The BLTS Archive- Threesomes
#8: Twosomes: Comforts
by Nyani-Iisha F. Martin(nfmartin@fas.harvard.edu)

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Disclaimers: So, OK. These characters (except for Varena), Voyager,
and the entire Star Trek universe belong to Paramount, who,
admittedly, have thrown  us slashers as many juicy bones as they dare.
It's up to us to flesh  them out, and so we try.  *smile* What I've
written about these  characters belongs to me, COPYRIGHT 1997
Nyani-Iisha F. Martin; of  course, I have absolutely no intention of
making any money from this  story, and I ask that nobody else do so
either. Please ask me before  reprinting this story, archiving it,
etc.

Oh, and, BTW, this is an NC-17 story. If you are under 18 or offended/
disturbed by explicit male-male sex, please find that 'n' key and
press it now, for all our own goods.

Disclamature complete. Commence story!

---

Tom woke up from a deep, sound sleep, pleasantly surprised that
nothing more agitating than darkness filled his mind's eye. _I hope
this means I'm getting better_, he thought, with a small smile; still
drowsy, he turned over to throw an arm across Harry's chest--and
paused, realizing with a jolt what had awakened him.

Harry was whimpering in his sleep, the normally calm face screwed up
in pain, the hand over the sheets clenched into a fist. Tom was about
to shake him to wake him up, then thought the better of it, knowing
exactly what Harry's nightmare was.

_Seven days_, Tom thought, carefully laying his hand on Harry's
forehead, hoping he would realize the touch was friendly. They'd been
back on Voyager for seven days. Seven days away from that hellish
prison, a waking nightmare for Tom, and even worse, if that were
possible, for Harry. And seven nights. Seven nights of being unable to
sleep alone, of pain-filled dreams. The first four they hadn't managed
to sleep very much at all; but, with some time they'd begun to heal a
little.

Harry quieted somewhat under Tom's gentle touch; encouraged, Tom
started whispering, "We're safe, Harry, we're home on Voyager, I'm
fine, you're fine, we're safe," hoping Harry would hear him and slip
into a more peaceful sleep. Instead, Harry's eyes popped open; he drew
a deep and shaky breath, glancing around wildly, and when his eyes
fell on Tom he lunged up to wrap his arms around his lover, clutching
him desperately.

"Tom," he moaned, and Tom held him as tightly as he dared, rocking
him, remembering waking in that same panic the previous night.

After a little while Harry stopped trembling, and his embrace grew a
bit less desperate, though he kept his arms around Tom, his wet face
buried in his shoulder; they lay on their sides, just holding one
another, for all of several minutes before Harry could disengage
himself and rub his eyes, and Tom let him sit up, one arm around his
waist, and didn't say anything. It didn't need to be asked; Harry
asked for quarter-level lights, then told him anyway.

"It was when you were stabbed," Harry said miserably. "You died, I
watched you die, over and over again, and each time they dragged me
away and then it started again---"

Harry's voice broke and he buried his face in his hands, as Tom sat up
to drape an arm across his shoulders.  "I'm not dead now," he said
gently.

"I know," replied Harry, smiling up at him, tears still in his eyes.
Tom bent forward slowly to kiss the corner of one almond-shaped eye,
and Harry smiled and moved his face so Tom's lips slipped across to
his.

After one soft kiss Tom pulled himself back and stroked his hand up
the side of Harry's face to ruffle his hair. "You OK?"

"No," said Harry honestly, and looked down again, clenching his fists
in frustration. "Tom, am I ever going to be OK? Is either of us? I
still can't sleep through the night."

"Shhh. Give yourself time. We've only had a week. For what we've been
through, how long it takes to heal, we might as well still be there."
Harry winced at the phrasing, and Tom couldn't blame him; he kissed
his forehead apologetically. "We'll be OK. We will."

"How do you know?"

_Because I stayed alive when I had a lot less to live for_, thought
Tom, trying to think of something inspirational; startled by his
pause, Harry looked up at him, those clear dark eyes demanding
honesty, and Tom gave up and told him what he'd thought.

Harry smiled, and smiled wider when Tom added, "And if you could
survive being sick underground with a cranky half-Klingon you can
survive a Cardassian prison movie with me"; he opened his mouth to
reply, then thought better of it and leaned forward to kiss Tom, a
kiss partially about comfort, partially about love. Tom pulled him
close, glad to feel Harry's solid body warm against his, glad beyond
measuring that he could feel anything besides the creeping cold he'd
felt as his life drained out of him.

As if he knew what Tom was thinking, Harry ran his fingers through
his hair and kissed him  harder,  kissed him with desire; when they
leaned back Tom had to only partially force his grin as he said,
"Well, everything has a silver lining; at least we have sex every
night."

"Oh, shut up," said Harry with a smile, looking nearly as happy and
young as he had ever used to be, and pulled Tom's head down to his
again. They lay down on their sides, caressing and kissing, willing
themselves to forget everything but each other; wrapping his arms
around him and threading his legs through his, Harry seemed to want to
tangle himself up completely in Tom, and Tom was certainly not going
to complain. He bit Harry's ear gently to make him smile, then kissed
his way across Harry's face to plant a kiss on the tip of his nose and
look at him.

