by Judy
---

This is the fifth in a Holiday Series, Harry's Halloween Dance Date was first, Harry's Stuffed Tom was second, Harry's Holiday Angel was third, and Tom's Twelve Dark Days of Christmas was fourth. I believe there's enough background for this story to stand alone, but reading the earlier stories would help.

Disclaimer: The Ensign and the other Ensign (sigh), and everything, belong to Paramount. The story is mine. Since this was written after the episode "Thirty Days", Tom is an ensign.

Copyright 1999. Thanks to Britta and Briony and others for their earlier feedback.

Warning: Explicit male-male sex, kinky stuff, language. Some angst. Some stuff that might squick you out. If male-male relationships and sex and discipline bother you, if the thought of Harry spanking Tom bothers you, please read elsewhere. If Tom or Harry or both making relationship mistakes bothers you, then this may not be for you. If you can get past all that, there's a story here. If you are under 18, don't even think about reading it.

Comments are welcome.

Visit my website for more Star Trek stories.

Archive/List: ASCEM; BLTS; R'Rain's; PacKage; CKS

© 2/11/99

---

With Valentine's Day approaching, Tom and Harry each tried to think of something to give the other. Since Christmas, so much had happened . . . Tom had been deathly ill, Harry had been caught out in fixing bets that Tom had lost, Chakotay had tried to bring them back together, and Tom had risked everything trying to help the Moneans. That Harry had had to set up Voyager to fire on Tom, that Tom had pushed him away when Harry came to visit in the brig, that Tom came out subdued and chastened, and busted to ensign, all these things had affected their relationship.

Harry hoped that Valentine's Day would be special and would strengthen the bond he had with the still stunned man who was his lover. Their lives really hadn't recovered from these events. Tom's release from the brig was only two days in the past. With both of them on different shifts until today, they'd had little contact with each other.

Tom knew he hadn't been much company for Harry on those rare moments when they were off shift together. Although he'd gone into the brig proud that he'd tried to do some good, he'd come out thirty days later quietly and not nearly as sure of himself. What he couldn't say in words to Harry, he hoped he might be able to convey in his choice of a gift for the dark-haired man he felt so guilty about. Tom couldn't believe he'd forced the captain to order Voyager to fire on him in the Delta Flyer. What the hell had he been thinking?

---

"So, Harry?" Tom's greeting in the mess hall at lunch sounded uncertain as Harry placed his tray on the table opposite Tom.
"Tommy." The Ops officer's face lit up with a grin at Tom's gesture for him to sit at the table.

For his part, Tom grimaced at Harry's choice of luncheon entree. On the other hand, he felt relieved that Harry wanted to sit with him, after all, no one else had. Both B'Elanna and Harry had assured him that a number of the crew thought his punishment too severe, however, so far they hadn't come forward beyond awkward greetings. Nodding towards Harry's entree, he remarked, "I avoided that . . . I had enough leola root to last a lifetime."

"Sorry," Harry said without really meaning it. Changing the topic, he added, "I'm glad we're finally on the same shift."

"Me too."

"What do you want to do about Valentine's Day? It's tomorrow."

"I know." Tom frowned, wondering if Harry thought he'd forgotten. Brightening on a thought he could share, Tom offered, "Hey. I checked. We'll be on the same shift tomorrow."

"So, do you have a holoprogram we could use?"

Tom hadn't really thought about the holodeck; his thoughts had gone more along the lines of wild sex in one of their quarters. A month was a long time to forego sex with Harry. "Is that what you'd like?"

Harry shrugged. It was a little hard to talk with a fork full of leola root casserole in his mouth. Once he swallowed, Harry said, "I just thought you might like to . . ."

Tom caught Harry's eye and leaned closer to him across the table. "Harry . . . the only holodeck program I want would have a bed in it, a few toys," Tom pitched his voice in the sultry and seductive range, "and you." Meaningfully, Tom added, "And Captain Proton isn't it."

Harry had just forked in another bite of casserole and began to choke and turn red in the face. Recovering, he poured a little water in his mouth and swallowed without further incident. "Tom!"

"So . . . what do you think? Your place or mine?" Tom gave Harry his full fly-boy persona, wide grin, cocky attitude and all.

Harry shook his head in wonder. This was the first time he'd seen Tom smile in over a month. Actually, it looked more like a leer. "Mine," Harry grinned back.

"You have any replicator rations?"

"Some," Harry admitted cagily. "Why?"

