Disclaimer time once again! Second 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.  :) 

*************************************************


"Tom, I'm sorry, but I just can't allow it."  

Captain Janeway could tell how upset Tom was at ten paces; 
sitting right in front of her, his anxiety was almost overwhelming. 

"I know how worried you are about Harry, we *all* are, but no 
one is going down to the planet's surface until we can come up 
with a way to work around the time distortions." 

Tom hadn't exactly been expecting the Captain's response to be 
the one he had hoped for, but it was still a shock to his system 
to hear her refusal.  Her reasons were all valid, her rationale 
perfectly sound, but it hurt. It hurt like hell to know he was going 
to have to deliberately disobey her orders.  He had no choice, 
no options.  He *had* to try to help Harry; there was no way 
around it. 

Captain Janeway was looking at Tom expectantly.  She knew 
how hard this was for him.  Harry was his best, and for a time 
had been his only, friend. Harry was stronger than anyone gave 
him credit for being, but the Captain worried about him, more so 
than she did almost anyone else on Voyager.  So young, in so 
many ways, and so . . . vulnerable.  There was just something 
about him that made people who cared, need to watch out for 
him.  And Tom cared.  She knew Tom didn't want to accept this, 
hated accepting it, in fact. But she was confident that he 
respected her judgment, and her rank, and that he would find a 
way to respect her decision, as well. 

"Understood, Captain," was all Tom said as he was dismissed. 
His duty shift was long over.  He walked to the turbolift, unaware 
of all the sympathetic glances being cast his way.  He stepped 
inside and as the lift made its way to his deck, one thought went 
through his mind, <Time for plan 'B'>  There wasn't time for 
regretting the course of action he was about to take, Harry didn't 
have the time.  Or, rather, Harry had too much of it.  <Oh, 
Damn, *Harry*> he thought.

Tom knew that Harry had been so looking forward to spending 
some time on the planet's surface . . . The planet had been 
discovered with the long range sensors; class 'M', temperate 
climate, earth-like, nearly.  Even if it wasn't a mineralogical 
storehouse, it was beautiful, certainly suitable for shoreleave, at 
the least.  Harry, Watson in Biology, and Likett from Geological 
Sciences had been the first to beam down for recon, to scout 
out shelter areas, explore the terrain, and investigate possible, 
and welcome, additions to Neelix's pantry.  They hadn't been 
down very long at all, when the comm signal from Voyager 
disappeared.  Harry's tricorder had discovered that an 
unidentifiable energy was moving, almost like a storm formation, 
through the area.  But, there was no storm.  Just the 'currents', 
really, of energy flowing around them.  Watson and Likett went 
into a nearby cave to investigate it's use as a shelter, if need 
be, and Harry moved off outside, briefly, to see if he could get a 
more detailed energy reading on the tricorder.  He turned 
around in time to see Watson and Likett vanish as they were 
beamed back aboard Voyager, according to the report they 
gave when they returned.  They had been on the planet's 
surface for about three-and-a-half hours, but they had been 
gone from Voyager for a matter of seconds.  Further attempts to 
locate Harry failed, leaving Tom frustrated as hell. And worried. 

Tom knew he didn't have much time.  Tuvok had said that while 
minutes and hours were passing on Voyager, days and weeks 
were likely passing for Harry.  The energy currents were neither 
constant nor stable and different areas of the planet were 
literally in different time zones, with time passing at different 
rates in each area.  Tom knew the Captain had put security 
lockouts on the shuttles and the transporters but he had every 
confidence in his ability to crack through them without alerting 
anyone.  He didn't need much time, just a few seconds of 
diversion and distraction and he would be on his way to the 
planet's surface with the help of the transporters.  He just 
needed to get things ready.  

He went to the shuttle bay, first, to swipe the medkits and the 
phasers.  He didn't think they'd need more than two of each, 
and more would be difficult to carry.  Placing the phasers inside 
the kits, he made his way to the nearby cargo bay by going 
through the jefferies tubes; he wasn't about to chance being 
seen with the kits in the corridors.  He left them just inside the 
tube, went through the empty cargo bay, and took off for 
engineering. 

B'Elanna was working on the tricorders that the two crewmen 
brought back with them, trying to make some sense of the 
readings.  She left the them at a nearby workstation, all the 
relevant data having been downloaded into the ship's 
computer.  So intent was she on her task that she never noticed 
Tom walk by the workstation and take both tricorders.  Heading 
into the corridor and taking a turbolift to his deck, to his 
quarters, Tom knew time was not on his side; B'Elanna would 
eventually realize they were gone and report it.

Tom went into his quarters and packed, fast. Datapadds, 
clothes, wristlights, anything he could think of, including some 
great camping gear he'd replicated for an earlier shoreleave. 
Then, down the hall to Harry's.  Damn, just as he had left them. 
Tom shook off the uneasy feeling that was creeping up on him 
and got to work.  More clothes, Harry's music, more datapadds 
and his clarinet, wrapped in the blankets off the bed, were 
packed with deliberate speed and care.  Who the hell knew how 
long they'd be stranded down there; the Captain wouldn't let 
anyone risk coming down after them in a shuttle and the 
transporters couldn't get a lock-on.  It could be a *long* time.

The shift change would be taking place in a few minutes; Tom 
knew he had to hurry if he was going to make it back to the 
cargo bay beforehand.  He paused and slowly removed his 
communicator, placing it on Harry's stripped bed.  It might buy 
him a little more time, if necessary.  He took one last look 
around and seeing nothing else they might need, he left. 

Luck was with him. There were not too many people in the 
corridors and a jaunty grin was enough to keep the questions at 
bay about the two large satchels slung over his shoulders.  He 
made it to the cargo bay with moments to spare.  He needed 
the imminent changeover, and the comings and goings of the 
crew, to help mask his intentions.  He got the medkits out of 
the jefferies tube and organized everything around him. It was 
time.

Tom started the subroutines that were still in place after the 
Kazon took control of Voyager, subroutines he put there which 
allowed him to access the security overrides on the 
transporters.  He felt awful, absolutely awful.  After all, they had 
been put in place to leave Voyager a back door, a way to regain 
control of the ship if it ever again fell into enemy hands. It 
bothered him greatly that he had, in a sense, become the 
enemy.

Suddenly, all hell started breaking loose all over Voyager.  The 
transporters had been overridden and people were being 
randomly beamed all over the ship, into and out of turbolifts, 
onto and off the bridge, in and out of engineering and the mess 
hall.  The only area not touched was sickbay.  Tom wasn't about 
to have anyone needing medical attention be transported away 
from the Doctor's care.  In all the resulting confusion, it was 
almost too easy for Tom to transport himself off the ship and 
onto the planet's surface, to the cave.  If they couldn't find 
Harry, they weren't going to find him.

As soon as Tom left the ship, the chaotic activity ceased. 
Everyone waited for it to begin again, and when nothing 
happened, all breathed a sigh of relief.  Janeway had a fair idea 
of the identity of the culprit behind all the trouble and asked the 
computer for Tom's whereabouts.

"Lieutenant Paris is in the quarters of Ensign Harry Kim."  Well, 
maybe not him, after all.

"Janeway to Paris."  Nothing. 

"Captain Janeway to Lieutenant Paris."  Still nothing.  *Damn*. 

"I'm going down to Harry's quarters.  Tuvok, you're with me, 
Commander, you have the bridge."   

