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Disclaimer time once again!   Fortieth 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.  :)

This is the sequel to 'Adversaries', 'Allies', 
'Acknowledgement', 'Argument', 'Advantage', 'Attrition', 
'Awakened', 'Assertiveness', and 'Absolution'.  <whew>

'Adored' by Amirin


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Hot water ran steaming over Harry's back and shoulders and 
he sighed, letting it wash away the day's tension.  Damn, he 
was tired of jefferies tubes, tired of maintenance, tired of 
being gritty and grimy ten minutes after starting his duty shift. 
But, he didn't have to deal with it any more today.  All he had 
to worry about at that moment was whether Tom would get 
there in time to prevent him from taking matters into his own 
hands.  Harry sighed again, wondering if he should just go 
ahead and do it when a faintly cool breeze hitting his back 
made him shiver.  He was gently moved out of the way of the 
shower spray by strong hands and he couldn't help smiling.

"Hoped you'd get here, soon," he murmured, as a long, tall 
body slid into place behind his own.

"Thanks for not starting without me," Tom whispered back.

"Like you'd have ever let me hear the end of it, if I had," 
Harry retorted with a laugh which changed into a groan as 
those wonderful hands began working their magic on him. 

"Relax, Harry," Tom's voice caressed his ear as he leaned 
back against the warm, solid wall of flesh. "Let me take care 
of everything."

Harry 'Mmmmm'ed his appreciation and melted, feeling 
those talented fingers moving carefully, precisely, over him, 
the soft, rich lather easing their way.

"I *love* this," Tom said quietly, supporting Harry's weight 
easily.  "It's one of my favorite things to do for you."

"Me, too," Harry mumbled as though half-asleep and Tom 
grinned, trying not to disturb his lover by laughing.

Harry noticed the slight tremors of laughter through Tom's 
chest, though, and moved his head slightly on one strong 
shoulder so he could look up into the smiling gaze of the one 
he adored.

"What's so funny?" he asked.

"You," Tom said softly.  "You're gonna be on the floor in a 
minute if I keep this up."

Harry snorted, blinking, as one careful hand wiped the suds 
off his forehead, keeping them away from his eyes.  "What is 
it about my *hair*, anyway?"

Tom shook his head, heaving a sigh of his own.  "I dunno, 
Harry," he confessed, looking at the black hairs flowing 
through his fingers as he washed the shampoo out of them, 
before he grinned.  "But I'd do this ten times a day, if you'd 
let me." 

Harry chuckled, dropping a kiss on Tom's neck as his head 
was lifted and turned until all the lather was rinsed away.

"I wouldn't have any hair left to wash, after a few months of 
that," he said with a grin.

"You'll have hair like this on the day you die, my Love," Tom 
said quietly, kissing his temple.  "It might be a little grayer, 
but it's not going anywhere. It's a good thing you're not the 
one with the hair fetish, considering how fast I'm losing 
mine," he joked, making Harry snort.

"I love playing with your hair, at night, before we go to sleep," 
Harry reminded him. 

"You playing with my hair usually *puts* me to sleep," Tom 
corrected with a smile as he wrapped his arms around the 
beautiful golden body before him, pulling Harry back against 
his chest.  "Enjoy it while you can, I'm goin' bald," the pilot 
declared with a martyred sigh and Harry grinned over his 
shoulder.

"You'd still be gorgeous if you went bald *tomorrow*, it's 
disgusting," Harry groused playfully, before turning around in 
the warm embrace to face his lover, cocking his head 
thoughtfully at him. "It'd be a good look on you, though, very 
Deltan."

Tom grinned.  "Never knew you had a thing for Deltans, 
Har."

"Doesn't everyone?"

Harry was only able to keep his face straight until the instant 
Tom laughed, then he lost it.

"Let's get out of here before we both melt," Tom suggested 
and followed his lover out of the shower.  He carefully 
propped him up against the wall and knelt, briskly drying 
Harry's legs off, his touch gentle, yet almost impersonal. 
Harry frowned and Tom froze when he saw it as he looked 
up with a faint grin, checking to make sure Harry was still 
awake.

