Title: Hunting Harper

Author: Vesper

Fandom: Andromeda

Rating: NC17

Pairing: Tyr/Harper

Status: Complete

E-mail: vesper@carrotmail.com

Disclaimer: I don't own anything to do with Andromeda.

Summary: Tyr's POV during a game.

Warning: There are consent issues here. In my opinion it's all fully consensual but it could be read otherwise

I'm hunting the boy. We could call it training but we both know that it's more serious than that. He knows what will happen if I catch him. He knows I *will* catch him and how I'll make it hard for him if I find him too easily.

He's tried to mask his scent by contaminating the air filters in this section. It won't work: I have a keen sense of smell and I can identify the faint traces of his essence over the cloying stink of lavender, coffee and eucalyptus. It's a good tactic though; it would work on a Nietzschean who wasn't so familiar with his scent.

He touched the wall here; I can smell the adrenaline-sharpened sweat there. I probably shouldn't be salivating at the thought of Harper's slim form running through the corridors sweating. But I do. It's the adrenaline, a sweet, hot chemical trigger that goes straight to my animal brain, bypassing all higher brain functions. I speed up my pursuit: he has two hours to evade me, but I don't want to play this out. I want him now.

He's gone into the ducts, he knows he's faster in there than I am. I have the schematics in my head and I know he'll keep moving. There are only so many routes he can safely take; eventually he'll have to come back within range. But where?

Here. It's the main access for most of the interconnecting tubes, ducts and small spaces he squeezes through. I just have to wait and eventually he'll come to me. I hate to wait; anticipation has never been a pleasure for me. I prefer my pleasures more basic, direct, immediate.

I hear him. He's very light on his feet but I hear him nonetheless. He's taken off those big boots he wears and he's running barefoot down...that one! I barely breathe, although I know he cannot hear me. He has slowed but he inches closer and closer. He is allowed to take any one tool except Rommie to aid him in this game, does he have a motion or biosensor? A motion sensor would not detect me but a bioscan will pick me up immediately.

I see his shadow; it's a motion sensor. Ah Harper, you need to learn better. He creeps closer.

Caught! He's faster than he was, I almost missed. Almost but not quite. I clap a hand over his mouth to stop his protests and growl in his ear. The sound of his heart beating so fast drums my senses to a higher pitch and I throw him down and bite.

I never break the skin but always leave a mark. I'll leave more before we're done here. Receiving pain arouses him almost as much as it arouses me to inflict it and I can smell the pheromones and our musk filling the air. It's so strong I wonder why we cannot see it, surely there should be a cloud of lust and fear and need above us.

He hasn't given in yet though, he struggles to escape despite the hard cock pressing towards me. It's futile and he knows it but still he does it, he never gives up until I'm inside him. I love to taste him, to bite and lick his body, I'd taste his seed if could but my Nietzschean upbringing is still with me: an Alpha does not perform oral sex for another's pleasure. Of course an Alpha would not be tearing off a human man's clothing, eager to spill his genetic worth uselessly into kludge's anal passage.. Yet here I am.

Harper is breathless now, his eyes are dark with lust but still he fights. The lack of boots made it easy for me to strip him and now he lies, pinned under me, on his back naked. He licks his lips and I wish I would kiss him, but I won't. I won't let him know that to me this is more than a fuck game, a pleasurable way to assert my dominance and train him to survive. He'll never know how I ache for him in the night.

I'm angry that I feel this way and push into him harder than I should. I can see it hurts him but I don't care. I bury myself completely in his body and watch his face melt from pain to pleasure and back as I take him roughly in this cramped and dirty place. I pull his feet up to my shoulders and lean over him, pistoning away, his cock rubbing between our stomachs.

He ejaculates first. He always does.

I spend myself inside him and get up. "83 minutes" I say, "Not bad". And I walk away.

The End