"Tom?" said Harry, a question in his voice, and Tom smiled and shook
his head.

"I just want to look at you," he said, putting one hand on Harry's
cheek, and Harry smiled back. "I just..."

"I know." Harry turned his face into Tom's caress, kissing the heel of
his hand; Tom kissed his cheek and buried his face in his neck as he
gently rolled Harry beneath him, then started to kiss his way down his
lover's body. Harry reached for him, but Tom patted his hands down and
kissed them. "Just lie still and let me love you," he whispered, and
Harry relaxed with a sigh.

Traveling slowly, tracing his path with tension-banishing kisses, Tom
reached his goal and took Harry into his mouth, humming softly and
soothingly in the back of his throat. Right then, he wanted nothing
more than to make him feel better, for a few short hours at least so
Harry could sleep in nightmare-free peace. What they had been through
had been so hard on Harry....and Tom had always found comfort in
comforting someone else.  Harry put one hand in Tom's hair, not
pressing his head down--he would never do that--but just touching him,
as close as he could get to embracing him; feeling Harry's fingers in
his hair as he sucked on him, Tom had a momentary thought that they
were joined in a loop, before he dismissed it as excessively romantic
and moved down to suck Harry's balls into his mouth....

.....And would have smiled if he could, as Harry let go of Tom's hair
instantly, grabbing the sheets and moaning. _He always likes that_,
Tom thought, with a mental grin, but the smile vanished from his mind
when Harry gasped, "Stop, Tom. Please."

Tom sat up instantly; Harry's eyes were closed, his face flushed. "You
OK?" he asked, worry freezing the fire in his veins, forming a nucleus
of ice in his stomach. Harry caught his breath for a second longer, an
eternity of fear for Tom; then he opened those beautiful dark eyes and
smiled up at him, and Tom felt his heart all but melt.

"I'm OK," Harry said, reaching up to pull Tom down to himself and kiss
him deeply and warmly.

Relieved, Tom held him tightly and kissed him back with almost
bruising force for a moment, before he gained enough self-possession
to ease up a bit, but Harry smiled up at him when he let go, before
pulling him back down.

"I didn't mean to worry you," he whispered in Tom's ear. "I just...I
can't put my arms around you that way. I want to hold you as you make
love to me."

"Well, why didn't you say so?" said Tom with an impish grin. Harry
grinned back and kissed him once more. "Did we finish off the lube
yet?"

"No, here it is." Tom scooped out a fingerful while kissing Harry
again, closed the jar one-handed while not even looking at it, and
then slid one arm underneath Harry as he wrapped the other hand around
him. Harry wrapped both his arms around Tom, nestling his head in
under his lover's chin, and sighed again as Tom started stroking him,
his other hand flat against Harry's ribs, his arm under his back. Tom
turned his head to kiss his lover again, kissing him deeply as he
increased the pace and felt Harry moan into his mouth, tensing;
extending one finger he hooked it around his balls and smiled to
himself when Harry gasped, then clutched Tom tightly and kissed him
back a good deal harder than before.

Tom had thought to break the kiss and look down at Harry again, but
Harry slid the fingers of one hand into Tom's hair and held him,
kissing him hard and trembling, and didn't let go of him. Tom started
pulling faster on him and Harry moaned, his mouth moving under Tom's,
his hand tightening in his hair, and Tom heard himself moan back as
Harry dragged the tips of one hand's fingers across the sensitive skin
of his side and down to his hip. They stayed like that for awhile,
kissing each other till their lips were nearly sore, Harry clinging to
Tom and Tom holding him tightly as he stroked him, losing himself in
the kiss, in the rhythms of the stroking, of Harry's heartbeat, his
pulse.

Wrapped up in his friend, Harry started moaning continuously,
beginning to tremble, and Tom smiled in his mind, knowing just what to
do to make him come and immensely glad to be able to know. After only
a little while Harry shuddered and came, with a gasp that sounded
rather like a sob; but, then, it was hard to tell, as his cry was
muffled by Tom's kiss.

With one final kiss Harry let his head drop, and Tom relaxed his arm,
realizing how tightly he'd been embracing his friend. When he raised
his head to look at him Harry looked peaceful, beatific, but a tear
rolled out of the corner of one eye; Tom leaned over him to kiss it
away, and Harry smiled, eyes still closed. Tom smiled at that, feeling
warm and relieved, then sat up to find something to wipe his hand on;
when he returned with a cloth from the done-laundry pile Harry was
looking at him, just watching him quietly.

"What?" Tom asked, finding himself worrying again.

"Nothing," Harry said, and smiled wider, and Tom smiled back, but felt
himself force it, against a rapidly growing fear. _I keep worrying,
I'm still afraid... Oh, dammit!_ Tom thought with a burst of
annoyance, and threw the washcloth against the wall.

Harry was beside him in a heartbeat, hands an inch from his shoulders.
"Tom, what's wrong?"

