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Disclaimer time once again!   One hundred and seventh 
verse same as the first . . . everybody *sing*:

I don't own these characters, (chorus) Paramount does!
I don't own this venue, (chorus) Paramount does!
I am making no money off of this, (chorus) Paramount does 
not either!

This story involves sex between two men, aka: slash.  If that 
is *not* your cup of tea, sweet as it is, then don't read it! 
(simple, ain't it??) Feedback is *very* much appreciated, 
and always answered.  Flames will be passed around to 
friends and chuckled over.  :)

'Actions' by Amirin <groh@iquest.net>


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They watched as Tom opened his eyes and rolled over, only 
to be brought up short by Harry at his side.  Blue eyes 
communicated silently with brown until a voice from the 
darkness wrested their attention from one another.

"Okay, they're awake.  Now what?"

A heavy sigh was heard and the answering voice was 
somewhat impatient.

"Now, we have them . . . get on with the reason we brought 
them here."

"Fine, fine. Okay.  No problem," the first voice replied with 
shaky nonchalance.  "You go first." 

"Oh, for crying out loud," the softer voice of the two 
muttered, beginning to think this wasn't such a great idea 
after all.  "Tom, move the sheets aside.  I want you to look at 
Harry."

"Wait just a damned minute, here," the first voice sputtered 
indignantly. "Who said *you* got Tom?"

Another sigh was heard from the darkness surrounding the 
brightly lit bed the two naked men were on.  "Well, if you 
want Tom, then get on with it, already."

"Why do I have to go first?" the more strident of the two 
protested.

"Because Tom *always* makes the first move, that's why," 
the second voice answered with extreme sarcasm, before a 
deep breath was taken and a small smile, given.  "Like white 
in chess, okay?"

"Okay, okay.  I'll go first." A pause for thought stilled the 
action for a moment. "All right.  I've got it.  Tom?"  The blond 
man looked up from his spot on the bed with a bored grin on 
his face.  "I want you to do what you were just told to do," 
the first voice instructed before a snort was heard.  "Oh, 
*that* was original, thank you.  Very good," the softer voice 
mocked, while applauding quietly.

"Fine," the first voice groaned.  "You get Tom.  I'll take 
Harry."

"As it should be," the soft voice murmured, ignoring the 
meaningful look the comment caused.  "Tom?  Go ahead, 
pull the sheets back," and a faint sigh was uttered by the 
first watcher as the golden body was exposed on the bed. 
"Problems?"

"No, no, of course not," the first said hurriedly.

"Then, what's the matter, *now*?"

"*Nothing*.  I'm just . . . taking in the, uh, scenery.  That's 
all."

The figure smiled.  "Really?" 

"Yeah.  Sure.  I mean, Har's . . . you know . . . nice looking."

The smile grew wider.  "So's Tom."  The two watchers 
moved a little closer and studied the scene before them, 
together.  "Tom, I want you to stroke Harry's back.  Just use 
your fingertips.  That's it; just like that.  Harry likes long, slow 
strokes."

"He does?" the first voice asked quietly.  "I'll have to 
remember that. Hmmmm.  Harry, move closer to Tom. 
Close enough that you can feel the heat coming off his 
body."

"There's heat?" the second voice murmured.

"Oh, hell, *yes*, there's heat." 

"Interesting."  Another pause for thought.  "Tom, kiss Harry. 
Slowly.  *Very* slowly."

A throat clears.  "Slowly is good.  Yeah, it sure is."

A nod.  "Slowly is *very* good."

"Harry, put your arms around Tom.  That's it.  One around 
his waist and the other around his shoulders.  Perfect."

"I love those shoulders," the soft voice murmured in a 
contented sigh.

"Hold him close, Harry.  He loves to be held." 

"Cuddled, too?"

"Oh, yes.  Most definitely cuddled, too."

"That's so nice to know," the second voice exhaled on a 
sigh.

A smile seen, then heard. "You should have Tom run his 
fingers through Harry's hair," the first voice suggested.

"You think so?"

"Oh, yeah.  You know he wants to.  I mean, we're talking 
about a man with a hell of a sense of touch, here." 

"Tactilely oriented, huh?" 

"Very."

"I'll keep that in mind," the owner of the soft voice 
commented with a grin.

"They're still kissing," the first watcher reminded.

"Right.  Tom, wrap your arms around Harry.  Hold his head 
right where you want it.  Let your fingers move through his 
hair."

"Ohhh, thank you."

"You're very welcome," the second voice chuckled.  "Tom, 
ease away a little, just enough to let you nuzzle Harry's 
neck.  And soft bites are fine."

"Harry likes being bitten?" a stunned voice asked.

"Oh, yes."

"Ohhh, god."

