The BTS Archive - A Brief Encounter
by CKC (ceekaicee@yahoo.com)

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"Come on, sleepyhead," said Harry, gently tousling the tuft of fair
hair that nestled amongst the rumpled blankets. "You're going to be
late if you don't get a move on."

The blankets shifted, and a muffled groan sounded from somewhere
inside the warm tangle. With a smile, Harry peeled back one layer to
reveal a beloved face, flushed pink cheek marked with a crease from
the bedclothes, eyes shut tight.

"Tom..." Harry leaned forward and brushed a kiss across the eyelids,
soft and warm beneath his lips. The lashes fluttered, bird-like,
against his mouth. "You've got to get up..."

"Time?" croaked from the blankets.

"Half-an-hour before we're on duty."

"Damn!" The blankets churned and tossed, and a pale figure emerged and
dashed for the bathroom. "Go get breakfast, and I'll be there in ten
minutes!"

Harry smiled and shook his head as he left their quarters. Tom had
never been a morning person, but too many late nights spent working on
the pilot certification course that the Captain had requested were
taking their toll. He'd just have to make sure that he got Tom to bed
earlier. His smile broadened as he thought of exactly what he could do
with Tom during all that extra time in bed. Okay, so make that much
earlier.

By the time he spotted Tom at the door to the mess hall, Harry was
halfway through his breakfast. Tom made a beeline for the food, then
carried his laden tray over to their table, the one they sat at every
morning.

"Morning, Harry," Tom said as he slid onto the seat next to his lover.
"Thanks for the prod this morning. I have got to get to bed
earlier..."

"I was just thinking the same thing. You've worked almost non-stop for
three weeks. Take this evening off." Harry brushed the tips of his
fingers over still damp curls at Tom's temple, and felt a small flare
of concern at the faint circles staining the thin skin beneath Tom's
eyes.

Tom smiled at him - a full-wattage Tom Paris
boy-have-I-got-plans-for-you smile. "Any ideas what we could do?"

Harry grinned in return. "I have a few," he said, trying to be
noncommittal, and failing miserably.

Tom leaned forward and pinned him with a stare that was just short of
incendiary. "So do I..."

"Oh..." Harry couldn't help the small gasp. Every time Tom looked at
him like that, he would react exactly in the same way - two meters of
Starfleet trained, Delta Quadrant seasoned officer, reduced to a
mindless, panting, quivering hulk, whose only functioning part would
spring forward in an eager salute and make walking difficult. Harry
shifted in his seat and groaned under his breath. "Thanks a lot, Tom."

Tom didn't reply, but the look of immense satisfaction on his face
would have put a cream-drinking cat to shame. The door slid closed
behind them. Tom stretched and made his way to the bedroom,
unfastening his uniform as he went.

"Okay, Harry. No work this evening, I promise. So," he glanced back
over his shoulder and raised his eyebrows, "what do you want to do?"

"Well..." Harry pretended to consider the question rationally, but
then Tom turned and looked straight at the bulge in his uniform, and
anything to do with higher thought was jettisoned. "First, I'm going
to..."

Tom held up a hand. "Shower first, love. I only had time to clean the
important bits this morning, and I need a scrub."

Harry's eyebrows waggled. "Scrub? I can scrub..."

"Harry..." The warning in Tom's voice was unmistakable. "Remember the
last time you scrubbed me in the shower? Do you really want to be
stuck in Sickbay for four hours listening to the doc's lecture on
'Safe Sex in Slick, Wet Environments' again?"

"Oh. Yeah. Right," he sighed, remembering how much fun it had been
until the unfortunate incident with the soap dispenser. "You first."

By the time Tom emerged from the shower, deliciously damp and pink,
Harry was ready for his turn. It didn't take him long to wash, but he
spent the entire time thinking about exactly how he would drive Tom to
incoherent writhing, stopping only briefly along the route for a
little breathless moaning, with perhaps a bit of quivering and panting
thrown in for good measure. Then he was out of the shower, drying
himself quickly.

"Okay, lover, are you ready to..." He had made it through the bathroom
door completely before coming to a standstill, staring at the figure
lounging on the bed. He took a tentative step forward and peered,
frowning. "Tom?"

"Yeah?"

Well, it was Tom's voice, to go with Tom's face and body, but what on
earth...

"Tom, what are you wearing?"

Harry eyed the bright white cloth girding his lover's loins and his
frown deepened. Some sort of thick stretchy band - elastic? -
encircled Tom's waist, and the rest of the... thing covered his hips
and crotch. With a moue of distaste, he noted the extra cloth at the
front, folded so that it resembled the shape of an upside down letter
Y. It was hideous.

"Briefs, Harry. They're called briefs, or Y-fronts, and they were a
very popular form of underwear for men in the late 20th century."

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why would anyone wear anything that ugly?"

"Well," Tom peered down at them, "I suppose I've seen more attractive
varieties, but there's something to be said for the plain white
brief."

Harry grimaced and sat down on the bed. "I'm trying to think of
something to say, and all I can come up with is 'take them off.'
Please, Tom - I'll have nightmares!"

"Nah, love. I'll make sure of that." Tom turned and grabbed Harry's
shoulders, pulling him into his arms. "Besides, to me they whisper
'seduction...'"