"I thought you might like to invite me to dinner."

"You don't have any?"

Tom gave a shrug. "Nope. Not enough, anyway. Part of my punishment. No replicator rations last month."

Embarrassed for Tom, Harry muttered, "Oh. Well, yeah, come to my quarters. It'll be fun."

Tom gazed across the table, trying to gauge the sincerity of Harry's words. He couldn't tell if Harry meant it or was just humoring him. He wondered if there was something he should say, but the brig had brought out all of his self-protective instincts and he hid his confusion behind a mouthful of food. When his mouth was half empty, he grunted, "Good."

"Then, that's settled. My place, 1800 hours."

---

Harry fussed with his gift for Tom, hoping Tom would like it. Properly wrapped with bold red paper, Harry put it on the dining table next to the place he'd set for Tom. Not satisfied with how it looked there, he moved it to the end table. He was about to move it again when Tom rang the door chime and walked in. As Harry turned around, he saw Tom in his uniform and briefly felt a pang of disappointment. Tom had gotten off shift half an hour ago. Couldn't he have changed into something more . . . casual? Harry had managed to put on khaki pants with a black t-shirt. Harry also noticed that Tom carried in his hands a lavender wrapped box about the size of a liquor container.

Tom hesitated, somehow sensing Harry's pang but not seeming to know how to interpret it. "Uh . . . am I on time?"

Harry gave him a full smile. "Sure are."

"Good." Still seeming uncertain, Tom shoved the gift box at Harry. "Here."

A little surprised at the abrupt delivery, Harry took possession of the box. It wasn't heavy, the way a liquor bottle would be, and it didn't rattle. Harry wondered what it was. "Uh, thanks." He turned around and, shifting the gift to one hand, used the other to pick up Tom's gift to give it to him. "Here. This is for you."

Tom grinned at him. "Thanks." Just as Harry had done, Tom hefted the small package, shook it slightly and apparently didn't know quite what to make of it.

"Let's sit down," Harry suggested. "Can I get you something to drink?"

"No. I'm fine."

They sat side by side on the couch, enough distance between them so that they didn't touch, but not so far as to raise questions for either one. "You go first," Harry urged.

Like a happy kid, Tom tore open the paper and lifted off the lid of a salad plate sized box. With one finger he picked up the scanty cloth inside and held it up for inspection. He noticed that Harry was grinning widely. "Uh, Harry . . . um, this is a nice color." It was bright crimson with small, white hearts on it. "But what is it?"

"It's from the 20th century," Harry protested. "I thought you'd know."

Using both hands, Tom manipulated the narrow pieces of red and white cloth. Finally, it became clear to him and his face reddened to a shade almost matching that of the cloth. "It's . . . it's . . . a thong?"

Harry couldn't have been happier that his love had recognized the exquisite garment he'd so carefully researched. His grin broadened. "Yep."

"And you want me to wear it? But only in here, right?" Tom's voice squeaked a little at the prospect. His initial disappointment in Harry's gift gave way to thoughts of what it would feel like to wear such a thing. That narrow strip of cloth running between his buttocks would be a constant reminder of Harry, a substitute for Harry's fingers and cock. Maybe Harry's gift wasn't so bad after all.

Harry leaned over and kissed Tom firmly on the lips, a hand reaching behind Tom's head to hold him close. Hungry for the contact, Tom surged into the kiss and managed to pin Harry against the back of the couch, his own gift to Harry set aside on the cushion. He pressed his open mouth tightly against Harry's lips, thrust his tongue out to massage Harry's tongue and palate. Tom groaned as desire flooded through him, but Harry managed to break contact.

"Easy, sweetheart. I've got a gift here to open."

With a frustrated sigh, Tom sank back against the couch and watched Harry pick up his gift. Unlike Tom, Harry took his time opening it, carefully removing the paper. Whereas Tom had ripped and wadded up his paper, Harry's fingers neatly folded his. Tom fidgeted impatiently for his lover to open the box. Finally, Harry reached inside and pulled out his gift.

"It's chocolate," Tom volunteered helpfully.

"Chocolate," Harry repeated dubiously. In one hand he held up a 12 inch dildo. "Is this dessert?"

Tom grinned and drawled, "Well, you could say that."

"Tom?"

"This is really special, Harry."

The dildo was elegantly shaped, with a large head, a tapered, curving length along which roped a dark chocolate vein. At the base, it flared out to at least three inches, a plug neatly sunk in place. Gazing up and down the length of the monster, Harry admitted, "It sure is."