"What's wrong?" Tom asked, standing up and looking 
worriedly at his lover.

"Usually, you take as long drying me as you do washing me," 
Harry said, turning slightly to allow Tom to towel off the rest 
of him. 

"That's because I'm usually trying to start something," Tom 
admitted shamelessly, quickly dragging the now-damp towel 
over his own body, then tossing it aside.

"But you're not, now?"

Tom blinked.  "Harry, you're exhausted.  I didn't think you 
were up for anything."

"You thought wrong," Harry said quietly.  "I'm always up for 
you."  Said with a soft smile.

Tom grinned in reply.  "If you fall asleep during sex, I'll be 
extremely put out, just so you know," he informed Harry, 
placing a light kiss on that perfect mouth. 

"Speaking of putting out . . ." Harry shot back with a groan 
when Tom's tongue made a hot journey along his throat until 
it found his ear.  "Bed."

"You're so demanding," Tom complained with a soft smile, 
as he steered his lover into the bedroom.

"Got a problem with that?" Harry glared at him through black 
eyebrows, a nearly-dangerous look that, combined with the 
hair falling over his forehead and into his eyes, always got 
Tom's heart beating faster.

"Not even remotely," Tom whispered right before Harry 
claimed his mouth, passion and longing adding a fiercely 
sweet flavor to the intoxicating kiss.

Harry fell backward, pulling Tom down on top of him, kissing 
him like he'd been without those lips on his for weeks.  "Bad 
news, we're gonna need another shower," he groaned aloud 
when a hot mouth attached itself to his neck.

"Good news, sex immediately after showering together 
means we don't have to deal with getting naked," Tom 
retorted softly, wrapping his long legs around his lover.

"Bad news, we use more hot water than any ten people on 
this ship."

"Good news, I can always win more rations at pool."

"Bad news, there's someone on this ship who's getting to be 
almost as good at pool as you are."

"Good news, he's my lover."

"Yeah, that's very good news, isn't it?"

"Best I've had in ages."

"The news or the lover?"

Tom pulled back, but didn't let go of Harry.  "Not quite a fair 
question, Har.  Chakotay and I weren't together anywhere 
near as long as you and I have been."

Harry looked contrite.  "I know, Tom, I'm sorry.  I didn't mean 
for you to have to compare the two of us."

Tom nodded, brushing Harry's hair back off his forehead. 
"It's okay.  You're totally different, anyway.  There'd be no 
point in comparing anything."

Harry just nodded and burrowed deeper into Tom's arms, 
sighing in contentment as they moved around him, holding 
him near.

"Would you rather just snuggle?" Tom asked, lips brushing 
over Harry's ear.

"No," Harry murmured.  "I'm too turned-on to 'just snuggle'," 
he said softly as his hands roamed lightly over his lover's 
chest.  He turned his head slightly and rubbed his nose over 
one of Tom's nipples and smiled at the quiet sigh he heard.

"Nice," Tom murmured, right before a hot tongue caressed 
him and warm breath blew over him. He shivered slightly and 
chuckled.  "*Very* nice."

"There's a lot to be said for soft sex," Harry whispered with a 
smile, fingers coasting along Tom's arm to hold his hand. 
Tom slid his fingertips over Harry's, carefully skimmed over 
the palm, then traveled slowly up the wrist, then the arm, 
following each tendon and muscle until he reached the 
strong shoulder, warm skin like satin under his touch.  A 
gentle hand tilted his face up and he met Harry's tender gaze 
with one of his own.  The kisses that followed weren't 
earth-shattering, but they overwhelmed him, anyway.

"I love you," he said softly and felt Harry smile against his 
lips.

"I love you, too," Harry answered, moving from sweet mouth 
to long neck to soft cheek, lips caressing Tom as his fingers 
might until the man's sigh deepened slightly into a moan. 