Janeway stalked off the bridge and into the turbolift, Tuvok
following right behind her. He wisely said nothing as she stared 
straight ahead, glaring at the bulkhead.  It had been his 
impression at the time, that the Lieutenant had given up too 
easily his desire to rescue the Ensign.  With benefit of hindsight, 
he realized that Lieutenant Paris's resigned behavior had lulled 
them all into a false sense of security, that the matter had been 
resolved.  The matter, Tuvok now realized, had never been 
resolved to the Lieutenant's satisfaction.  Tuvok did not believe 
they would find him in the Ensign's quarters and wondered if 
they would ever find him at all. 


               -----------------------------     


Tom looked around, carefully, and with relief.  Everything had 
made it down to the surface with him. With a satchel slung 
crosswise over each shoulder, he set the medkits down and 
opened up one of the tricorders.  Thank whatever deity was 
responsible, there was a human lifesign less than a kilometer 
away.  Grabbing the rest of the gear, he headed out. 

<The planet really *is* beautiful>, he couldn't help thinking.  Of
all the places to be stuck, this was one of the better ones. 
Pretty, though odd, pale turquoise-colored sky, blue and gold 
grasses, some as tall as he was, moving gently in the slight 
breeze as he walked quickly past.  <No large predators, nothing 
registers as toxic to the tricorder, not bad at all.  Now, to find 
Harry, and hope to the gods he's not older than I am> 

He looked up ahead and saw that Harry had not been idle. 
Rough furrows were dug into the soil and several obviously 
different kinds of plants were growing.  At only two or three feet 
tall, it wasn't possible to tell what they were, yet.  *Only* two or 
three feet . . . !  And Harry hadn't even been gone more than six 
hours, in what Tom thought of as Voyager time.  

Further along a well-traveled path, he spotted a rock 
outcropping.  As he headed toward it, and Harry, he noticed that 
. . <I'll be damned, a log cabin.  Built right into the rock face> It 
was really pretty good, and Tom was impressed.  The back wall 
was the flat rock surface, the other three walls made of logs, 
stacked and notched, just like he'd seen in picts, years ago at 
the Academy. 

The door was propped slightly open and he peered in.  Light 
was coming in from the windows . .<**, he's got *windows*>, 
made from what looked like clear quartz, or something related. 
<Oh, Harry, how *long* have you *been* here?> Tom slowly 
pushed the door open and froze. Looking to the left, behind the 
door, was a thick woven pallet on the floor, and, on it, was 
Harry, sound asleep, wearing only a pair of shorts.  Black 
shorts, obviously made from the uniform pants.  The pillow 
under his head was covered with fabric as dark as his hair, 
made from the rest of his former uniform.  

He was facing away from the door as Tom quietly put down his 
load and took in the surroundings.  <Nice digs, Har>  Two 
benches, one under each window, a small table and one lone 
chair all made of wood and small logs.  The lone chair got to 
Tom.  <Only one, he didn't think he'd need chairs for two>  The 
floor was odd; it gave beneath his feet, obviously wood but 
almost spongy.  It was dark brown on the surface, scorched 
from a phaser beam. 

He walked toward Harry and knelt down beside him. <Gods, 
look at that hair, it's gotta be ten centimeters longer than it was 
when we had breakfast this morning>  Tom noted that Harry 
didn't have facial hair. Interesting that he had kept the hair, but 
not the beard or moustache he should have had.  <Could have 
used the phaser that cut the logs, to shave with, I guess>  And, 
he appeared to have put some muscle onto his slender frame. 
Oh, my.  

Tom felt like a voyeur, watching Harry sleep, but he loved 
looking at him. He couldn't help it; the man was gorgeous.  It 
wasn't like Tom hadn't been paying attention these last couple 
of years, but he'd never let himself stare openly before.  He'd 
been too afraid someone would notice.  Like Harry.  That would 
not have been pretty.  There was so much he needed to tell 
Harry.  The timing had always been lousy, before.  Now they 
had plenty of time and maybe, maybe . . Oh, hell, maybe later. 

Harry looked so peaceful asleep that Tom hated to wake him, 
but his curiosity was getting the better of him and there were 
only several hundred questions he was dying to ask.

Gently, he put his hand on Harry's shoulder and barely shook 
him, then moved the hand to the top of Harry's head and 
stroked down the back of it along all that inky softness.  He 
caught himself and moved his hand back onto Harry's bare 
shoulder.  

"Harry," he whispered, "wake up.  Come on, it's me, Tom."  

Harry's eyelids opened slowly, groggily, as he looked up at his 
friend.  It took him a second to realize that this was not one of 
those 'Harry, wake up, you've got to see what I've cooked up on 
the holodeck' visits in the middle of the night, that Tom was so 
famous for.  It had been a while since he'd even laid eyes on 
the man kneeling next to him.

"Oh, God, you're here, you're really here," passed his lips an 
instant before he launched himself at Tom. 

"I'm here, it's okay, Harry . . I'm right here," Tom said, catching 
him and wrapping his arms around him. 

"What are you doing here?" Harry asked with wonder, leaning 
back.  "Rescue?" he added hopefully. 

"No, roommate," Tom replied wryly. 

Harry looked past him to take in all the gear he'd brought with 
him.  "What have you done, now?  Where is everyone?  And 
what do you mean, *roommate*?" 

"Everyone else is still on the ship . ." Tom began, when Harry 
interrupted. 

"Can't we get back?" he asked, more than a little anxiously. 

"No, not yet," Tom sighed. 

"Then, what the hell are you doing here? Why did the Captain 
let you come down here if there's no way . ."  Harry trailed off 
and looked at Tom.  "Oh, you didn't  . . you're stuck here with 
me?  What were you *thinking*?"  He looked at Tom, shaking 
his head, looking annoyed and somewhat angry.  "The Captain 
will never forgive you for this, Tom, I . ." 

Whatever he had been about to say was cut off as Tom put his 
hand over Harry's mouth. 

"Listen to me," he said softly.  "You were stranded here. I 
couldn't let you go through that alone.  <Please, Harry don't ask 
me why, not yet>  It's possible that by the time Voyager finds a 
way to bring us back, we'll both be dead of old age.  It's only 
been about six hours since I saw you this morning, for me.  Yet, 
you've obviously been here for weeks, months, even.  I couldn't 
leave you alone here for what may be the rest of your life, Harry. 
<Not without me, no way in hell> I asked the Captain to let me 
come down, but she refused.  I didn't have any choice but to 
disobey her orders.  I had to come."  Tom looked at him, 
removed his hand from Harry's mouth, looked into his beautiful, 
astonished eyes and grinned.  "Besides, I live for courtmartials." 

"You *are* a lunatic, I knew it!  B'Elanna always said so and she 
was right.  This has got to be the craziest, most irresponsible 
thing you have *ever* done."  Tom was just sitting there letting 
him rant, with a slight smile on his face.  "And I don't know how 
to thank you."  The slight smile widened into the real thing. 
"You're out of your mind, you know."   

Tom just nodded and stood, giving Harry a hand up.  "Show me 
around?" 


                ----------------------------


Tom couldn't believe it.  The cabin, the farm, everything; it was 
amazing.  He had wondered how Harry had managed to build a 
log cabin all by himself until Harry had picked up a log outside 
that must have been two meters long.  It *was* a lightweight, 
cork-like wood, but still . . At least, it was until you baked it, as 
Harry had discovered when he'd tried to use it for firewood. 

"It turns into *what*?" Tom asked in disbelief.   

"Hair.  Well, sort of.  Exposure to heat for any length of time 
causes the wood fibers to separate.  And they're flexible.  It's 
what I filled the pillow and mattress with," Harry explained.  "The 
only problem is that when you pull on them at all, even the 
slightest bit of tension, they snap.  You just can't use them to 
make cloth.  If you had arrived any later, I might have been 
running around here naked," he laughed. 