"It has an outer coating that's impermeable."

"Impermeable? Did you practice all day with that word? Never mind. So, the outside of this . . . you can't bite into it?"

"Nope. But, when warmed to say, body temperature, the interior chocolate softens, and it becomes malleable."

"Malleable?"

"It becomes bendable," Tom clarified with a wicked grin. Unable to hold back his delight, Tom confessed, "And it can be licked out."

Harry gulped. "Uh, Tom? Who's going to lick what where?"

Laughing, Tom almost couldn't get the words out. "You will."

"You're not thinking what I . . . . No. Tom, no."

"You'll love it."

"I may love it, but are you really going to let that thing inside you? What did you model it on, anyway? An Hirogen?"

"No. Just my favorite Ops officer."

"I think your time in the brig has magnified my assets." Fingering the choice tool, Harry teased, "I don't know, maybe it isn't big enough."

"Hey. I ran out of replicator rations."

After they both laughed over that, Harry sobered, "Are you serious about this?"

Convincingly, Tom nodded. "Yeah. With your help, I'm sure we can work something out . . . I mean in." Tom's serious moment passed as quickly as it had appeared. "Okay, so, it may take awhile, but we have all evening, right?"

Harry ducked Tom's move toward his face and stood up. "How about dinner?"

"Aren't you holding it in your hand?"

Shaking his head, Harry concluded, "Tommy, Tommy. You're impossible."

Languidly, holding eye contact with Harry, Tom rose to his feet. He fingered his uniform fastenings and removed the outer tunic in a tantalizing strip, letting it fall to the floor. Then he slowly pulled off the turtleneck, only breaking eye contact when he had the shirt over his head. Dramatically, he flung the shirt on the couch. Much to Harry's wide-eyed surprise, Tom had something on besides an undershirt. It was royal blue, it was satiny, and it clung to his smooth, hairless chest.

Gasping at the beauty of the bare-shouldered man before him, Harry marveled that Tom had taken the time to shave his body hair and put on this spectacular outfit. Spaghetti straps held the slinky top in place. Tom's arms pressed against his sides and breasts swelled the fabric to a fullness rivaled only by Seven of Nine. Harry stopped breathing. Tom still had on his boots and uniform pants. Turning away from Harry, Tom bent over and pulled off each boot, tossing them away.

Harry watched spellbound as a barefoot Tom did something at his waist, out of Harry's sight. Slowly, Tom's pants began to slide down his long legs as the striking blue shift settled into place over his rump. Bending over, his back still to Harry, Tom tugged off his pants' legs. As Tom bent over, Harry had a flash of naked, pale skin that drew his gaze in a fixed stare. Tom remained bent as first one leg and then the other revealed smooth, lean muscles. All the while, Tom's bare ass flashed invitingly under the constantly shifting fabric of the thigh-high blue dress.

Harry wasn't sure he could restrain himself, he wanted to reach out and touch that teasing skin. He resumed breathing and waited for whatever Tom had planned next.

Pants off and discarded, Tom slowly pirouetted around to face Harry. He gave Harry a lust-filled smile, then reached over to the couch and plucked the red and white thong into his hands. Holding the thong up, he stretched the cloth in a slow give and take that had Harry breathing in and out to its rhythm. Carefully, Tom lowered the thong until he could put one leg through it. Then he placed the other leg in and leisurely pulled the thong up his legs, turning at the last minute. Once again, his rear flashed as he arranged the thong in place. Out of Harry's view, he adjusted his genitals under the meager cloth that barely covered the softly swelling cock. This adjustment required him to bend over just enough for the shift to ride up his backside giving Harry a tantalizing glimpse of red rope neatly parting his ass cheeks.

When Tom turned back around, Harry noted the pilot's pursed lips, the eyes now dilated to a dark shade of midnight blue. Harry's pants slightly tented over his crotch and his face flushed deeply with desire. He approached Tom as if walking in a dream state. Once close enough to touch the pilot, he ran his hands up and down Tom's arms, murmuring, "You are so beautiful, Tommy. So beautiful."

Harry's hands shifted to Tom's back as he drew even closer to the slightly swaying man. He placed his palms on Tom's bare ass under the short skirt of the shift and rubbed the smooth flesh from thigh to waist. He felt Tom shiver as Harry's hands roamed up and down, fingers kneading the firm meat, touching the red thong between Tom's legs and up his crack. With subtle direction from Harry's hands, Tom widened his stance, his hands resting on Harry's shoulders for balance.

