwanted emotion in him? They'd been an on-off item for years now, even managing to persuade Jenny and Harry to accompany them on several remakes of the 'double date from hell'. Before today it had never mattered to him what Tom was up to when they weren't together, but now things were different, and he didn't know if it was himself, or Tom that had changed.

Was that it? Something had changed between them and it was totally unwanted and even more unexpected.

Or was the problem that perhaps it wasn't quite so unwanted or unexpected as he'd believed?

If there had been a time in his life when he'd ever been more confused Harry couldn't remember it. Tom was his anchor to life in the Delta Quadrant. Without his best friend he would have buried himself in work and memories of Libby and his family, all at home and so very far away. He needed Tom to drag him away from his reports with wild ideas and bad jokes and crazy schemes that always got them into trouble. Now. . . now Tom wasn't the same person Harry thought he was. The casual friend was frozen in time in the Holodeck and replaced by some stranger with desire in his eyes.

Harry didn't realise the scowl had reappeared until B'Elanna leaned over to playfully smooth the frown lines away. "What's up with you this week Harry? You've been scowling every chance you get!" She leaned her chair back precariously, balancing on two chair legs by hooking her feet under the table .

"Nothing!" he answered far too quickly and convincingly. B'Elanna grinned at him again, nodding like a sage and crossing her arms.

"No, of course not," she agreed, sounding as convincing as he did.

Harry was a little exasperated. He didn't want to talk about whatever it was he was feeling. Especially not to B'Elanna, who's own relationship with Tom was indefinable at best. "You'll fall off the chair if you keep doing that," he told her in a deliberate change of subject.

"The Holodeck safeties will catch me." She noted the neat side-step of her question and went along with it, for now at least. Harry could keep a secret better than a Romulan spy, she wouldn't be able to pry anything out of him if he didn't want to talk.

She watched as he turned his attention back to Tom. Something was wrong with those two, but neither was saying anything, both desperately pretending nothing had changed.

Tom was taking his shot, handing his glass of wine to Megan and leaning over the table with the cue. Harry was suddenly glad for B'Elanna's undemanding company. Aside from Tom, she was his best friend here on Voyager.

'Let's face it Harry, that basically amounts to your best friends anywhere. ' He sighed, feeling sentimental. What would he do without her?'

'Something other than work,' he immediately answered his own question as a small padd seemed to materialise into her hands from thin air.

"I was just thinking about those warp field simulations we ran last month . . ." she began, letting the chair swing down with a crash and leaning across the table so he could look at the padd with her. Harry gratefully let his brain take over to think about something other than Tom for the first time in hours.

"Why don't you just go over there and talk to the guy!" Megan Delaney finally muttered in exasperation. Tom turned to her, moving out of the way so the Captain could take her shot. "What do you mean?" He decided to play ignorant. Putting his most innocent smile on his face he wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

It wasn't as easy to fool Megan as most people on Voyager thought. She rolled her eyes at him. "Harry." She spoke as if explaining to a small child. "You've been staring at him all night. Why don't you just go make up if you had an argument?"

"We didn't have an argument," he protested. At least that was the truth, since they hadn't really spoken since that night in the Holodeck. He evaded her eyes, trying to shake off the emotions that welled up each time he thought of it.

Tom was relieved when Megan decided to drop the subject. She rescued the glass of wine from where it balanced precariously in his hand with his pool cue, and stole a sip before returning it. Then she rose up on her toes to lean in close, and whispered in his ear; "If I didn't know better, I'd think you were hot for his body!" Tom froze for a split second, before regaining use of his speech. He felt flushed all of a sudden and silently cursed his fair haired ability to blush. He cast desperately around for something to say to the giggling Delaney, when the Captain unknowingly saved his hide.

"It's your shot, Lieutenant." He sent her a relieved smile, untangling himself from Megan and turning his wine over to her while he tried to bring his wavering attention back to the game in front of him.

When Tom finally gave up losing for the night, he rejoined the table. Harry was there, along with B'Elanna, Megan, Delman and a few of the other regulars. He came to stand behind Harry's chair, leaning over the back but avoiding putting his hand on his shoulder as normally might have done. He kept his voice low as he spoke.

"Want to join me in raiding Neelix's kitchen before you turn in? He'll be out of there by this time of night, we can find something edible." He tried to sound casual, but he knew the question, normally something he wouldn't have thought twice about, was going to sound like a plea to spend some time alone.

Harry turned to face Tom, twisting his body so it seemed to anyone looking that he'd just swivelled to face his friend, but Tom knew he'd moved back away from him, putting that little extra distance between them.

"Um, I'm not really hungry now, Tom," Harry said, and he couldn't quite meet his eyes when he said it. "B'Elanna wants me to go over some stuff with her, we'll grab something later. I mean, if we're hungry, that is - not that I'm hungry now. . ."

Tom could almost have laughed at the way Harry was stumbling all over himself in his nervousness, but as it was he could barely manage a smile. His heart seemed to freeze a little more each time Harry drew away from him.

He straightened and cast a "Sure Harry" in his direction, before saying his goodnights. Megan hopped up from the table, hooking her arm through his.

"I'm off to bed now too. You can walk me to my quarters." The innuendo in her voice set off a wave of laughter through the table, following them as they walked out. As soon as the Holodeck doors closed, Megan began her true seduction. Though with Megan, seduction wasn't really the correct word to use; she was so straightforward in everything she did, including sex.

Especially sex,' he corrected himself as she reached for one of his more sensitive places.

Amid kisses, Tom played with the idea of taking Megan up on her unspoken offer, but by the time they'd reached the turbolift he'd decided he wasn't going to join her tonight, despite his body's ideas otherwise.

Somehow, sex with Megan would feel like he was cheating on Harry.

Tom was a little disgusted by that particular train of thought, but that didn't change his feelings. So he walked Megan to her quarters, surprised her for probably the first time in his life, and left with no more than a kiss on her cheek.