Tom tried not to think about it.  Maybe later, but not right now, 
not with Harry standing right next to him.  

"What *did* happen to your uniform, anyway?"  Tom brought the 
subject to safer territory. "I've been meaning to ask you." 

"It doesn't fit anymore.  I can wear the tank, but the turtleneck is 
hopelessly tight.  I had to cut the sleeves off the jacket to make 
it fit and I'm wearing what's left of the pants." 

"Nice legs, Har," Tom laughed.  <Very nice>  "I noticed you'd 
put on some weight; looks good on you."  <Good, hell, it looked 
great> 

"Gee, thanks, Tom, nice to know you care," Harry replied 
sarcastically. 

"Speaking of clothes, I don't think they'll be a problem anymore, 
I brought plenty, for a while, anyway," Tom told him.  

"Har," Tom hesitated to ask, he wanted to know but was almost 
afraid of the answer. 

"What, what is it, Tom?"  Harry looked at his friend's suddenly 
too  serious face. 

"How long," Tom cleared his throat.  "How long have you been 
here?" 

Harry looked off into the distance then pulled his gaze back to 
Tom.  "Four months." 

<Four *months*?  Aw, shit, *Harry*>  "Hell, Harry, you're doing 
fine. And here I thought I was going to have to help *you* out. 
You're the one who's going to have to help *me* get used to all 
this."  Tom looked into his friend's eyes and saw them looking 
back at him, incredulously. 

"Fine?  You think I'm doing *fine*?  Totally alone, bored out of 
my skull after the first couple of weeks."  Harry started pacing in 
agitation.  "No one to talk to, nothing to do, really, anymore, and 
you think I'm doing *fine*?"  Harry paused.  

"You have no *idea* how happy I am to see you; to finally talk to 
another human being," Harry admitted.  "It makes me feel guilty 
as hell to know you came down here because I can't take care 
of myself." 

"Oh, Harry, no, that's not what I meant. Hell, look around at all 
you've accomplished since being here. This is a hell of an 
achievement.  And you *are* doing fine. You would've gotten 
along just great without me." 

Harry crossed his arms over his chest and looked at Tom with 
that 'fed up' look he knew so well.  "I might be able to take a lot 
of things," he said, "but I can't take solitude.  I can't stand being 
alone for long; I need people around me. I can't deal with 
loneliness, I just can't . . " 

Tom reached out and pulled Harry into his arms.  Harry went 
into them,  unresisting.  <Oh, heaven> "Harry, you don't have 
to.  I'm here. I'll be here for you and you'll be here for me and 
we'll get through this together, okay?"  He pulled back to look 
Harry in the eyes.  "Okay?" 

Harry's lips were pressed tightly together and his eyes were full 
of tears.  He nodded.  "Okay." 

"Come on, you've got to see what I brought," Tom grinned 
knowingly.  "You'll love it, I promise." 

Harry grinned back and with Tom's arm around his shoulders, 
they headed back home to the cabin.


               ------------------------------------- 


It was *too* funny; Harry was like a kid at Christmas, for crying 
out loud.  They were sitting on the floor by the bed, which Tom 
was trying not to look at.  Harry was going through the satchel 
his friend had packed for him.  The contents of Tom's had 
already been dumped out unto the floor and he was done 
unpacking as far as he was concerned.  Harry's clothes were 
gleefully brought out, and the padds; everything exclaimed over 
until he got to the music. A sad, pensive look came over his 
face. 

"I appreciate the thought, Tom, really I do," he said as he 
reached back into the satchel.  "But I didn't bring my clarinet." 
And then his fingers found it, how he'd never know, wrapped as 
it was in the blankets.  Maybe the smile on Tom's face had 
something to do with it, had somehow tipped him off, that his 
best friend had forgotten nothing. 

He brought it out and carefully unwrapped it.  He looked at Tom. 
The tears were back.  "Thank you."  It was barely a whisper, but 
Tom heard it clearly. 

"You're welcome," he replied, just as softly.  "I know you may be 
a little rusty for a while, but I want to hear you play, eventually." 

"You will, I promise."  Harry set the clarinet aside and cleared 
his throat.  "So, you hungry?" 

"Actually, yeah, now that you mention it.  Last meal I had was 
with you and that was four months ago," Tom said, with his 
standard smart-ass grin. 

Harry laughed, just the response he'd been hoping for.

"Well, then, we'd better get you fed, hadn't we?"  Harry hopped 
up and went to the back right side of the cabin.  He pushed 
lightly on the wooden wall and a door popped open.  He started 
poking around on the shelves. 

"Harry, what on Earth is that?" Tom hadn't seen this yet. 

"We're not on Earth, Tom," Harry said drily. 

"*Harry*!" 

"It's the pantry.  Not real deep, but enough storage for plenty of
food." 

"You amaze me; the things you think of.  That would never have 
occurred to me." 

"I don't like clutter and I don't like leaving food on the floor." 

"So, what's wrong with the table?" 

"It's not big enough," said Harry as he opened another door in 
the wall. 

"How much do you have?" Tom asked with evident surprise. 

"Plenty.  I just didn't like the idea of not having enough.  I don't 
know what the seasons are here, or if there even *are* any.  I 
go to get fruit or whatever one day and there's lots of it.  I go 
back the next and the plants are dying to the ground.  I go back 
the day after that and there are young plants again.  This place 
is so off kilter, Tom; I can't find any cycles to speak of." 

"That's because there really aren't any, Harry.  The energy 
causing the time variations isn't stable and the rate of time 
keeps changing all over the planet, in dozens of different 
places." 

Harry sighed.  "I know.  It's so weird; I'll go for a walk for a 
couple of hours and leave the tricorder on record.  I'll come 
back and two weeks have passed.  I'll take the same route a 
few days later, and arrive back almost immediately after I left." 

Tom looked curious.  "Harry, are you losing time?  Is the 
tricorder telling you you've aged those two weeks?" 

Harry shook his head.  "No, I only lose the couple of hours. 
Time *feels* the same, here. A day feels like a day, a week, like 
a week," he glanced away, "and a month, like a month, to me. 
It's all relative, I guess." 

"As Einstein would say," Tom smirked. 

Harry looked at him and laughed.  "So, Oh Wise One, how do 
we get off of this science experiment gone berserk?" 

Tom suddenly sobered.  "I don't know, Harry.  Voyager couldn't 
even find your comm signal under all these energy currents and 
shuttles can't land here." 

Harry looked down, then back up at Tom.  "Then how is 
Voyager going to get us out of here?" 

Tom sighed.  "They may not be able to, Harry.  They may not be 
able to." 

"Well, we'll just have to get along without them," Harry sounded 
determined, almost cheerful, but his face was grave. 

"We'll be all right, Harry.  Together, remember?" 

Harry nodded and smiled, shakily, but a smile nevertheless. 
"Together," he replied. 

The mood at dinner was lighter with Harry sharing stories of his 
time on the planet.  The wood making up the cabin was 
definitely different.  Harry had noticed that there were hardly any 
fallen logs in the woods.  When he discovered how lightweight 
the wood was, he was amazed.  The planet didn't have storms, 
apparently, nor harsh winds, or the trees would have littered the 
ground.  There were rain showers, on occasion, but the wood 
was also waterproof; the rain rolled right off it.  If there had been 
any major wind at all, the cabin would have blown away.   

