by Aimee
---
RATING: NC-17 for sexual explicitness.
WARNING: This is a slash story. As such, it describes sex between two men
in great detail. If you are under the age of 18, then go away now; you
can't read this. If homosexuality offends or disturbs you, then you
should probably find something else to read.
DISCLAIMER: Tom, Harry, and the entire Delta quadrant belong to Paramount
and UPN, not to me. However, I do own the Luhn'tim, the Kralah, and
the text of this particular story.
OK! I finally finished my long (well, long for me, anyway) P/K story. Here
it is; I hope you enjoy it!
---
I have dreamed that your arms are lovely.
I have dreamed what a joy you'll be.
I have dreamed every word you'll whisper
When you're close, close to me.
How you look in the glow of evening I have dreamed, and enjoyed the view.
In these dreams I've loved you so
That by now I think I know
What it's like to be loved by you --
I will love being loved by you. --
Rodgers and Hammerstein, "I Have Dreamed,"
The King and I.
---
Harry and Chakotay were trapped by the encircling aliens. Well, I'm
trapped, anyway; Chakotay actually seems to be enjoying himself, Harry
mentally conceded. The planet was incredibly beautiful, the welcoming
reception lavishly sumptuous, and the Luhn'tim gracious and generous
hosts, but the conversation was deadly dull.
"So, hospitality is so important to your people because traveling is
sacred?" Chakotay was saying.
"Yesss ..." the alien dignitary answered reluctantly. He made a
small gesture, as if impatient with himself for not being able to explain
more clearly. "Journeying is sacred, not simple movement from one
place to another. Traveling with a purpose, seeking. . . questing. Such
travel broadens the mind and expands the soul."
"Like a pilgrimage," murmured Chakotay.
"Yes, precisely! Physical travel and spiritual travel combined into
one journey. This is also why dreams are so important to us, so highly
prized."
"Dreams?"
"Dreams. The spirit journeys even when the body is asleep. . ."
And on and on.
Harry tuned them out. He felt slightly guilty admitting it, but right now
all that interested him was the food and the change of scenery, not an
exchange of religious ideas. But not too guilty. Being stuck on a ship
with only intermittent and random chances for shore leave had taught him
to make the most of these moments of relaxation. Well, that and Tom's
sterling example. Besides, an alien religion wasn't nearly as
fascinating as the non-Neelix food! Harry cast about for some avenue of
escape.
Tom waved at him from across the pavilion. "Harry! Over here!"
Harry waved back and excused himself quickly and gracefully. Then he
hurried to join his friend.
---
Later that evening, Harry had eaten, drunk, and laughed himself almost
into a stupor. Oh, this was fun, he thought. He hadn't realized quite
how much he'd needed a break from the daily Voyager routine. He took
a deep breath of crisp, outdoors, planet-fresh air, and smiled widely. Tom
and B'Elanna looked like they'd had fun, too. They were smiling
and leaning in close to each other. Harry's own smile faded a little
as B'Elanna playfully hit Tom's arm and laughed.
They're. . . flirting! Harry thought incredulously. Jealousy descended
upon him so hard and fast that for a moment he literally couldn't see.
He couldn't stand the thought of anyone else touching that skin, those
lips, that golden hair. . . his thoughts trailed off in confusion.
Oh, he thought after a moment. Then, when did that happen?
He stared at Tom, eyes tracing the planes of his face, the lines of his
body. His hair shone burnished under the rays of this alien sun.
Harry's fingers twitched with an almost overpowering urge to brush
that hair out of those blue eyes, to twine themselves in those curls.
His thoughts were so focused on this astonishing new revelation that he
completely missed the announcement the Luhn'tim head of state and
their host this evening was making, the words "honored to perform
this ceremony with you" floating in one ear and right out the other.
His eyes were drawn to the ripple of muscle under his friend's uniform
as he shifted slightly in his seat.
