Temaris' adult fiction: Strange Days, a P/K story

A first time story, with sex, humour (I hope) and some sap.

Temaris

Strange days

"Hi Tom, sleep well?" Harry bounced into his friend's quarters, full of the joys of -- Tom puzzled for a moment over what had him so full of beans, then gave up.

"Hi Harry," he replied, staring morosely at a padd.

"What's the matter? Is something wrong? Didn't you sleep okay?"

"No, I'm fine." <If you knew. And if I don't close this down you'll be reading over my shoulder, and you will know.>

Sure enough, there was Harry, trying to see what his pal was up to. <Toldya.>

"Get out of it Harry!" <Oh damn.> Harry blinked at the hasty words and backed off. <Now look what you've done! Hey, you keep at this he won't be talking to you at all by the end of the day.>

"Sorry, didn't mean to snap. It's just, I've" He flailed wildly for inspiration, and found it, "Christmas! I was trying to figure out stuff for Christmas." <Nice save Paris, vague, yet completely de-hooking. Now, if I can just get the rest sorted. . .> He stared longingly at Harry's ass as he bent over to pick up a stray sweater from the floor. <Yay Harry, you keep doing that. Then again,> as he felt his groin tighten, <Maybe I should get him to avoid doing that.> He sighed happily. <Nope. View's too good to complain about the side effects.>

". . .breakfast? Tom, are you paying attention here? Do you want to have a go or not?"

"Yeah, sure." <Let's hope I wanted to do that.>

"Oh good, so we're on then?" <Guess I should have found out what it was before agreeing, but the kid looks so. . .> Again he was lost for words at the expression on Harry's open face. Anticipation, pleasure, excitement. Something more, some kind of, he had it, glee, mostly hidden but definitely peeking out at the edges. Gorgeous.

"Great! Let's see, if you come over to my quarters, around seven, 'kay? No earlier."

Bemused Tom nodded, trailing after Harry as he sped off down the corridor to the mess. Tom shook his head, wondering if someone had hit their head, and whether it was him or Harry.

By the end of the morning, he'd decided it was him. Somehow, overnight, he'd hit his head, or mysteriously switched dimensions (again). There had to be some kind of explanation to the way everyone was behaving.

He'd arrived on the bridge to discover Chakotay had completely reworked the duty rosters, leaving him with the choice between taking the very next day off, and having no free time again for the next three months. <I know we don't get on, but really. Lighten up a bit Chak.> His shoulders shook as he considered repeating this out loud, but he didn't chance it. It didn't improve matters that the XO looked like he thought this was hilarious. <Probably did it deliberately. So I won two weeks rations off him at pool. He needs the variety. It might even persuade him to sharpen up that game of his.>

Then, mid morning, B'Elanna had called him down to engineering, with what even he soon realised was a totally spurious excuse about the helm controls, and spent half an hour grilling him about his sex life. <Like I've had any since we split up,> he thought with some annoyance. Actually, that too had been kind of odd. Every one seemed to be pairing off, especially if he looked like trying to chat them up. He was starting to feel like he'd caught some horrible social disease, which no one had yet dared to tell him about, instead they acted like he was a pariah. <And that's another thing, where does B'Ela get off advising me about my moves? What is it with women, the moment they've had their wicked way with you they want to run your life. And they always know better.>

"So, you coming to the mountain cabin tonight?" It was his latest holoprogram, intended to act as a contrast to the constant summer of the resort.

"Oh, um, no. Harry's got something he wants us to do, and I don't know how long he'll be. Now what've I said?" he asked exasperatedly, as B'Elanna's lips pinched and her eyes widened then narrowed in that expression he recognised from when he had said something unintentionally funny, and she was dying to explode with laughter. She caught his look of bewilderment, and the faint hurt behind it, and tried to cover.

"No, don't worry, I just saw -- Carey trying to polarise the tresonityrium inverters when he should be refanoring them." She really did giggle at the look on Tom's face then. "I guess it's an engineering thing. I better dash. Have a good evening." She'd dashed a quick kiss over his lips, and vanished. A moment later, when he still hadn't moved from shock, her head re-appeared, "Behave hotshot. Now aren't you supposed to be on the bridge?" And she was gone again.