Also interesting were the tales of gathering seeds for the 
garden, Harry's study of the plants nearby.  The Ensign had 
developed an interest in botany and was delighted with the 
amount of information on the padds now at his disposal.   

Some stories were vaguely unsettling, like the time he had been 
eating dinner and gone to the nearby river for water, only to find 
his food rotten upon his return, just a little while later.  Now, he 
always made sure he left nothing behind that would be ruined by 
the time he got back.

They had talked for hours and Tom was getting tired.  Harry had 
told him that he wasn't on much of schedule, really, he just slept 
when tired and ate when hungry. 

"Har, I'm beat," he yawned. 

"Yeah, me too," Harry suddenly looked uncomfortable.  "We're, 
uh, going to have to share the mattress until we make another 
one.  Trust me, you don't want to sleep on the floor." 

"Not a problem, Harry."  <A fantasy come true, but not a 
problem> 

They settled in for the night, Harry pleased to have blankets and 
something comfortable to sleep in.  It was close, almost too 
close for Tom's comfort.  Harry lying beside him, less then an 
arm's length away, was near torture.  Tom could feel the heat 
radiating off his friend's body and it was driving him to 
distraction.  Fortunately, exhaustion won out before long and 
sleep claimed him. 

Tom woke first the next morning, early, and realized he had 
curled up behind Harry in his sleep, his arm around the top of 
Harry's head, bent back, with his fingers wrapped up in that 
wonderfully long hair. He cursed himself for a fool and carefully 
managed to untangle himself from Harry.  He moved away 
slowly, hoping he wouldn't wake him up and backed into his part 
of the bed.  Damn.  He'd never go back to sleep now.  He 
glanced down at the pants he was sleeping in to see the 
erection he'd woken up with.  That part of him had no interest in 
sleeping, whatsoever.  Tom wanted nothing more than to wrap 
himself around Harry again and burrow in until he forgot his own 
name, but he and Harry hadn't had that talk, yet, and he didn't 
want to think about it right now.  Maybe later today.  Maybe.  
Actually, probably not.  <Coward>   

Tom got up, and discovered himself to be in desperate need of 
a bath.  Still half asleep and incredibly distracted, he got a 
change of clothes together and headed for the closest source of 
clean water, the river.   

He grumbled to himself the whole way there, thinking about 
what an idiot he was, taking so long to share with Harry the 
thoughts and feelings that had plagued him for years.  <Just 
*tell* him and get it over with>  He'd promised himself he would 
so many times in the past, but the fates had always conspired to 
snatch the moment from his grasp.  It was getting to the point 
that he believed it just wasn't meant to happen; maybe 
someone was trying to tell him something.  He had reached the 
water and, getting undressed, waded in.  Not too cold, barely 
enough to wake him up.  He ducked under the surface, then 
rose out of the water and threw his head back, wondering what 
was for breakfast.  He paused for a minute. Something was 
nagging him. Something about food. 

Finally, as his sleep fogged brain completely woke up, he 
remembered.  The story Harry told him. About the river, and 
time passing.  <Oh, *shit*!> 

Tom jumped out of the water and threw his clothes on.  He 
hadn't been gone for more than 20 minutes, but who knew how 
long that was on this cursed planet for Harry. 

He sprinted back to the cabin and through the door.  Oh, hell. 
There was Harry sitting at the table, leaning on his elbows, with 
his head in his hands.  He looked up when Tom burst into the 
room.

"Harry?  How long . . " Tom couldn't finish as he looked at 
Harry's face. He looked like hell, like he hadn't slept in . .  

Harry just looked at him, no expression on his face at all.  Part 
of him realized, dimly, that Tom's hair was soaked and his 
clothes were clinging to his still-wet body.  The river . . 

"Three days."  It was a croak. 

"Oh, God, Harry . ." Tom could barely speak as he approached 
Harry and fell to his knees next to him. He reached a hand out 
and cringed inside as Harry flinched and stood up, moving away 
from him.  Tom remained where he was; he couldn't move. <Oh 
stupid, so damn *stupid*>  He could do nothing but watch as 
Harry walked slowly back and forth with his arms now tightly 
wrapped around himself.  "*Harry*."  It was a plea, for what, 
Tom didn't know.  Forgiveness, understanding, something; 
some kind of reaction from the man who now stood halfway 
across the room, looking down at the floor. 

"Did you think I was kidding?" Harry asked in a voice that Tom 
could barely hear. 

"No.  Oh, gods, Harry, no.  I'm sorry.  I'm so, so sorry." 

Harry sighed heavily and walked slowly back to him and fell 
more than sat back into the chair.  "Then what were you 
*thinking*?" 

<How many times has he asked me that, recently?>  "I *wasn't* 
thinking, Harry, I just didn't realize . . Please, Harry, I am *so*
sorry."   

Harry looked at him, his eyes full of pain.  He opened his mouth 
to speak, then shut it and looked at his hands in front of him on 
the table. 

"What? . . Harry, say it.  Please, say *something*," Tom 
begged.  Oh, this was killing him. Harry looked so devastated, 
so injured.  And it was all *his* fault. He had done this to his 
best friend, this wonderful, gentle, caring man. Heaven only 
knew what he had gone through for *three days*.   

"There might have been . . a time . . when I could have gotten 
through this . . without you," Harry started slowly and painfully. 
"But that time . . has passed."  He looked down at Tom.  "I need 
you, now . . and I need to know . . that I can count on you . . to 
be here for me." 

<Gods, Harry, you're breaking my heart>  Damn, this hurt. Tom 
knelt there, with tears in his eyes, mirroring the ones he saw in 
Harry's.  All this pain, all this anguish and anger, all his fault. 

"I can't do this without you, you know . . not anymore," Harry 
continued.  "I need you so much . . and I need to know . . that I 
have you . . with me . ."  Harry's voice and control broke about 
the same time, when Tom reached up and took Harry's hand in 
his. Harry slid out of the chair and onto the floor in front of Tom, 
landing on his knees.  The tears were falling, now, from two sets 
of eyes as their arms went around each other. 

"You have me, Harry, oh gods, you have me.  It's okay," Tom 
said gently, through tears, holding him as closely as he could. 
"This will *never* happen again, do you hear me?  I don't care if 
we have to go through this *tied* together, this will *never* 
happen again, I promise.  Oh, Harry, I promise."   

"You scared the hell out of me. I didn't know . . where you were,
or . . what had happened to you," Harry sobbed quietly into his 
shoulder. 

"I know . . oh, damn, I know . . *Harry* . ." 

Tom couldn't remember the last time he had cried so much. He 
couldn't seem to stop.  Neither of them could.  They were just 
kneeling there, on the floor, holding onto one another for dear 
life.  <How many times have I wanted to hold him?  Dreamed 
about it?  But not like this, ever, not with so much hurt in him 
from something I did>   

"I would never hurt you on purpose, Harry, I swear it.  Never.  I'll 
never hurt you again.  I'm sorry . . so sorry," Tom whispered 
against the side of Harry's neck, feeling the pulse beneath his 
lips, caressing the long black hair with his hand, running his 
fingers through it, combing the strands with them.  His other 
hand was slowly going up and down Harry's back, stroking him, 
soothing him.

Harry was gradually relaxing, sinking into Tom's embrace.  Oh, 
this felt so good.  How long since he had been held like this, 
touched with such care and tenderness?  He turned his head 
into Tom's neck and ,without even giving it a thought, kissed 
him softly just below the ear. 