A dreamy smile drifted across his face and his dark eyes unfocused
slightly as he pictured Tom sitting there without his uniform. Lost in a
haze of lasciviousness, he was just thinking I wonder what it would be
like when a burst of light suddenly surrounded him, caressed him, invaded
the very cells of his body. He was caught, shaken, dazzled by the
brilliance of the light. The light began to fade, and the world settled
itself into new patterns around him. Then the light left him completely,
taking his consciousness with it.
---
He opened his eyes slowly, and stared at the ceiling. And stared. He
vaguely felt that there was something he should be doing, but he
couldn't remember what it was. Get up? Yes, maybe that was it. He sat
up.
"Ah, Mr. Kim, you're awake." A voice spoke, dry and crisp.
Harry turned his head towards the source of the sound. That face. . . yes.
. . he knew that face. Somewhere from the depths of his brain a name
surfaced, and he spoke it.
"Doctor."
When it became apparent that Harry wasn't going to say anything else,
the Doctor continued. "Yes, I understand that you livened up the
festivities on the planet a bit. Gave the Captain quite a scare." He
paused. "How do you feel?"
Harry considered this. "I feel. . . good!" He sounded surprised.
"Rested. At peace."
"Yes, that's consistent with the effects the Luhn'tim
described to us."
"Oh." He looked around. Sickbay looked just as it usually did,
but he thought there was something missing. Something. . . someone? Not
Kes, someone else. He couldn't remember. He became aware that the
Doctor looked as if he expected Harry to say something. Obligingly, he
asked, "Effects?"
It seemed to satisfy him. "Yes. As I'm sure you remember, our
hosts on the planet were performing a religious ceremony to end the
reception with the proper blessings and solemnities. Apparently, it's
some sort of tradition. Well, the ceremony involves what they call the
Kralah. As they explained it to us, the Kralah is a moment of spiritual
transcendence and revelation. The participants in the ceremony meditate;
they focus their minds on one thought, and one thought alone, to the
exclusion of everything else. Then the person who has focused his thoughts
most successfully -- the Luhn'tim call this 'attaining the pure
soul and the single eye' -- is chosen. I'm not sure how they can
tell which person is the most focused or exactly how the rest of the
Kralah works because they refused to go into detail, despite the fact
that, as your doctor, I needed that information to treat any possible
complications, but never mind." The Doctor seemed rather miffed.
"Suffice it to say that this ritual builds up some sort of psychic
energy, which is then released into the mind of the chosen celebrant.
Which, in this case, was you, Mr. Kim."
"Me?" He was beginning to be able to think more clearly.
"But I didn't participate in this ritual."
"No, but you were evidently thinking very hard about something. So
hard, that you were concentrating solely on it, and were aware of nothing
else. In other words, you inadvertently attained the pure soul and single
eye. You were so focused that you were chosen instead of one of the
Luhn'tim monks. Congratulations. Apparently, it's quite an
honor."
"Thanks. When will I be able to leave sickbay?"
"Right away. You're in perfect health, Mr. Kim. The Kralah caused
you no physical harm whatsoever, and the only side effects the
Luhn'tim mentioned were a temporary sense of peace and well-being and
increased dream activity in the following weeks. You won't be able to
remember what you were thinking about when you were chosen, so don't
try. It will come back to you in the dreams. So be prepared for more vivid
dreams than usual, but other than that you should have nothing to worry
about. You can resume your duties immediately."
"Thank you, Doctor." Harry stood and started to make his way
back to his quarters.
---
The turbolift doors whooshed open. Tom Paris shot out of the lift so fast
he almost ran Harry over. "Harry!" Off-balance, Tom grabbed
Harry's arms to steady himself. Harry, startled, drew a deep breath.
The touch of those hands on his arms, the feel of that body against his,
the scent filling his nostrils, making him dizzy. . . Harry's hands
moved forward of their own volition, heading for Tom's waist. But,
just then, Tom found his balance and moved away from him. Harry's
hands hovered in the air a moment, then dropped to his side.
Tom said, "Harry, I was just going to sickbay to see you. I heard you
were awake. Are you OK?"
