by Merri Todd Webster

A little introductory vamp: Paramount owns all. I am so lowly their lawyers won't even notice me without a microscope. World without end, amen.

This is a cheerfully plotless sequel to "I Sat Down Under His Shadow." It is an excuse for two men to have sex--explicitly described, so you have been warned--while listening to music, or to listen to music while having sex. Let those who have problems with m/m sex, erotica, slash, or folk music depart from hence.

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"Hey, Harry, you don't mind if we have some music playing, do you?"

Harry smiled fondly. "Of course not. Pick whatever you want, I've got to visit the bathroom for a while."

After a thorough shower, Harry returned to the bedroom, leaving his clothes in the fresher. Tom was lying on his stomach on the bed, naked, looking out the port at a nebula that was unexpectedly visible. Harry was so startled by the music that was playing that he missed admiring either the nebula or Tom's perfectly rounded ass. "That's Siobhan ni Riain you're listening to.

Tom turned to look at him, grinning. "Got it in one, Har. Didn't know you knew folk music."

Harry smiled--rather smugly, Tom thought. "I did go to Juilliard. And I don't just know folk music. I know Siobhan."

Tom rolled over. "You're kidding."

"No way."

"How?"

The smug smile widened. "We were lovers for a while when I was at Juilliard."

Tom's mouth fell open. "Now I know you're kidding."

"I told you, no way."

"You had sex with Siobhan ni Riain, the most beautiful redhead ever born on Earth?"

"Yes."

"While you were at Juilliard?"

"Mmm-hmh."

"You were just a teenager, and she had to be, what, ten years older than you?"

"I guess so." Harry smiled even more smugly, which Tom hadn't thought possible. " I think that put both of us at our sexual peak."

"So tell me about it." Tom patted the bed invitingly. Harry came and stretched out beside him.

"You want all the details?"

"Of course. Spare me nothing. I want to know how you met, what you did the first time, how long the relationship lasted."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Tom Paris, you're a pervert."

"Yes, and you love it, sweetheart. Now start talking."

Harry propped up the pillows so he could lie back without completely lying down. Tom settled on one elbow next to him, eyes on Harry's face. "Computer, reduce music volume 15 decibels. --I can't believe you picked one of her albums to play while we made love. Listening to my first lover sing while making it with, hopefully, my last lover is almost too weird."

"Harry, I don't care. Her voice just about makes me come in my pants."

"Uh, Tom, you aren't wearing any pants."

"A minor quibble." Tom patted Harry's thigh. "Now get on with it."

Harry folded his hands over his stomach and let the music wash over him. A pure, wild, crystalline soprano was singing "The Foggy Dew," accompanied only by an ominous-sounding drone from the uillean pipes. Her brogue was astonishingly rich and thick, as though she'd just stepped out of the bog.

"I was taking this music history course that required me to attend three lectures of my choice outside the classroom. I went to a lecture-demonstration on similarities between classical Indian music and traditional Irish music. There were musicians, dancers, and singers from both traditions, but Siobhan was the main lecturer. I just couldn't take my eyes off her. She was like a living flame--not just because of her hair but because she radiated so much warmth and energy.

"After the lecture, she took questions. I asked a few that I guess were reasonably intelligent. At least, they got fairly complicated answers. I was on my way out of the auditorium when she came up behind me and put her hand on my shoulder. She asked if I wanted some more information on one of the topics I'd questioned her about."

"I'll bet you did."

"Be quiet, Paris. Anyway, I managed to say yes. Siobhan took me by the hand and led me off to this coffeeshop. She ordered latte and pastries and started telling me about Indo-European migrations and ethnomusicology."

"Fascinating."

"Shut up, Tom. I was eating it up. I guess I would have listened to her talk about anything, just to hear her voice and her accent." Both men sighed a little. "Then, she started asking questions about my studies and my family and all that sort of thing." Harry grinned, remembering. "If you think I was reserved when we met, you should have seen me back then. Yet she was able to draw me out and get me talking. I felt more comfortable around her than I'd ever felt about someone outside my family. And she told me about herself, how she'd become interested in traditional music and the Indian-Irish connection. I had a really good time."