"So, tell me. What else does Tom like?"

"He, uh . . . he likes being licked."

"Where?" a whispered query.

"Uhh, wellll . . ."

"Tell me. Where?"

"His nipples.  Bites are okay, there, too.  But not *too* hard." 

"Tell Harry.  Have him do it."

A choked voice gave the command and both watchers 
groaned when the naked blond on the bed did as well, back 
arching under Harry's mouth. The soft-voiced observer 
recovered first. 

"Gods, he's responsive."

"Only to pleasure," the first voice warned.

"Pain has no place here," the owner of the second voice 
reassured.  

"So."  The strangled word prompted a throat-clearing. 
"What else does Harry like?"

The murmured reply was too soft to hear. 

"Come on, it's okay.  If you can't tell me, then tell Tom."

The second observer approached the bed silently, the 
command given wasn't much louder.  The first one watched 
in awe as Tom moved slowly down the bed, kissing Harry's 
body on the way to his cock, which he took into his mouth 
and worshipped.  The first bit back a moan as the second 
returned, eyes still riveted to the two men pleasuring each 
other on the bed.

"Harry likes being sucked," the first breathed.  A tight nod 
from the second was the only reply.  "Tom likes it, too."  

The second figure's head shot up as the first walked over to 
the bed and an instant later, the two men were rearranging 
themselves, each now able to thrust gently into the other's 
mouth. 

"Wow," both watchers murmured in unison, then looked at 
one another.

"Another suggestion?" the first offered hesitantly.  "Please?"

A raised eyebrow was the silent reply.

"Have Harry fuck him."

A startled breath whooshed out of the soft-voiced watcher. 
"I thought you'd want Tom to fuck Harry," the second 
frowned, moving closer.

"I do.  Eventually," lips were licked quickly as eyes focused 
on the floor. "But, I really want to see how Harry would be 
with him." 

"How do you *want* Harry to be with him?" the soft voice 
asked, hand resting on the other's back.

"I want tenderness," the first one voiced on a shaky whisper. 
"And I want passion.  I want it gentle and hard and hot and 
fast . . ."

"And you want to see it . . ."

"I *need* to see it.  I need to know . . ."

"Okay.  You got it."  And the second headed over to the bed 
again while the first saw the movements still, then the 
gradual shift of bodies until Tom was on his hands and 
knees and Harry was laying across his back, carefully 
preparing him, murmuring soft words into his ear.  The 
second watcher walked backward until the first groaned and 
they both stood still as Harry drove himself slowly into Tom's 
body and the blond man's back arched, a cry torn from his 
throat.

"Is that how you wanted it . . .?" the soft voice murmured, 
watching the first carefully.

"Yeah," the first one whispered, eyes still on the scene 
before them.

"He's beautiful," the second figure murmured breathlessly as 
a powerful thrust from Harry drove Tom to his elbows.

"Harry?  Magnificent . . ."

"I meant Tom."

"No . . ."

"Oh, yes.  He's beautiful," the soft voice caressed the first as 
a warm hand stroked a stiff back.  "Look at him, lost in 
pleasure.  Watch his face tighten, the way his body moves, 
look.  See how easy he makes it for Harry to take him, fuck 
him. Love him. So easy."

"He doesn't look like that," the first said with derision.

"The *hell* he doesn't!" the second one's soft voice wasn't 
so soft anymore and the first looked back, startled, through 
tear-filled eyes.

"Maybe . . . Maybe it's Harry," the first mumbled, the quiet 
comment offered cautiously.  "Maybe *he's* the reason Tom 
looks so . . ."

"Beautiful," the second finished and dredged up a grin, 
coupled with a sigh.  "Gods, look at them.  They're perfect 
together."

"Yeah, they are," the first one agreed and joined the second 
in a sigh, before inching away.  "I guess we found out what 
we wanted to know."  A firm hand halted the movement.

"Not just yet," a nod forward brought the eyes of the first one 
back to the two men still locked together in passion, which 
was quickly reaching its crescendo as their joined voices 
raised in ecstasy and completion.  Tom collapsed and took 
Harry with him and the two watchers simply watched as the 
men curled around one another and touched and caressed 
in languid silence, their gentle movements interrupted only 
by tender kisses.

"I wanted to let them finish," the second shrugged, coaxing a 
tremulous smile from the first. "Computer, delete 
holocharacters," the soft voice commanded and Tom and 
Harry vanished from sight, the sheets still twisted and 
tangled.

"Was this a good idea?" the first one voiced quietly, relieved 
beyond measure as the second nodded and moved closer.

The second watcher smiled and took his companion's hand 
and brought it to his hair, where it immediately began 
playing with the black strands.  "It was a great idea, Tom."


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