Title: How Do I Get There From Here?

Author: JaimeBlue

Archive: Yes to all

Fandom: seaQuest

Pairing: Tim/Miguel

Rating: NC-17

Disclaimer: They don't, nor have they ever belonged to me — my dreams don't count, eh? Oh, but Michel "Mitch" Guerin *does* belong to me :)

Season: 2, sometime after "Vapors"

Summary: The arrival of an old acquaintance of Tim O'Neill's forces Miguel Ortiz to re-evaluate his relationship with his best friend.

Dedication: To Paula (aka APB) — thanks for the tapes, babe! Here's part 2 of my payment!

Author's Note: This entire fic was inspired by the songs on Deana Carter's "Did I Shave My Legs For This?" CD, particularly the song that gave me the title.

Glossary of foreign terms used:

"Je t'aime du fond de mon coeur." - French. I love you from the bottom of my heart.

"Mi amor." - Spanish. My love.

"Cvetik moy." - Russian. Light of my life.

Here are the lyrics to "How Do I Get There" sung and co-written by Deana Carter. Now you can see 1) why it inspired me, and 2) why imo it's the quintessential Tim/Mig song. Hey, who said you couldn't get good slash inspiration from country music? ;)

We've always been the best of friends

No secrets and no demands

But suddenly from somewhere out of the blue

I see a different light around you

One thing I haven't told you, I just want to hold you

And never let go, I need to know

How do I get there from here, how do I make you see

How do I tell you what my heart's been telling me

Lost in your loving arms, that's where I wanna be

You know I love you, how do I get there

You probably think I've lost my mind

Taking this chance, crossing that line

But I promise to be truer than true

Dreaming every night with these arms around you

I can't wait any longer this feeling's getting stronger

Help me find a way

How do I get there from here, how do I make you see

How do I tell you what my heart's been telling me

Lost in your loving arms, that's where I wanna be

You know I love you, how do I get there

I know the shortest distance between two points is a straight line

But I'll climb any mountain that you want me to climb

The perfect combination is your heart and mine

Darling won't you give me a sign

How do I get there from here, how do I make you see

How do I tell you what my heart's been telling me

Lost in your loving arms, that's where I wanna be

You know I love you, how do I get there

HOW DO I GET THERE FROM HERE?

By JaimeBlue

Miguel groaned. He'd just been awakened from the most wonderful dream by a piece of cloth hitting his head. He'd been lying in his bunk, and soft hands and lips were moving along his skin as that sexily familiar voice murmured...

"Miguel, get your ass out of bed. We're due on the bridge in a few minutes, and I won't be making any excuses to Ford if you're late."

Miguel groaned again, pulling the material, a t-shirt, off his face. He guiltily watched his roommate pull on a clean shirt, having already changed into Wednesday's boxers, and hop into his uniform. The fact that the man rushing about before him had also been the star of the dream he'd just had was not lost on him.

"Don't worry, I'll be on time. I'm not the one who has to worry about being accosted by pushy teenagers looking for help on their newest projects."

"Oh no," Tim moaned, pausing while zipping up his uniform. "Which one is it this time?"

"It must be your lucky week, Tim, because this one's right up your alley. He's trying to boost the range of the communications buoys."

"Why don't we just lock him up for a while so we can get a little rest," Tim said as he pulled on his shoes.

"And how long would that be?"

"Oh, I think a month would be a good start." The two men grinned at each other. "I'll meet you on the bridge."

Only once the door was closed behind the commtech did Miguel risk getting out of his bunk. These morning were becoming nothing less than pure torture for the Cuban. It hadn't been enough when he'd reluctantly admitted to himself that he was attracted to his best friend, oh no. He had to spend every night dreaming about what he knew he'd never have, waking up in the mornings terrified that he'd unwittingly voiced his forbidden desires in his sleep.

Some days, he contemplated sitting the commtech down and revealing what he felt, reassuring the man that despite his attraction, he had no intention of pursuing it. Those thoughts tended to end with visions of Tim turning on him with shock and disgust, yelling about how he was going to Hell.

And thus Miguel did as he always did — waited for Tim to leave before rising from bed to relieve himself of his morning erection, allowing himself the indulgence of crying out his best friend's name as he came. This particular morning, he looked at the shirt he still held in his hands, realizing it was the one Tim had worn all night. He pressed it against his face, inhaling the fragrance that was Tim's and Tim's alone before going about his business.

