The BLTS Archive- Maybe Someday You Will Come True by Joanne Collins (luchenbackoutlaw@gmail.com) --- Disclaimer: Everything Trek belongs to Paramount/Viacom. Please do not distribute, archive, etc, without my permission. May be archived on the ASC archive, the PKSP archive and R'Rain's Slash Archive only. Please do not link to the story without my permission. For Mykkhal's challenge on PKSP. 1,500 (actually, 1,495) words, first-time P/K and they must both be straight before it happened. The drinking incident is based on one that I actually witnessed, but the guys weren't *nearly* as cute. I borrow elements from several stories here, most notably Subconscious Desires by Pandora and Sweet Surrendery by Anita Kite, but this permutation of the elements is all mine! The title is from a Crystal Gayle song, When I Dream. The lines go: When I dream, I dream of you, Maybe someday you will come true. I thought it was appropriate for the story. --- Shore leave. Since when had it gone right for the two of them? If it hadn't been being thrown into an alien prison, Tom had been 'detained' by alien authorities, or Harry had been held against his will by a race of predatory females. This time, the lack of a room seemed a minor inconvenience at best. "It's okay," Tom grinned at Harry, "We can share. B'Elanna isn't coming down till tomorrow, and there'll be a room free for you then." "Thanks, Tom," Harry breathed a sigh of relief. He really didn't feel up to sharing a room with Seven just yet, even though she had offered. Their relationship was still too tenuous for that. He and Tom were more comfortable with each other. It wasn't very late, so Tom and Harry decided to sample the local nightlife before turning in. Like in any culture, Tom was able to find the bars. Harry smiled and tagged along, making sure that Tom didn't get into too much trouble with the local women. B'Elanna would kill both of them. Instead, Tom decided to sample a measure of every type of local intoxicating beverage. Which would have been fine, except for the fact that there were seventy different local specialities. Even Tom couldn't hold seventy measures (ranging from a drop to a tankard with just about every conceivable measure in between) of highly alcoholic drinks without feeling it. Harry stopped at fifteen, when the world was just starting to blur around the edges, switching to the local equivalent of mineral water. Tom, though, refused to stop before he'd tried all seventy. He threw up six times, fainted four, and was in a very pliably drunk state when he finished. "C'mon, Harry, lesh dance," he slurred, when the local musicians began playing...something. Harry refused to acknowledge it as music. "Not right now, Tom," Harry blushed as Tom lurched to his feet, and breathed into his face. Harry tried not to recoil from the breath, it was actually fairly sweet, as far as scents went, and he almost laughed as Tom blinked owlishly at him, before moving over to...dance, Harry finished the thought charitably. Harry didn't know what it was about his friend that, even now, prompted him to get so intoxicated on the rare occasions that he could. He knew that Tom was a borderline alcoholic, and that on Voyager he *never* drank, but every shore leave (except Akriteria) Tom and he had ever been on together, Tom had tied one on. The one time Harry had tried to get Tom to open up, all he had said was, "To make the ghosts disappear." Harry thought Tom had meant the ghosts of the three dead officers from Caldik Prime, but sometimes he wondered if they were only the most recent. Tom had found a partner, a local woman. Their 'dance' was all but having sex in public. If B'Elanna ever found out...Harry couldn't let that happen. "Mind if I take over?" Harry tapped Tom on the shoulder. "Of courshe, Harry, I alwaysh wanna dancshe with you," Tom slurred. "Time to get out of here," Harry decided, quickly, not liking the looks he and Tom were getting from various bar patrons. Tom leaned on him, giggling drunkenly, as they exited the bar. Harry tried to ignore how right the weight of Tom's arm felt over his shoulders, as it always did. After a short, torturous trip through more side streets than Harry cared to remember in which Tom or both of them felt the need to answer one or another of nature's calls as visited upon them by the alcohol, they returned to the inn with no further incident, Tom being only a minor inconvenience to Harry's sense of balance, the drink he'd consumed being more of an impediment. They both laughed hysterically when Harry dropped the room key four times before getting it into the door, and it took four tries for him to open it. After Harry managed to get both of them inside, he realised that there was only