Tom threw his head back, eyes closed. Harry took advantage of that long, exposed expanse of neck and shoulder and pressed his lips against the soap scented skin. Idly, he realized that Tom had indeed been busy in the half hour between the end of his shift and his appearance in Harry's quarters. With gusto, Harry sucked hard on the bared throat, pleased at Tom's almost constant moans.

Tom savored the heated touch of his lover's hands that now handled his buttocks with a firm sureness that made him sway in place. From the front, Harry's groin rubbed against him causing the thong to stretch until the tip of Tom's cock transgressed and leaked precum on the inside of the satiny dress. "Gods, Harry," Tom whispered. "Oh, gods. Do it, Harry, do it all."

Attempting to move them towards the couch, Harry pressed Tom in the direction he wanted him to go. But Tom stumbled, falling a little across Harry's leg, the dress hiked halfway up his smooth bottom. At the sight, Harry held Tom in place with one arm, and, with the other hand, polished those ivory cheeks. He pushed his fingers under the thong and massaged Tom's crack. Despite the somewhat awkward position, Tom moved his feet apart a little more, granting Harry greater access. Harry's fingers danced up and down Tom's cleft, the thong pulling on the snared cock and balls. Tom murmured, "Yes, yes."

Pressing the pad of a finger against Tom's anus, Harry stimulated the panting man still further. When he pulled his hand away, he gave Tom a light smack to the ass before standing Tom upright. As he did so, the dress fell easily over the slim hips.

Tom's eyes were nearly closed, his color high, his breathing an irregular afterthought as he waited for Harry's directions. Harry's hands, whether caressing or slapping, had Tom so turned on that he would have followed Harry anywhere.

The closest soft surface was the couch. With one eye on it, and one eye sweeping up and down the slender form at his side, Harry moved his hand to Tom's back and pressed him to take the few steps over to the couch. Seating himself, Harry wanted nothing so much as to play with his fantasy come true. He didn't even realize that he was murmuring, "Oh, baby, oh, baby," over and over.

In a daze, Tom felt Harry take his hand and pull him down beside him so that Tom was on his knees, his bottom settled on his heels. The silky fabric of the dress rustled against Harry's side as the two men's eyes locked in the heated momentum of lust.

Eyes still engaged with his partner's now half-closed blue ones, Harry's hands roamed over the breasts, knowing what they were, yet stimulated by the visual blue mounds to touch them, caress them, and love the man who did this for him. Breaking eye contact, Tom leaned in to Harry's mouth, pressed his lips against the other's and kissed him deeply. As he did so, Harry's hands roamed up and down Tom's sides, around his back, and up to his neck where his fingers carded sandy hair. Tom's own hands were never still as they explored under Harry's shirt, teased a nipple to a painful peak, and tenderly rubbed Harry's aroused cock, his hand moving slowly over the bulge in the khaki pants.

Harry felt Tom's cock take playful runs at ramming his side as they kissed. He wondered if Tom had been serious about the dildo, he wondered as well what it would be like to slowly work that huge gift inside the beautiful ass of his lover. He liked it so much when he had Tom across his lap where he could see and play with all the flesh and mystery the man offered to him. With the knowledge of their shared past, Harry suspected Tom liked it very much as well.

Sensing Harry's drifting thoughts, Tom pulled back a little from the kiss and cocked his head in a silent question, his hands still.

Huskily, Harry asked, "Do you think that dildo will really bend?"

Tom grinned. "How do you want me?"

"Over my lap, sweetheart. Right here." Harry patted his lap. "Let me get a few things first."

Tom reached inside his dress in between his breasts and pulled out a tube. "Is this what you were thinking of? Or did you have in mind the paddle?"

"Smartass." Something dark flashed across Harry's face and he admitted, "I don't think I could be trusted with the paddle right now."

"Ooh." Sensing, but choosing to ignore the implications of Harry's words, Tom grinned, wiggled his ass, and bent down to lay across Harry's lap. He could feel the hem of the shift tickle the top of his thighs. Stretching out his legs in one direction and his chest, shoulders and head in the other, he snuggled into both the couch and Harry's lap. His movements raised his hips and sent the shift sliding towards his waist. Turning his head so he could see Harry's expression, he was rewarded with the sight of rapture making his lover's face glow. Oh, yes, Tom could tell that Harry liked this silky outfit, the red thong parting his cheeks, the implied submission of Tom's body stretched out waiting for Harry to enact his heart's desire.