---

Tom kept up a steady stream of chatter the next day at the Conn. He found it was easier to talk about anything at all rather than stew in silence, when his thoughts would invariably drift to the Ops officer sitting directly behind him. Eventually even he ran out of things to say and he sat and brooded, trying to find something other than Harry to occupy his thoughts during the long stretches of empty space. It didn't work. All he could think about was Harry. Harry, Harry, Harry. If it wasn't such a wonderful subject he could go mad. Last night's decision had disturbed him more than he cared to admit. Loving Harry was not new, but always before he'd felt nothing of taking Megan or anyone else up on an offer when they suggested he 'walk them to their quarters'.

Why did he suddenly feel like he was Harry's other half, and that mean exclusive rights to his body as well as his heart? He frowned at the tiny row of numbers blinking on his view screen.

'Way to go Paris,' he thought, 'you seem to have discovered the concept of total commitment just when Harry uses every excuse in the book to avoid being in the same room alone with you.'

He missed his best friend. It had only been one week, yet he craved a single hour stretched out on Harry's couch while the clarinet swept him up with it's haunting melody or cheerful tune. A week ago he'd have spent this time dreaming of bronzed skin and full lips that begged to be kissed. Now all he wanted was what they'd had before; the relaxed camaraderie of shared confidences and casual touches that burnt. Had he lost Harry forever in that one wild moment? The fates wouldn't be that cruel to him. . . would they?

The hand on his shoulder brought him back to the present.

"Lieutenant?" Janeway asked, sounding a little concerned.

"Yes, Captain?"

"I asked you to change course to the class M planet Neelix gave us coordinates for." She tapped her finger on the flashing row of numbers. Tom looked at it in minor surprise. It hadn't been there a minute ago.

He inputted the coordinates, sending Voyager around in an easy curve, and the Captain returned to her chair, leaning over the armrest so she could confer quietly with Chakotay. Tom followed her with his eyes, leaning back in his chair and scanning the bridge ever so casually. He looked at Harry.

Harry was watching him.

Tom spun back around and glued his eyes to the console. "Did anyone hear the joke about the Bajoran, the Ferengi and the Bothan?" he asked no one in particular.

---

"We need to talk."

Harry looked up from the plate of grey mush in front of him to face his best friend. He gestured to the empty seat across from his own, a little sad that Tom thought he had to wait for an invitation these days.

For a brief moment Harry considered pleading ignorance to the reasons behind Tom's suggestion for a nice long torturous chat. Their friendship was going through a difficult enough time without adding anything else to it. Then he berated himself for his cowardice, and sighed.

"Sure Tom, but not over breakfast, please?"

Relieved, Tom finally relaxed. He'd been awake for hours last night, deciding he had to have it out with Harry before they lost what little was left of their friendship. A single week without Harry by his side and he was caving already. He'd sure gotten soft since he left New Zealand.

Tom was not a 'talking' kind of person. Feelings were something you denied having and hid under a mask of congeniality, he'd learnt that lesson early on in life. It was Harry's influence in these past years that encouraged him to take the first step and demand they discuss what was going on. Oh, he wasn't so far gone that he planned on admitting how he really felt. He'd already memorised a careful speech about how it was a heat of the moment type of thing, nothing had changed, couldn't they go back to the way they were?

It wasn't the truth, but if it calmed Harry then it was necessary.

Once he'd made the decision, he was hard pressed to wait. He wanted to get it over with now. He'd had to stop himself from heading down the corridor to Harry's quarters a half dozen times the night before, and now the day stretched before him, seemingly endless.

"When?" he asked, hoping it would be soon.

Harry stirred the grey mush with his fork and reluctantly offered, "Dinner at my place?" "Sounds good." There didn't seem to be much more they could say. Still, it was nice to be together, even if the silence between them was uncomfortable for the first time in memory. So they sat together, not speaking, not eating, just passing the time until their shift began.


Stuck down in Engineering with a workaholic half Klingon, Harry felt the day would never end. The minutes seemed to crawl by and he was hard pressed to keep his mind on what he was supposed to be doing.

If he didn't know better, he would have sworn it was anticipation he was feeling.

Just a week ago he'd been so happy to simply be Tom's friend, thinking that was all he would ever have and dismissing any stray thoughts that suggested otherwise. There was Libby back home to think about after all.

Was he crazy to have thought he could remain faithful to a girl he hadn't seen in years and who he had no assurance he'd ever see again? Loving her had become more of a habit than anything more and he knew he was simply holding off the inevitable. Letting go had always been difficult. He hated goodbyes with a vengeance.

And now he had a reason to say goodbye to the past and the reason was the look in his best friend's eyes.

Harry had known for a long time that Tom was important to him, perhaps the most important person in his life. Swept away from all his old friends and family he'd relied on Tom for company, support and friendship.

At least that's what he used to think.

Things were becoming so much clearer now. Sure, Tom was his first friend, but he was also the most important. He'd never wanted to think about why he had attached himself to Tom. It could have just as easily been B'Elanna, they'd struck up such an instant rapport during that forced stay on the Ocampan home world. He'd just accepted the fact that Tom was a necessary part of his life, not wanting to delve too deeply into the reasons when he still felt loyalty to Libby.

Now he was no longer afraid and he was beginning to realise that the love had been there for a very long time. It was as if Tom had managed to look right into his heart and see what was really there. It felt like the sun bursting from behind the clouds, the emotions were so bright and overwhelming. He felt like singing. He felt like playing his clarinet and releasing the huge charge of emotion into exuberant melody. He felt like dragging Tom into bed and keeping him there for a week.

B'Elanna was looking at him strangely, wondering why he was grinning at his data padd when there was still at least another hour's work there. Feeling like everything was right with the world, Harry turned his smile on her. She simply shook her head at him, but she was smiling in return.

---

It was torture to remain down in Engineering for that final hour, but somehow he managed to keep his mind (mostly) on the job. When the chronometer ticked over to announce the end of his shift he practically flew to the turbolift, only to find Tom already pacing in his quarters when he arrived.

Harry bolted into the room, and came to a dead stop in front of Tom. While Harry was still in his uniform, covered with dust and grime from crawling through conduits and Jeffrey's tubes with B'Elanna all day, Tom was looking clean and beautiful in his off duty casual shirt and pants.

Beautiful? Where had that thought come from? Sure, Tom was good looking, but. . . beautiful? It seemed he was never going to be able to look at things the same way again, especially not Tom.

"I'm so sorry I'm late." He gasped, still a little out of breath. He pulled awkwardly on his uniform top. "Do you mind if I take a minute to change?"