Dazed and confused he went back to sit out his shift till lunchtime. Lunch was another puzzle. Harry vanished off with Jenny, Megan and B'Elanna, and the four of them had pointedly sat on a four seater table far away from Tom. He frowned, and ate the plate of Neelix' cooking mechanically, not noticing the taste or texture for once. Most the time his eyes were on Harry, who looked to be having a great time. They were laughing and chatting excitedly about something. He winced and turned away when Jenny pulled down the neck of her sweater to show Harry something, <God, how cheap can you get?> and felt a strange dizziness in the pit of his stomach when he leaned closer and touched her there, on the soft skin just above her collar bone, saying something with a wicked grin on his face. There was a shout of laughter, and Harry was blushing furiously, but smiling, his shoulders shaking with laughter. And at the end of lunch Jenny hugged him, and pressed a kiss on the flushed cheek, and Tom surprised himself with the intensity of the jealousy he felt. <Mine! Get your filthy hands off him,> he instantly regretted the words, <If Har wants her, then she'll be good to him. She better. And I'll make sure she is. He's got to be happy.> A wistful look after Harry as he left, bantering with the three women, nary a backwards glance at Tom. <He sure does look happy. Shit.>

The Captain called him into the ready room after lunch. He'd made some suggestions about the few remaining shuttlecrafts, on how to conserve them, maybe even increase efficiency on them. The meting was going quite well he thought, but he was constantly thrown by the little snorts Janeway kept giving. The first time he'd been talking about the shuttles' current performance. He might have mentioned something about navigational shield penetration from incoming foreign objects. At any rate, nothing that could reduce the captain to a state of smothered chokes. Thereafter, she went on doing it. Finally it clicked <Duh, you getting old or what Paris?> She was reading innuendoes into his words that he'd never meant. <What the hell was she on?>

Finally she dismissed him, and he fled, with the terrified feeling that she was going to grab him for some serious fucking if he didn't move out fast. Glancing around the bridge as he came back on he realised that people were staring at him curiously, most of them with odd grins on their faces.

<Is my fly undone?> He scratched the top of his head casually, as cover for checking, <Nope, no flies to leave undone.> It was harder to get a casual look down his own back but he tried, just in case his boxers were peeking out, or someone had attached a I'm a schmuck - kick me note on his back.

"Is there a problem, Mr Paris?" Damn, even the Vulcan looked like he was having fun at Tom's expense.

"No sir."

"Then could you keep your eyes on the road." There were muffled snickers all round the bridge. <Did he just crack a joke? Holy Jesus, a Vulcan cracked a joke!> He checked the chronometer, no, he had only had the normal quota of four Sundays this last month. Though there had been that blue moon a few days ago. . . Maybe that was it. Behavioural variations induced by coloured cosmic rock. The theory looked pretty good actually. Maybe everyone but him had picked something up, some virus or-- He came to an abrupt halt when he remembered that scans had shown no life signs, that everyone had come through de-contam with a clean sheet, and that he'd been one of the five people to visit the asteroid. <Maybe I'm naturally immune.> But the fun had gone out of it.

<Dammit all. Now Chakotay's off talking to him. Gerroff! You hear me you painted floozy! Gerroff! Paris, get a grip! Yeah, on his neck and straight out the airlock. What's an old roue like him doing chatting up an innocent like Harry.> Tom paused for a moment and his own sense of the ridiculous broke through. <Painted floozie? Roue? Chakotay??> He started shaking helplessly with silent mirth at the contrast of the serene, spiritual XO and the words. <Damn, I really need to get a grip.>

He was still hiccing as he was relieved of duty at the end of his shift. Harry cast an odd look at him, one Tom couldn't quite decipher.

"Hey Tom?" Mercifully Tom did not look round, and so didn't see the thumbs-up and other gestures of encouragement being waved at Harry.

"Yeah?" They stepped into the turbolift together, and Tom took a deep breath. <There it was. Harry, sweet and a little sweaty after a long day, the smell of his shower gel lingering in his hair.> He smiled involuntarily, and didn't realise for a moment that Harry seemed to be suddenly struck dumb. When he did, he frowned a little, "You okay ensign?"

"Sorry, just zoned there for a minute. Tom, do you want to eat first? I'll spring for the rep rations."