Harry began with soft strokes on those pale mounds. As much as he liked the red thong, he knew it had to go. He slid his palms under the narrow fabric on each side of Tom's crack and lifted his hands so that the thong stretched away from Tom's ass. Tom moaned from the impact of the cloth on his balls. Then Harry moved it slowly down, the red line shifting from his hips to the middle of his ass, to finally rest under his bottom. With a sigh, Tom appreciated the relief as his balls fell free. Harry took a long look at the inviting picture of Tom's pale ass cupped by the bright red fabric. Knowing he might never get his fill of such a sight, Harry nevertheless pulled the thong down toward Tom's knees and then lifted a leg to pull it off. Now, Tom's legs could be separated as far apart as necessary.

Hefting the dildo, Harry ran his hand up and down its smooth surface. He hoped that Tom was right, that it was impermeable, and nothing could breach that slick covering over the molded chocolate. He knew he would have to work to prepare Tom if even a few inches of the monster were to enter him. With a patience that belied the excitement he felt, Harry worked lubed fingers inside his lover's anus, loving the way his partner moved and moaned with his actions, especially liking the incredible tightness pressing his fingers together. A month without this had left Harry regretful, but it had left Tom with the muscular responsiveness of a virgin.

The lover prone across his lap moved and arched onto the slick digits that twisted, plunged, scissored, and fucked his ass. Along with the extra tightness at the entrance to Tom's body, Harry noticed how smooth and empty Tom was inside. That hollow, clean interior and the memory of his soap scented lover suggested to Harry that Tom had gone to a great deal of trouble to prepare himself for this night. Appreciatively, Harry moaned, "Spread for me, baby. Show me how much you want me inside you. Yes, that's it, baby."

Tom's restless legs went as far apart as the couch would let them as Harry praised him with softly murmured sounds of encouragement. When Harry continued his stimulation, penetrating deeper and wider with an ever increasing number of fingers, Tom bucked and cried out. Tom's excitement was reaching a high peak, one that Harry didn't want him to ascend just yet.

Deeming Tom ready, Harry pulled his fingers out only to be met with protests from the excited man under his hands. Without giving a second thought to his earlier misgivings over the paddle, Harry brought the flat of his hand down on Tom's bottom. Tom startled and moaned, "Yes, please. . .Harry, yes."

Harry rained down eight more smacks, the kind that reddened Tom's backside but didn't punish, the kind that heightened Tom's pleasure and sent him into nonstop groans and inspired exclamations, the kind that Harry felt brought them closer together in an intimacy that was almost stronger than penetration. Each spank increased Tom's arousal, his hard cock bouncing against Harry's thigh in rhythm with the slaps.

Thank the gods, Tom thought, Harry's comfortable enough to do this again. Harry had spanked him, consensually, well mostly consensually, in the past, but not since Tom's spell in the brig. Of course, they hadn't had sex either since his time in the brig. He could take much harder blows and still be aroused and eager for more. But his mind conjured up the interior of his body so stimulated and made ready by Harry's fingers that it almost spoke to him in anticipation of being filled by that large dildo. There would be time for more spanks later if that's what he wanted. Or needed.

Tom held his breath when Harry's hand stopped, the warmth of the light spanking spreading across his ass cheeks. He loved this feeling, this letting Harry past all his barriers. It was almost like being psychically filled.

As he listened, trying to figure out what Harry would do next, he heard the lube being slicked on the dildo and shivered as he thought of that intruder sliding inside him. Harry's fingers opened his anus and he felt the tip of the dildo at his entrance. A slight popping sound later, the head had penetrated and been grabbed by the sphincter. The degree of stretching, the heated burn, the sense of something exotic inside him, had him panting. Harry smoothed a hand on his back under the shift and rubbed in a circular motion as Tom began to calm and adjust to the invader. "Okay."

Slowly, Harry pushed the dildo in further, twisting it a little. Then he rested it in place as he pushed out more lube onto the pink tissues of Tom's anus. Tom's hips moved against Harry's lap and Harry took the hint to phase in more of the incredible toy. As Tom had promised, the heat of his body began to soften the chocolate inside the skin of the dildo and it slid in more easily until a few inches from the end. There the flared base began to swell Tom's anus until it strained to encompass the huge diameter of the dildo.