Miguel quickly cleaned up and prepared for yet another day on the bridge.

* * *

Miguel managed to reach the bridge just as his shift was about to start. As he made his way to his station, he chanced a look at Tim to find his best friend throwing an evil grin in his direction, then holding up three fingers. He settled into his seat, checked the readouts from the WSKRs, then put on his headset and switched it to channel three.

"Just in the nick of time, huh Mig?"

"Don't look so smug. One of these days, the kid's gonna catch up to you before shift, and then we'll see who's laughing."

"Well, at least I'll have an excuse the Captain will be able to sympathize with."

Both men grinned at each other from across the bridge, then went back to their duties. They heard the Captain enter and move directly to Commander Ford's side.

"Commander, what's our ETA with the shuttle?"

"It should be popping up on our scans any moment now. Mr. Ortiz," Ford turned to the sensor chief, "have you picked up anything on the WSKRs yet?"

"Not yet Sir... Wait a minute, there it is. It just came into range, Sir."

"Excellent," the Captain commented. "Commander Ford, will you please go down to the Launch Bay and greet our visitor?"

"Yes, Sir."

Miguel watched the shuttle's approach via his WSKR readings. The seaQuest was on its way to yet another colony, one that was having unusual problems growing vegetation in an underwater environment and thus causing problems for the colony's food supplies. The shuttle's passenger was supposed to be an expert on the growth of various strains of grains and vegetables and would be traveling with seaQuest to the colony.

Once the shift was finally over, Miguel and Tim rose almost simultaneously to make way for their replacements, meeting at the back door to head to the Mess together for the traditional midday lunch complaints. As they stepped off the Maglev on their level, they nearly walked into two men walking down the corridor.

Miguel watched wide-eyed as the stranger next to Commander Ford gasped, took a step toward Tim, and lifted the commtech into a bear hug. He watched in further shock as Tim returned the embrace.

"Tim, I thought I'd never see you again!" the stranger exclaimed.

"Mitch, what are you doing here?"

The stranger let go of Tim, and Miguel was finally able to get his first good look at the man. His clothes couldn't hide his well-muscled physique borne of many years of manual labour and his dark skin was permanently tanned from many years out in the sun. His large calloused hands rested a moment on Tim's arms before falling to his sides. His long-ish sand-coloured hair had a tendency to fall into his grey eyes, no matter how often he blew it out of the way. From that one glance, Miguel knew he hated the man.

"Mr. O'Neill," Ford said, grinning at the rare display, "I presume you know our visitor?"

"Yes, Sir," Tim replied, his eyes never leaving the stranger.

"Tim and I knew each other a long time ago, Commander."

Much to Miguel's relief (Relief? When had he gotten so tense?), Tim finally turned away from the stranger to smile at Miguel.

"Mig, this is my old friend Michel Guerin. Mitch," Tim paused as he placed a hand on Miguel's shoulder, "this is my best friend, Miguel Ortiz."

Miguel hid his dislike of the stranger as he shook the proffered hand. In the next few moments, most of which Miguel barely remembered, Tim took over tour guide duties from Commander Ford and the Commander headed back to the bridge, eventually leaving a disoriented sensor chief standing alone in the middle of the corridor.

Somehow, Miguel managed to make his way to the Mess, reluctantly taking some inedible food to a table and sitting to eat, pleased to find none of his other friends anywhere nearby. As he shoveled food into his mouth without tasting it, he thought back to the encounter in the corridor.

He'd never before felt such inexplicable dislike for a person he'd just met, and the man seemed to be a perfectly nice human being. It was just that something about the man rubbed Miguel the wrong way. If he were completely honest with himself, it was the man's familiarity with Tim. Miguel had always been proud to be the person who knew his best friend better than anyone else, yet even he would never have dared to show such an obvious display of affection in full view of the crew.

Miguel's fork stabbed at his food as he thought of the hug the men had shared. There had been something almost... intimate in the way they knew each other. *Come on, Miguel,* he thought, *Tim did have a life before he met you. They probably grew up together.* However, he couldn't hold on to that thought. There was no way the man could have developed a physique like that growing up in the city like Tim did.