Harry nodded. "I'm fine, Tom. The Doctor says I'm in perfect
health."
Tom let out a breath -- almost a sigh. "Good." He sounded
extremely relieved. "I was really worried about you, Har. The way you
just collapsed like that. . . you really scared me."
For just a moment, Tom's eyes were unguarded, naked of their usual
flippant mask. Harry looked into them, and was lost momentarily in their
blue depths, unable to read the expression he saw there. "I'm
fine," he repeated, and moved a step closer to him.
Then the moment was over and the mask snapped firmly back into place.
"Yeah, well. Just don't let it happen again," Tom said,
smiling, then slapped Harry on the back. "C'mon. Let's go to
Sandrine's. I'll buy you a drink and you can tell me all about
this Kralah thing. Man, you should have seen the Captain's face when
the Luhn'tim tried to explain what happened to you. Was she ever
pissed! She said. . ."
They walked down the corridor together, and Harry realized that the sense
of something missing that had plagued him since he woke up was finally
gone. As he listened to his cheerful babble, Tom threw a casual, friendly
arm across his shoulders. It burned liked a brand.
---
That night, Harry dreamed. He was sitting next to Tom on a picnic blanket,
enjoying the sight of the sun setting over the ocean. The water was a
clear, beautiful blue, like Tom's eyes, and the sky was deep and
lovely. The sun sent streaks of burning, vibrant pinks and reds streaming
over the horizon.
Tom wrapped his arm around him. Harry sighed, and rested his head on
Tom's shoulder. Tom turned his head slightly and brushed a kiss, soft
and sweet, across Harry's temple.
Harry murmured, "Love you," and sank peacefully into a deeper,
dreamless sleep.
---
He ran into Tom in the turbolift on the way to the bridge the next
morning. "Good morning, Harry. Sleep well?"
Harry shot him a furtive, sideways glance. "Uh, fine. Why do you
ask?"
Tom looked surprised. "No reason. I was just being friendly. You
know. 'Good morning, how are you, did you sleep well last
night?'"
Harry sighed, smiled, and gave a little, rueful laugh. "Sorry, Tom. I
had a weird dream last night. You just reminded me of it, that's all.
Hey, are we still on for lunch this afternoon?"
Tom cocked his head and studied him. Harry felt himself flushing.
"What?" he asked. Tom opened his mouth to say something, but
just then the lift came to a stop and the doors slid open. Saved by the
bell, Harry thought. As they walked onto the bridge together, Tom shook
his head and said, "Nothing. See you at lunch."
---
ONE MONTH LATER
Eyes dark with arousal, Tom lowered his head and kissed Harry deeply, his
tongue caressing the inside of Harry's mouth. Harry moaned. He slid
his hands up the sweat-slick, naked expanse of Tom's beautiful back,
stroked the nape of his strong neck, and then slipped his fingers into
those golden curls. Tom pulled back slightly for air, then kissed Harry
again, but lightly, teasingly this time. He ran his tongue over
Harry's lower lip, then licked his own. "Mmm, you taste
good."
He did it again, then pulled Harry's lip into his mouth and began to
suck. Harry's grip on Tom's hair tightened convulsively. Tom
released his lip and kissed his cheek, his chin, little darting kisses all
over his face, and then settled on a place just below Harry's ear. He
nipped it softly, then drew the delicate skin into the warm cavern of his
mouth. Harry writhed. Just when he thought he would go crazy from the
sucking pressure, Tom added his tongue, licking Harry's neck.
He gasped, and jerked his hips forward, rubbing his erection along the
hot, velvety-steel length of his lover's. Tom groaned. Harry did it
again. Another groan. He moved his hand from Tom's head to his chest
and did it a third time while gently pinching Tom's nipple. A sobbing
gasp that sounded vaguely like "Harry!"
