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Crash Landings
by Lianne Burwell
January 1999
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Tom cursed the console that had done its best to blow up in his face. 
Then he cursed the rest of the shuttle, just to be fair. He wouldn't be 
in this jam if he'd been flying the Delta Flyer, he was sure. He'd have 
to point that out to the Captain that when he got back to Voyager.

If he got back.

Tom sighed, then went back to trying to repair the control panel.

It was supposed to be an easy mission. Go check out an asteroid belt for 
usable materials, then report back. Very simple, right?

Wrong. After playing dodge'em with the asteroids, the last thing that 
he'd expected was for a wormhole to open up right in front of him, suck 
him up like some weird alien critter, then spit him out again.

A long, *long* way from home. So far away, either in space or time or 
both, that the computer couldn't figure out *where* he was.

Then he'd been fired on by some ship that didn't look like *anything* 
he'd ever seen before. Lucky for him he was a damn good pilot, and his 
shuttle (piece of crap that it was) was a lot faster than his attacker.

However, they'd gotten one lucky shot before he'd gotten away, and he'd 
ended up almost crash landing on this godforsaken desert planet. And if 
he didn't get the shuttle repaired, he wasn't going to be able to get 
back to where the wormhole had dropped him so that he could figure out 
how to get *home*.

Tom decided to practice his Klingon on the console. B'Elanna had been 
teaching him how to curse properly in her language. It didn't help the 
repairs, but it made *him* feel better.

"Hello?"

Tom sat up in surprise, then yelped as his head hit the underside of the 
console. He let loose another string of curses.

When the sparkles finally went away, he opened his eyes to find a kid 
standing at the shuttle door. Great. Now he had to deal with the natives.

Cute native, though. Couldn't be more than seventeen or eighteen if he 
was as human as he looked. Blond and dressed in virginal white. Looked 
kind of familiar, though.

"Sorry," the kid said. "I didn't mean to scare you."

Tom snorted. "You didn't scare me. Just startled me. What can I do for 
you, kid?"

"Well, I was checking one of the moisture collectors and saw you crash. I 
just wanted to see if you needed any help."

Moisture collector? Tom shook his head. If this planet was *all* desert, 
they'd need them.

"Nah," he said, picking up his tools. "I doubt you can help. But thanks 
for asking."

After tweaking a few connections he looked up to see that the kid was 
still there. He sat up again, a little more carefully this time, and 
waited for the kid to spit out whatever it was he wanted to say. He 
didn't have to wait long.

"Are you a pilot?" All eager like a puppy. Even Harry hadn't been this 
cute when they'd first met.

"Yep," Tom told him, justifiably proud. He was a *damn* good pilot.

"I'm going to be a pilot too," the kid said, finally coming inside the 
shuttle. "Are you an Imperial, or with the Rebellion?"

"Huh?" Tom frowned. This did not bode well.

"Or a smuggler!"

Tom shook his head. "I'm with an outfit called Starfleet. I got caught in 
a wormhole." He could see the kid didn't have a clue what he was talking 
about. "It's like a tunnel that zaps you from one place to another almost 
instantly. They're kind of unstable, always moving, so I gotta get back 
to it before it disappears. Anyway, I'm not from anywhere around here, so 
I don't know anything about Imperials or Rebellions."

He rubbed a hand on his uniform leg to clean it off and held it out to 
the kid. "I'm Tom Paris, by the way."

The kid shook his hand. "Luke Skywalker."

Tom lay back down to look at the underside of the console. Just a few 
more adjustments and he should be finished.

"So you're gonna be a pilot?" he asked, figuring that he might as well 
have company while he worked.

"Yeah," was the eager answer. Then the kid's face fell. "At least I will 
be if my uncle ever decides that I can finally go to the academy."

"He doesn't want you to be a pilot?" Luke shook his head.

"No. He says that's what got my father killed. I should stay here and be 
a moisture farmer, like him. It's *safer*." He said it like it was a 
dirty word. Tom could understand the feeling.

"I know what you mean," Tom said. "My dad's an admiral, and he wants me 
to be an admiral too. I just want to be a pilot. I'm *good* at it. If you 
want to be a pilot, don't let his expectations hold you back. You gotta 
be happy too."

The kid was staring at him with something like hero-worship in his eyes. 
Tom couldn't help blushing.

"Thanks," Luke said, then cocked his head to the side. "Was it difficult, 
not doing what he wanted?"

Tom stood and tapped on the console and it flared to life. "Yeah," he 
said, sadly. "He disowned me. Probably wouldn't mind if I were dead. But 
I'd still do it the same if I had it to do over again."

Arms came around him, hugging him tight. Tom twisted, and was surprised 
to see sympathy on the kid's face. Smiling, he hugged Luke back.

After a moment, Luke lifted his head to stare at Tom. Then he pushed up 
on his toes and kissed Tom.

"Uh, kid..."

Luke's expression went stubborn. "I'm not a kid."

"Luke, you shouldn't..."