"So then what happened?"

Harry thought back. "The Foggy Dew" had been succeeded by a Gaelic lullaby. "The next thing I knew, we were walking through this park, arm in arm. Siobhan must have paid for the coffee and pastries. She was telling me some funny story about her eccentric aunt Maureen when suddenly she stopped. Just stopped talking and stood still, so I stopped, too. We were standing under this big oak tree, with a really broad crown. And she put her arms around my neck and kissed me."

"Like this?" Tom's mouth came down on Harry's, soft and sensuous, his arms twining around Harry's neck, the tip of his tongue teasing Harry's lips. Harry groaned, opening his mouth to the kiss and his senses to the pleasure of their tongues twisting together until he couldn't tell whose was whose.

"Not exactly," he said, when he was able to speak again. "For one thing, she was a woman. For another, we were standing up. And for a third thing, she kissed me. I didn't really kiss back."

"You've certainly gotten over that inhibition." Tom dropped back onto the bed, grinning with delight.

"Siobhan asked me if I wanted to come back to her hotel room. I was pretty sure that I knew what she wanted, and I knew my parents wouldn't really approve, but how could I have said no?"

"How could any living being say no? But how did you feel? Were you scared?"

"No, I wasn't. I was also sure that she knew I was a virgin and that she wasn't expecting me to be a stud. From the way she'd just kissed me, I figured she'd take care of everything. And she did."

Tom scooted over to put his head on Harry's shoulder. Harry got his arm comfortably around his lover and paused while, on the recording, the woman he was remembering began to sing "The Lowlands of Holland."

"We went back to her hotel--it was an expensive one--and into the bedroom." Harry smiled. "Siobhan lit candles and incense around the room and put on music."

"So that's where you got the habit."

Harry pinched Tom, gently. "She sat me down on the foot of the bed and started stroking my hair, messing it up."

Tom chuckled. "Smart woman." He reached up and tugged at Harry's forelock.

"She kissed me again and started undressing me while we were still kissing. Pretty soon I was undressing her, too, and clothes were going everywhere."

"What did she look like, naked?"

Harry mused. "Like a wild roan mare. Tall and long-legged and so graceful. With white, white skin and little patches of freckles. She was like a wild deer that somehow isn't afraid of you. Her hair was down to her ass."

"Beautiful," Tom murmured, stroking his lover's chest.

"When we were both naked, Siobhan got up and just stood there, letting me look at her. Proud. And she looked at me, too, and I could tell she liked what she saw."

"I always have." Tom's hand brushed over Harry's groin. "So what happened then?"

"We lay down on the bed, and she just draped herself over me and jerked me off, first thing."

Tom's hand closed around Harry's cock, right on cue. Harry arched into the other man's grasp, gasping with surprise. <On second thought, I probably shouldn't be surprised; we did come back here to make love.> That knowing touch on his flesh drove every other thought from Harry's mind; he gazed into burning blue eyes, letting Tom see the helpless wildness growing within him, until it spilled in liquid fire over Tom's hand and his own belly.

Harry lay still, breathing deeply, while Tom gently towelled him off. It was Tom's turn for a smug smile. "So what did you do after that?" Tom asked, letting the towel drop to the floor. It took a few minutes for Harry to be able to respond.

"Pretty much everything," Harry managed at last, prying his eyelids up. Tom was smiling ingenuously, his erection neatly pressed to Harry's thigh. "Well, let's see. After I recovered a little, Siobhan started kissing me." He was more pleased than surprised, this time, when Tom shifted position to lean over him, waiting expectantly on his next words. "First, she kissed my lips again. . ."