"Tom!" Harry said breathlessly. "Tom, please!" Tom
moaned assent and stopped his teasing torture of Harry's neck. He
planted a quick, hard kiss on Harry's lips, and moved his mouth to the
place Harry wanted it the most. Harry shouted as Tom's wet, hot mouth
completely engulfed his aching penis, then moaned as Tom sucked him down
his throat. He tried to hold still, but, oh!, it felt so good, and his
hips began to buck, and so hot, so slick, so good, and then to thrust, and
so perfect, Tom, you're perfect, I love you, love you, love. . .
Harry exploded, and woke up.
---
He smiled at the ceiling in delight and satisfaction, the smile of a man
who had just been thoroughly made love to by one whom he loved. Your turn,
Tom, he thought, and reached out to embrace his lover. But his questing
hand met only empty bedclothes. Startled, he sat up and looked around.
"Computer, lights." What. . . ? Not only was Tom not there, but
there was also no sign that he had ever been there. Harry suddenly felt a
little dizzy.
He shuddered as realization hit. What was I thinking? Tom and I aren't
lovers. It was just another dream. A single tear slid, unnoticed, down his
cheek. But it was so real ...
Every night for a month -- ever since he accidentally involved himself in
that alien religious ceremony -- he had dreamed of Tom. Specifically, he
had dreamed of making love to Tom. Making wonderful, passionate, glorious
love. And, as the Doctor had promised, the dreams were vivid. Very vivid.
They felt real to him, when most of his dreams felt surreal and
transitory, even while he was dreaming them. But this is the first time I
ever woke up convinced that the dreams really were real. That can't be
a good sign. Something must be wrong with me. I should go to sickbay. But
that would mean explaining to the Doctor exactly what his dreams had been
about, and he did not want to do that.
He felt himself blush at the mere thought. These dreams were much too
private, too intimate, too precious and delicate to expose to the harsh
light of scientific inquiry. I'll wait until tomorrow. It's not
that urgent. The Doctor did say I'd have vivid dreams, after all.
Besides, maybe they'll go away by themselves. Slowly, he talked
himself out of it, rationalizing his problem away. Turning out the lights,
he lay down and went back to sleep.
But they didn't go away.
---
"Ensign Kim, I gave you an order." The Captain was frowning at
him. Harry snapped to attention, dragging his eyes away from the turbolift
doors, where Tom had just exited. "Yes, Ma'am, scanning the
M-class planet now."
Captain Janeway glanced toward the lift, then back at Harry. "May I
see you in my ready room a moment, Ensign?"
Harry's heart sank. "Yes, Ma'am."
Once safely in her office, Janeway gestured to a chair. "Have a seat,
Mr. Kim."
Harry sat.
"I've noticed you've been unusually. . . distracted, lately.
You've obviously had something on your mind, and it's affecting
your job performance. Would you like to talk about it?"
He looked away. "It's personal, Captain."
Katherine said gently, "When you bring it onto the bridge with you,
it stops being personal."
Harry flushed, but said nothing.
"All right, Harry. I won't force you to talk to me. But I do
think. . ." She hesitated, then continued, her meaning plain in her
voice. "I think you should talk to Tom."
Harry stared at her in shock. Her eyes were sympathetic. He swallowed,
then said faintly, "Yes, ma'am."
---
The next morning, Tom woke Harry with a kiss. Harry opened his eyes.
"Well, hello," he said.
Tom smiled. "Good morning, sleepyhead. I knew that would get you, er,
'up.'"
Harry laughed and wrapped his arms around Tom's neck. "I'm
still a little sleepy. Maybe you'd better wake me up some more."
"Maybe I'd better," Tom murmured and lowered his lips to
Harry's.
The kiss was long and sweet and lazy, an exploration and celebration.
Harry smiled against Tom's lips. "You're really very good at
that, you know." Tom laughed and did it again, doing his best to kiss
Harry speechless.
He succeeded.
Breathless, Harry pulled back and began to kiss his way down Tom's
body. He kissed Tom's chin, licked his throat, nipped his shoulder,
and nibbled his chest, pausing when he reached the nipple. He glanced up
at Tom. He was breathing heavily, eyes half-closed, hands fisted at his
sides, waiting. Harry smiled, and slowly drew his tongue in a circle
around the dusky aureole, finger mimicking the action on the other side.