Even though the cabin was cool, he was sweating with the effort to take it all inside him. The adaptable monster inside him filled Tom in a way he never thought imaginable as it molded itself to his interior contours. He grunted when he felt it push up against an interior wall and Harry halted its progress until the encased chocolate softened enough to bend around the corner. "Yes."

"It's almost all in, buddy. We could stop now."

"No," Tom panted, "all the way, please, all the way."

Patting Tom's still reddened bottom, Harry concentrated on the remaining few inches pushing gently and slowly as Tom groaned and thrust his rear back against Harry's hands. The beautiful body across his lap tried to take all of the huge dildo within it. Harry swabbed more lube around the circumference of Tom's taxed anus, then sent the dark toy all the way home. He squeezed Tom's ass. "It's in, baby. It's all the way in."

Tom grinned and closed his eyes. He savored the achievement and tuned in to the outcry from his ass. It was heavy, much heavier than he'd expected. The burning continued almost nonstop. And yet it felt wonderful. He knew what he wanted Harry to do next. Breathless, he directed, "Take out the plug."

Holding the base with one set of fingers, Harry pulled out the plug that sealed in the warmed up chocolate with his other fingers. Tom gave a sharp exhalation as the extra pressure stroked his prostate. When Harry had the plug out, Tom pushed up his rear, his head still down on the couch. "Dinner's served," Tom told him with a grin in his voice.

"Oh, baby." There was Tom's ass just under his face, the chocolate inside the skin waiting for his tongue to lick it up. As he leaned over the trembling ass, Harry could smell the heady aroma of chocolate blended with the musk, sweat and soap of Tom, as well as the pungent scent of his own arousal. Harry took a deep breath of that heady mix of odors and moaned at the way they seared right into the pleasure centers of his brain.

Harry flicked out his tongue and its tip touched the waiting dessert. Holding Tom's hips still, Harry formed his tongue into a scoop and dug out a spoonful of dark chocolate and brought it inside his mouth. Once there, the chocolate melted to a soft texture in the heated temperature of his mouth. As he tilted his head down to take another lick, Harry vaguely heard Tom moan in pleasure.

Harry took his time as he savored the sweet flavor of the chocolate and appreciated its velvety texture. This was an incredible treat: to be feeding himself with his tongue from what appeared to be a bowl of chocolate nestled in the open asshole of his incredible lover. Tom's knees were widely spaced, his cheeks now pink mountains rising up in neighboring parsecs rather than resting side by side as they usually did. Harry himself moaned at the pleasure and sensory overload of it all.

Realizing he was being a bit selfish, the next tongueful of chocolate went down to Tom's mouth as Tom slowly sucked the full tongue clean of its sweet gift. Harry returned to the dark delicacy and alternated feeding himself and feeding Tom from its bounty. Each became more and more aroused by the simple act of eating in this way. Finally, Harry could stand it no longer and he warned Tom, "I'm going to take it out. Hard Harry here is getting jealous and wants in on the action."

Tom rested back down across Harry's lap and grimaced a time or two as Harry slowly and carefully pulled out the barely depleted dildo. He jumped when it dragged along his prostate and his cock firmed as if made of marble. When the head of the dildo broke free, Tom cried out and lay exhausted from the sensuous ordeal. Restoppering the dildo with its plug, Harry placed it to the side with a fond pat on its slick length.

Harry moved out from under Tom and knelt beside his sweaty lover, kissing him with chocolate covered lips, tasting the slightly altered chocolate that had mingled with Tom's saliva. Both appreciated the exchange of similar flavors. Harry's hand roamed up and down Tom's back, lingering over the soft mounds that had been so distant from each other only moments before.

Breaking away, Harry directed, "Turn over, sweetheart and let me see you."

Standing up, then quickly shucking his clothes, Harry admired the damp beauty of the blue clad, thoroughly aroused man who was almost melting into the couch. His dress twisted around his waist, Tom's pale hips and limply spaced legs gleamed around a centerpiece of throbbing purple cock. Harry lifted the hem of the blue satin shift and began to move it up Tom's chest. With a little cooperation from the man who could barely find his limbs, much less move them, Harry slipped the shift off of Tom and tossed it aside.

Flesh pressed against flesh as Harry knelt between Tom's legs, his thighs pressed against Tom's, his hands finding a home on Tom's smooth, damp chest. "Harry, Harry."

"Oh, baby. Let me take you, now."

