Deadlocked – from the Season 2 episode of the same name

Harry Kim from the "duplicate" Voyager created by a sub-space rift crosses over to the original Voyager, which is practically the same ship, except in a few small ways… (Paris/Kim slash, NC17, First time - sort of, mostly PWP as the plot is more hinted at than really in evidence!)

Written for the October SFHQ Long Mission challenge.

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Harry Kim: "This isn't really my ship and you're not really my captain and yet you are and there's no difference. But I know there's a difference. Or is there? It's all a little weird."

Captain Janeway: "Mr. Kim, we're Starfleet officers. Weird is part of the job."

She slapped him on the shoulder and sent him off-duty to shower and get some sleep, if he could. Harry wandered absently down the corridor, palmed the lock into his quarters and nearly walked face-first into the door when it refused to open. Damn, the damage to the ship must have been worse than he thought. He keyed the manual combination into the door lock and it hissed open.

Tom was sitting in the middle of their couch in a typical attitude; feet on the coffee table, head leaning against the wall, arms spread along the back of the couch. He lifted his head and opened his eyes when he heard the door open, then with a start and a guilty look took his feet off the coffee table.

"Never mind," Harry said with a smile, "I'm too tired to notice today. Helluva day." He kicked off his shoes and curled up on the couch in his customary posture, with his head on Tom's shoulder. He felt Tom stiffen slightly as he slid his hand behind the small of Tom's back and started to rub his spine. "You're tense tonight – but then, I guess we all are. It has been a tough run for everyone." He sighed and continued to rub Tom's back.

"Um, yeah." Tom finally responded. "That feels good though." He started to relax into the soft but persistent rubbing.

Harry snorted, "Well, after nearly a year of living together, I guess I've finally worked out the care and feeding of Tom Paris!" He felt Tom flinch slightly under his sensitive fingertips. "Sorry, was that a knot? Hey, why don't you go lie down on the bed and stretch your back while I shower, then I'll come back and do this properly. How does that sound?"

Tom coughed, probably he'd got more of the smoke from the explosions in his throat than he was admitting. "OK, sure. I'll, um, go lie on the bed and wait for you." Tom waved his hand vaguely, "the bathroom's that way…"

"Fine, I'm going, I'm going! You don't have to hint so obviously, as if I don't know where the bathroom is!" Harry gave one final rub down Tom's back, then trailed his hand down Tom's hip and thigh and grinned in approval as he elicited the usual response. "Sure you can walk all right with that bulge in your pants, honey?" he purred, then laughed and headed for the bathroom.

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Stepping out of the shower, he noticed there was only one towel on the rack and it was already sopping wet. Grumbling, he did his best to dry himself with it but was still noticeably damp when he made his way into the bedroom. Tom was sitting upright in bed with a PADD on his lap. Unusually, he was wearing a pyjama top and looked anything but relaxed and ready for bed.

Harry nodded towards the PADD, "Damage worse than we thought?" he asked.

Tom started. "Huh? What damage? Oh, this isn't a damage report." He waved the PADD in his hand, then put it on the bedside table. "I was just glancing over some personal logs."

"Well," Harry was surprised, "in that case I'll forgive you for using the last towel and forgetting to put another one out. I'll bet you're the only one on the ship who is organized enough to have already written your reports and be revising them! Though I don't think the Captain is going to be too fussy about your grammar and spelling this week."

Tom snorted, "Probably not, but Chakotay would still take a bite out of me even if he had to skip a meal to do it!"

Harry flung himself down on his side of the bed. "No one is taking a bite out of you tonight except me! Turn over and let me get at your back, then we'll take care of your other little problem." He smirked suggestively.

Tom slowly slid down in the bed and turned over so that he was lying on his stomach. Harry slapped his shoulder impatiently. "Come on, how am I supposed to massage you properly with a top on? Do you want to get oil all over it?" Struck by a sudden thought, Harry leapt up again. "Actually, speaking of oil, there's a new recipe I want to try. I'll just run to the replicator and be right back."

It took Harry longer than he thought to program the replicator to make the oil blend he wanted. The proton bursts must have damaged electrical systems all over ship, with the annoying side effect of deleting all his personal recipes off the database. He had them backed up in his own files, of course, but it was irritating to have to start from scratch. There also wouldn't be any of his favourite tea in the morning, though he supposed he could always settle for one of the Vulcan blends – somehow those files seemed to be secure.

He came back into their bedroom to find Tom lying on his face, this time without the pyjama top. "Much better. Now, you'll have to tell me if you like this one better. I've taken out the cinnamon which you said was too strong and put in star anise instead. I think that should be the perfect mix of aromatic, not too floral, and the spicy wood notes that I love with your skin." He put the bottle on the bedside table next to the PADD. "This way if we forget again to shower in the morning it will just smell like spicy cologne, and only you and I will know what it was! And Tuvok, of course…" he added reflectively.

"Tuvok? Oh, of course…" mumbled Tom.

He flicked the covers back, noting with some surprise that Tom had left his pyjama pants on, then comfortably straddled Tom's hips. Tom gave a small grunt as he did so. "Sorry, sweetie, did I jolt your back? You should really see the Doctor about it, you know. A proper muscle relaxant would do wonders on the days you are really tense. I know you prefer my hands, but I'm not really trained like he is." He leaned over to the bedside table and poured a generous amount of the oil into his hands to warm. Tom grunted something unintelligible about "bloody holograms" which he decided was better left unheard.