He did it again, slightly faster. Then again, and again, speeding up each
time. Then, unexpectedly, Harry wrapped his lips around Tom's nipple
and sucked hard, flicking it with his tongue. At the same time, he grasped
the sensitized bud of the other nipple and squeezed.
Tom moaned, and gasped, and shivered in delight. He slid his hands over
the soft skin of Harry's back, enjoying the satiny texture. He traced
the length of Harry's spine, caressing each vertebra, until his hands
came to rest in the small of Harry's back. Harry's mouth and
tongue paused mid-movement. Tom lightly bit Harry's shoulder and
slowly pushed one finger into the cleft of Harry's ass. Harry sucked
his breath in sharply. Tom moved his finger in and out of that tight
opening in a thrusting motion. Harry squirmed. When the muscle had
loosened slightly, Tom added a second finger. Harry moaned. Loudly.
"Oh, yes, Tom, that's so good." Then Tom's probing
fingers found Harry's prostate. He stroked it, causing Harry to sob
aloud. A third finger joined the other two. When Harry found his voice, he
shouted, "Now, Tom, please! I can't wait much longer!"
Tom kissed him briefly in agreement and fumblingly reached for the
lubricant. Harry took it away from him, saying, "No. Let me." He
squirted some of the cool gel into his palm and lovingly rubbed it onto
Tom's straining cock, caressing and teasing as he worked.
Harry turned over and rose to his hands and knees. Tom positioned himself
behind him and paused, hovering there. Harry groaned. "Now, Tom.
Hurry!" Tom entered him with one swift thrust. Harry shuddered in
pleasure. "Ohhhh, yes, Tom, that it."
Tom withdrew slightly and surged forward again, Harry bucking back to meet
him. They settled quickly into a rhythm, partners in a dance as old as the
stars themselves. Tom reached around their joined bodies with one hand,
took Harry's cock in a firm grasp, and added the pumping of his hand
to their dance.
Harry gasped and trembled. Pleasure rose in him in wave after wave,
surrounding him, overwhelming him until he couldn't see, couldn't
hear, could only feel, and then he was flying, soaring, and Tom was with
him too, both of them screaming in ecstasy.
When Harry came back to himself, he was lying face-down in bed, wrapped in
sweat and semen-soaked sheets. He smiled, and turned to look at Tom.
But he only saw an empty pillow.
---
Harry stumbled, rumpled and wild-eyed, around the corner, consumed by one
thought. I have to tell him. "Computer, location of Lieutenant
Paris," he asked yet again, as if Tom would have moved in past five
minutes. "Lieutenant Paris is in the mess hall," the computer
replied patiently.
This is torture. I can't live like this anymore. Even if he
doesn't love me back, maybe telling him will make the dreams stop. I
can't stand having him treat me like a friend when I know exactly how
wonderful it would be to be his lover. The Captain's right; I have to
tell him.
He entered the mess hall almost without realizing it, and quickly scanned
the tables for Tom. And found him sitting between B'Elanna and
Chakotay. B'Elanna, looking tired but excited, was talking
passionately about some new project she had going on in Engineering. Harry
started toward them.
Chakotay was frowning in concern. "I'm sure this new project is
as useful as you say it is, but, B'Elanna, I worry about you. How late
were you in Engineering last night? You spend so much time working;
it's not good to push yourself so hard."
B'Elanna's jaw tightened dangerously. Before she could explode,
Tom said, "Aww, you know B'Ela. She has the stamina of ten
women." And he leered at her.
Harry stopped in his tracks.
B'Elanna snorted. "Just because you're all talk and no action
doesn't mean we all are, Paris."
Tom started to retort, but, before he said anything, he noticed Harry
standing there. He brightened. "Harry! Come join us!"
Harry started. "Uhh, sorry, I was just leaving." He turned and
hurried out the door.