Looking up into black, bottomless eyes, Tom nodded. A faint smile, accompanied by a slight nod, was all that he could muster in response. Closing his eyes, Tom gave in to the sensations of probing fingers up and down his chest, fingers that smeared chocolate on his nipples and then acquiesced to impatient lips that licked it off. Tom heard mewling sounds and almost cried to understand that they came from himself.

Then Harry's hands went down his chest, trailed over his abdomen and thighs, and came to rest under his knees. Tom felt Harry lift his legs up and over Harry's shoulders, running his hands along the long bones. Next, he pulled Tom's hips closer and up onto his own thighs. Tom didn't know how Harry did it, but he felt a wet, slightly rough tongue rim his anus and trace moist patterns from there to his balls. Firm hands held Tom in place despite his attempt to thrash around the teasing tongue.

The tongue probed and darted like a hummingbird to a flower as Tom groaned in time with Harry's rhythm. Finally, the torment ceased and a cool breeze seemed to flow over his wet skin and hole. If Tom could have formed words, he would have begged for more, but he was beyond thought.

Harry could hold out no longer. His cock throbbed, denied for too long, it needed to sink into the pink tunnel waiting for it. Harry positioned himself and placed the tip of his cock at that waiting entrance. Tom pushed himself toward Harry and his movement brought the shaft part way inside. Harry wasted no time in accepting the invitation to plunge and plunder the eager depths. Despite all the preparation, Tom's anus closed tightly around Harry's heavy cock in an involuntary reaction to the penetration.

"Easy," Harry crooned, "easy, baby. Let me in."

The muscles relaxed their grip and Harry sank deep into the warm channel. He pulled part way out and held himself in place for a long moment. Then, losing it, he pounded into Tom so hard his balls slapped against Tom's ass. He pistoned again and again into Tom, the slapping sounds, grunts, and moans of the two men crescendoing. When Harry's hand fisted around Tom's hardness, Tom screamed and came, long spurts of cum landing on his own chest, Harry's hand, and Harry's chest. His internal muscles spasmed around Harry's cock suspended momentarily inside him. The insistent press and release of Tom's muscles drew Harry's cock into a hard surrender that filled Tom with warm cum.

Harry held himself above Tom, remaining deeply inside his lover as his senses sorted themselves out and remembered to whom they belonged and how they functioned. Tom lay spent beneath him, his breath ragged and labored.Harry moved in a simulation of sex, his softening cock reluctant to leave its warm home.

"Don't go," Tom murmured, eyes still closed.

Recovering, Harry planted a light kiss on Tom's lips and felt himself slip out, trailing wet cum as he went. He simply collapsed onto Tom, unable to move any thing more than his lungs.

At some point, he realized that Tom was making sounds of discomfort and he rolled off to Tom's side. Harry angled a sweaty arm down across Tom's chest so that his hand cupped Tom's damp cock and balls. Tom murmured his appreciation, moved slightly to increase the contact with Harry's hand, satisfied only when he felt a finger slip inside him.

As Tom drifted off, his mind replayed Harry's comment about not trusting himself to use the paddle. What had Harry meant? Then he fell asleep with Harry following along soon after.

---

At first, Tom thought someone was tickling him. Warm fingers were at play in his asshole, a rather sore, tender asshole. But those fingers felt terrific. This was so much better than the brig.

He remembered falling asleep with Harry, both of them on the couch, Harry's hand comfortably holding him in a most intimate way. And now Harry must be awake and doing his best to wake up his partner.

"Harry," Tom whined, "I want to sleep some more."

The fingers traced a light pattern in and out, then patted Tom's bottom. "We need to shower."

Groaning, Tom turned over and sat up. As he did so, he winced from the weight that landed on his ass. Noticing, Harry reached out his hand to touch Tom's face.

"Are you all right, baby?"

"It's nothing."

"Tommy," Harry warned.

"Okay, so I'm a little sore."

"Gee, it's not like you had a monster dildo up your ass."

"The chocolate thing wasn't bad, either," Tom teased.

"We'll take a look in the shower. If you need the regenerator . . . "

"Harry," Tom sighed in exasperation. "Uh, Har . . ."

"Yeah?"

"Why didn't you trust yourself with the paddle?" It had been nagging at Tom and he just blurted out the question.

"What?" Harry looked startled. "I trust myself."

"That's not what you said," Tom pointed out. "You said you didn't trust yourself with it."

Frowning, Harry tried to remember what he'd revealed or not revealed while under the influence of a half-naked Tom Paris across his lap. "Maybe I did."