Tom shook his head. "Go ahead. I'll get us something to eat."

"I'll only be a minute." Harry turned on his heel to head for the bedroom. He stripped his top off, and reached for a clean shirt, then changed his mind and headed for the shower before he could get dressed again.

It had taken him a long time, but he was finally beginning to see things the way they were meant to be. He and Tom together always, not only as friends but as so much more. His body was tingling just thinking of what it would be like to make love to Tom. Harry hadn't had much experience with relationships and even less with relationships with other men. He felt heat surging to his groin as he thought of the different ways he could persuade Tom to teach him what he wanted so badly to know.

When he emerged back into the main room the lights were not quite so bright and the most amazing smells were wafting up from his table. Tom handed him a steaming plate heaped high with the most wonderful smelling food; Earth food. He missed it more than he'd have thought he would, especially with only Neelix's fare as a substitute.

With the plate in front of him, and a fork in his hand, he suddenly realised he wasn't the least bit hungry. Food was so far from his mind, instead thoughts of pale skin flushed with arousal filled his head. Bemoaning the waste of good replicator rations, he put his fork down and turned his attention to his best friend instead. Tom wasn't eating either, simply stabbing his fork into the food and worrying over whatever he was going to say. He looked up when he felt Harry watching him.

"Why don't you just say what you have to, Tom?" Harry asked, realising the meal was going no where and thrilling at the wonderful anticipation of things to come.

Tom agreed, pushing his plate away and getting to his feet to pace the floor. He wanted to be standing when he spoke, once he decided where to start.

"Tom?" Harry asked quietly, sick of the pacing.

Tom stopped walking. This was more difficult than he'd ever imagined it would be. Harry was looking at him with such innocent trust and. . . something else. He suddenly wanted to throw his carefully planned speech to the stars and throw himself into Harry's arms.

If he did that, Harry would run a mile. He'd already scared him half to death with just a look and he just knew that if he let Harry know he wanted more than friendship he could say goodbye to even that much. He launched into his little 'just friends' speech.

"Look, Harry. I want to apologise for the other night in the Holodeck," he began.

Harry was looking so innocently puzzled. "Apologise?" he repeated, a small frown developing between his eyes.

Puzzlement was not what Tom had expected. It threw him off guard and his mind went blank. Realising Harry was waiting for him to continue, he stumbled blindly on, somehow knowing he was saying the wrong thing even as he was speaking. "I know how it must've seemed to you. I guess I just forgot who you were for a minute there. I didn't mean to scare you." Was that really his voice? So casual and calm, he could have been issuing a course correction on the bridge.

Harry was looking stunned. He didn't seem to be able to do anything but repeat what Tom had just said. "You thought I was someone else?" he whispered.

Danger signals were flashing like red lights behind Tom's eyes but he pressed ahead. He had to make Harry understand that it hadn't meant anything, that things could go back to normal.

"It's been a long time for me, I guess I got a little carried away. I'm so sorry, Harry. Please, can't we just forget anything ever happened?"

There was a long moment of silence as Harry stared at the floor. Finally Tom couldn't stand the silence any longer. He reached out a hand and put it on Harry's shoulder and that simple touch got a reaction where words had failed.

Harry jumped to his feet, shrugging off Tom's touch as if it was burning him. "Sure Tom." He smiled too brightly. "Nothing really happened after all, did it? I shouldn't have made such a big deal of it. Let's just forget anything ever happened." He was smiling but Tom just knew it wasn't fine. "Look, I'm really tired. B'Elanna's such a slave driver that she wants me back bright and early tomorrow morning. I need to sleep." It was a flimsy excuse and Tom saw right through it. Yet Harry had said they could forget it ever happened, that's a good sign, Tom tried to convince himself as he walked to the door.

Yet his eyes burnt and he could barely swallow past the lump in his throat. He'd done the right thing, their friendship would go back to normal once again. Everything was going to be fine.

But as he looked back at Harry, standing alone in the middle of his quarters, Tom felt a cold fear that this was the end, and with this one night he'd lost Harry for good.

Harry watched Tom leave, feeling a blanket of numbness wrapping around him. Life suddenly seemed like a cruel joke. During the entire week of confusion and mixed up feelings he'd never even considered that Tom wouldn't love him in return. All his life, love had been given freely and easily by his family, friends, girlfriends. He should have remembered that Tom was different. This was Tom Paris, his best friend. Confirmed woman chaser, faithful to no one, Tom Paris. Why had he so naively believed that he was the one who could make Tom commit to something more permanent?

On blind instinct he crossed the room and picked up his clarinet. Ignoring the precise musical notes imprinted on old fashioned paper in front of him, instead he began to play the music trapped in his breaking heart. It was low and painful, the melody haunting him as it rose and fell in mournful song. He let the music carry him away, letting the pain flow through his fingertips and into the clarinet.

He'd even been thinking of someone else. Gods, why was he such a fool?

---

When Harry intentionally bypassed his table to sit with Delman the next morning at breakfast, Tom knew that he'd made a mistake.

Why oh why had he forced the confrontation between them? It took only a few days to realise Harry was avoiding him constantly, and it was worse than the uncomfortable edginess they'd faced before. It seemed like years since they'd sat together in the mess hall, taking bets on how long it would be before Chakotay did more than just stare longingly at the Captain. Or combining their efforts to drag B'Elanna away from the warp core and into some crazy holoprogram. They didn't even play pool together at Sandrine's anymore.

The gulf that had appeared with no more than a look was slowly widening and they were so far apart Tom doubted they would ever find their way back to each other.

Surprisingly, no one else seemed to really notice anything was amiss. A few made sly comments about the time Harry was suddenly spending with B'Elanna in Engineering, or the time he spent playing his clarinet at all hours of the night, but things seemed to be moving along normally in every other way and Tom occasionally wondered if the constant pain he felt was a product of his imagination.

The pain was too real to be a dream though. It existed as a hollow ache when his mind was somewhere other than Harry, but when he had a moment to think, to remember the past friendship; the feel of Harry, the smell of Harry, his touch, his voice. . . with the memories the pain came crashing down upon him, and there was nothing he could do but ride it out.