"But, Harry, you haven't eaten yet," B'Elanna said,
confused, to his retreating back. A hurt and bewildered expression slid
quickly across Tom's face and was gone, lingering only in his eyes.
---
Weeks passed, and Harry continued to dream. Duty shifts were torture now;
standing at Ops, the conn was directly in his line of sight. Keeping the
Captain's gentle reprimand in mind, he somehow managed to keep his
growing distraction and absentmindedness from being quite so obvious while
he was on duty; nevertheless, he found himself staring at the back of
Tom's head time and again, remembering his dreams. He grew to hate
Starfleet uniforms -- the damn things were so tight that rampant erections
(such as the one Harry often sported these days) were painfully obvious.
When he was off-duty, he alternated between hanging out with Tom just as
he used to, only touching him much more frequently (small, casual touches
-- a pat on the back, an arm across the shoulders, a brush on the
turbolift or in the corridor -- that lingered much longer than was
strictly necessary) and avoiding him altogether.
Tom was starting to give Harry odd, confused glances when he thought he
wasn't looking. But Harry was always looking. He watched Tom
constantly; he couldn't seem to help himself. Even when he tried to
avoid Tom, he found himself following him, spying on him.
One night, he found himself going to bed early, eagerly hunting out his
phantom lover, about to explode from unrequited love (and lust). If I
can't have him in reality, at least I can have him in my dreams.
Sometimes Harry would pause and realize how peculiarly he was behaving --
That's it, he would think, I've gone crazy, or, Harry, stop
stalking Tom and go see the Doctor! You need professional help -- but most
of the time he didn't think about it.
And he didn't talk to Tom about it either.
He almost did, once. Tom knew something was bothering his friend -- it was
rather hard to miss -- and he tried to ask Harry about it. He was alone
with Harry in his quarters, listening to him practice his clarinet. When
Harry, distracted by having Tom's undivided attention, flubbed a
simple passage for the third time in a row, Tom leaned forward and put a
hand on his thigh. "Harry."
The music faltered to a stop. Harry said nothing. "Please,
Harry," continued Tom, "tell me what's wrong."
"Nothing's wrong, Tom, I'm just rusty. I've been too
busy to practice recently -- "
"I'm not talking about your clarinet. I'm talking about the
way you've been acting around me lately. Have I. . . I don't know,
have I done something to offend you?"
"No!" Harry cried, horrified. "You mustn't think that.
I'm not offended by you, I'm. . ."
There was a pause.
"What?" Tom asked softly.
"I'm. . ."
"Harry, please tell me. You're practically the only friend I have
on Voyager, besides B'Elanna. Sometimes I think your friendship is the
only thing that keeps me going out here. Keeps me sane. I'd hate to
lose it."
Harry looked into those pleading, worried eyes and thought, Yes.
B'Elanna. His gut twisted. "I'm sorry, Tom. I didn't
realize I was taking it out on you. I've just been tired lately."
At Tom's unconvinced look, he added, "Well. . . homesick. You
see, Libby. . ." he trailed off, unable to come up with a convincing
excuse.
Despite Harry's transparent fabrication, Tom looked enlightened.
"That's right, your anniversary would have been last week,
wouldn't it. No wonder you've been in such a crummy mood. I
forgot; I'm sorry."
Harry had forgotten, too.
---
Things might have gone on like this indefinitely if fate, in the guise of
a food-gathering mission to an uninhabited planet, hadn't intervened.
Tricorder in hand, Harry called out, "Tom! Over here! I think
I've found something."
Leaving the rest of his team behind, Tom joined Harry by the bank of the
river. "Look." Harry pointed to the water. Tom squinted against
the sun and shielded his eyes with his hand as he peered into the briskly
flowing river. He didn't see anything at first, but eventually he was
able to make out dark shadows darting to-and-fro against the deep blue
backdrop of the water. "Fish!" he cried delightedly. "And
they're edible?" he asked, dropping his hand. He turned to face
Harry, eyes shining with excitement. "Finally, a reprieve from leola
root stew and hair pasta!"
