by Jessayme Hawke
---
Disclaimers: Paramount and Viacom own the characters, but the story is
mine. I'm not making any profit off this story. It is purely for my
own peace of mind and hopefully the enjoyment of others.
Notes: Written July 30, 1998. I didn't intend to write a sequel, but
Tom wouldn't quit nagging me until I did. ~grin~
Warnings: Angst. Love between two men.
---
One might say I had a sixth sense, at least when it came to Harry Kim. I
knew the moment he walked into Sandrine's. I was with Meghan, giving
her a few more pool lessons. I went to call him over when Meghan said
something and I couldn't help but laugh. After I finished laughing, I
looked up to find him moving to the back of the bar. I watched his every
move. How could I not?
He was handsome, no, beautiful. Yes, beautiful was one word that described
him. Others were loyal, compassionate, honest, and totally off limits. It
wasn't the damn promise to Libby. He told me had mourned that
relationship long ago and has gone on. I just didn't want to screw up
our friendship. Even after all this time I still don't have many
friends. At least, none as close as him. He looked beyond the carefree
image I projected.
I know I could push him away, but I can't do that. I need him, even if
all I have is his friendship. It's enough to keep me going. At least,
that is what I keep telling myself.
I'm so caught up in thinking of him that I miss a question from
Meghan. I turn my head back to her with a, 'huh'. I watch her take
a glance where my attention had been focused. She gives me a sympathetic
smile. I blush slightly.
I never told her how I felt about him, but I think she had a good idea.
We'd been just friends for a while now. Oh, we'd occasionally
still get together but there were no strings attached. We were both glad
for the company.
I flash a charming smile at her. I hope it's enough to get her to
forgive me for the lapse. She just laughs and punches me playfully in the
arm with a, 'flirt'. I watch her move around the table, but
I'm distracted again. I feel like he's watching us. I can't
figure out why he's not coming over to talk, or at least say hello. I
went over the last week, wondering what I might have done to make him
angry at me. I can't think of a thing.
I panic a moment. Does he know, or at least suspect? I shake my head no,
impossible. I keep my emotions in check when I'm around him. The
famous Paris mask, or at least that's what B'Elanna calls it. I
admit it. It's hard for me to trust people, let them in and see me.
The real me. He's seen most of what I am. I told him long ago about
growing up beneath my father's shadow, Caldik Prime, the Maquis, and
prison.
Meghan catches my attention and I laugh silently at the position she's
put herself in. Body draped half way across the table, the cue in the most
awkward position for the shot. I came up from behind and show her a better
way to do the shot. I can feel the heat of her body and the scent of her
perfume.
I know it's a horrible thing to admit, but sometimes I do imagine
it's him I'm touching when I'm with Meghan. I feel bad at
times that I do it, but I can't help it. I often wonder what it would
be like to run my fingers through his dark hair. If his full lips bruise
easily when kissed.
Get a hold of yourself, Thomas. I look up in time to see him lean back
into the shadows and almost get a cue stick in the stomach. I softly grunt
in response and Meghan gives an apology. She mutters that she'll never
learn all the nuances of the game. I tell her that it takes time to learn
all the tricks.
She decides to call it a night and wonders if I'll escort her back to
her quarters. I had an idea where it would lead, but I wasn't up to
it. It wouldn't have been fair to her. I'd be thinking about him
for the rest of the night. I did escort her home though, with one more
glance in his direction before stepping out the doors.
When we reach her door, she asks if I'd like to come in for a while. I
politely decline and say I need to finish a report. I know, a lame excuse,
but she accepts it with a smile. I kissed her cheek softly with a wish
goodnight. I can hear a soft laugh of, "a report. . . yah
right," as her door shuts.
I stood there a moment thinking over what I'd heard. Yep, sighing, she
definitely knows. It makes me think who else might know. I mean, am I
really that obvious? I shake my head and walk back down the corridor. I
started for my quarters but found myself in front of the holodeck. I stare
at the doors. I could go in there right now and tell him how I feel.
What's the worse thing that could happen?
He could laugh in my face, turn away in disgust, or run screaming from the
holodeck. Okay, the last one was a bit of an exaggeration. I could simply
just lose the best friend I have ever had. No, I can't tell him. Not
yet. I take a deep breath, getting my emotions under control before I step
back into Sandrine's.
I was relieved to find him still sitting in the back of the bar. A check
of the room found that we were the only two in the place. I headed to the
table he occupied and was surprised to find him hunched over the table. I
said his name, but got no response. I repeated it a bit louder and it
seemed to break whatever trance he was in.
I jump back slightly as his head whips up. His eyes are wide and I realize
he's surprised to see me here. He almost looked as if he didn't
want me here. I just smile at him and sit down. It seemed like it took an
effort for him to even give a 'hi' and I think back to what I
might have done. He looks around and his expression seems guarded to me.
He asked where Meghan was and my smile faltered, but I keep my expression
neutral. I explain what happened.
He attempts to make a joke and I give a half-smile this time. I proceeded
to tell him that Meghan and I were over a long time ago, nothing more than
friends. He came off with something about 'who's the new
flavor'. The tone of his voice just cut through me. I didn't let
it show, but it hurt deeply. He of all people should have known the image
was just an image. I know he expects a smart remark, but I can't seem
to come up with one. He looks up at me and I keep my expression tight. I
couldn't let him see how his words hurt.
Obviously, I didn't have it on tight enough because he stammered an
apology and bolted up to leave. I grabbed at him and caught his wrist. I
felt a shock at the contact, and heard him gasp. I want to say something
but the words fail me. He's hurting and I want to know why. What did I
do?
"Harry," I ask him to look at me, but he keeps his face turned
away. He asks me to let him go and I say no. I know if he really wanted to
he could break my grasp. I ask again, pleading. I see his shoulders
slightly sag in defeat. He slowly turns his face to me and our eyes meet.
I'm shocked at what I see. The emotions evident in his dark eyes -
passion, desire and love. God, love. He loves me.
I'm caught of guard as he tears his eyes from mine, it's almost a
physical shock. He asks again to let him go and I almost cry from the pain
in his voice. I had to tell him, now or never. I sighed, "oh Harry,
'I love you too".
I think it took a moment to register what I said. He finally turned to
look at me, really look at me. I let the mask fall away. Everything I felt
for him there to be seen. I felt him trembling. I knew I had to hold him
and pulled him to me. I wrapped my arms around him and felt his going
around me. I pressed my lips to his. God, it was better than I had
imagined. I wanted to touch him all over. He felt so right on my arms.
We sat there touching, kissing for heavens knows how long. We finally
managed to pull ourselves away from each other. His hair was slightly
mussed and I did resist the urge to brush the strands back. He asked,
"What do we do now?"
I heard the uncertainty in his voice and it made my heart ache. I wanted
to hold him in my arms forever. I wanted to make damn sure he knew how
much I loved him every moment of the day.
"Well, " I took his hands, lacing his fingers with mine. "I
thought we'd spend the rest of our lives together.".
I smile at him. I did catch a bit of uncertainty on his face before he
returned my smile, his words making me feel like I was flying.
"Sounds good to me."
---
End
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