FIC: Engineered For Perfection

Author: emma oz

Disclaimer: This is not my universe. Someone else owns it.

Notes: This is the first PWP I’ve ever written, and is a big change of direction for me.

AUTHORS NOTE: I may be right out in my interpretation of the characters, as I’ve only seen five episodes of Andromeda. (I live in a country where the show has yet to air). I was struck, however, by both the beauty of Tyr and Harper, and by the interesting differences between them. I have attempted to explore the nature of power and identity - to some extent - in these slender works. Please let me know what you think.

Disclaimer: Writing in this universe is a complement to its owners, rather than an attempt to stake a claim to it.

Pairing: Tyr/Harper

Warnings: M/M sex

Genre: PWP

Feedback: Gentle feedback please. This is the first PWP I’ve written.

By Emma Oz

The crew had been celebrating the return of the most recent planet to the reformed Commonwealth long and hard. First at the formal and rather stuffy diplomatic reception, and then again in a boozy party on Andromeda. Trance had played some music and they danced energetically. Trance’s skin was flushed a royal purple with exertion, Beka was laughing as she moved and Harper danced with intensity and a great lack of coordination. Even Tyr danced, perhaps because Rev had brought out some high quality alcohol he’d traded for on the last-but-one planet. Even Hunt had loosened up a little, enough to leave early with Andromeda.

After Beka and Trance went to paint Rev’s nails, Tyr and Harper found themselves walking back to the crew’s quarters together. Harper was bouncing unsteadily and Tyr found himself looking easily over the shorter human’s head, trying to steer him away from the walls.

Tyr turned a corner but Harper kept walking straight ahead, so Tyr tugged on his arm until he straightened out. It seemed easier to tuck the human in close to him, and moving him nearer had the bonus of allowing Tyr to smell clearly the clean human scent which had been haunting him all evening.

As Harper reached the door to his room, he fumbled with the keypadd and turned to look at Tyr. ‘Wanna come back to my room?’ he said, ‘I’ve got some brandy that you have to taste to believe.’

Tyr shrugged and entered. Stepping gingerly over the mess of the room, he sat on the edge of the bed. He picked up some electrical components and dropped them to the floor as Harper went to a storage unit and brought out a green bottle and two glasses.

‘Drink it slowly,’ Harper said as he handed over one glass unsteadily.

Tyr sipped and it really was worth savouring.

He swallowed faster than he had intended when Harper flopped on the bed beside him, gently put a hand on his thigh and said, ‘So, have you, like, come back to my room? Or just come back to my room?’

Tyr involuntarily raised an eyebrow and began to formulate a polite way to decline. Humans were so unpredictable about sex, they didn’t treat it in the straightforward way of Nietzscheans and so discussing sex with them required special tact.

It would appear, however, that gathering his drink addled thoughts had taken rather longer than he had intended, because Harper had taken silence for acquiescence and begun stroking his side softly.

Tyr cleared his throat. ‘This is very.... flattering... but Nietzscheans don’t....’

Harper’s hand crept beneath his shirt and felt so warm and gentle. ‘That is, Nietzscheans don’t , or at least, only very rarely.... mmmmm....’

Harper kissed his shoulder lightly and wriggled against him. He smelled of alcohol and smoke and another, fainter scent which Tyr identified as Harper’s arousal. ‘Sex, for Nietzscheans is about procreation... and as we can clearly not procreate...not that I wouldn’t be...’

Harper stilled his hands and knelt on the bed so he was looking in Tyr’s eyes. ‘I thought Nietzscheans always competed to get what they wanted?’ he said.

‘Yes.’

‘So, don’t you want this?’

Tyr paused for a heartbeat, and then rolled back onto the bed taking Harper with him. Harper smiled breathtakingly at him and then bit lightly him on the chin. There was a localised whirlwind as Tyr removed their clothes, and a flurry of motion as Harper hindered him by interrupting him to stroke the dark skin on his chest or gently bite his fingers.

*****

An endless time later Tyr paused, embarrassed to be at a loss. Foreplay was valued among Nietzscheans, but only as a means to consummation which would ideally lead to procreation. He could see a hundred ways to move this forward, but no way to reach a conclusion.

Harper twisted impatiently and bumped against him with his hip. When Tyr didn’t react, he flipped suddenly around so he was face to face - so to speak - with Tyr’s erect and very interested cock. He looked up at Tyr who was laid out like a dark marble statue. Harper wriggled an eyebrow, and then reached out to delicately lick the very tip of Tyr’s cock.

Tyr bucked in excitement. Harper’s mouth was warm and his tongue bumped against Tyr’s cock in a distracting way. Harper took Tyr into his mouth and then let him slide almost all the way out before nuzzling on the head.

Tyr moaned and reached out to take Harper’s member in his hand. Harper moaned in appreciation and the vibrations around his cock made him pull harder on Harper.

Harper pulled his mouth clear for a moment and grinned at him. ‘Hell of a feedback loop, huh?’

Before Tyr could frame a reply, Harper had filled his mouth again, setting up a steady rhythm which charmed Tyr, intoxicated him. Harper made a small movement and suddenly Tyr slid part of the way into this throat. Tyr jerked convulsively, grunted in surprise and came in spurts into the clutching warmth.

Tyr had never come in someone’s mouth before. To waste seed in that way would be very un-Nietzschean. But the tightness of Harper’s throat around him and the feeling that he had slipped right inside the human was overwhelming.

He shuddered as his climax slowed and finished. Relaxed, he slid back out of Harper’s throat and into his mouth. Harper made a muffled sound and Tyr suddenly wondered how the human had breathed before. He pulled out altogether and put his hand on Harper’s heaving chest.

Harper licked the corner of his mouth, drawing a drop of cum in. ‘Good, hmm?’

Tyr nodded and looked at his hand which was still clasped around Harper’s cock. His hand was very dark, Harper’s cock was flushed purple and the contrast was beautiful. ‘And now you,’ he said thickly. He tightened his grip and Harper sighed, smiled, and came beatifically.

*****

The next day Harper, struggling with a hangover of monumental proportions, turned to Tyr. Without introduction he cut to the core of what he wanted to say. ‘Was that OK? I mean, was it something you wanted to do?’

Tyr looked down at the smaller human. ‘Do you really think you could make me do something I didn’t want to do?’

Harper accepted the insult without comment. He flung his hand over his eyes and then squinted at Tyr through his fingers. ‘Then is it something you’d like to do again?’

Tyr nodded and then, very slightly, smiled.

END