Title: Rubbing Off

Author: Moonloon

Rating: R

Pairing: Tyr/Harper

Disclaimer: Pfft! Not mine, never will be, no money.

Notes: In answer to Marissa's challenge on the Slipstream Fanfic forum:
Harper licking Tyr
A dark bedroom
Sparky Cola
Snuggling
Harper being petted
Of course I mis-read the first part so things aren't exactly right.

Set right after BotB.

RUBBING OFF
By Moonloon

Tyr detangled himself from Beka and left Command. The relief of surviving their brush with the Cetus wasn't enough to make him stay and suffer the dreadful excuse for music. He was surprised to see Harper slipping out of the room too. Dylan and Trance were still whirling around the room and Beka would no doubt be interested in a new dance partner, so why was he leaving?

The reason became clear when, once out of sight of Command, Tyr saw Harper leaning on a bulkhead, groaning and rubbing his back.

"Are you all right?" Tyr asked, causing Harper to jump.

Harper squinted up at Tyr. "Let's see. I got hit by digestive fluid and almost blown into space. Thanks for that by the way."

Tyr shrugged, they should have checked that Harper was where they'd thought he was before purging the ship, but it hadn't occurred to them until later.

"Then I almost got turned into a crispy fried Harper treat and my best boots made the ultimate sacrifice, closely followed by being knocked down a shaft, before saving everyone's butts by getting manual control back on." Harper paused for breath and carried on, much to Tyr's silent amusement. "At which point I got to learn new and interesting ways of being tossed across an access tube because, once again, no one thought to ask what I was doing before they got all butch and decided to eject the slipstream core. Now if you don't mind I'm going to shower, change into something that doesn't smell like cooked stomach acid, and haul my ass down to engineering before some bad guy comes along and blows us out of the sky because we can't run away."

Tyr managed to stay expressionless as Harper scowled and limped away.

~

Tyr wasn't sure why he was standing outside Harper's quarters with a jar of muscle salve, but he was sure he was either going to make a huge mistake or take a life-altering step towards knowing himself better. The door slid open to reveal a tired-looking Harper covered in bruises, and drinking a Sparky cola.

And wearing nothing but a towel.

"What now Tyr?" Harper even sounded tired. Tyr noted that without his loud shirts and with his hair damped down, Harper looked even smaller. He was reminded of a scrappy little mongrel puppy one of his cousins had adopted in the days before the Dragans came. Harper bristled. "C'mon Tyr, there has to be a reason why you came. I'm sure it wasn't just so you could ogle my pale, weak little body."

Tyr held up the salve. "You'll need this if you want to work in engineering without seizing up."

A small smile crept onto Harper's face. "Thanks." He took it. "And I'm sorry for going off at you like that. It's just."

"You saved the day and no one said thank you?"

"Yeah, kinda. I mean, I'm glad everyone is alive. It's just that I took a real beating today, some of which could have been avoided very easily, and no one thought to say 'Gee, sorry we almost spaced you and fried your neural net. By the way, thank you for saving our asses'."

Tyr grimaced and stepped into Harper's dimly-lit quarters. "Privacy mode." At Harper's startled expression, he explained. "I don't want documented proof that this took place and if you ever tell anyone about it, I'll deny it."

Harper grinned and folded his arms. "Okay, lets hear it."

"I'm sorry Beka and I almost vented you, and I'm sorry we didn't check with you before we ejected the slipstream core. Thank you for getting manual control back on line so we could kill the Cetus and therefore saving all our lives."

"I'm going to treasure this memory for years to come."

Tyr sighed. "Just don't gloat too obviously or I'll be forced to kill you. Now give me that salve and I'll rub it in for you."

"Uh, okay. is there some special Nietzschean technique I'm unaware of that you need to use?"

Tyr took the jar back. "I know you. You'd slap some on the bits you could reach and then rush off to tinker with your machines. I don't want us to stay vulnerable to attack any longer than necessary and making sure you are at peak efficiency ensures that the ship will be repaired faster. Now sit down."

Harper sat down on the end of his bed and sipped his Sparky. "I have no problem with being massaged by someone who knows what they're doing. You do know what you're doing, right?"

Tyr nodded at Harper, adding 'not really' silently to himself, and sat down behind Harper on the bed. He massaged the salve in like he'd been taught: carefully working it into the skin, adding extra over the developing bruises, loosening the knots in the muscle bundles. Tyr finished Harper's back and began to work his way over Harper's chest. Harper had evidently curled instinctively into a ball, because he wasn't badly bruised there at all. Harper jumped when Tyr touched his leg.

"You have a mark here."

"Uh, yeah. I think I bounced off a ladder." Harper moved up the bed and Tyr shifted around in front of him, firmly rubbing the salve into Harper's legs.

"How do your feet feel?"

"They're a bit tender, but I don't think they're burned."

Tyr hmmed and slopped more salve on. Harper giggled and tried to pull his foot away.

"You're ticklish?"

"Yeah."

"Interesting." Tyr grinned and took a harder grip on Harper's foot, rubbing firm circles with his thumbs. Tyr noticed Harper's skin flushing and remembered that ticklish areas were very often erogenous zones too.

"Okay, I think I'm done." Harper said, a little breathlessly.

"I noticed you favouring your right hip." Tyr said, sliding back up the bed.

Harper blushed and bunched his towel up over his groin. "Nah, it's fine."

"I'd better check. Roll over."

Harper hesitated for a moment the rolled over onto his side, facing away from Tyr. Tyr heard Harper take a long gulp of Sparky and a shuddering breath before relaxing under Tyr's hands. Tyr loosened Harper's towel and stroked salve over the darkening bruise curving across Harper's hip. Tyr tried to concentrate on the medically approved way to apply muscle salve, but the enticing view of Harper's ass, the soft skin, and the unmistakable smell of Harper's arousal distracted him.

"Tyr?"

"Mm hmm?"

"You aren't massaging me any more, are you?"

Tyr moved closer, up against Harper's back, and splayed one large hand over Harper's stomach. "And what am I doing?" He whispered, breathing lightly into Harper's ear.

"You're petting me."

"Yes, I am."

Harper sat up, choking on his Sparky. "Okay, why are you petting me?"

Tyr grinned. "I decided that since I seem to have bought into Dylan's epic endeavor of self-sacrifice and suicidal nobility, I might as well go the whole way and indulge in some pointless, but pleasurable pursuits." Tyr pushed Harper down on the bed and hovered over him. "Like mindless rutting with no procreative goal. Do you have any objections?"

Harper opened his mouth to reply, but all that came out was something that sounded like "Meep!"

Tyr licked the remains of the spilt Sparky off Harper's chin. "I'll take that as a 'yes'."

end

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