Harry snorted. "Seduction? Tom, seduction is a tight-fitting bodysuit.
A shirt open down to here," he traced a line down Tom's chest to just
above his navel. "A full-body massage with chocolate mousse. A hurried
grope in a turbo-lift. Not," he continued, "a butt-ugly pair of
underwear from a forgettable century."

"That's because you don't appreciate history," Tom said as he held
Harry closer, and wrapped a leg over his lover's. "I've seen some old
pictures of guys in these briefs that are so hot they'd eject your
warp core."

"Oh?" Harry shifted his hips experimentally. Tom's hardness was
cushioned by the soft knit cloth, which rubbed against his erection -
a pleasant friction. "Well, I've always wanted to learn more history."
He wiggled his hips again. Nice. "Teach me...."

Tom grinned and pushed against Harry. "Seems like you've already
discovered lesson one..."

"Enough talk," Harry murmured before grabbing Tom's head and rolling
over on top of him, then diving in for a kiss. Now Harry could control
their movements, and he pushed his hips against Tom, enjoying the soft
pull of the fabric between them.

Tom deepened their kiss, then suddenly spread his legs. Harry's legs
dropped onto the mattress between them, and their cocks squeezed
against each other more tightly. He moaned into Tom's mouth, almost
dizzy from the building pressure at his groin.

A soothing caress on his back helped calm him a little, Tom's hands
bestowing long, languid strokes as they moved down to his waist, then
on to his ass. But they didn't linger there, and Harry groaned a
protest as the hands moved over his flanks and the n between them. A
shift, a tug, and then Tom's erection rubbed against his, flesh to
flesh. Harry thrust back once, before breaking off their kiss and
peering down between them.

Oh my...

Tom had pushed the front of the briefs below his balls, and they were
held up gently by the elastic, like a bouquet, the thick stalk of his
erection quivering above them.

Oh my...

Harry scrambled down the bed, hands already cupping and caressing,
teasing and soothing, quickly joined by lips and tongue. A gentle
squeeze here, a long lick there, taste and scent coupled with the
sounds of Tom's soft cries and moans. Exploration became more
difficult as Tom twisted and arched beneath him, muscles tense, flesh
quivering like the aftereffects of droplets scattered over still
water...

Not yet.

Stilling all movement, Harry held the base of Tom's erection firmly in
one hand, the other pressing Tom's hips into the bed. With a frown and
a hiss, Tom blinked at him owlishly, futilely trying to thrust into
Harry's hand. Harry grinned at the sight of his lover, sweat- sheened
and flushed, glassy-eyed and inarticulate, briefs outlining the proud
curve of his genitals.

"Turn over..." he rasped, surprised at how difficult it was to force
out the words, and released his hold on Tom. Tom paused, and for a
moment Harry wondered if anything was sinking in at this point, then
Tom obligingly rolled over onto his stomach.

His ass was still covered by the white cloth. Harry drew a gentle
finger along the soft skin just above the waistband, then along each
of the leg openings, teasing the skin between Tom's thighs. Hands
clenched in the sheets, Tom pressed himself into the mattress and
moaned softly. Too close...

Harry grabbed a pillow, folded it, and coaxed Tom's hips up enough to
slide it under him. Tom's erection dangled free, and he moved his hips
restlessly, legs spreading automatically.

Now Harry could play. The cloth of the briefs bunched and smoothed as
Harry moved his hands, now and again sliding a finger or two beneath
the material to tickle tender flesh. Tom groaned and raised his hips
in a futile effort to increase the pace, but Harry was having none of
that. This was Tom's idea - seduction, he had said - and Harry was
determined to make it last as long as possible.

Kneeling between Tom's legs, Harry leaned forward and tongued Tom
through the soft cotton. Tom's groans grew louder as the cloth became
soaked, and Harry could use his lips and tongue more delicately
through the damp material - outlining, probing, teasing - until every
breath of Tom's was accompanied by a cry, a piteous moan, a call for
release.

Harry's hands were shaking as he grabbed the elastic and pulled the
briefs down to just below Tom's ass, and he paused for a moment to
admire the way the stark white highlighted the pink flush of Tom's
skin. Then he returned to his self-imposed task of driving Tom wild,
lips and tongue and fingers working together to render his lover
frantic with need. Tom writhed and shook and gasped, and Harry
continued his sweet ministrations.

Finally, however, it was time to grant his boon, and Harry reached
around and gently clasped Tom's erection. He leaned forward to rest
his head and shoulders on Tom's back, and took his own in hand,
pumping both in time. Tom's ragged panting spurred him on, increasing
the tempo, until, with a strangled cry, Tom came, Harry following
close behind.

Exhaustion. Harry slid to one side, pulling Tom around with him, to
spoon against his chest and sticky thighs. Arms curved in familiar
shape, surrounding his lover's heaving ribcage. Thundering heartbeat,
echoed by the pulse in the strong throat before his face. He languidly
kissed Tom's neck, up the corded muscles to the vulnerable hollow at
the base of the skull.

Tom sighed and shifted against him, the briefs brushing Harry's
thighs, dragging against his flesh. Harry shivered in anticipation.
Next time, he'd wear the briefs, and Tom would touch him there, and
then he'd... Oh...

Harry fell asleep, dreaming of white cotton knit and strong elastic.

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The End