He threw his fork down onto his tray, no longer willing to even make an effort to eat. Putting his tray away, he decided he needed to get his mind off the situation before it drove him insane. He headed down the corridor and toward the gym to let off a little steam.

* * *

After his short workout, Miguel was relieved to find he'd worked himself up an appetite and decided to head back to the Mess before his next shift on the bridge. Tray in hand, he stepped into the main hall — only to stop and contemplate forgetting his meal altogether when he spotted Tim sitting at a table with ‘Mitch', Tony, Lucas, and Lonnie. Before he could make his decision, Tim had spotted him and was now motioning him over, his face beet red and eyes begging for assistance. Unable to resist the pleading look, he carried his tray over to the table and sat next to Tim.

"So, what have I missed?" Miguel asked, grinning at the relieved look on Tim's face.

"You just missed the best story, Ortiz," Tony popped in. "Mitch here was just tellin us about how the Lieutenant once destroyed an entire barn."

"A barn?"

"It's not as bad as it sounds," Tim broke in.

"Of course not," Guerin finished. "The *real* problems came when we were trying to rebuild it. Speaking of which, did you hear that Missy Brooks is now the Premier, eh?" The man smiled at the confused stares of the others and explained. "You see, Missy spent that entire summer trying to chase after Tim. She just wouldn't give up! And when we tried to rebuild the barn, she interrupted him every few minutes either trying to help, or to offer refreshments. Too bad for her that Tim wasn't interested in older women."

Miguel listened to the man speak, watching Tim grow redder at some stories, and roll his eyes and make corrections to others. Eventually, Miguel was able to piece together most of what he'd missed. When he was 17, Tim had spent the summer at his uncle's farm outside of Brandon, Manitoba. During that visit, he'd spent a lot of time with his older cousin Doug, who happened to be Michel Guerin's best friend at the time. With every story, Miguel saw a different side of Tim and wondered why he'd never heard them from his best friend.

"...and then," Guerin continued yet another story, "he jumps over the fence, only to land in a pool of mud and goes sliding for meters!"

"Hey, that's not as funny as it sounds," Tim defended himself to his laughing friends. "I could have been hurt."

"You weren't, now were you."

Miguel watched as Guerin smiled at Tim and placed a hand on the commtech's arm. Something about the way they smiled at each other turned his stomach and he had to look away. His eyes happened to turn to Lonnie, who was looking at the two men with an unusual expression, one Miguel couldn't quite read. Suddenly, her eyes were meeting his, cocking an eyebrow in a silent question. Miguel only looked confused, not knowing what she was asking, and quickly looked down at his watch for a distraction.

"Oh, Tim, we'd better go. It's almost time for our next shift."

The two men stood and nodded their friends farewell, Tim leaning over to whisper in Guerin's ear before catching up to Miguel at the door. As they popped into the Maglev, Tim couldn't stay quiet any longer.

"So, what'd you think of Mitch?"

"Umm, well," Miguel struggled for the right words, not wanting to disappoint his friend. "He seems really nice."

"Yeah, he hasn't changed a bit since I last saw him."

"How long ago was that?"

"Since that summer, say about nine, ten years."

"That's a long time for someone not to change."

"Yeah, I guess."

"Especially since you've changed so much just in the time we've known each other."

The two men smiled at each other. Miguel gave Tim a playful shove, then ducked out of the way as Tim tried to shove back just as the Maglev stopped at the Bridge.

Still smiling, they strode over to their respective posts.

* * *

Much to Miguel's disappointment, Tim rushed off the bridge the moment their shift was over. He walked down the ship's corridors with no particular destination, trying to think through the puzzle his life had suddenly become. Why was he so angry at somebody he'd only just met? It wasn't as if the man was a threat to his friendship with Tim, and after all, ‘Mitch' would only be on board for a few days.

*A few days too many,* he couldn't help but think.

His face unconsciously tightened as he worked through his muddled thoughts. Everything had been fine until that hug in the corridor. And then there was the way they had acted in the Mess. It was almost as if...

"Give me a break," he muttered to himself. The idea was preposterous. This was Tim he was thinking about, not anyone else. Tim was special, unique... untouchable. This was the man Miguel had longed after for far too long, comforting himself with the fact that his silence meant that there was still a friendship to hold on to.