Yet Tom was grateful for the pain. It was something he had left from the time with Harry. Without the pain, there would be nothing left to prove they'd once been the best of friends with a world of potential in their future. And the last thing Tom wanted to do was forget.

---

Forgetting was exactly what Harry was trying to do. He kept himself busy avoiding Tom and buried himself in his work with a passion that surprised and delighted B'Elanna and the Captain. Janeway didn't question his sudden obsession with work, and though B'Elanna knew something was wrong, she said nothing. Harry was grateful for that. He didn't want to think about his feelings, let alone discuss them with anyone.

Harry was trying not to feel. Mostly he succeeded, while he was debating warp field equations with B'Elanna, or crawling through Jefferrie's tubes, he could keep his rebellious heart on his work. It was late at night when he should be sleeping that was the problem. During those long white nights Harry would play his clarinet, and push all the confused emotion inside himself into the music. For hours music could soothe his feelings, expressing the anguish of betrayal, the growing love he was so desperate to fight and the desire running through his veins like burning lava.

Then there were the nightmares. In the dream he was falling through open sky with no one to catch him. Tom was nearby, he knew it with a dream-certainty, but Tom wasn't going to be there to reach out and stop his fall.

This was what things would have been like for him when they first got lost on the other side of the galaxy if it hadn't been for Tom. Before, there had been Tom and now there was no one. In his first year at the Academy he'd felt the same intense loneliness, but then he'd had his parents to call and they were only as far away as the nearest transporter. He'd made friends quickly, and then there had been Libby. Now there was no one to turn to when he needed someone to hold him in the night.

Any excuse to bury himself under work was better than feeling like this, so when Janeway called on volunteers to begin the dreaded task of food gathering, Harry jumped at the chance. He was put in charge of the first away team that beamed down to the surface with Delman, Gorman and Jenny Delaney.

The planet didn't have a name. It was listed on star charts as a minor M Class planet with a native humanoid life form still at an early stage in evolution. Janeway gave strict orders to steer clear of the natives, and they beamed down to the northern continent based on sensor readings that reported it was highly fertile and full of vegetation but sparsely populated.

There was no question the planet was beautiful. The trees were tall and high, the grass was intently green, the air was thick and humid, it was the Amazon back on earth or the Beldorian forests on Bajor. For the all Bajoran and Terran crew of the mission, it produced a vague feeling of homesickness they thought was put long behind them. They all busied themselves with scanning for edible foodstuffs and locating plant matter in order to beam it up to Neelix's food storage galley, trying to keep their minds from long buried memories.

The day had been tiring, but highly rewarding, when a shrill scream cut the air, followed by a second cry. Harry dropped his bag of fruit and sprinted in the direction of the noise. The second scream had sounded suspiciously like Jenny Delaney.

Harry came to a dead halt when the ground suddenly fell away from beneath his feet. He scrambled back, narrowly avoiding tumbling down the steep incline that had already claimed Jenny Delaney. She was clinging precariously part way down, fingers bloody from keeping hold of the crumbling rock.

"Hold on Jenny!" he yelled down to her, and without thinking, Harry lay down on his stomach, edging to the rim and holding his hand out for her. Their fingers brushed but failed to hold on. Jenny bit back a scream as her hand swung momentarily free before she managed to gain a purchase on the rock once more.

Harry cursed and leaned further over the edge.

"Give me your hand!" he stretched out as far as he could without losing his own precarious position.

"You'll fall as well!" she stubbornly refused to endanger another life.

"That's an order Ensign! Give me your hand!"

Momentarily stunned by the authoritative tone he'd used, and forgetting they were technically the same rank, she reached up. Their fingers brushed, then caught. Harry took her hands, trying to inch back, but the combined weight of them both dragged him forward instead.

Suddenly there were rough hands on him, pulling him back up the slope.

"Just hold on guys! We'll get you up, just don't let go!"

Delman! She wasn't alone, Gorman had come with her, alerted by Jenny's initial scream. They pulled back with all their might, and finally Jenny scrabbled over the rocky crater rim. The four collapsed into a heap together, breathing hard. Jenny threw her arms around Harry and squeezed the breath from him, trying to steady her own nerves.

Suddenly she reared back from him, grabbing his uniform in dirty hands covered with blood.

"I have to go down there!" she gasped.

"What!?!" Harry couldn't believe his ears, she'd gone crazy.

Jenny shook her head at him, trying to calm down enough to get her thoughts in place so she could speak.

"There was a little girl, a native girl. She saw me and ran, I must have terrified her. She ran and fell over the edge and I have to save her. It's my fault she's hurt!"

"The Prime Directive clearly states that -"

"Shove the Directive!" Jenny yelled. "That little girl could die because of us!" and she climbed unsteadily to her feet, moving towards the edge with every intent of climbing down there once more.

"Jenny, don't be insane! You can't go down there, you're injured!" Harry tried to grab hold of her arm but she shook him off.

"I have to save that little girl." Her eyes turned pleading, calling on any traces of friendship that might have once existed between them for Tom and Megan's sake. "She was just a baby."

Harry made up his mind. There was a little girl down there, and she was going to die unless one of them did something to help her. Jenny, with her injured hands, wasn't going to be able to do it. "I'll go down."

Delman stepped forward. "Harry! You can't do this, the Captain gave strict orders to stay away from the natives!"

Calling on every inch of command training he'd received at the Academy, and all he'd learnt from spending so much time on the bridge, he drew himself up and faced the three other Ensigns.

"The Captain put me in charge of this away team. I'm giving you an order; inform the Captain of what's happened and wait here for me to return. Under no circumstances are you to follow me. I don't want to be responsible for anyone else getting injured."

The silence was total, for all of a few seconds. Then Delman nodded. "Yes, sir."

"Wish me luck." He tried to smile at them and turned to examine the ledge, looking for the best place to begin his descent. A few meters to the left he found what looked to be a sort of natural staircase. If he was careful. . . he concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other, using the vegetation around him as well as the rocks to keep a grip on the steep slope. It was deep, the plants disguising the true length he had yet to travel. A soft whimpering told him he was headed in the right direction.