Harry swallowed, hard. The sun shone in Tom's hair like fire, and he
had last seen that happy, mischievous look in Tom's eyes during a
particularly memorable dream. Is it just me, or is it really hot in here?
Harry thought dizzily. His hand reached out of its own accord. Tenderly,
he caressed Tom's face, then brushed his thumb over his lips. Tom
made a small, surprised, choking sound. Harry came back to himself with an
almost audible snap and quickly dropped his hand.
"Yeah," he said inanely. He began backing away from his
too-tempting friend. "Um. . . I'll go tell the others. We can get
some fishing equipment and come back here." He turned and fled. Tom
followed slowly, eyes narrowed in speculation.
---
The next day, Tom cornered Harry in the mess hall. "Harry, do you
have any plans for this evening?"
Harry avoided Tom's eyes. "Um, I'm not sure," he said
to his breakfast. "That is. . . I think so --"
"Good," Tom continued over Harry's embarrassed
mumblings. "I've got this great new holoprogram to try out. Meet
me in holodeck 2 at 1900 hours."
"Tom, I don't think I can make it --"
"Yes, you can. 1900 hours. See you then!" Whistling jauntily, he
strode out of the room.
Harry sighed. Well, he supposed he couldn't avoid Tom forever, but a
few days might be nice. Might as well just bite the bullet and get it over
with. Tom obviously isn't going to let this go.
"All right. See you then," he whispered to himself.
---
Harry stood outside the door to the holodeck, gathering his courage.
According to the computer, Tom was already inside and the program was up
and running. I can't stay out here in the hall forever. Just go in
already. He took a deep breath and entered the holodeck.
He took a few steps inside and stopped in surprise. He knew this place. A
blanket lay on a sandy beach, a picnic basket and champagne bottle off to
one side. The water was a clear, beautiful blue (like Tom's eyes, he
thought) and the sky was deep and lovely. The sun was setting, sending
burning, vibrant pinks and reds streaming over the horizon.
He had seen this place in his dreams.
"Hello, Harry." A voice came from one side. "I'm glad
you're here."
Harry turned to face him, eyes wide with love and wonder. "Tom. . .
this place. . . how did you know?"
Tom smiled shyly. "Do you like it? I programmed it for you."
Harry didn't know whether to laugh or cry. "Like it? Oh, Tom. . .
it's wonderful. I love it!"
"Good," Tom said, looking happy and relieved.
"Good."
They settled companionably onto the blanket together and watched the sun
set in silence for a moment.
Tom took a deep breath. "Harry, there's something I have to tell
you. I don't quite know how to say it, so I'm just going to come
right out with it. I love you, Harry." Harry made a small,
involuntary sound, halfway between a choke and a sob. Tom gave him a
worried glance, and hurried on, "I have for a long time. Almost from
the first moment we met. But I knew I could never have you, so I swore I
would never tell you. You were in love with Libby for so long. . . But
yesterday, by the river, when you touched my face like that, I
thought. . ." He trailed off. "Don't just sit there, Harry, say
something. Anything!"
Harry felt as if the world had just shifted 180 degrees around him. He sat
for a moment, absorbing this new information. He felt himself begin to
smile. He opened his mouth to say something, as requested, but all that
came out was an amused chuckle. A stunned and confused expression crept
across Tom's face -- whatever reaction he had been expecting, it was
most definitely not this. Harry began to laugh in earnest.
When he calmed down, he said, "Oh, Tom. What a pair we are.
Both of us in love with the other and too jealous and scared to say
anything." He wiped a tear from the corner of his eye.
Tom's eyes lit. "You love me?"
Harry nodded.
"Say it! Please, I need to hear you say it," Tom begged.
"I love you, Tom Paris. Now and forever." And to prove it, Harry
leaned forward and captured Tom's mouth in a tender, caressing kiss.
It was even better than he had dreamed.
---
End
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