And if he was wrong? If there *was* something more to the men's relationship...

He shivered. *Nope, never gonna happen.* Tim wasn't like that. That was why Miguel had tortured himself day after day, night after night. Otherwise, it would mean he had wasted all this time for nothing, and that was something he didn't think he could accept.

Still lost in thought, he didn't see Lonnie standing in his path until he'd nearly run her down.

"Miguel! Hey! What are you doing here?"

The Cuban's eyes settled on his friend, and he couldn't help but notice she was a little agitated. She looked almost as if she was hiding something... He shook the thought from his head.

"I'm just taking a walk, doing some thinking."

"Oh, yeah. It's been a weird day, huh?" Miguel nodded. "You know, I just got this great CD — maybe you'd like to come listen to it."

Miguel managed a small smile. "Not right now, but thanks anyway. I just need to clear my head a little."

He tried to maneuver past her but she moved into his path. "Are you sure, Miguel? How about some poker?"

"No, thanks. I'd like to head off now, if it's alright with you."

"But Miguel, how about..." She was stuck for words. Her hands waved as she tried to think of something to say, her actions confirming his suspicions that she was hiding something. For some reason, she didn't want him continuing down the corridor, which made him all the more determined to go.

With a frown, he broke around her and trotted down the hall and around a corner...

Only to stop in his tracks. He felt as if his heart had stopped. Miguel tried to look away but couldn't tear his eyes from the sight before him. He began to feel the growing pain in his chest as he watched those large, calloused hands cupping his best friend's face, pulling him out of the corridor and into one of seaQuest's guest quarters, all while the two men's lips danced in a way that was obviously familiar to both of them.

As the men disappeared from sight, he coughed as he felt his breath return to his lungs. He desperately tried to find some clue to cling to that this had all been some sort of nightmare, yet any hope vanished the moment a slender hand rested on his shoulder.

"I'm so sorry, Miguel. I didn't want you to have to see that."

He turned on Lonnie, not wanting to take out his anger on her, yet unable to keep the venom from his voice. "What do you know?"

She pulled her hand back as if she'd been bitten. "Nothing but what I saw with my own eyes. I'd always wondered why Tim had been so mean that night, like he was purposefully pushing me away. Now I know the truth."

"Yeah," Miguel replied, pushing his way past her. "I guess we both do."

"Miguel!" He paused and turned to face her again. "Don't push him away. He's so lonely, and the person he really loves is too clueless to notice."

He sneered and stalked back off down the hall, too angry to think of anything but his own foolishness.

* * *

Miguel spent some time stalking around the ship, but that didn't help to cool his temper. He tried working out in the gym, but that didn't work either. He'd even taken a page from Tim and Lucas' book and gone for a swim with Darwin, but he remained as agitated as he'd been back in the hallway by the guest quarters.

He was too upset to talk to any of his friends, yet that left him with no choice but to go back to the room he shared with Tim. He resignedly stalked back to his room, pushed the door open and slammed it shut, pulling his shirt off and angrily throwing it against the wall.

"Mig, are you okay?"

Miguel jumped at the sound of his roommate's voice. He turned, chest heaving and breathing rapidly, to face the person who meant the most to him in the world. His anger evaporated when he caught sight of the naked face of his seated best friend and his tear-stained cheeks.

"I-I'm fine. God, Tim, are you all right?" As he watched Tim's arms tighten around his folded knees, scenarios ran through his mind. Miguel could feel his anger returning, however for an altogether different reason. "He didn't hurt you, did he? If he did, I'm gonna..."

"No, no Mig. He..." Tim's eyes met Miguel's as realization dawned. "You know, don't you."

Miguel nodded. "I was taking a walk down the corridors earlier, and I, um, passed by his room..."

Tim's eyes closed tightly as his head dropped. "Please, don't hate me Mig."

Miguel was dumbfounded. Hate Tim? Why on Earth would he hate his best friend, his one link to sanity in this insane world? He knelt beside the bed and gently laid his hands on Tim's knees.

"I could never hate you, Tim. Why would you even think that?"