He climbed down, quickly losing sight of the others as he moved further and further down the cliff. Then the sapling in his hand slipped from the rock and he was tumbling head over feet, crashing through branches and over rocky earth to a dead drop of several feet. He landed with a sickening thud and a snap that he knew from the sudden pain was the bone of his left arm breaking. He felt as if he'd been used as a punching bag. For a long moment all he could feel was the pain, then his head began to clear and he tried to reach for his communicator with his uninjured hand, only to discover it wasn't there any longer.

"Talabula!"

The voice was reed thin and high with fright. The little girl that had caused him so much trouble today was very nearby.

"Talabula! Talabula kon neoa pen komdela!" She sounded weaker. Damn the lost communicator. Without his Universal Translator he couldn't understand a word she was saying. She needed his help all the same, and Harry gritted his teeth against the pain and sat up.

Big mistake. His head was suddenly a pound lighter and his stomach threatened to send up his last meal. Once he felt grounded enough to concentrate, he removed his shirt for a makeshift sling, the pain of removing it making him question the logic in that decision. Then he followed the voice which was still calling out occasionally.

She cowered against a rock and screamed when he emerged from the undergrowth. Harry raised his right hand, palm open, and held his position.

"I'm not going to hurt you. I'm here to help you, just calm down. It's going to be all right."

She stopped screaming, but still watched him warily. Moving as slowly as he could he edged closer to the child until he was near her side. Strangely enough, the closer to her he got, the less she seemed to fear him. By the time Harry could reach out to touch her, she was smiling through the pain.

Everything became clear when his hand brushed her forehead. Emotion whipped through the contact like sheet lightening, the immense pain she was in paramount in the connection.

"You're empathic," he whispered.

The little girl smiled at him, not understanding what he was saying, but knowing from the emotions he projected that he only wished to help her.

With his good hand, he examined the girl, trying to determine the extent of her injuries. His hand came away wet with blood when he touched her abdomen, and she cried out in pain. He placed his hand back against her forehead, trying to determine through the link just how badly she was injured. After the initial overwhelm of pain, he slowly began to sort through the conflict of emotions, pinpointing specific areas of injury. Her right leg was crushed and her left broken in at least two places. She was bleeding internally as well as externally and had hit her head when she fell. He knew with cold clarity she wasn't going to survive much longer. Already her eyes were glassing over and she was fighting to remain conscious.

He looked to the sky, searching for any sign of Voyager, but there was no way they could reach him any time soon, and with his comm badge missing, there was no way to trace him and send a search party.

It was getting dark, and the little girl started to shiver. She whimpered when he moved his hand from her forehead, so he placed it back again. She struggled to crawl closer to him, and he could see the tears in her eyes. It wasn't wise to move someone so seriously injured, but with death this certain Harry doubted it would make a difference. He helped her lean up, despite her pain, and cradled her in his lap, her head resting on his good arm. He brushed the bloody mat of hair from her forehead and tried to project comfort and safety to her along the link she'd established between them.

She had blue eyes. He studied them quietly, noting they were almost the exact same colour as Tom's. Her skin was as dark as Tuvok's, and it contrasted sharply with her light eyes, making them appear even larger than they were. Her hair was a brown so deep it looked black, and it straggled down to her waist over the animal hide she wore for clothing. She was dirty, and she smelt of animals, earth and metallic blood. Her eyes drifted closed as he stroked her hair, the sweep of her long lashes against cheeks wet with tears. She was peaceful now, drifting in and out of consciousness, and there was nothing at all he could do for her. Dammit, she couldn't be more than seven years old, and she was going to die because of the away team he'd led. It was such a waste of an innocent life.

If it wasn't for the empathic link, he never would have known the exact moment when she died. He felt the contact drift away, and though he tried to hold onto it, she was gone in the space of a few seconds, her life disappearing as if it had never been.

Around him darkness closed in and the wind picked up. Rain fell in a damp mist, slowly soaking them both to the bone. Harry held the child in his arms, cradling her slowly cooling body, welcoming the numbness creeping over him that blanketed the pain.

---

"He did what?" Janeway demanded of the young Ensign over the communicator.

Delman barely managed to keep the worry out of her voice as she spoke. "He ordered us to stay here and wait for him. He said he'd contact you as soon as he's ready to beam back himself," she reported.

Tom rose from his seat at the Conn. Harry was still down on the planet! It was going to be night soon and he was chasing after a native child down a cliff face!

"Captain," he began, stepping forward to enter the conversation.

Janeway held up a hand to silence him. She turned on Tuvok. "Can you pick up his comm signal?" she asked.

Tuvok consulted his sensors and raised an eyebrow Vulcan fashion. "I'm picking up his comm signal, but no life sign."

Tom felt like the ground had fallen out from under him. No, it wasn't possible. "Mr Tuvok, organise a search party. Take as many crew as you need." She wasn't the least surprised when Tom immediately volunteered. Tuvok glanced at her for assent, before agreeing to take him along. They disappeared into the turbolift together seconds later.

---

It was a short walk from the beam in site to the embankment where Harry had been seen last. The team of four, including Delman to lead the way, were hampered by the rain and darkness. Hand lights cut the night to a certain extent, but were of little use in the dense forest. Tom was impatient to get moving, but Tuvok preached patience as they rigged a pulley system to prevent further injury. Finally Tom was harnessed in and descending along side the Security chief into the crater.

"Harry!!"

There was no response to his repeated calls. They followed their tricorder readings to the comm badge, Tom's voice growing more desperate as they made their way closer and still picked up no life signs.

The tiny gold and silver badge was lying half buried in the dirt by the edge of a direct drop. Tom clutched the communicator in his hand and desperately called his friend's name.

"Harry!!"

Once more, no response. Tom sank to his knees at the edge of the drop. "I am picking up Human life signs directly below us." Tuvok was speaking to air, as Tom had already pulled the cable taut and was abseiling down. With a sigh, Tuvok reholstered his tricorder and followed the Lieutenant.

Tom caught sight of Harry's still form while he was in mid air and he hit the ground at a run, divesting himself of the rope as he went.

"Harry!" he called. There wasn't so much as a flicker of movement from the hunched figure. Tom reached his side and dropped to his knees beside him, relief blinding him to all but the welcome sight of his Harry, alive and safe once again.

"Harry?"