Tom almost groaned aloud, but caught it in time.  <Oh, this is 
not happening, there is no *way* in *hell* this is happening> 
Tom hesitated, for an instant, then moved the dark strands 
away from Harry's ear and kissed him just in front of it.  He 
moved slowly down Harry's face, kissing the tears away with his 
lips, brushing them away with gentle fingers. 

Harry closed his eyes and leaned into Tom's touch, lips parted 
slightly, barely breathing.  Oh, this was wonderful.  Nothing had 
felt this good in *such* a long time.  He could feel Tom's fingers 
lightly stroking his face, following his eyebrows, then moving up 
his forehead and through his hair, to the back of his head and 
around his neck and back up his face again.  He felt one finger 
trace his lower lip and let his tongue dart out to meet it.  He 
heard Tom's slight gasp and opened his eyes. 

Tom was in a state of shock.  Harry was actually *enjoying* this. 
He let his finger drag back and forth against Harry's tongue and 
felt his eyes roll back in their sockets when Harry leaned 
forward, opened his mouth a little more, closed it around Tom's 
finger, and started sucking gently.  The sensation went straight 
to his cock, taking what seemed to be all the blood in his body 
along with it.  He leaned forward, more from lightheadedness 
than by design, and found Harry's cheek with his lips.  He slowly 
leaned back and brought his finger out of Harry's mouth. 

"Harry," he barely spoke aloud.  "What the hell are you 
*thinking*?" 

Harry's face was flushed and he smiled slightly at Tom's choice 
of words.  "I'm not thinking," he said quietly.  "I'm just enjoying." 

"Oh, Harry, you don't know what you're doing," Tom's voice still 
not above a whisper.  "You don't know what you're doing to me." 

Harry moved his hands to the front of Tom's shirt.  One 
remained behind to undo it while the other traveled further south 
to find the physical evidence of Tom's arousal.  He stroked 
Tom's cock through the fabric, loving Tom's soft growl and the 
wild look in his eyes as his hand moved up and down the hard 
length of it. 

"Oh, I think I do," Harry breathed right before his teeth sank 
gently into Tom's neck.  Tom hissed and arched away from 
Harry, who continued, "I know *exactly* what I'm doing to you." 

He eased his hand away from Tom's erection and moved back 
to take the still-wet shirt off, sliding it over Tom's shoulders and 
peeling it off his arms, then tossing it carelessly behind them. 
He ran his hands over Tom's chest and ribcage, down across 
his stomach and up, over his nipples, along the collarbone and 
onto the shoulders, wrapping his hands around them.  He 
looked into Tom's eyes as he slowly leaned in and kissed him 
on the lips.  Oh, that *growl*. 

Tom tried to find a good reason to stop this; he really wanted to
have that talk with Harry.  But everything he had wanted for 
years was suddenly in his lap and he couldn't muster the 
strength to make Harry stop the assault on his senses long 
enough to have that talk.  He brought his own hands to the front 
of Harry's shirt and began slowly undoing it, taking the time to 
caress him as Harry turned him inside out with those warm, 
tantalizing lips of his. Finally, the shirt was off and tossed out of
sight.  He pulled back and allowed himself to stare, at *last*, as 
his hands roamed freely all over Harry's chest. 

"You're drooling," Harry said with a smile. 

"Can't help it, you're so damned gorgeous," Tom grinned back. 

Harry had never seen this grin before on Tom and he'd seen a 
lot of them.  This one was warm and aroused and *very* sexy. 
Harry couldn't believe this was happening; it was so incredible. 
The feel of Tom's hands on his chest was pretty incredible, too, 
fingers stroking everywhere, and as Tom leaned in to lick his 
nipples, he let his head fall back and moaned, lacing his fingers 
through that beautiful golden hair and holding him right where 
he was.  Tom was gently easing him backwards, so he let Tom's 
weight bear them both to the floor and wrapped his legs around 
him. Damn, he couldn't get the man close enough. 

Tom found himself on the soft, yielding floor, on top of Harry, 
and had no idea how they had gotten there.  He couldn't bring 
himself to be overly concerned about it, either, not with Harry 
wrapping his arms and legs around him and kissing him 
senseless.  Okay, kissing him *more* senseless.  Suddenly, 
Harry shifted and rolled him over and, still being too close to the 
table, they bumped into it.  The slight jolt knocked Tom back to 
reality. 

"Come on, bed," Harry sighed into Tom's mouth as he moved 
from on top of him and rose to his knees, still kissing Tom. 

"Harry . . wait a minute . . we need to . . talk . . Harry."  Tom 
tried to move away from him, but it wasn't working with Harry 
above him, kissing him, so he took hold of the man's shoulders 
and gently pushed him away.   

"What?  Come on, the bed's a lot more comfortable." 

"Harry, wait, I need to make sure that this is something you 
really want.  I don't want you to feel, tomorrow, that I took 
advantage of you when you were hurting."  Tom hated saying it, 
but he didn't want any regrets the morning after to ruin what 
they could have here, what they could be to each other. 

"Tom . ."  Harry was too mind-fried with lust and need and want 
to think clearly; he just knew he needed Tom, and badly. 
"Listen to me. I do want this; I want you, I need you, right now, 
tonight, tomorrow, and the day after that.  Now shut up and 
come to bed." 

Tom had to laugh, but laughing apparently wasn't on Harry's 
agenda, either.  He barely had time to be startled as Harry 
grabbed his hand and starting dragging him across the floor to 
the bed.  He couldn't stop laughing enough to help, but the two 
of them made it to the bed, eventually, and collapsed onto the 
mattress.   

"Hungry, aren't you, Harry?" Tom chuckled as he leaned up and 
grabbed the hair at the back of Harry's head and pulled him 
down on top of him. "We'd better get you fed, then . ."  He 
smiled and focused his eyes on Harry's mouth as he zeroed in 
to kiss him. Harry groaned and leaned on his forearms, braced 
on either side of Tom's head, and kissed him back with a 
passion that surprised him. He couldn't get enough of him and, 
wanting more, began moving slowly, seductively, against Tom.

Tom stroked one hand down Harry's back to his ass and pulled 
him even harder against him, reveling in the sounds Harry was 
making.  He rolled Harry next to him and his fingers flew to undo 
Harry's slacks and push them down over his hips.

Harry's hands weren't idle, either, as they moved to get Tom out 
of the rest of his clothing.  Soon, they were touching 
everywhere, naked against each other and still weren't close 
enough to satisfy either one of them.  Harry felt his skin come 
alive under Tom's hands as they roamed all over his fevered 
body.  And the feel of Tom's lips against his, heaven.  Harry lay 
on his back under this exquisite assault and thrust up against 
Tom, needing, wanting so much more.  

Tom raised his head and grinned at Harry and proceeded to lick 
his way slowly down Harry's slick skin, nibbling and tasting as 
he went.  Down his chest, along his sides, then his stomach. 
Harry's muscles clenched as he raised up under this loving 
touch, and as Tom's tongue made its way down to his throbbing 
cock, he fell back onto the mattress and arched his hips up in 
silent entreaty.  Tom licked him all along the length, around the 
head, and down the underside.  He raised up slightly to see the 
look on Harry's face. Harry was watching him, and as Tom took 
that wonderful length of cock into his mouth and deep-throated 
him, Harry threw back his head and screamed.  Tom was so 
absorbed in what he was doing and by Harry's thrashing, 
completely out of control, that he almost didn't hear him. 

"No . . not yet . . God, I want you  . . in me . . *please*, Tom . 
. in me . ." Harry didn't want to come, not just yet.  Gods, it was 
torture to wait, but he had to have Tom inside him, filling him. 