Tim took a deep breath, then his eyes rose to see the sincerity in Miguel's expression. "I know that my family has prejudices about this ‘side' of myself, and that's why I haven't told them about it. I-I didn't know whether you felt like they do. I was so scared, I thought that if you found out..."

"Tim," Miguel kept his eyes locked with his friend's as his hands unconsciously rubbed the commtech's knees, "nothing in the world could get in the way of our friendship, you got that? We've been friends far too long, and we've gone through too much shit to let anything come between us."

Tim's legs dropped down to the floor as he leaned forward and wrapped his arms around Miguel's neck, clinging to him tightly as his body slid off the bunk. Miguel's arms held Tim close, giving him the comfort he needed, trying not to lose himself in the realization that Tim was now practically sitting in his lap.

"What happened?" Miguel murmured near Tim's ear.

Tim relaxed against Miguel as he spoke. "Mitch and I were very ‘close' that summer. He was my, um, first — you know."

Miguel smiled against Tim's neck. "Yeah, that's not exactly something you forget easily, is it."

"No, and I never want to. He was wonderful, so patient, and he taught me so much. And seeing him again, it just brought everything back, and it was so obvious that he remembered too."

"And so you went to him."

Tim nodded against his shoulder. "I don't know what I was thinking. He kissed me, and I felt like I was seventeen again. But after the feeling wore off, I realized that I didn't love him, I never have, and I wasn't ready to settle for anything less than that. So, I left."

Miguel's arms squeezed Tim comfortingly. "You did the right thing."

"I know," Tim squeezed back, "I just hope I didn't hurt him."

Miguel chuckled and pulled away from Tim to look into his eyes. "I'm sure he'll be fine."

"Why are you laughing?"

"Because you keep amazing me. You've gone through so much in the last day, and you're still worried about someone else's feelings. That's just another reason why I love you."

"I love you too, Mig," Tim said as he pulled Miguel into another hug.

He held Tim tightly, wishing those words meant more than the friendly endearments they always spoke to each other. This time, it was Tim who pulled back to smile at his friend, and for the first time, Miguel looked for some sign in the chocolate-coloured eyes that Tim might feel the same way he did. He gasped as he found it.

His insides quivering in fear, he gently moved his face closer to Tim's, watching for the man's reaction as his lips sought out and finally touched those of his best friend. The eyes that looked back at him were filled with a mixture of fear and joy, and they closed as Miguel's lips moved against his. Miguel's own eyelids fluttered shut as Tim responded, their arms shifting their grips on each other's bodies. When Tim's lips parted, allowing a curious tongue to brush along Miguel's skin, he let out a low groan in his throat before moving his own mouth to capture it.

The two men remained kneeling for a while, their lips and tongues exploring each other for the first time. They memorized every touch, every sensation, every shiver they provoked in the other's body.

The tiny universe they'd created for themselves, however, was invaded by an insistent knocking at the door. Tim couldn't help groaning into Miguel's mouth before their lips separated.

"We're not home," Miguel whispered, provoking a giggle from his friend. As their lips sought each other out again, the knocking returned, accompanied by an equally insistent voice.

"Tim, I know you're in there! Come on, open up! Bridger said you could take some time off to help me with this new experiment!"

Their foreheads leaned against each other in exasperation. "You were right, Tim. We should have locked him up for a month."

"Maybe two."

Both men reluctantly rose from the floor and Tim immediately headed for the mirror to straighten himself up a little. The commtech stepped over to his bunk to retrieve his forgotten glasses before he answered the door. Miguel watched him as he followed Lucas out into the corridor, leaving Miguel with a gentle smile and a wink before disappearing behind the teenager.

Miguel rose from the floor and looked at himself in the mirror and couldn't remember a time he'd looked as happy as he did at that moment. With a wistful smile, he turned for his bunk to make an attempt at sleep.

* * *

Miguel took a deep breath, taking a look around the quarters he shared with Tim and making certain everything was perfect. There were a handful of miniature lights placed strategically around the room (the best he could do since candles weren't allowed on submarines), a bunch of flowers appropriated from the arboretum sat in a glass bowl (the closest thing he could find to a vase), and with the main light out, the atmosphere was complete. He quickly pulled off the last of his clothing, hiding it away in the hamper, and laid down on the bunk directly opposite the door.