Still no response and Tom suddenly saw the tiny limp figure Harry was cradling so protectively in his arms. He reached out and realised that the child had died several hours ago. She was cold as ice and becoming stiff with rigor mortis. Harry's eyes were closed and he didn't move when Tom talked to him.

Not sure what else to do, Tom pried Harry's fingers from where they lay on the girl's forehead, and lifted the body from his arms. Tuvok was suddenly by his side to take the child and he returned to Harry and pulled the unresisting man to his feet, taking his weight when he staggered, and began to lead him away. At the base of the rock face, waiting for the beam up, Harry seemed to return the world of the living.

"Tom?"

Reaching out to gently stroke his cheek, Tom kept his voice light so as not to alarm him. "Yes, Harry?"

He looked for a moment like he was going to say something, looking into Tom's eyes and seeing the love shining so openly there. Then Harry turned away, shutting his eyes and shrugging off Tom's touch, attempting to stand on his own.

"I'm fine," he said instead.

---

He wasn't fine. It became obvious within a day of their quiet return to Voyager. With the death of the child something in Harry had died as well; his ability to feel.

There was no pain anymore for Harry, only a white numbness that would be frightening if he could still feel fear.

His arm was healed fully within the week and he resumed full duty back at Ops. He no longer sought out any of his friends, nor avoided them either. He drifted in a daze through the days and nights. He found he could look at the back on Tom's head on bridge duty and not feel a thing. People were concerned about him but he couldn't bring himself to worry over it. He went to Chakotay for counselling and talked about the little girl who'd died in his arms without him ever even knowing her name. He told the entire story, but felt nothing as he spoke. He stood in silence while the Captain tore a strip off him for his actions on the planet, not saying a word to his own defense. He drank too much with B'Elanna one night in Sandrine's, but when he helped her back to her quarters and staggered off to his own, still he felt nothing but the warmth of the alcohol. No anger, no fear, no hate, no love.

Gone. The pain was all a memory from the distant past and compared to terrifying loneliness he'd felt before, this was heaven.

Tom was becoming desperate. There was something amazingly wrong with Harry, yet he couldn't do a thing about it. He wanted, needed to help, but Harry wasn't letting anyone get close to him, especially Tom.

He wasn't the only one who was worried either. Kes waylaid him one morning and dragged him with her to the airponics bay to talk, but there was nothing much he could say.

"I just can't get through to him Kes." He absently dug a finger into the rich black soil, then brushed it off against his pants leg.

Kes moved forward to take his hands, debating something internally. Finally she spoke. "I can feel the emotions in him Tom. They're right there under the surface, and he can't bury them for long."

She was telling him something, and he was supposed to be reading between the lines.

"You think he's going to snap soon, and you think I should be there for him when he does," Tom clarified. Kes smiled slightly and gave his hands a little squeeze.

"Yes, that's exactly right."

Tom turned away from her and began wandering aimlessly through the rows of plants. "Kes, right now I'm probably the last person Harry wants around." He couldn't totally hide the despair in his voice as he spoke.

She was silent until he reached her side once more, then she waited for him to meet her eyes before speaking again.

"Why? Because you're in love with him?"

In shock, Tom didn't look away. "How do you. . ."

"My empathy is stronger than most people realise. You project your feelings very loudly whenever you're in the same room with him."

It wasn't pleasant to know that his feelings were on display for the young woman to read. He'd always been so proud of his ability to hide whatever his true feelings were and now Kes was telling him that she saw right through to his most personal and private thoughts. A slight flush spread up the back of his neck and over his face. He was a little embarrassed and a lot angry. He turned on her.

"This isn't about me or you." She spoke calmly before he could begin an angry tirade. "You're his best friend and he needs you. Why won't you at least try to help him?" she asked.

"Because he doesn't want me, Kes! Don't you think that I'd be there in a second if he wouldn't shove me out an airlock? Dammit, I love him and I can't do a thing to stop him hurting!" as soon as he'd spoken, Tom realised just how much he'd revealed. He turned and stormed out the door, heading into the turbolift and to the bridge to escape the look of surprise on her face.

---

And so it continued. Harry moving listlessly thought the days and Tom worrying over him, a private hell. He wanted to go to his friend, to break through to him somehow and tear down the wall he'd built around his emotions, but the truth was he was terrified.

Harry had pushed him away when this whole trouble had first begun and he didn't know how he could take rejection again. So he went to see the Doctor.

"You are the seventh person to talk to me about the same subject. The lack of communication on this ship is amazing." The Doctor shook his head in disgust, almost ignoring Tom as he busied himself with filling a row of hyposprays.

"What did you tell them?" Tom asked, quietly thinking 'Six others have asked about Harry?' and wondering how Harry had managed to make so many people care so much about him.

The Doctor turned from his work and looked steadily at Tom.

"I will tell you the same thing I told the Captain, Chakotay, B'Elanna and everyone else: There is nothing medically wrong with him. He will have to work through this problem on his own." Then he dismissed Tom by walking into his office and beginning a report on his computer terminal.


The small encounter hadn't helped matters at all. Emotions continued to boil inside him all day. Tom could almost taste the relief when was finally dismissed from the Conn and could head back to his own quarters. He didn't even consider going to the mess hall or Sandrine's; he wasn't the least bit hungry and the thought of company made him cringe.

His steps slowed down as he got closer to Harry's quarters, just four rooms down from his own. He didn't want to remember the days when he wouldn't have hesitated to barge into Harry's room unannounced, since those days were gone for good. He did remember them though, and it was like something out of a dream when he heard the faint sound of music coming from Harry's quarters as he walked.

Scales. Harry hated them, but had once joked he could hear his mother telling him to "Practice Harry, practice" and so he played them anyway. Tom stopped outside the door, listening and remembering. The sounds changed to simple tunes, them more complex melodies, drifting through the door. There was something wrong with the music though; it seemed strangely flat, out of tune, like it was being played by a machine. The music stopped and began again with a different piece. Once more the sound failed to stir anything inside of him.

Harry's cry of anguish and the crash of something hitting the door started Tom from his trance. He didn't' stop to think, just punched Harry's codes and raced inside. His foot kicked something as the doors slid shut behind him. the clarinet.

Harry stood alone in the middle of the room, breathing hard, nostrils flaring with anger, lips pressed tightly together. He was making every effort to calm down but failing.