"I don't...Oh, fuck it, I do know. Too well." Harry sighed in sympathy
and put his arm around his friend, laying his head on his shoulder. "I
felt this wave of fear..." Tom continued, putting his arm around
Harry. "Every time I'm not sure you're OK I get so afraid,
unreasonably afraid. I'm sick of it."

"I know," replied Harry. "We're both sick of being sick."  Then he
started to chuckle, and raised his head. Tom followed his gaze to see
that the washcloth had stuck to the wall, and started laughing, too.
"That is *truly* gross," he said, and got up to pull it off.

Harry met him at the refresher. "Let's take a shower."

"I thought you'd be sleepy!"

"We have four and a half hours before we have to get up. Let's take a
shower."

At least there was hot water this week. As soon as Harry got in he
wrapped his arms around Tom to kiss him again, and Tom laughed. "I
thought we were supposed to be showering!"

Harry's smile had a slightly mischievous tilt. "I didn't say anything
about getting *clean*," he said, and Tom smiled back and let himself
be kissed, wrapping his arms around Harry again. Harry gently pressed
him back against the wall, the hot water cascading over both their
bodies, and found Tom's nipple with one hand as he held him around his
waist with the other, pressing his thigh into Tom's groin until he
groaned with renewed arousal. Harry kissed his face, cheek, chin as
the hand at the nipple stroked its way down to encircle Tom's
erection, and kissed his way slowly down the length of Tom's torso
until he was kneeling before him, one arm embracing his hips.

"Harry," Tom moaned, wanting to tell him a thousand different things,
but only that one word, heavy with emotion, passed his lips. Pressing
his hands against the wall for support Tom looked down at Harry, who
had his face pressed into Tom's thigh as he murmured something like
"owe you"; then, before Tom could think to figure out what he'd said,
Harry raised his head to smile up at him, water running down over his
face and dripping off his nose.

"Tom," Harry said, so very softly, looking up at him as if he were the
best thing in the galaxy. "I love you."

"Oh, gods, Harry. I---" Tom's reply was choked off as Harry, his hand
still wrapped around Tom's penis, bent his head and mouthed his balls,
and it was all Tom could do to keep his knees from buckling. Harry
switched hand and mouth, and heat rushed up through Tom's veins as
warm water poured over him; he laid his head back against the shower
wall and trembled, caught between warmth and warmth, melting into
Harry's touch, his hold, held in his hands and mouth and love.

And, to both his and Harry's surprise, came right then and there.

"Whaoh," Tom murmured, slumping against the wall, and then realized
what he'd said was not words, as Harry made a face and quickly caught
some of the shower water with his hand to rinse his mouth with. "Uh,
ack," said Tom, fumbling towards coherency. "I'm sorry, Harry."

Harry unscrewed his face to smile as he turned back to Tom. "It's OK.
It surprised you, huh?" He smiled wider at Tom's sheepish nod, and
reached out to turn off the water, holding Tom around the waist with
the other arm. "That's what I thought. And let's get back into bed;
you're falling asleep on your feet."

"Oh, *now* we're going to sleep," drawled Tom, who did indeed feel
like falling over and sleeping on the bathroom floor. Harry laughed
and handed him a towel.

A few minutes later, back in bed, Tom pulled himself back from sleep
and rolled over to face Harry; there was one last thing he had to do.
"Harry?"

"Mmmph?"

"I love you, too, you know."

Harry opened his eyes. "You just couldn't go to sleep without telling
me." But he was beaming, despite his words.

"Varena---"

"Which one was that?"

"My third--taught me to never let any declaration of love go
unreciprocated."

Harry grinned at that. "Wise woman. And," he continued, reaching over
to stroke Tom's damp hair, "I know you love me. After seeing you
emerge from that....wolfpack to stand over me, I'll always know."

Tom smiled, and kissed the heel of Harry's hand, but something drew
his gaze, and when he looked at his lover again Harry looked troubled.
"Actually," Harry said, in a small voice, "I lied."

"About what?"

"You didn't *die*, in my dream....I....I killed you. Over and over.
And each time I was *so* sorry afterwards, I dropped the pipe and
tried  to hold you, but Zio dragged me away, and then it started
again...."

"Oh, Harry." Tom held out his arms, and, after a moment's guilty
pause, Harry snuggled into his embrace, tucking his head under Tom's
chin, shaking again. "Harry. You know what *I* see in my dreams? You
know what I'll always remember? Looking up at you with blurry eyes as
you stood over me saying 'this man is my friend; nobody touches him'.
That's what I remember. And you know that."

Harry nodded a little, the movement muffled by Tom's body. "OK. I
just..."

"Hey, Harry, I'm *not* dead. Because you saved me."

"OK." The reply was firmer this time, and happier; Tom squeezed Harry
tightly for a moment, and Harry returned the embrace with breathtaking
force, before they relaxed. "Now, c'mon", Tom continued hoping he
sounded soothing, "we need our sleep."

Harry opened his mouth to reply and yawned, and laughed sleepily.
"Yeah, I guess we do. And, Tom? Thanks."

"Hey, no problem." With Harry wrapped safely in his arms and pillowed
comfortably on his shoulder, Tom smiled himself, just a little, and
closed his eyes.

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The End