The BLTS Archive- The Moment Of Truth

---

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)

Dedication: This one's for B2, editor extrodinaire 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 o 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
externallyand 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 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.

---

The End