"Why not? You said I should be happy, do what *I* want. I want *this* 
before you leave. I like you, Tom."

Common sense said this was a mistake, but the kid just held him tighter 
when he tried to move away. Luke moved against him, and Tom felt himself 
harden. His cock had never listened to common sense, anyway. Not to 
mention the fact that he hadn't gotten any since he'd gotten out of the 
brig after that disastrous... he cut *that* line of thought off.

Luke was kissing him again, and he couldn't help responding. Fingers were 
trying to undo his uniform, but were being frustrated by unfamiliar 
fasteners. Tom caught the roving hands and held them still while he 
looked into the kid's eyes.

He saw lust and determination there. Tom rolled his eyes and decided to 
give in to the inevitable. Surely he had time for a quickie.

He stepped back and started undoing his uniform. Looking up, he saw that 
Luke had already shucked his tunic and boots and was pulling off his 
leggings. He might be young, but the body hair said he was fully mature 
in physical terms at least.

Tom dropped his briefs on the pile of his clothes and promptly found 
himself with an armful of eager kid. And from the way that Luke was 
kissing and touching him, he certainly wasn't the blushing virgin that he 
looked like.

Tom carefully pulled Luke down onto the deck with him, not letting go. He 
rolled over so that he was on top, then pushed up.

"So what do you want here, Luke?"

The kid looked up at him, flushed and breathing heavily. "Suck me?"

Tom grinned. "Can do."

He kissed the kid, then started moving down. In deference to the eagerness 
of youth and the shortness of available time, he didn't delay as much as 
he would have liked along the way. Just a few nibbles at the collarbone 
and nipples, one dip of the tongue into a navel.

And then the cock. Flushed and dripping, rising up out of a nest of blond 
curls. Just as pretty as its owner.

Tom grinned again, then bent his head and did his best to blow Luke's 
mind. Gasps and groans, whimpers and cries all told him he was doing a 
pretty good job at it too.

Like kids his age everywhere, it didn't take long for Luke to explode, 
screaming Tom's name. Tom moved back up and kissed him deeply. Luke's 
tongue promptly plunged into Tom's mouth, searching for the taste of 
himself.

Then he pushed up, and Tom found himself flat on his back with Luke doing 
his best to map out every nerve ending with his mouth. Tom ran his fingers 
through the kid's blond hair, trying to urge him down to where he was 
needed the most. Luke didn't need much urging.

Definitely not a blushing virgin. He even knew a few tricks that Tom 
didn't, which he filed those away for future use.

Up and down, all around, Luke covered ever millimeter of flesh with 
saliva, then pulled back. Before Tom could protest, Luke straddled him 
and sat down on his erection.

Tom grabbed the slim hips and thrust up. Shit that was good. He'd been 
with B'Elanna for so long now that he'd forgotten how good it was to fuck 
another guy. Besides, there weren't many on Voyager who he'd consider 
*worth* fucking. Harry, if he were willing to risk their friendship. 
Chakotay, but the man was probably too hung up on chain of command. 
Tuvok, if there were room next to the pickle shoved up his ass. Ayala, if 
the Maquis didn't still hate his guts. Geron, if he were willing to be 
slaughtered by the rest of the crew for messing with the ship's baby.

Then Luke did an imaginative twist while simultaneously clenching his ass 
muscles, and all thoughts of other men went out the window. Tom shouted, 
and started thrusting up even harder and faster. Luke matched him stroke 
for stroke. Tom grabbed onto the renewed erection bobbing in front of him 
and started to milk it. After that, it didn't take long for matters to 
come to a mutually satisfying conclusion.

When his breathing had slowed to something closer to normal, Tom gave a 
sigh of regret.

"Luke?" he said, shaking the shoulder of the young man draped across his 
chest. "Luke, I really gotta go if I want to get home."

Luke moaned, then opened his eyes. "Right." He got up and started pulling 
his clothes back on. As he headed for the door, he stopped and turned 
around.

"Thanks for the advice," he said, then grinned. "And thanks for the rest 
of it, too."

Tom echoed the grin. "Believe me, it was my pleasure."

Luke looked up at the position of the sun. "Shit! I was supposed to be 
back more than an hour ago. Uncle Owen's gonna be furious!"

Tom's jaw hit his chest as the door closed behind Luke. A blond kid who 
wants to be a pilot even though his guardian, named Owen, wants him to 
follow in his footsteps? A few too many coincidences for comfort.

A minute later, he was lifting off. He could see Luke, waving from what 
looked for all the world like a floating car. Tom waved back, even though 
he knew that Luke couldn't see him.

He hoped that Luke would get his chance to be a pilot. Somehow, he had a 
feeling that the kid would be good at it. He was definitely not meant to 
be a farmer on this backwater planet for the rest of his life.

Tom grinned. He was rested, well-fucked and feeling great. Now all he had 
to do was dodge armed ships and asteroids back to the wormhole, figure 
out how to get it to open up again and get home in one piece.

Piece of cake.


THE END