He waited. He'd been planning this night ever since he'd fulfilled his greatest desire and kissed his best friend. It had been a week, and although it would be a long time before the next shore leave, he wasn't going to let that stop him from arranging a romantic evening for the man he loved. SeaQuest had dropped off its passenger a day earlier, and Miguel openly admitted he was glad to see the man go — he knew Guerin posed no real threat to his budding relationship with Tim, but that didn't make his presence on the ship any less awkward.

He'd been waiting impatiently all week for a chance to spend some time alone with Tim. Between regular duty shifts and Lucas' new experiment, the only times they'd seen each other had been in the Mess with the rest of their friends.

Tonight, however, would be different. Tim would arrive at any moment, and he and Miguel would make love for the first time.

He closed his eyes and thought up one of his favourite fantasies. He would have Tim naked and tied down to a bunk with leather belts. Miguel would take his time touching, kissing, and nipping at every inch of flesh until the slim body was writhing beneath him. As the fantasy played out in his mind, his hand absently strayed to his slowly hardening cock. His thumb rubbed along the head as he imagined Tim straining against his bonds, begging to be fucked. His fingers circled the shaft as he pictured himself thrusting into Tim's willing body, his hand pumping in time to his imagined strokes.

His eyes slowly blinked open as he became aware of another presence in the room. He'd become so lost in his fantasy that he hadn't heard Tim enter. He grinned as he took in his best friend's lust-glazed eyes, running his fingers along his cock for show and relishing the way Tim's tongue flickered out to whet his lips.

"You, um, started without me?"

"I got to thinking of you, and I couldn't resist," he replied, pulling his hand away from himself and holding out the other to Tim.

"Well, then that's okay," Tim grinned. Much to Miguel's surprise, the commtech slowly pulled down the zipper on his uniform and started stripping out of his clothes. Miguel simply remained on the bunk, his eyes following every move Tim made, growing harder with every inch of flesh that was uncovered.

Finally, Tim's naked body shyly approached the bunk and leaned over his friend. Their lips came together as he sunk onto Miguel, their bodies tingling wherever their skin met. Miguel's hands slid along Tim's waist, moving to run along the muscles of his back as Tim's hands tangled in Miguel's long hair.

One of Tim's thighs insinuated itself between both of Miguel's and their cocks brushed together for the first time. Both men gasped, their lips working harder to devour as much of the other as possible. One of Tim's hands strayed down Miguel's chest, tracing along various muscles and moving to tease a pebbled nipple. The Cuban decided revenge was needed, and he rolled them over onto their sides, entwining their legs so that he too pressed a thigh intimately against Tim. His hands shifted from Tim's waist down to his ass, pulling their bodies even closer.

All sense of reason and reality had left his light head the moment Tim had arrived. As Tim's lips moved along his chin to caress an ear, he wondered at the feel of Tim's skin against his. This was what he'd wanted, needed for so long, and there had always been only one person who could do this for him. He lifted his hands to cup Tim's face, took his lips in a passionate caress before pulling back to look into his eyes.

"I love you, so much."

Tim's eyes watered slightly as a grin lit his face. He kissed Miguel again before replying. "I know. Je t'aime du fond de mon coeur."

"Meaning?" Miguel raised an eyebrow, knowing Tim often felt more at ease expressing himself in any language but English.

"I love you from the heart of my bottom."

A giggle burst from Miguel's lips, only to be stifled by another kiss from Tim. Any urgency they had felt earlier dissipated and they luxuriated in each other's touch. They moved again, and Miguel's body now pressed Tim into the mattress. Slender fingers held Miguel's face away from Tim's so that their eyes could meet.

"There has always been some kind of bond between us, Mig, a connection we never understood." Miguel nodded. "That's what I want right now, to feel connected, with you."

After a moment or two, Miguel's eyes widened in comprehension. Before he could voice any doubt or uncertainty, Tim pulled him down into another kiss.

"Please?"

Miguel could deny him nothing, no matter what his reservations were. He'd never made love to a man before and the thought of it scared him to death, but for Tim he would do anything.

"Whatever you want, Tim. But I'm kinda new to this."

"No problem. Go look in my top drawer and get out the tube I keep there."