"Harry?" Tom asked hesitantly, realising this was what Kes had spoken to him about only this morning; the emotion had come crashing down onto Harry and he needed someone to help.

In a voice tight with control, Harry ordered Tom out of his quarters, refusing to meet his eyes.

"You need help, Harry. You don't have to face this alone."

Still Harry wouldn't meet his eyes. "I don't need anyone's help, and especially not yours!"

Stung, Tom took a step back. His foot landed on the clarinet and it made a slight metallic groan as it received yet another injury. Without thinking, Tom stopped to pick it up.

"What happened?" he asked Harry's back. There was no answer, so Tom went on trying to elicit a response.

"You threw it at the door, didn't you?" he guessed. "Why did you try to break it? It cost you a pile of replicator rations and a week of Neelix's food to save them."

Harry drew a jagged breath, keeping his back to Tom and speaking softly.

"I just got so mad. I can't play anymore!" his voice started out calmly but gradually rose to a wail of fear. "I don't understand what's happening to me Tom! I can't play, I can't feel. It's like I'm watching myself go through life and there's no way to feel anything at all!" Harry began to shake, silent sobs breaking from him.

"You're feeling something right now, Harry. You can feel or you wouldn't be mad, you wouldn't be crying." Tom stepped forward, dropping the clarinet on the couch and stepped in front of Harry so he could see his friend's tear streaked cheeks. He wanted to reach out and take him in his arms and offer some sort of comfort but was afraid Harry would push him further away if he did.

"I don't want to feel the pain. For the longest time I couldn't feel anything but now it's like the pain is all that I can feel, and it's inside me and I can't make it go away." For the first time since they'd been about to beam out of the gully on the now distant planet, Harry looked Tom right in the eyes, "help me Tom," he begged.

There was no time for thought, or for weighing the consequences, Tom simply acted; he drew Harry into his arms and held him while the sobs were released and he cried out everything that had been building up for so long. He cried for the little girl who'd died, he cried for the bitter betrayal of his best friend's heart, he cried for the nightmare he'd lived on Akritaria and for the people in the Alpha Quadrant he finally understood he'd never see again.

And Tom held him.

The sobs slowly quieted, the shaking lessening. It was like opening a pressure valve in his heart. After the little girl had died there had been the most wonderful nothingness. It was a place where nothing could touch him and no one could cause him pain.

Tonight he'd also realised it was also a lonely prison; the music had refused to flow. It had never happened like that before. There had been days when it was difficult to play, or when frustration ate at him when his fingers refused to play the notes his mind heard. Today when he'd picked up his clarinet the notes were correct, the timing perfect, and yet the music was wrong. There was no heart in it, and that made all the difference.

Frustration was the first thing to return, creeping up on him to seize him when he didn't expect it. Anger was hot on his heels and with a cry of rage he'd thrown the clarinet against the door where it had remained until Tom had picked it up again.

Now he was standing wrapped in Tom's arms and he was right back where he started from; loving Tom and knowing that for the first time in his life someone couldn't love him back.

He pulled back from the false comfort of Tom's arms, twisting away to look sadly at him. . . and gasped. Tom was looking at him and there was love there. Love and desire and so much longing that he couldn't hide it.

Everything was moving full circle. He could almost feel the cold mountain air biting at his skin, the wet ice as it slid down his back.

Tom was reliving a nightmare. This couldn't happen again, not when he'd finally broken through to Harry. Please no, don't take him away from me again!

Desperate, he pulled Harry back into his arms and dipped his head to touch his lips to Harry's in a wild kiss. Terrified of losing what he'd just regained he forced Harry's lips open and deepened the kiss.

And Harry was kissing him back just as desperately.

Breathing hard they pulled back to look at each other. "Tom," Harry whispered, "I don't want this if you're thinking of someone else."

That Harry could even think such a thing shocked Tom. He shook his head as he spoke, as if he could deny Harry's words with the simple action. "No! I know it's you Harry and I want you. Please don't tell me to go away again."

Harry knew it was wrong to hope but he couldn't help it, he had to know. "Tom, I need the truth! Is this for me?" He stroked careful fingers up along Tom's cheek then opened his hand to lay the palm on the flushed skin just above his cheek.

This was the real moment of truth, Tom realised. He could seize the chance and risk losing Harry again, or perhaps bind them both together for all time.

There was no choice to make.

"It's for you Harry. It always has been and always will be." A soft kiss. "I love you."

Simple silence. Comforting and beautiful this time, no longer full of deception and hidden love. Three words with so much meaning that they could change sorrow into joy. Harry raised his tear damp lips to Tom's own and the kiss was soft and tasted of tears.

Tom wanted to go slowly, Harry needed gentleness and love, not overwhelming desire. Instead he discovered slowly was not an option, the sensation of firm lips and moist heat driving him quickly out of his mind. Had anyone ever kissed him quite like this before? Tom wrapped his arms around Harry's back, pulling him closer so their bodies were pressed against each other.

His fingers scraped down Harry's back and he pushed his leg between his lover's. Harry gasped at the sensation and broke the kiss, arching towards the sensation. It wasn't enough.

Starfleet regulation uniforms were frustratingly difficult to dispose of quickly but they gave it their best shot, pulling at each other's clothing in haste and barely managing not to rip anything. Finally Tom pulled the grey undershirt over Harry's head and tossed it into the corner of the room along with the black shirt. The black pants were next on his agenda and he eased them over the sensitive skin of Harry's penis, tossing the pants away as well.

He wanted to stop and admire the sight in front of him, all the lovely bronze flesh with only the finest covering of black hair. Harry wouldn't let him look though, he was impatient to get Tom into the same state of undress.

The feeling of skin against skin was intoxicating and arousing beyond Tom's wildest dreams. Harry's skin was so smooth and he couldn't get enough of the feel of it beneath his fingers. He placed a kiss in the little spot between neck and shoulder that had been tormenting him ever since he'd discovered it on the Holodeck. At the soft sigh of pleasure Tom licked the same spot, tasting salty sweat and the musky taste that was uniquely Harry.

He continued on the same path downwards, kissing and licking across the smooth chest until he reached a dark nipple. Tom smiled against Harry's skin, his nipples puckered, savouring each small pleasure- sound Harry made as he worried the dark buds with gentle lips and not- so-gentle teeth.