Harry was not disappointed. Tom treated him to a lingering kiss, as gentle and considerate as if it were their first time. Harry sighed happily and went on, "Then, she moved on to my cheek, and my jaw, and my neck. Very slowly and gently." Tom's lips trailed across his cheek, slowly and gently, paused to nibble at his ear. Harry forbore to mention that Siobhan hadn't gotten to his ears till later. "I could smell her fragrance, not perfume, just her. Better than the incense." He breathed in Tom's musky scent contentedly.

Tom licked his way patiently down Harry's warm solid throat, feeling his lover arch with pleasure. Harry whimpered softly when Tom lifted his head. "And then what, Harry?" he prompted.

"Oh--she started kissing my shoulders. And using her teeth a little." Tom complied, testing Harry's firm musculature with tiny bites. "Oh, yes, like that--and down onto my nipples. . ."

"Are you sure that's what Siobhan did?" Before Harry could answer, Tom flicked his tongue over one dark bud, and Harry's retort was lost in a moan. <Nipples are such fun,> Tom thought. <I could play with Harry's all day. . .>

"I didn't know--oh! I didn't know my nipples were so sensitive. Before Siobhan." Harry squirmed delightedly.

"I'm glad you found out early in life," Tom said, and captured both nipples with fingers and mouth.

Harry moaned in his throat, remembering he had reacted much the same way the very first time. He was glad Tom had discovered how much he enjoyed this kind of attention. Tom seemed to enjoy giving it as much as he enjoyed getting it. "Oh, that's so good, love. Oh, yes--unh, I love it when you suck on them like that--"

Before Harry could get his hands in Tom's hair and keep him where he was, Tom drew back. Harry whimpered again. "Tom. . ."

"I just want to be sure what happens after this."

Harry's pleading expression changed to a wicked grin. "Oh, yeah. Well, after a little while, Siobhan lay back and invited me to do the same for her."

In a moment Tom was flat on his back, Harry's weight holding him down. He didn't complain as Harry kissed him with devastating thoroughness, reminding Tom that Harry was definitely not a beginner any more. Tom was soon squirming even more than Harry had been as Harry's mouth teased his ear and set the nerves in his neck on fire. "Oh, baby. You are so good at this. Oh, please. . ."

"She had really gorgeous breasts," Harry breathed against Tom's shoulder.

"Who? I mean, really? Gods--"

Tom's nipples were not quite as sensitive as Harry's, but he was beginning to think they were getting there, thanks to Harry's training. Harry went from one to the other, licking and sucking, until Tom couldn't predict where he'd feel that hot tongue next. Tom groaned in frustration when Harry finally drew away, with a last careful pinch on one pink nub.

Harry lay down again, arms behind his head, and spread his legs a little. "After that, Siobhan wanted me to eat her." With an effort, Tom rolled over to lean on Harry. "Were you okay with that?"

"Sure. I'd heard about oral sex, of course. I couldn't see why some people didn't want to do it, or why some guys I knew thought cocksucking was fine but eating pussy was disgusting." Harry shrugged. "When she opened her thighs to me, let me tell you, the smell of her arousal overrode any objections I might have had."

"Hmmm. I know what you mean." Tom settled between Harry's thighs, kissing the impossibly soft skin there. "You smell pretty good yourself, lover. . ." He began licking Harry's lightly furred balls.

Harry found himself moaning again, trying to remember the story he was supposedly telling. "I had never seen a woman's sex before, mmm, not right in front of my face--ah, yes, Tom, oh yes--and wet and open with arousal. She was beautiful, just beautiful. Like a work of art. And she smelled so good. . ."

He gave up, surrendering to sensation. The very first time they'd been together, Tom had done this, first thing, and he seemed just as eager to taste Harry now as he had then. He licked Harry thoroughly, from the hollow behind his balls to the moist tip of his cock, and back again, before taking the whole length in his mouth. Harry moaned urgently as Tom went down on him, three or four strokes, before moving away yet again and asking that question.

"So then what happened, Harry?"

Harry took a deep breath and struggled to remember. "Well, Siobhan came a lot while I ate her--"

"I like that in a woman," Tom remarked, flicking Harry with his tongue.