Tom backed off, sat up, and straddled Harry, effectively pinning 
him to the mattress.  He licked the palm of his hand and brought 
it down to caress his own shaft, never breaking eye contact with 
Harry.  Harry's eyes went wide as he watched Tom touch 
himself, slowly stroking his cock up and down.  Tom moved his 
hand up to lick the palm again when he heard Harry rasp, "Let 
me . . . please."  Harry took his hand and, keeping eye contact, 
kissed the palm, then licked it, and the wrist, and all the way 
back down to Tom's fingers, taking each one into his hot mouth 
and sucking them in turn.

"Oh, sweet heaven, Harry," Tom couldn't take too much more of 
this, or he'd be coming all over Harry's chest.  He felt his lover 
buck up beneath him. 

"Let me turn over," Harry said, in a voice even softer than his 
skin. 

"No way in hell," Tom growled back.  He grinned inwardly when 
he saw Harry shiver slightly and leaned forward to lick and 
nibble at the other man's chest.  "I want to see your eyes when 
I'm fucking you."  He was still growling and it was really getting 
to Harry.  "I want to watch your face when I come." 

"Dangerous," Harry murmured.  "I like that." 

He saw Tom throw a hot look up at him through his lashes 
before his eyes narrowed for a moment. <Oh, I am a dead 
man> he thought, as he watched Tom consider what he'd just 
said.  Uh, oh.  Another one of those grins he'd never seen 
before flickered briefly across Tom's face. <Oh, this is bad> 
was in the forefront of his mind until Tom's mouth descended on 
his. The thought quickly turned into <Oh, this is fucking terrific> 
as Tom kissed him with heat enough to melt the warp core.   

Tom began biting him, gently at first, down his neck, around his 
ears, along the collarbone and down the middle of his chest. 
He leaned back briefly to catch Harry's eyes right before his 
teeth fastened onto his nipple.  Harry gasped and went to grasp 
Tom by the back of the head but he had already moved back up 
to suck on Harry's neck, nuzzling him around the ears and 
growling softly.  He continued to work on Harry, bathing him with 
his tongue, everywhere, and paused on occasion to bite him, 
here and there.   

Tom was moving sinuously against him, all over him, stroking 
and caressing with that beautiful body, never stopping the 
wonderful things he was doing with his mouth.  Harry couldn't 
take it anymore.  Gods, the man was having him for lunch. 

"Tom, I need you . . need you in me," he groaned. 

"You'll have me, Harry," Tom snarled quietly into Harry's ear. 
"In time." 

He saw Harry's eyes widen again; Oh, Tom loved this.  The man 
was so responsive and so ready for him, that he couldn't 
torment him any longer.  He moved down Harry's legs and slid 
off to the side to spread them open, then moved back in 
between them at the knees.  He bent forward and starting 
licking his way up Harry's thighs, first one, then the other, long, 
slow, wet strokes of his tongue along the insides of those 
wonderfully long legs, continuing the growling that drove Harry 
crazy.  Tom moved up against his ass and slowly began 
caressing the opening there, looking down at the man beneath 
him with a wildness that made Harry shiver again.  He put one 
of his fingers into his mouth and pulled it slowly out, in again, 
slowly, then out.  Harry was so insanely turned on, all he could 
do was moan Tom's name. 

The *need* in his voice, and the arousal, brought a feral gleam 
to Tom's eyes as he took his finger and gently probed Harry with 
it.  He slid it inside and worked the tight muscle loose, going 
around in circles within Harry, watching him, until the man was 
nearly out of his mind.  He added another finger, then another, 
and knew Harry was ready for him.  His cock was still wet, 
thanks to Harry, but he slowly spread the precum around at the 
tip anyway, with one finger, tantalizingly, just to make the man 
writhing under him go crazy.   

He moved Harry's legs up and around him, bending them gently 
over his shoulders, and turned his head to bite the inside of 
Harry's thigh.  The reaction he got, as Harry arched his back 
and gasped, made his cock ache.  Neither of them could wait 
much longer.  He positioned himself just outside of Harry and 
gradually eased himself in.  Damn, he was tight.  The feeling 
was unbelievable as Tom moved carefully back and forth inside 
his lover and Harry rose to meet his gentle thrusts.

Harry's eyes were wild but it was nothing compared to the look 
in Tom's.  They didn't even seem to be completely human. It 
was eerie, the way Tom looked, so nearly out of control, yet so 
familiar.  Tom threw his head back and snarled, moving faster 
as the tension built up within him. Harry was mesmerized, 
watching him. Gods, was this *Tom*, this beautiful creature, 
filling him so completely?  This wasn't just sex or comfort, lust 
or need, or anything like that anymore.  This was primal, this 
was . . oh, this was so damn *good*.  Harry felt Tom shaking 
and knew he was close, so close to coming. 

"Come, Tom, come in me . . that's it . . *yes* . . faster, fuck me . 
. yes . . oh, *gods* . . like that . ." Then Harry couldn't speak; he 
was too close to climaxing, himself, and he really didn't want to. 
Not yet. He reached up with his hand and touched the side of 
Tom's face. Tom turned his mouth into Harry's hand and bit the 
edge of it, right below the thumb.  Harry gasped and brought his 
other hand to Tom's chest and scratched lightly down his 
nipples.  Tom arched his back and hissed.  

Harry never released Tom from eye contact, just watched him 
as he shook harder, the wild sounds he was making becoming 
increasingly louder until Tom came with a roar and emptied 
himself into Harry, his climax shattering him into pieces so 
small, he'd never find them.  He collapsed on top of Harry, who 
moved his legs off Tom's shoulders and let them fall back onto 
the mattress.   


                ------------------------------------ 


Harry was exhausted and he hadn't even come, yet.  He lay 
there, gently stroking Tom's hair, the back of his neck, down his 
broad shoulders as far as he could reach.  There was a 
rumbling sound coming from Tom; Harry could feel it vibrating 
through his chest.  So soft . . what was . .

"Tom, are you *purring*?" Harry asked, with stunned delight, a 
smile breaking across his face. 

Tom raised his head and moved up Harry's body, oh, so slowly, 
skin caressing skin, until they were at eye level.    

"Could you blame me?" he asked softly, before sinking his teeth 
into Harry's shoulder. 

Harry arched his back and moaned. "Wha . . what are you  . . 
doing?  You have to . . be exhausted . . oh, gods, yes . ." 

Tom raised his head and looked into Harry's eyes.  <We aren't 
finished, Harry, not by a damn sight> he thought as he stared at 
him. Hell, he *still* felt unsated.  He gazed down at all the 
bruises and bites he had left all over Harry's body.  He had 
marked the man, made him his.  Now, it was time for Harry to 
do the same to him. 

That wasn't exactly a smile Tom was wearing, now was it?  The 
hunger in his eyes . . Harry could feel it pulling his own desire 
from him, through him. Oh, yes . . 

"Your turn," Tom whispered, as he began kissing the bruises 
and licking the spots where his teeth had left marks. "Make me 
yours, Harry . . mate with me . . I want you . . so deep inside me 
. . that I can taste you . . in my mouth . . when you come." 

Harry's eyes slowly fell shut.  His mind was suffering a major 
overload.  He couldn't think anymore; couldn't think to speak, 
couldn't think to move. Tom's voice was almost a physical 
touch; he could feel, not just hear, the words running over his 
body and through his mind.  And how he was *reacting*.  The 
man would bring him to orgasm, if he kept talking like that.  He 
was trying so hard to hang on, to keep the wildness growing 
inside him under control, to keep himself from attacking Tom.  It 
was rapidly becoming impossible, he realized, as his body 
began quivering with the effort. 