Harry was lost in pleasure, not sure if he could remain standing any longer. The tiny part of his brain that was still functioning suggested the bed was a lot more comfortable for this sort of thing, and the rest of him quickly agreed.

Harry reached up to grasp Tom's head and pull him away. A tiny frown appeared between Tom's eyes at being thwarted when he was just beginning. Harry kissed the frown away with gentle lips, then got distracted again by Tom's mouth.

Finally breaking free Harry disentangled himself from Tom and took his hand to lead him into the bedroom.

Stretched out together on the bed, their lips met again and the kiss grew wild, tongues moving in a rhythm that their bodies picked up and expanded on. Tom's leg was once again between Harry's and they pressed closer. The kiss paused and a small whimper escaped Tom's lips as his erection brushed Harry's.

Tom was reeling in sensations he'd yearned for alone in his dreams and he allowed Harry to take control. He rolled onto his back and felt Harry's lips making a wet path of kisses along his stomach. They paused just short of their goal and made their way upwards again. This time the kisses were slower and wetter, tormenting Tom as they moved over his hip bone but refusing to go lower. Finally Harry's hot mouth moved to his groin, but bypassed his penis. Tom moaned in frustration, then suddenly arched up as Harry took his balls in his hand, stroking and squeezing in a touch that was just a little too light.

"Harry," he gasped, incapable of finding the words to beg.

Then the teasing ended and his erection was covered by wet heat. Somehow he remembered not to grab at his lover's hair, and instead pulled the sheets into a fist as he arched off the bed. He was so close. . . so close and he was going there without Harry and he shouldn't but it felt so good and. . .

Harry suddenly released him and moved back to join their mouths in a desperate kiss. Almost beyond thinking, Tom pressed himself against Harry, seeking the pleasure he'd been so close to before.

It was just what Harry wanted, what he needed. "Tom, I need to feel you inside me."

The words brought Tom out of his passion filled haze and he gazed into Harry's glistening eyes, wet with tears yet alive with desire and something else. . . could it be love?

"Harry, are you sure?" "I want it more than anything." And the truth was in his voice and showed on his face.

From a drawer in the corner Harry brought a tube of lubricant and he used careful fingers to smooth it over Tom's erection, already glistening with a mixture of wetness from his mouth and Tom's own excitement. Tom tried to relax under his touch, but finally pulled Harry's hands away and pushed him onto his back, breathing hard. He wanted this to last and if Harry kept that up, there was no chance that it would.

Harry lay on his stomach, enjoying the sensations of Tom's hands on his back and his legs in firm strokes. Then the hands moved to his balls and sighed with pleasure. Yes, this was what he'd needed. The physical sensations were amazing, yet the tears which came to his eyes as Tom gently pushed a finger into him were from the wash of love and knowledge that this was right, it was the love he'd been unconsciously searching for all his life.

Tom wasn't content with the simple sigh though. He wanted Harry beyond sigh's, he wanted him so out of control that he couldn't do anything but feel.

Tom carefully added another finger, wanting to be sure the tight ring of muscle was relaxed before he moved ahead. Harry whimpered and pushed back when he withdrew. Still, Tom wanted more.

"Turn over, Harry."

Harry protested immediately. "But Tom, I. . . "

Tom urged him onto his back with teasing touches that almost tickled. Almost, but not quite. Finally, now he was going to use the knowledge he'd gained in the holodeck so long ago.

He pounced on Harry, tickling him mercilessly on his waist and ribs until he was moaning and laughing and gasping for breath, writhing on the bed under Tom's hands. Harry thought his skin would start to burn, he was so sensitive to the slightest touch of Tom's fingers. The occasional brush of Tom's own skin on his own only increased his arousal. He tried to fend off Tom's hands but somehow Tom managed to continually escape his half hearted attempts. Only when Harry was aching from laughter did Tom let up, moving away to leave Harry gasping for breath.

Exhausted, Harry lay panting on the bed, eyes closed as he tried to catch his breath. It was then he felt Tom's tongue licking his penis. Harry's eyes flew open and his back arched off the bed.

"Tom!" he gasped. The sensations that had moments ago covered his entire body quickly moved to one small area in a rush of blood and heat. Then Tom's mouth left his erection and he was being rolled onto his back. He could once again feel Tom's fingers preparing him. This time it was different, he cried out as he finally felt Tom's erection pressing against him.

"I'm right here, Harry. This is me now." Tom finally gasped as he pushed forward. It was so tight and so hot and it was Harry! He stopped moving, searching for the last shreds of his control. This was for Harry, he couldn't lose it now.

But Harry was pushing back against him, and Tom was lost, moving, gasping, and it was too fast but if felt so good.

Harry was crying, broken sobs of pleasure and love as Tom thrust into him, both men rapidly forgetting rhythm as they neared release. Tom took Harry's erection in his hand and began to stroke him. Harry moaned at the touch. So close. . .

"Tom!" Harry cried out as he felt his release shudder through him, and the sound of his name sent Tom over the edge as well, shooting into Harry and sinking his teeth into his shoulder.

They lay, still joined, gasping for breath, holding onto each other in the storm of emotion and pleasure of dreams fulfilled. Then Harry turned to kiss Tom and relaxed in his arms.

For the first time in so many years, Tom felt the burn of tears prickling the backs of his eyes. They didn't appear though, he didn't cry, he couldn't even remember how. Yet he hugged his best friend. . . no, his lover with a strange desperation of one who wanted so badly to believe, yet didn't know if he dared.

"I love you, Harry." Then he kissed him again.

They make love through the night and it was with the taste of tears and the sweet pain of feeling once again. Music woke Tom early the next morning, and the music was enough to make him remember what it was like to weep. It was haunting and full of emotion; love, pain, desire, happiness. He wrapped the sheet around his waist and padded into the main room. Harry was there, swaying slightly with the force of the emotion. But when he opened his eyes at the slight noise of Tom's footfalls, he smiled.

"I love you, Tom," he whispered, and put down the clarinet to move into his lover's arms.

With his face buried in Harry's shoulder, and the smell of his lover clinging to his skin, Tom smiled.

---

End