An arm stretched to open the drawer in the table next to the 
bed and the nearly-empty tube was quickly snagged, then 
popped open.  His fingers were covered an instant later and 
he kissed Tom again, while slowly seeking out the hot 
channel.  Tom's long, low groan when they found it brought a 
grin to his face and he chuckled into the side of his lover's 
throat.  He kept the invasion to one finger and soon Tom was 
moving slowly against him, gently fucking himself on it, light 
sheen of perspiration on the pale skin making him glow in 
the dim light.  One finger became two and Tom was writhing 
under him, muscles tensing, breathing quickening.

"Harry," Tom choked out, drawing his legs upward to let his 
love settle between them.  "Harry."

Harry smiled softly at the number of things Tom could 
convey just by saying his name.  Now.  Please.  More.  I love 
you.

Long fingers curled into his hair and tugged his head 
downward for a kiss and he went, unresisting, letting Tom 
echo with his tongue his own actions with his fingers. 
Grabbing the tube, he used the last of it on his erection, hard 
and dark with arousal.  Moving slowly, the smooth, gradual 
switch from fingers to cock went almost unnoticed by his 
lover as he entered Tom, short, gentle thrusts burying his 
length inside the man in no time.

"That's me in you," he moaned softly, watching Tom arch 
beneath him as his long legs settled over and around Harry. 
Short thrusts grew longer, and even slower, so slow that 
Tom ran out of breath to groan with before each was 
completed.

"Harry," Tom whispered on a shaky breath and Harry smiled, 
kissing him quickly.  That one meant 'faster'.

He sped up slightly, but didn't shorten his strokes, and let his 
body sink into the warm welcome of Tom's on each thrust. 
Tom tightened around him, pulling a groan from his own lips, 
which was captured when the pilot kissed him, hands 
roaming all over his body.  The pace quickened, then again, 
then again and soon Harry was moving with steady force in 
and out of his lover.  Hot muscle clamped around him once 
more and he moved his hand to Tom's hardness, knowing 
his love was close to completion.  Long strokes of his fingers 
kept pace with his thrusts into Tom and soon the man was 
arching up into him constantly, the litany of his name 
becoming a warning, a plea, a curse, then, finally, a 
surrender when Tom came, tensed and hot and glorious, 
overflowing Harry's fingers an instant before Harry filled his 
body, crying out in a choked wail, until he lay spent and 
empty and sated, at Tom's side.

Tom turned his head just a bit, just enough to see Harry next 
to him, arm flung possessively over Tom's stomach, head 
resting on his shoulder.  He smiled into eyes liked melted 
chocolate, and gently brushed Harry's nose with his own, 
raised his hand to move black hair out of the way, then let it 
rest on his lover's back, fingers lightly stroking sweat-slicked 
skin.

Harry dropped a kiss on Tom's nose, then another on his 
lips, one on his cheek, then on his chin, and finally on his 
forehead, before stilling.  A slight shiver caught his attention 
and he lifted his head with a groan to see where the covers 
had gotten to, found them, and tugged them over their 
rapidly-cooling bodies.

"Thanks," Tom murmured, turning slightly to bring himself up 
alongside Harry for warmth and connection.

Harry shifted a little, to let Tom settle around him and smiled 
into tired, blue eyes.  "You're welcome," he whispered back, 
kissing a salty, cool shoulder.  "Love you, Tom."

"Love you, too, Har."


                       <<<<<<<<<<>>>>>>>>>>


Tom let Harry practice his clarinet while he got dinner ready, 
replicating enough for two people, and then some.  He 
tightened the belt on his robe and grinned over at Harry, still 
sitting on the couch and still naked from their second shower 
of the evening.

Harry tried to concentrate on his playing, but his lover's gaze 
on him was way too distracting.  He caught Tom's slight 
wince as he hit a wrong note and put the instrument down.

"Sorry," he apologized automatically, as he always did, and 
Tom laughed.