Miguel nodded and reluctantly rose from the bunk, wondering if Tim felt his absence as much as he felt that of Tim's skin against his own. He opened the drawer and sorted through the various pairs of boxers and briefs, stopping when a pair caught his eye. He turned around and held the bright red briefs between his hands, displaying them for Tim with a quirked eyebrow. "And what day are these for?"

"Umm, Friday," Tim said, blushing furiously.

"Hmm," Miguel murmured as he turned back for the drawer, folding the briefs and putting them back in their place. "Can't wait till then. Ah, here it is." He pulled out the tube, closed the drawer, and turned around to return to the bunk.

His eyes took in the sight of Tim, body unselfconsciously displayed for his benefit, and he felt as if he were falling in love all over again. He sat down on the edge of the bunk and lifted a hand to trace the features of Tim's face. A leg snaked its way around his waist and he was pulled further up onto the bunk, the other leg joining the first in circling his waist possessively. He leaned up to place an almost chaste kiss upon Tim's lips before finally remembering the tube in his hand. He leaned back, the legs around him loosening to give him room to move, and spread some of the cool gel over his fingers, rubbing it between them to warm it up.

Tim and Miguel's eyes met as the Cuban's hand found it's way to the entrance to Tim's body. Tim gasped as the slick fingers touched his sensitive skin, his eyes growing darker with desire. Miguel slowly massaged and finally pushed into Tim, desperately wishing he could feel what his friend felt. His fingers moved until Tim was sufficiently relaxed and telling Miguel to go ahead.

Miguel moved up over Tim, capturing his best friends' lips once more before positioning his cock to enter Tim's body. He slowly pushed in until he was completely enveloped, then he settled his weight onto Tim. Two legs once again wrapped tightly around his waist as slim fingers pulled their faces together for a kiss. He was aware of nothing in the world but the body beneath him and the comforting feeling of possession, never quite figuring out if he was the possessor or the possessed.

They remained immobile, reveling in their connection with the other, their breathing slowing down to an almost synchronous rhythm. The only movements they made were the intimate touches of their hands and the gentle caresses of their lips. Finally, Tim's legs moved to pull Miguel's hips closer in silent demand. Miguel rose onto his arms, eyes locked with Tim's as he slowly began pulling out and pushing back in, instinctively seeking out a rhythm they could both follow. It wasn't long before Miguel could no longer keep his release at bay, his thrusts growing wilder as he approached and fell over the edge. He collapsed into Tim's arms, the tender hands stroking him as aftershocks passed through his trembling body.

"Mi amor," Tim whispered into Miguel's matted hair. "Cvetik moy."

Miguel's face rose groggily to meet Tim's smiling eyes. He placed a tender kiss on the man's lips before gathering the strength to speak.

"One of these days, I'm going to have to teach you how to speak English."

Tim lightly smacked the back of his head as he giggled. He shifted his body so that his spent cock slid out of his lover, then settled on the bunk next to him, keeping an arm and a leg around Tim to keep him close. His face nestled into the curve of Tim's neck as his leg tried to find a comfortable position, only to stop when it brushed against something warm and solid.

"God, Tim, I'm such a bastard," Miguel moaned as his head lifted.

"Shhh," Tim whispered, smiling up at him. He took Miguel's hand in his and brought it up to his lips. He placed a kiss on the pad of every finger before bringing his lips back to Miguel's as his hand led his lover's down his body to where his cock demanded attention.

Miguel's fingers wrapped around the heated flesh, slowly moving up and down the shaft in time to the strokes of his tongue within Tim's mouth. Within moments, Tim was left quivering and sated beneath Miguel.

Miguel's hand slid up to cup Tim's neck as their lips met again, expressing their love for each other through the touch of their lips as Tim's fingers wrapped themselves in his hair.

Their passion exhausted, they made themselves comfortable on the bunk in each other's arms. As Miguel listened to the beating of Tim's heart beneath his ear, he knew there was nowhere he'd rather be than lying here, dreaming next to his lover. He wanted to pray to God that he and Tim could stay like that forever, but he knew that forever would never be long enough.

He closed his eyes, forgetting about all the tomorrows and yesterdays, conscious of nothing but the skin beneath his and the breathing of the life that meant more to him than his own.

*I wonder how I can convince Tim that every day's Friday.*

The End.