Tom felt Harry tremble and glanced up at him to see his eyes 
shut tight.  He saw his hands clenched into fists at his sides and 
knew Harry was trying to control himself.  He didn't want Harry 
in control; he wanted him totally out of his mind.  He was fighting 
it so hard, *too* hard . . 

"Oh, no, you *don't*," Tom hissed at him and saw Harry's eyes 
fly open.  "Not with *me*, you don't.  I *want* you to let go, 
Harry.  I *need* you to let go.  Lose it with me," he growled into 
Harry's neck, biting him again, none too gently, right below his 
jaw.  "I don't care how wild it gets, I *want* it.  Just let yourself 
go.  Don't hold back with me, ever.  I want it *all*," he ground 
out, roughly, against Harry's ear.  "You won't frighten me, or 
shock me. I know you think you *need* to hang on, but you 
don't, not with me. Never with me. Trust me, Harry." 

Harry felt something melt within him at the heat in Tom's voice. 
Tom watched it go; saw something else flare up in Harry's eyes. 
He bent his head down to nuzzle Harry with his nose and mouth 
and felt Harry's hands come up to reach into his hair and grip it, 
hard. He pulled Tom back by the hair and sank his teeth into his 
lover's throat.

Tom's head fell back and he groaned.  <Oh, *yes*, that's more 
like it>

"Harry, oh, yeah.  Don't stop, please, don't stop . ."  

Harry quickly hooked a leg around Tom and flipped him over, 
moving on top of him, pinning him to the mattress.  He gazed 
into Tom's eyes and saw no surprise there at all.

"I want you, Tom . . gods, I need you . . so much," He groaned 
out as he kissed Tom, open mouthed, their tongues caressing 
one another, fast and urgent. 

"Prove it, Harry," Tom challenged, softly, kissing him hard, 
drawing the desire out of him. "Show me . . " 

Harry saw the mark he'd made on Tom's throat.  It was a start. 
He began kissing him everywhere, his face, his neck, caressing 
him with soft, warm lips.  He faintly heard Tom moan again as 
he drew his tongue around the man's ear and inside, then 
continued licking down his neck.  He was getting harder by the 
minute, feeling Tom react so strongly to everything he did.  He 
used his teeth harder along Tom's collarbone and felt him arch 
up beneath him. Before he came back down on the mattress, 
Harry moved one hand under him, kneading his ass, stroking 
along the back of his thigh.   

Harry rolled to one side, and threw his leg over Tom, keeping 
him there on his side, so he could use his hands freely. He 
stroked Tom's chest with one hand, letting the other wander 
over the shoulder and down his back to his ass.  He carefully 
moved one finger into the cleft and stopped at the opening. 
Tom growled again and Harry shivered as the sound went down 
his spine. 

"Do it, Harry.  Gods, don't stop now," Tom groaned as he tried 
to get closer, their cocks teasing and touching each other, both 
so hard again.   

Harry needed easier access so he moved his leg off Tom. 
Then, taking hold of Tom's leg behind the knee, he brought it up 
over him and scooted closer, until their cocks were touching 
again.  Now they were in exactly the opposite position that they 
had been.  He flung one arm out to the side, above Tom's head, 
and reached around behind Tom with the other to caress his 
ass again, deliberately slipping one finger into the cleft and 
stroking tenderly. 

Tom stretched up to lay his head on Harry's shoulder and the 
arm behind him came up, supporting him, as he felt Harry's 
fingers thread through his hair.  Harry tilted his head back and 
kissed him, devouring his mouth with breathtaking intensity as 
he reached around and took hold of Tom's erection.

He moved one finger gently around the tip, spreading the 
precum around it and all over his finger.  Tom hissed with 
pleasure.  Harry grinned almost evilly.  Payback time.

"You thought you were being so clever when you did this to 
yourself as I watched . . driving me out of my mind," Harry 
whispered into Tom's ear.  "How does it feel . . to know that 
*I'm* doing it to you, now? . . feel how wet you are," his voice 
never above a whisper, low and soft.  He took hold of the length 
and began stroking faster, rougher.  "How much you want me . . 
feel how much you want me . . inside you, fucking you . . how 
hot and hard your cock is in my hand . . do you feel that?" 

Tom's entire body was shaking with the force of his desperate 
need.  Harry was jerking him off, expertly, his voice and words 
and touch rapidly bringing Tom to that cliff's edge of arousal. 
He was going over, he knew that, and hoped Harry would be 
there to catch him when he fell. 

Tom froze suddenly and threw back his head.  Harry fastened 
his mouth on Tom's neck and sucked, hard, never losing the 
rhythm his hand had found to bring Tom off.  Tom came and 
came, thrashing, crying out, bucking hard into Harry as his 
orgasm exploded into his lover's hand. 

Tom opened his eyes to find Harry looking at him, slowly licking 
his fingers, but leaving his hand soaked with his seed.  Harry 
smiled tenderly at him, the tenderness having a slight edge to it 
that he couldn't place until Harry spoke. 

"Thank you," Harry said with a knowing look.  "Didn't know what 
to use for a lubricant."  He brought his hand down to his own 
erection, and began stroking himself, sensuously. 

"Son of a  . ." Tom lost track of what he'd started to say as he 
watched Harry touch himself, moving his hand over his cock, 
his eyes locked on Tom's startled gaze. 

"Roll over, *now*," Harry said, softly, but in a tone of voice that 
Tom had never heard him use before.  Tom moved onto his 
stomach, stretching his long legs out with feline grace and his 
arms out in front of him, turning his head to the side to watch 
Harry.  Harry started at the top of Tom's spine and slowly traced 
it with a fingernail, scratching all the way down, leaning forward 
to kiss his shoulder, then bite into his neck as his finger 
continued on, oh, so slowly.

He reached Tom's ass and drew lazy figures on his skin, as 
Tom shivered with heightened awareness.  Harry's finger dipped 
into the cleft again and gently found its way into the opening. 
He pushed lightly and his finger slid inside.  He worked it around 
carefully, loosening the tight ring of muscle then added a 
second finger. 

Tom groaned and his hands clenched into the mattress.  He 
needed more, wanted more, so badly, but Harry was going to 
take this at his own pace, no matter what he did. 

"You like that, don't you?" he heard Harry whisper.  "Feel what 
I'm doing to you . . where I'm touching you . . " 

Harry slid in another finger and felt Tom tense.  He moved his 
lover's legs apart and knelt between them.  He bent forward, 
biting and licking his way down Tom's back, then up again. 
Harry reached his arm under Tom's waist and pulled him 
backwards, bringing him up onto his knees, Tom's hands 
coming under him to support his own weight.

"Oh, Harry . . *yes* . . please . . fuck me," he heard himself 
begging and didn't care when he felt Harry position his cock just 
outside then slowly slip in.  Gods, he was hard again.  He wasn't 
going to be able to walk for days after this.  He felt Harry reach 
around for his cock and stopped his searching hand. "If you 
make me come, without you, again, I'll kill you, I swear to *God* 
I will." 

Harry chuckled through the haze that was rapidly clouding his 
mind and left Tom alone for the moment. He moved easily in 
and out of Tom, feeling his muscles clench around him, making 
him gasp out loud.  Perfect, absolutely perfect.  <Damn, he 
feels so good> as he heard Tom growling again, making him 
harder than he already was. 