"Are you sure?" <First? What are we doing after? I really should remember check what I'm agreeing to before I agree to it. But what the hell, if it's Harry, I'll want to be there regardless of what 'it' is.> Harry nodded, a hank of dark hair breaking loose from the neat cap and falling across his forehead. "Then thank you, I'd like that."

"Good. Don't forget, not before seven!" Harry seemed to dance out the lift and rushed off down the corridor, leaving Tom, faintly heartsick, distinctly bewildered, staring after him.

When he turned up, on the fraction of seven, the door simply opened before him, without him raising his hand. Startled, he walked inside, and stopped dead. The room was different. There were little bowls everywhere, and tiny lights floating in them. There was a strong, sweet smell in the place, that tickled his nose for a moment, before spreading through him. He took a deep breath, and was surprised to find himself relaxing right through his body, till the puzzlements of the day became distant, and he was content to stand there, waiting. Gradually he became aware of music. It must have begun very softly, a single clarinet, playing some unusual piece. He shifted uneasily on his feet, responding to the plaintive questioning sound. It seemed to want something, and he couldn't tell what. Finally he met Harry's eyes as he walked through the doorway, still playing. The ensign stopped abruptly.

"No, go on. . ." Paris said before he thought.

Harry smiled at him, eyes mysterious, "It doesn't have an ending - yet."

"You wrote it? Harry that's amazing! My friend, the genius. What's it called?"

"I haven't really thought about that yet," he hesitated. "Well, I have, but you've got to promise not to laugh."

Tom sketched a salute, "Scouts honour."

"It's for you."

"That's a funny name." <it couldn't. . .> But he was wrong.

"No Tom. You don't understand. I wrote it for you." There was a long silence, then Tom rushed in with, "That's nice. I mean, why? But it's a nice idea, I love it, and "

"Do you?"

Tom looked at his friend again, then around the room. <If this were anyone else, I'd think he was trying to seduce me. Candlelight, music. . . god, he looks so tense. . .>

"Yeah. Yes, Harry, I really do." Whatever the question was, it was the right answer. Harry smiled again, and lowered the clarinet to its stand.

"Want some food?"

The meal was delicious, if simple. Tomato soup, meat stew with baked potatoes, some kind of killer chocolate cake replete with fudge topping. They chatted quietly about anything and everything, from their childhoods, to instructors in common at the Academy, Naomi Wildman's latest mishap with Neelix' cooking. Tom found himself sitting close to him, relaxed and purely happy.

"Did you have other plans for this evening," he asked, wondering when this dream would end. Harry's smile vanished like dust in water.

"Why, do you?" he said.

More than anything, Tom wanted that smile back. "No?"

It was the right answer. "No?"

"No. I mean yes. I mean -- you" He threw a cushion at Harry, who was laughing at him. Harry threw one back, then grabbed two, and started to batter them at Tom, who was trying to tickle him. They wrestled for the cushions, and Harry won, using his more muscled shoulders shamelessly against Tom's attempts to wriggle out from under him. Tom felt disaster strike, and struggled harder, trying to get Harry off of him, before he got off on Harry, and ruined a beautiful evening.

It was too late. Harry paused, and moved thoughtfully on Tom's body, holding his wrists. Tom couldn't help the groan he let out, it was just there, and he was there, and he was staring up into loving brown eyes, and -- He stopped and ran that sentence past his brain again. Yep. That was the word, but. Then all thought was moot, as Harry whispered, staring at Tom's chin, "If you want me to stop just say so." His lips were just hovering over Tom's, then they were touching his.

Tom wrapped his arms about Harry's waist, and moaned into his warm, generous loving kiss. The heat already in his groin spread outwards, inflaming the rest of his body, battering through all the defenses he'd set out to stop himself from doing this to his unattainable dream. He gasped and pulled away.

"Harry, Harry you mustn't."

"What? What's wrong?" Harry was looking at him anxiously, eyes full of ready sympathy. "Are you, can you. . .is it. . .Auckland?"

"Auckland? What?" Then he got it, and almost laughed if it weren't for the tender look on Harry's face. "Oh for crying out loud Har, what have you been reading? NZPC is a modern penal colony, not a rapist's wet dream. This is the 24th century we're in, not the year of the fruitbat."