"It's okay.  Dinner's ready, anyway.  Much as I hate to say it, 
go put something on," Tom's voice halted Harry in his tracks 
on his way to the table.  "It's hot and I don't want you injuring 
anything I might have use for, later."

Harry snorted and headed into the bedroom to snag his robe 
off the floor, from  where it had fallen after being kicked off 
the bed, earlier.  He walked back into the dining area to see 
Tom holding his chair out with a flourish and smiled, allowing 
his lover to seat him. 

They ate quietly, for the most part, conversation conducted 
largely with hands and eyes, until the food was gone and the 
dishes cleared.  

Harry took his place on the couch again and waited for Tom 
to stretch out along its length, blond head in Harry's lap. 
Harry grabbed a pad off the table in front of him and scrolled 
through the pulp mystery novel he and Tom had been 
reading, looking for his stopping point from the night before.

"So, where were we?" Tom murmured, as his lover's fingers 
began working their way gently through his hair.

"When last we left our intrepid heroes, Culloughy was talking 
to the Feds about Dixon's disappearance, and Evalita 
Sanchez had just turned herself in for shooting Reno, like 
she had any choice, with her fingerprints all over the murder 
weapon," Harry summed up the novel's high points from the 
previous evening, but his voice became noticeably scornful 
at the end.

"Hey, she was upset," Tom protested, defending his heroine. 
"Besides, Reno *needed* shooting, *badly*.  The slimeball 
put Dominic in the hospital, after he shot out the tires on the 
guy's car and sent it crashing into the guardrail.  She just 
wasn't thinking clearly."

"She wasn't thinking *at all*.  She didn't have to drop the 
weapon at the scene, and there's no excuse for not 
removing all her fingerprints.  The gun had been stolen from 
the Vincenzo Brothers and it would *never* have been traced 
back to her, if she'd been smart about it.  Evalita is a *ditz*," 
Harry muttered uncharitably.

"She is *not*!" Tom exclaimed.  "Melody Moreau is the 
*ditz*."

"She is *not*!" Harry echoed, wondering if they were going to 
have to have this argument *every* *single* *night* until the 
damned novel was finished.

"Come on, Har, the Blonde Bimbo chases after the bad guys 
in four-inch heels! What woman in her right mind would run 
after a guy, *down a rickety flight of wooden stairs*, in 
*four-inch heels*?"

"At least she was able to pick the lock on the door to the 
storeroom when Carbone locked Miguel inside . . ."

"With a nail file?"
 
". . . *and* she single-handedly got him out of the warehouse 
before it exploded!"

"Harry, a *nail file*!!"

"It worked, didn't it?"

"It never should have! That's my point!  At least *Evalita* is a 
realistic portrayal of a woman!"

"Realistic?  *REALISTIC*?  The woman can break down a 
carburetor, change a tire, and re-belt a radiator assembly in 
an *evening dress*!  That is *not* realistic!"

"Hey, hey, hey, Harry, watch it!  She's my favorite.  My kinda 
gal."

Harry snorted, catching the gleam in Tom's eyes.  "You're 
*hopeless*," he said with a sigh, chuckling.

"And you love me," Tom retorted, grinning up at him. 

Harry growled and put his hand over Tom's face, pretending 
to smother him, until his lover ducked away.  "Hey, come 
back here," he said, relenting in his assault and helped Tom 
get comfortable once again.  "And I love you," he admitted 
softly, playing with the waves in Tom's hair. 

"I love you, too, Harry," Tom said quietly, angling himself 
upward for a quick kiss.  Which grew much longer than he'd 
originally planned when Harry responded ardently, his 
tongue finding and loving Tom's.

Harry was about to lose feeling in his toes when Tom finally 
pulled away and they grinned at each other, taking deep 
breaths, both of them deciding on 'later'.  He gripped the 
padd tightly until his heart slowed down then cleared his 
throat.

"Okay," he said, still more than slightly breathless as Tom 
took his hand and kissed his palm, before letting it return to 
stroke his hair.  "Let's see what everyone's up to tonight . . ."


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