"*Tom* . . oh, so *good* . . yes . . made for me . . *ohhh* . . 
made for me . . to be in you . . like this . ." he ground out 
between thrusts as Tom started thrusting back against him. His 
hands were gripping Tom's shoulders, hard, and he leaned 
forward to sink his teeth into the back of Tom's neck, then his 
shoulderblade, biting him, marking him, down the entire length 
of his back as Tom groaned and threw his head back.  Harry 
took advantage of the opportunity and his teeth met the side of 
Tom's neck, sucking hard. Harry brought one hand under Tom 
and, starting at his throat, dragged his nails down his chest, 
over his nipples and his stomach, around to his hip, and dug in.

Tom was moving wildly beneath him, bucking back hard into 
him.  "*Gods*, Harry, *yes* . . more." They picked up speed and 
Tom cried out, "*Harry* . . take me . . harder . . fuck me . . 
yours, oh, *yes* . . always yours . . love you . . love you, so 
much . ." Tom was going to come again, but this time, by the 
gods, Harry was coming with him. 

Harry dimly heard Tom say he loved him and felt an incredible 
heat flow through him. "Love . . love you . . Tom, oh *yes*," he 
managed to say before feeling Tom clench tightly around his 
cock.  Gods, he was coming, oh, he was going to come *hard*, 
as he heard Tom roar and felt him tremble beneath him.

Tom heard Harry's declaration of love and lost it, totally.  He 
was so damn hot, feeling Harry pumping him, throbbing inside 
him, his slick body surrounding him, that the words added too 
much to his already taxed senses and he felt himself coming 
again.  He could feel Harry shaking behind him, inside him, and 
as he roared and came, he felt Harry explode within him.  

<Finally, finally . . thank whatever deity made this possible . . 
finally>  Tom thought before Harry collapsed over him, his dead 
weight bringing them both down to the mattress.

They lay there for a long time, until Harry regained enough 
strength to move carefully out of Tom and slip off to the side. 
Tom groaned as he felt Harry leave, then sighed as his arms 
came around him. He was shaking like a leaf in a hurricane. 
Tom rolled over and wrapped Harry up in his arms and pulled 
him close. 

"Are you okay?" he heard Harry ask in a small voice. 

"Am *I* okay?  Hell, Harry, I'm *great*."  He took a closer look at 
his lover's face, or tried to until Harry turned away.   

"Har, hey, what's wrong? . . Look at me, come on, look at me." 
Harry turned back toward him, his face wet with tears. 

"I'm sorry," he said softly. 

Tom was totally floored.  "Sorry?  For what?" he asked in 
disbelief. 

"I hurt you," he answered, looking confused as hell that Tom 
didn't realize it. 

"Harry, Sweetheart, you *didn't* hurt me, I swear it," Tom 
replied, stunned that Harry could even *think* such a thing.   

"You're black and blue, covered with bitemarks, and bleeding 
from at *least* a dozen scratches, don't *tell* me I didn't hurt 
you, Tom!" He bit off, angrily. 

"Oh, gods, Harry . ." Tom couldn't think of what to do.  Harry 
was in just as bad a shape as Tom was, he just didn't realize it, 
he couldn't *see* it.  Tom needed a mirror. He thought a minute, 
and jumped up from the mattress, grabbing Harry's hand and 
pulling him upright. 

"Come on, I'll show you," Tom said as he put an arm around 
Harry's shoulders and started leading him out the door. 

"Tom, wait a minute . ." 

"No, Harry, I am *not* going to wait.  I have a point to make, and 
you are coming with me if I have to pick you up and carry you!" 
Tom stated emphatically. 

He hauled him unceremoniously to the river, located a still, quiet 
part of the water near a good-sized rock and led Harry out onto 
it.

"Look," Tom said, pointing down. 

"Look at *what*?" Harry asked in confusion. 

"Look at *you*, Har," Tom answered and stepped aside. 

Harry glanced down into his reflection in the clear water, 
intending just to humor Tom, and stopped.  "My god, Tom, 
*look* at me," he said in stunned disbelief.  Harry had bruises all 
over his throat, and his chest, and his back, with bloody 
scratches there, too.  He knelt down to see better and realized 
that he had imprints from Tom's teeth all around his neck, as 
well.  He stood back up, still staring into the water, at his 
reflection, in shock and saw Tom coming up behind him. 

Tom walked up and put his arms around Harry, pulling him 
gently back against him. "See, we marked each other up pretty 
damn good, didn't we?" he said into his ear, wry amusement in 
his voice.

He turned Harry around, gently, and took his face in his hands. 
"Harry, please don't ever be sorry for what happens when we 
make love to each other.  None of it, okay?  I loved it when you 
went wild, like that.  I wanted this, remember?  *All* of it, every 
scratch, every bruise, every last bite.  I wouldn't trade them for 
*anything*, Love, do you hear me?  Do you?" 

Harry nodded, awed.  "You really love me, don't you?" 

"Harry, you were right there when I said it, didn't you believe 
me?"  Tom asked with a grin. 

Harry grinned wickedly back.  "You never said it, before.  Of 
course, I was never in you so deep you could taste me before, 
either."

Tom threw back his head and laughed.  "So true, Har, so true." 
Tom stopped laughing but the smile remained.  "You have no 
idea how many times I wanted to, though.  No *idea*."  He 
turned around and sat down on the sun-warmed rock, his legs 
dangling into the water, disrupting the stillness and their 
reflection. 

"Why didn't you ever tell me, then?" Harry asked, joining him on 
the rock and letting his legs dangle as well. 

Tom grimaced.  "Aw, hell, Harry, I tried, so many times. 
Something always got in the way.  There just wasn't ever a good 
*time*, you know?"  He looked at Harry, hoping for 
understanding. 

Harry just nodded.  "We seem to have plenty of time, now," he 
said quietly. 

Tom knew he was thinking about their situation and decided to 
distract Harry before he depressed the hell out of himself.  He 
reached forward into the water, and brought a handful up and 
into Harry's astonished face. Tom got to laugh for only an 
instant before Harry reached in with *both* hands and retaliated 
in kind. 

The water fight from the rock led them both into the water, 
splashing and chasing each other like a couple of kids.  At least, 
it provided them with an opportunity to clean off.  After a while, 
they gave up trying to drown each other and just relaxed, 
floating quietly in the water, swimming laps, and lazing about.  It 
felt wonderful and they didn't get out until they both realized they 
were starving. 

They headed back to the cabin, arms around each other's 
waists, pausing on the walk back to kiss and touch every so 
often, just delighting in being together.  They *had* a while to 
enjoy one another, Tom reasoned, as they stepped inside the 
door and walked over to the piles of clothes to get dressed. 

Harry opened up one of the medkits and held up a dermal
regenerator.

"Do you want to?" he asked, hesitantly. 

"No way in hell, Harry," Tom said with feeling.  "But, if you want 
to, go ahead." 

Harry shook his head and placed it back inside the kit.  He 
stood up  and walked into Tom's arms.  It felt so *right* to be 
there.  He looked at Tom. 

"I love you, you know," he said softly, caressing Tom's face. 

"Oh, I love you, too, Har, I love you," Tom replied. 

Harry took Tom's hand in his, and raising it to his lips, kissed 
the palm, then placed it on his chest, over his heart. 

"Yours," he said, eyes bright with unshed tears. 

Tom could feel Harry's strong heartbeat as he took Harry's 
hand, and closing his eyes, kissed the palm, bringing it to his 
own chest.  He placed it over his own heart. 

"Yours," he answered, softly, as he stepped toward Harry and 
kissed him.

"Yours, always."


********************end