one bed. "Fuck," he said, rather loud in the sudden silence. Tom started giggling uncontrollably after Harry swore. "What?" "Mr Perfect Engsign *swears*? Watch out, Harry, or I'll tell Earth Mother Janeway on you." "You, Mr Paris, are drunk," Harry began, feeling the buzz of the alcohol continuing to affect him, "And so am I." "What should we do about it?" Tom asked, mock-seriously. "I think we should take a shower and get some sleep," Harry decided. "You first," he added, as Tom's head began to nod. After both men had showered, Harry began showing off his colourful vocabulary again when he realised that neither of them had brought pyjamas. "I don't wear 'em anyway, Harry," Tom yawned, stripping off his clothes and climbing into bed. Harry decided that modesty was idiotic at this point and did the same, sliding into the other side of the bed. Without further incident, the two friends drifted to sleep. --- Harry dreamed. He could feel a mouth, latching on to his, kissing gently, tongue probing. Harry moaned in his sleep, allowing the tongue entrance. He couldn't see who it was, so he decided to relax and enjoy. The skilful mouth explored his, nipping kisses along his jawline, sucking on his neck, moving to tongue a nipple to erection. Harry moaned as the talented tongue explored his nipples, drawing sensations out of him that he'd never felt before, the slight roughness making him moan again. The tongue continued it's journey, tracing his ribs, causing him to moan/chuckle, tracing the muscles of his stomach, tracing the outline of his navel, licking across the sensitive skin below. Then it seemed to hesitate, just for a moment, before licking across the underside of his hardness. Harry moaned, bucking into the air, then the mouth descended on him, making him scream with need. A few firm sucks and pulls, and Harry was climaxing down the warm wet throat. He reached to stroke the hair of his dream lover, but before he could, he sank into a deeper slumber. --- Later in the night, Tom dreamed. He ran his hands through thick hair as a mouth closed over his, tongue exploring deeply inside the warm wetness. Lush, full lips explored his face, his eyebrows, his cheekbones, his chin, his jaw. The lips roamed further, gently nipping at the hair on his chest, causing gentle tugs of pain. Then the lips covered a nipple, causing Tom to moan as the lips jumped from one nipple to the other. The lips teased Tom's body hair gently, tugging, pulling, but never crossing the pain/pleasure threshold. The lips parted, when they reached his navel, and a warm, wet tongue explored the sensitive flesh around and below, then moved lower, past the sensitive flesh below it, then moving through the red-gold curls, with the same pain/pleasure that had characterised the earlier sensations. The lips teased the tip of Tom's shaft, moving on the heated length, kissing all over the warm flesh of Tom's desire, catching the droplets that wept from the tip, teasing with the promise of fulfillment. The lips clamped down, then began a gentle, firm teasing sucking, allowing Tom to thrust between them gently. The teasing movements of the lips drew Tom's climax out of him. Tom collapsed onto the bed, utterly drained. He moved to take his dream lover into his arms, but fell into a deeper sleep. --- Harry woke first the next morning, with the feeling of langour only a satisfying orgasm the night before can induce in a freshly-woken state. He noticed an odd taste in his mouth, and presumed it was from the mixture of liquor he had consumed the previous night. Moving out of bed, he noticed that he was covered in dried come. It didn't seem as copious as it generally did, and Harry wondered if the drink had affected that. On that thought, he walked into the bathroom, showered, and never noticed the tiny bruise, the shape of an index finger perhaps pressed too hard, on the small of his back. --- Tom woke, several hours later, groaning at the brighness of the sunlight, the intensity of the headache and berating himself for doing this again. Harry watched in amused sympathy as Tom managed to become slightly more human, following a shower. Tom didn't notice a tiny scratch on his shoulder blade among the pain the alcohol removing itself from his body was causing, and his mouth felt so like cotton that any odd taste would never have been noticed. As they negotiated their night's stay with the innkeeper, they noticed a stall selling some of the liquor they had consumed the previous night. They didn't pay any attention to the stallholder and his customer, and so did not hear the stallholder say, "It's never failed as an aphrodisiac. It's even said that it breaks down the barriers and lets you have what you really want." --- The End