Harry was blushing, "Well, B'Elan said, that you never wanted to talk about it. And that you wouldn't ever discuss the possibility of same sex couples, so. . ."

"I didn't want to talk about it because I'm ashamed of that time, and the reasons I was there. I was stupid, and I lied, and tried to kill innocent people, and was totally incompetent. I won't say I was a traitor, because I think the Maquis were right. . .I'd do that again. And as for the other thing - I was in a het relationship. I thought she was wanting to invite someone in for a threesome, and I just wasn't interested." Another thought suddenly occurred. "Hang on, how do you know what she asked me when we were still dating?"

The blush intensified. "because mumble mph mm m."

"Sorry? Didn't quite catch that."

"Cos she was going to suggest me. And she told me about it after."

Tom swallowed, and felt his erection reach another notch on the scale, from merely painful to agonised gotta get some now.

"Do you want to talk or do something about that?" Harry asked, slipping to one side of Tom and rubbing a hand intimately over the bulge in his pants. Tom gasped.

"Careful, if you want it to last, you better not do thaaaaat!" His pants were unceremoniously jerked down, and Harry was gazing proudly at the erection.

"All for me," he said possessively, and Tom was torn between laughing and begging him to take him. <Slowly, slowly, you don't know what the kid ah! Ohhhhh. . .Ah ah ah ah oh oh, Harry Harry Harryharryharryharryharryharryharry!" Somewhere thought had become speech, as the kid's tender mouth surrounded his aching flesh, and began moving up and down - and down and down, oh dear god, Harry! Harry! Tom's back was arching, thrusting his hips up into that amazingly talented mouth and throat. It didn't take long, Tom was coming with a howl, eyes wide, staring at Harry in awe and delight. The kid was still there, crouched over Tom, holding his cock with warm wet lips. Tom whimpered as he felt Harry swallow around him, and give one last powerful suck. His hips arched again, and lights went off in the back of his eyes.

Blindly he held out his hands, and Harry took them, and lying down on him, wrapped them around his waist again.

"Harry?"

"Yeah?" Harry sounded sleepy and happy.

"No, just, 'Harry'."

Harry opened his eyes and lifted his head to stare at Tom in bemusement. Tom felt himself reddening, and said, "I like the way you answer me. I love the sound of your voice. And the way that you're here." He rolled on the couch, turning them till Harry was wedged between the back of the couch and his own body. "There," he said, satisfied.

"Tom?"

"Yeah."

"Tom, I can't move."

"I know," Tom grinned. "And you're jabbing some great thing into me. Ought to be more considerate of your guest." he ribbed him.

"About average actually." Was that a smirk?

"You calling me a liar?" Yes, definitely a smirk.

"No! Wouldn't dream of it." Harry gave in, laughing.

"Well then." They both lay cuddled close, mostly dressed, smiling into each other's eyes.

"Harry?"

"Yeah? If this is another excuse to 'hear my voice'. . ."

"I love you."

"Oh." Harry's answer, such as it was, was soft and wide eyed.

"Oh? I spill my guts and all you can say is 'oh'?" he tried to keep his tone light, but Harry could see the anxiety and fear, and kissed it away.

"Me too." Harry said between kisses.

"That's so -- unspilling -- your guts -- it's -- not true." Tom pulled the back of Harry's head in close for a longer, more satisfying kiss, and another, and another. Oh the feel of it. His lips were so close, so intimate, touching his, learning the shape of Tom, yes, memorise me, never let go, please, oh I love you.

Harry rolled on top of Tom, placed his hands on either side of Tom's face, holding still for a long moment until their breath steadied, and said quietly, "You want gut spilling? Well then, I love you. I want you. I have to have you in my life, in my bed. Wherever I go I want to see you, I look for you, if you're not there then the day is harder to live through, the nights unbearable. Just hearing your voice from my comm badge can give me a hard on." He blushed, and Tom smiled up at him adoringly. Harry wasn't finished. "I fell in love with you Thomas Eugene Paris, and I'm never going to get over it. I get in deeper every moment, and I don't care, I'd die without it - without you. If you're not there there is no day, no air, nothing that is worth anything, just dust and ashes. When you look at someone else I feel like I've swallowed glass, when you look at me I feel. . .I feel. I think you're gorgeous, and beautiful and wonderful and funny and sexy and delicious and clever and such a good pilot, and such a kind man, and you've got an incredible body," he wriggled against said body, and felt Tom's instant response. "You're a good friend, and everything I ever wanted in my life's partner. It's like you're the other half of me, that I never missed before I knew you, and would never stop missing if you were gone."