"You did. What did you mean by it?"

Harry gave his lover a careful look. He wondered if Tom really wanted to know. By the seriousness of Tom's expression, Harry figured Tom wanted an honest answer. He just hoped the pilot could take it. "I've been angry with you. I was afraid my anger would get out of control if . . . if, you know, if I had a paddle in my hands."

"Angry?" Tom looked hurt, his blue eyes pleading to understand. "Why?"

"Because I had to set up Voyager to fire on the Delta Flyer . . . and you were too stubborn or too full of yourself or . . . whatever . . . " Harry's voice had an edge to it, even as a small quaver undermined the hard tone. "I could have killed you!"

"And it would have been all my fault, Harry, not yours. You did what you were supposed to do."

"Yeah, you sound contrite now, but do you have any idea what you put me through?"

"I'm sorry, Harry. I didn't mean to put you in that position." Tom reached his hand out to Harry's shoulder, the bare skin cold beneath his fingers.

"You could have died!"

"I know," Tom admitted apologetically. He fell silent, wondering what he could add to ease Harry's mind.

"Say something."

"I don't know what to say. You know what a lousy track record I have with relationships. I guess I hurt someone I love . . . again. You told me once you were afraid I'd sabotage our relationship. Remember?" Harry nodded and Tom pitched his voice low, "Maybe you were right. You see, I had a lot of time to think in the brig."

"I noticed," Harry tried out a half smile.

Tom gave a sound between a laugh and a grunt. "Yeah. I know, I know. You went to all the trouble to come to see me in the brig. And what did I do? I pushed you away. I don't know why . . . I don't know why you put up with me."

"It's the great ass." "I guess I deserved that," Tom smiled. "You're beginning to sound like me, Har. A wisecrack instead of an answer."

Realizing Tom was correct, Harry shook his head. "Well, now you know why I didn't want to trust myself with a paddle with your bare butt under it."

"Thanks for the restraint." "Are we ready to shower now?" Harry followed his question by getting to his feet, Tom's hand falling off his shoulder. He half turned to look at Tom. The pilot sat slumped on the couch, a picture of despondency. "What is it?" Harry asked.

With a great sigh, Tom watched his fingers play with each other. Then he looked up at Harry. "So . . . no more paddles, huh?"

"Geez, Tommy, is that all you think about? Getting off? Didn't you hear me? I. Nearly. Killed. You."

Those four words resonated back to an earlier time when they'd both been imprisoned. Harry's remorse after that incident had been overwhelming. And Tom had given him a response right from his heart.

Tom stood up and faced Harry. He spoke quietly, "I wish I could take it back. I wish I had thought of something else besides me playing hero. I thought . . . oh, hell, I thought I could make a difference. And everything else just . . . just . . . I didn't think it through, didn't think about the impact of my stunt on others - like you. I fucked up. But I can't undo it, Harry, I can't snap my fingers like some Q and make time go back and do it over differently. Gods, I wish I could. Harry. . . I love you."

As Tom spoke, Harry watched him carefully. It would be difficult for a naked man to hide much, but Tom was a master at deception. As he heard Tom's words and saw his anguish, Harry felt certain that Tom meant every word he'd spoken. "Okay. So, maybe it's safe to use the paddle again."

He reached out his arms and drew Tom into a big hug, one that was returned with equal intensity. In a time honored ritual, they pounded each other's backs. Parting meant sticky flesh pulling apart. "Yeesh. Maybe we should take a shower."

"What have I been saying?" Harry complained. "By the way, where is that paddle?"

"Hey. It's Valentine's Day. Shower then dinner. Remember dinner? I'm still overdosed on leola root. You were going to feed me from a real replicator."

Entering the bathroom behind Tom, Harry told him. "There's plenty of chocolate left, baby."

Grinning, Tom grabbed Harry's face and planted a kiss on his lips. Finished, he told the other man, "Thank you, Harry. I wondered what it would be like in you."

"Hah! You're not putting that monster inside me. Only one masochist to a relationship. And you volunteered."

"Are you sure about that?" Tom taunted, dimly registering his own disappointment with the inequity of Harry's response. But, as usual, he refused to look at it. After all, it was possible that Harry still loved him.

"I think the order of activities has just changed. First a shower. Then the paddle, then dinner."

Tom gave him a tentative smile. "So . . .you're not angry with me anymore?"

This time, Harry leaned forward and kissed Tom. "No, baby, I'm not angry anymore."

---

End