"Ohh! Yeah, and I envy it, too. And I used my fingers on her, on her clit, and then inside her. . ."

Harry trailed off, looking expectantly at his lover. In the pause, he noticed a martial-sounding Gaelic song coming from the speakers. Tom was still lying between his legs, head and arm pillowed on Harry's thigh. He was grinning wickedly. "What are you waiting for, lover? Aren't you going to finish the story?"

Harry licked his lips. "Umm, aren't you going to do to me what I told you I did to her?" He mentally reviewed that sentence's structure for logic before going on. "Like before?"

Tom pretended to consider this. "Well, Harry, in case you haven't noticed, you're not a woman. You don't have those parts you mentioned. So what do you want me to do?"

<Wicked, wicked man. You just have to make me ask, don't you? When I know you want it as much as I do?> "Well, you could stroke my cock.Same thing as a clit, right? Physiologically speaking." He stroked Tom's hair. "And you could fuck me."

Tom slithered up until he was leaning on Harry, their faces so close together Harry could barely focus. All he saw was a blur of blue eyes as Tom whispered, "And where do you suggest I fuck you, Harry?"

Again Harry licked his lips, deliberately. "Why don't you fuck me in the ass, lover?"

Tom dropped his head onto Harry's chest and groaned passionately, unable to keep up his teasing posture. He kissed Harry smotheringly hard and then gasped out, "Just remember you asked for this, sweetheart."

Tom moved to the edge of the bed long enough to grab the lubricant and the towel. He put a dab of the goop in his hand and then took hold of the hot, slick organ he had recently had in his mouth, stroking lovingly up and down. Harry arched into the caress, reveling in the way Tom knew exactly how to touch him, how to wring every vibration of pleasure from his nerves.

It wasn't long before Tom paused to smear on more lube, on his fingers rather than his palm. Harry closed his eyes and opened his thighs wider in anticipation, waiting for the slow caress that ran down the cleft of his buttocks and between them, carefully seeking the small entrance. Tom was always careful about this, almost to a fault. Harry loved him for it, and he also loved feeling Tom completely lose control inside him. He breathed deeply, sighing, and relaxed into the feeling of being penetrated.

"Oh, yesss," he murmured, as Tom's slim finger moved easily in and out. "Fuck me, lover. Fuck me with your fingers. You know I like it." Tom added a second finger and a little more force to his movements, watching Harry react. Nothing was more arousing than seeing what he could do to Harry, his straitlaced, serious Harry, and hearing Harry ask, plead, demand, and encourage his touch. Harry was thrusting back against Tom's fingers, his breath coming louder. He reached for Tom and grasped his lover's arm, hard, to steady himself.

"Want more?" Tom asked.

"Definitely," Harry replied with a groan. Tom slowly filled his lover with three fingers, producing a gasp that sounded very, very close to orgasm. Tom moved cautiously, not wanting to make Harry come just yet. Harry's face was tight with need and pleasure.

"Was she as good as I am?" Tom said, never stopping what he was doing.

"Oh, baby--I, I couldn't compare you." Harry grunted, unable to say more as Tom picked up the pace again.

"Oh, I don't know," Tom mused, stroking Harry's cock idly with the fingers of his other hand. "I've had sex with men and women both, and I'd say one can compare the two. Did she touch you like this?"

"Unh-- not the first night, but-- later."

"Hmm. Which do you like better--fucking her, or fucking me? Or how about getting fucked?" Tom smiled sweetly.

Harry groaned helplessly at Tom's words, then forced his eyes open. "She was my first lover, and everything was new to me. You, as I mentioned earlier, are my last lover. Got that?"

Tom leaned down to kiss Harry with amazing gentleness, fired by the intensity in those luminous dark eyes. "Got it, sweetheart. Ready for my cock, now?"

"Yes, please."