He paused, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to dump all that on you."

Tom was overwhelmed. "Oh Harry. I don't deserve that. Don't apologise. You've got the wrong guy here. How could you think I'm like that? I'm no saint."

"It just is. There's no reason to it. You're perfect, and I'm," he smiled deprecatingly, "I'm just an ensign who's always in trouble, and --"

"Hey, no putting down my lover. And I'm not perfect Harry. I love that you think so, but I'm not even close."

"I believe it, so it's true."

Tom could almost feel the universe re-writing itself in response to those definite words. If Harry said it then it was true. He kissed Harry's cheek, just to make sure he was real, then kissed him again, their lips meeting in the middle, letting Harry explore his mouth, loving the feel of him, biting lightly, sucking the tongue in deeper, feeling the hands roving over his body. For a moment the weight of Harry lifted from him, and he said, "no, please," tugging, then realised that the hands were stripping him, and joined in, pulling hard on the shirt till the buttons went flying, and Harry's chest was bare. He ran his hands down that glorious smooth expanse, walked his fingers up the ribs, traced around the tiny nipples, pressed his hands into the silken skin, staring at his hands splayed out on Harry's naked flesh, touching him, thumbs still caressing the swollen nipples, this most lover-like position. He felt like singing, or crying, or rolling him over and fucking him silly. <Though he hasn't come yet.> Another thought came to him, and he was staggered to realise he was hard again. <Yeah, I think we can safely say I liked that idea.> Harry was straddled over Tom's waist, his cock waving with every caress that he leaned down to bestow, brushing against Tom's stomach to leave sticky trails.

Tom grinned, and pulled Harry down for a hug, squashing his erection between them. <I wonder if I can do this?> an absent thought tracked through his mind and was barely registered.

He flipped Harry over, and took up the same position over him. He could feel the cock rubbing against his backside, and knelt up a little, carefully trying to stretch himself with one hand, while distracting Harry with the other. When he lifted his mouth from Harry's chest the man beneath him was writhing and moaning, his hips pushing up convulsively. <Oops, a little too close.> He held Harry still, and lapped delicately at his collarbone, the hollow at the base of his neck, feeling the pulse jump rapidly against his tongue. Then they were kissing again, when Tom finally pulled away he was panting as hard as his lover. Glazed brown eyes met mischievous blue, then Tom knelt up, took his fingers out of his ass, and slowly, incredibly slowly, sank himself down onto Harry's straining cock, holding himself open at first, then controlling his descent with just his thighs.

He moaned as his ass came to a rest on Harry's hips, feeling himself completely filled. His head fell back and he was breathing in short dry gasps. He leaned back, resting his hands on Harry's thighs, arching his back, letting the burning rod slip out a little, then slid back down onto it. His muscles clenched, and Harry, staring wide eyed up at him, groaned. The sensation was incredible, Tom was so hot and tight, and the feel of the muscle and skin moving caressingly all around him was driving him crazy. He thrust upwards, and heard Tom cry out, impaling himself harder and deeper on Harry.

They moved with each other, faster and faster, till Tom was almost on the edge, never once touching himself. He no longer knew who was taking whom, but it was incredible. He added a little twist of his hips as he rammed himself down again, and felt the cock inside him ride over his prostate. He cried out, and gripped him with his sphincter, Harry wailed, and jerked, grabbing Tom's hips and slamming up as best he could, till his brain whited out and he came, thrashing madly. The first feel of the hot jism flooding into him set Tom off too, and he came for a second time, yelling Harry's name over and over.

Tom flopped forwards, gasping for air. Harry's arms slowly came up around him, holding tightly. They fell asleep like that.

"Gods, if it was possible to keep you in there for forever, then I'd never be empty again." Tom whispered into the soft beige skin of Harry's shoulder. Harry's penis had long since slipped out of Tom, but he could still feel the faint rawness in his anus where he had fucked himself on his lover. Harry was asleep, or at least, his eyes were closed, and they were side by side, Tom's head resting on him, their arms loosely around each other's bodies. Compulsively he hugged him tighter and tighter, in case it was a dream, and the whole thing would slip away from him.