Tom reluctantly withdrew from Harry's body and hastily covered himself with the slippery lubricant. He delayed long enough to wipe both hands on the nearby towel, then helped Harry get a couple of pillows into position to make things easier. It had become something of a habit for Harry to lie on his back when being the receptive partner, whereas Tom got on hands and knees. Now, Harry stretched out his hands and took one of Tom's as Tom guided his cock into Harry with the other hand.

Deep sighs of relief escaped both men as their bodies glided together, joined at last. Tom kissed Harry's throat, his ear, whispered, "So what happened next?"

Harry gasped as Tom thrust gently. "You really want to know, now?"

"Yes," thrusting again for emphasis.

Harry tried to override his body's signals from below and call up the memory. "Siobhan told me she wanted my cock." He was slightly breathless, but though Tom was moving in him, he was deliberately holding back, not fucking Harry senseless. Yet.

"Just like you told me," Tom agreed, a little breathless himself. "I bet it was quite a turn-on, just like it is for me to hear you say it."

"Oh, yeah." Harry shifted a little. "So I got on top of her, between her thighs, and--and she took hold of my cock and-- ungh-- guided me into her."

Tom let go of Harry's hand and leaned forward over his lover, bringing their torsos closer together. "How did she feel?" he ground out.

"Hot. Slick. Better than her mouth on me, tight-- oh, but not so tight that I was worried about hurting her." Harry bit his lip. "More, please, Tom. . ."

Tom obliged, pushing a little harder, a little faster. "Did it feel as good as this? As good as--being in me, as my being-- in you?"

Harry laughed soundlessly. "It was my first time. Nothing ever felt that good-- until my first time with you." He reached up and brushed sweaty hair from his lover's forehead. "And then she changed position under me so that I went in deeper." He suited actions to words, feeling more than hearing Tom's groan of response. "And-- and she grabbed my shoulders and said, 'Fuck me, Harry, and don't hold back'."

Tom's eyes were hotter than the warp core, spinning like the galaxy itself. He thrust into Harry's body as far as he could go, held himself there, and rasped, "Tell me, Harry. Please."

Harry grasped Tom's shoulders and met that molten gaze with one of his own. "Fuck me, Tom, and don't hold back."

With a fierce cry, Tom let go of his tight control. He pulled out and slammed back in, again and again, taking Harry hard and knowing his lover wanted it as much as he did himself. Harry's hands slithered down to cup Tom's ass and pull him in even harder, though he was already shaking with the force of those powerful thrusts. Tom seized Harry's cock with one hand, drawing a scream of surprised ecstasy from the other man. Harry tightened around Tom, arching up beneath him and feeling it come, a release so intense it would kill him to try to contain it. Groaning, Tom stroked Harry roughly, twice, three times, and Harry came, volcanically, calling Tom's name and drawing him into climax as well, as those inner muscles clenched around Tom again and again and he exploded as wildly as Harry, burying himself in his lover.

Tom came back to himself with a groan and the thought that he was probably crushing Harry under his weight. Harry, however, murmured a complaint as Tom withdrew and their bodies separated. They collapsed against one another with a thud, arms and legs entangled. The sound of a solo flute mingled with their loud breathing.

"Did you ever see Siobhan again?" Tom asked presently.

Harry sighed. "Oh, yeah. She was at Juilliard for six weeks, and we made love two or three times a week until she left. After that we wrote to each other for a while. She was the best teacher I had there."

"And after Siobhan?"

"There was Matt. And then Libby." Harry sighed again.

Tom knew Harry was reluctant to talk about either of them. "And then me," he concluded, giving Harry a tired kiss.

"And then you," Harry confirmed, with a smile. "You know what?"

"What?" Tom was nearly asleep already.

"Sex with you is the best."

Tom chuckled. "I knew it would be."

Harry whacked Tom with the nearest pillow, and Tom tried to tickle him, while, forgotten for the moment, the silvery voice of Siobhan ni Riain caroled mischievously, "I know who is sick, I know who is sorry, I know who I'll kiss, ah but the Lord knows who I'll marry. . ."

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End