"Tom?" Harry's voice was sleep thickened, and his eyes opened just a tiny slit.

"Who else?" Tom joked, then thought, <who else? What, but, >

Harry's eyes opened further, and he took in the look on Tom's face. "Come here idiot." The kiss was long and frustrating. Tom wanted more, but he had to get to the bridge. . .

"Computer, time?"

"It is 9.09."

"What!!" Tom leapt to his feet.

"Tom."

"Where's my uniform? Oh god, look at my clothes, new one, replicator. . ."

"Tom!"

"What? Harry, we've gotta move!"

"No we don't. Now get back here."

"Huh?"

"You've got the day off. Remember?"

"Oh. Yeah. Hey, that's pretty good. I mean, I was really pissed off with Chakotay about that, and now I actually need it. I don't usually get breaks... like. . . that. . ." he slowed, and was staring accusingly at Harry, who was trying to look innocent, and was achieving smug.

"A little foresight, and all is arranged," the ensign said brightly.

"you- you - you - "

"And I've got the day off too. Great timing huh?"

"You - you - you - "

"Me, me, me what?" Harry teased, eyes happy and smiling.

"you planned this?"

"Of course. I wasn't getting anywhere the other way."

"The other way?" Tom asked faintly.

"you know, skin-tight, revealing clothes, lots of eye contact, getting right inside your personal space, lots of touches, taking an interest in your hobbies, eating with you - although I have to admit I never thought much of Neelix' food as an aid to seduction, despite his claims."

"Claims?" Tom was starting to see a bigger picture here, and really wanted to know it wasn't true. "Who else knows about this?"

"Well, B'Elan told me to do it, , she said I'd never notice unless I knocked you down and jumped your bones. I'd been thinking about what to do to get your attention for a while, and she came in at just the right moment. So I got it all planned. I had to find out what you liked to eat - that was easy, I got the replicator records authorised to me by Tuvok, and Neelix told me what you usually ate in the mess, though, like I said, I didn't think that was going to help much. Jenny and Megan and B'Elanna told me what you liked in bed - though I guess they'll be in for a couple of surprises when we meet for lunch next week," he ignored Tom's splutter, "Umm, let's see, Chakotay had to authorise the time off, and I had to explain to the Captain as well, before they would rearrange your schedule for me."

"Oh God. I'm never going to live this down."

"And by the number of good luck messages I had yesterday, I guess pretty much every one sort of knows. . ." Harry finished up, looking nervous.

Tom dropped his face into his hands. "Oh God."

"Tom?" Harry was starting to sound really panicky now. <Good,> Tom thought, <I'm never going to be able to look anyone in the face again. Why shouldn't he suffer some too.>

"Please Tom? Did I- - don't you? Oh god."

"Harry."

"Yes?" eagerly.

"The next time you fancy someone, please, do me a favour?"

"Okay."

"Just tell them. The other way is too embarrassing."

"Oh. Okay Tom." the ensign replied equably.

"On second thoughts," Tom stood up and grabbed Harry's chin, forcing his eyes up. "next time, tell me, that way I can go track them down and shoot them." Harry's eyes lit up, but any reply he might have made was muffled by the firm lips welded to his own.

*************************************

Memo:

To All Staff.

RE: PRIVACY

I wish to remind everyone that the internal location facilities are intended for ship's business, not tracking the off duty movements of particular members of the crew. Recently, 1,583 requests were logged in a single thirty-six hour period regarding the locations of two officers of this crew. While I appreciate that a change in crew dynamics and inter-crew relationships is major news in our small community, potentially affecting many people, and even though it appears that many people feel they were justified in "checking Harry was all right" in this way, this usage is excessive, intrusive and contrary to Article 527 paragraph 451, section(c), part(iii), subsection(clxxvi), item(2)(b) of the Federation Compact On Privacy, Freedom of Information and Related Matters, 2306. Further abuse will result in disciplinary action, regardless of the position or rank of the person(s) found to be committing these abuses.

Lt Cdr Tuvok,
Chief of Security.

Page last updated 18/09/2004.