He began the therapeutic massage regimen that they had worked out together through trial and error. The rhythmic stroking of his hands over Tom's skin was slightly hypnotic, and he found himself settling into the familiar patterns of movement as his hands travelled over the well-known ground. The shoulders were tense, but not as much as he had expected from Tom's earlier reaction. He moved down the shoulder blades, into the small of the back, wriggling himself down onto Tom's thighs to allow his hands better access.

Gradually, the massage strokes became softer, more caressing and then morphed into something that was definitely foreplay. Harry could feel his own erection pressing into the back of Tom's buttocks, and Tom wasn't lying completely flat on the bed any more either. Harry gently slid his hands under Tom's stomach and urged him to turn over, at the same time lifting himself up to allow Tom to roll under him.

Then they were face to face, and Tom's eyes and hands were roaming over his face and his chest, and Tom was whispering, "I can't believe you're really here, that we're here together, when I thought I had lost you forever."

Harry leaned down and kissed him tenderly, "You didn't really lose me, I'm the same Harry you've always loved and I'm not going anywhere."

"Harry, I've loved you from the moment I first saw you being hustled by that Ferengi in the bar. Did you know that? You were so innocent and perfect…"

Harry rolled his eyes, "Yeah, yeah, so green and wet behind the ears you mean! Let's not go over that old ground again – you rescued me and you're my hero, so how can I possibly demonstrate my gratitude?" He ground his hips suggestively against Tom, rubbing their erections together and causing them both to groan.

"Oh, I don't know," Tom's eyes were glazing over with the many possibilities, "surprise me."

"OK," Harry grinned mischievously, "but remember you asked for it!" He suddenly slid down to sit between Tom's knees and took the whole length of his erection into his warm, wet mouth. He slid his lips up and down the shaft while massaging the tip skillfully with his tongue. Tom was incoherent with bliss, the last lucid thought in his mind before the pleasure white-out was something about the wisdom of choosing a lover who played the clarinet.

But Harry was just getting warmed up – he reached down behind Tom's balls and rubbed firmly behind the sac, pressing deeply but indirectly onto his pleasure centre. Tom moaned and jerked his hips to thrust deeper into Harry's mouth. Aware of the danger sign, Harry lightened the pressure with both fingers and lips but it was too late. Tom's hips were thrusting in their final, irresistible rhythm and after three or four thrusts Tom groaned deeply and Harry found his mouth filled with the hot salty spurts of Tom's seed.

"Ooooh, I'm sorry love." Tom groaned, this time with disappointment. "I didn't want it to be over so quickly but I've been thinking about you, about us together, for so long that it was just too overwhelming."

Harry sat up, flicking the dark hair out of his eyes. "You always were insatiable. In your vocabulary 'so long' obviously means about 72 hours of deprivation! Never mind," Harry grinned, "that was just to take the edge off. I haven't finished with you yet, not by a long shot." Harry slid along the bed to lie full length on his side facing Tom. "You could always return the favour, just while you get ready for the next round…"

Tom froze. Giving head always brought back unpleasant memories of Auckland and being forced. He wasn't sure he could overcome those associations so soon, not even with Harry. What exactly had his duplicate been doing with the duplicate Harry for nearly a year? In that much time he could have overcome all his old traumas, and for all he knew, acquired a whole set of new habits. He bit his tongue before asking any revealing questions, but then Harry rolled over and presented his back. Obviously it was a massage he had in mind, nothing else. Thank goodness, nothing else.

Tom sat up and poured some of the oil into his own hands and let it warm, stalling for time. He was more used to being massaged than massaging someone else. Would his other self have been the same? Obviously his back troubles meant that Harry massaged him regularly, but how often had they reversed roles? Would he be expected to have the expert knowledge that Harry had obviously accumulated over many months? And most importantly, how could he continue the charade at least long enough to have another round of mind-blowing fantasy-fulfilling sex with Harry?

He decided he had procrastinated long enough, and adopted the same straddled position over Harry that the other man had used earlier. Harry didn't comment, so clearly this was 'within tolerance' as B'Elanna might say. He tried to remember how Harry had stroked him earlier – shoulders first, then down the back in sequence. He tried to keep his strokes firm and even, though his hands were tiring quickly and his thumbs ached.

"Mmmm," murmured Harry finally, "you're so good to me tonight. But don't wear out your hands, I have other plans for them!" He smirked up at Tom from where his head was resting on his folded arms. Then, without warning, he suddenly bucked and twisted (in a way that made Tom envy his young and supple back) and Tom was tossed sideways onto the bed. Before he could even bounce Harry was plastered all over him, licking, kissing and running his hands up and down his body. They were lying facing one another with Harry's leg over Tom's thigh, which brought their hard-ons into convenient proximity. Tom pushed his hips forward just enough to touch the tip of his erect penis to Harry's similarly erect one, and Harry withdrew out of range. Tom relaxed and Harry moved closer again. Tom smiled, "Cock tease!"

Harry raised one eyebrow, "It's only teasing if I don't intend to deliver. But since I do…" He reached down between their bodies and grasped Tom firmly, stroking his full length a few times to send all the blood rushing to his groin. "Or maybe I want you to deliver again."

Tom could hardly speak, but managed to gasp out, "Both!"

Harry chuckled. "You are keen tonight. I was worried that all of today's adventures would have worn you out!"

"Not with you here, warm in my arms," said Tom seriously. "This is the best reassurance I can think of that you are really alive. I can hardly believe it even now."

Harry kissed him gently. "Believe it. I'm here, I love you and I'm not going anywhere."

"Marry me?" said Tom suddenly.

"What?" Harry blinked. "You've never mentioned this before."

"You've never nearly died before. I've never nearly lost you before. I want us to be together forever and this is the best way to show everyone." Tom looked down, away from Harry's eyes for a moment. "Unless you don't want to, of course."

"No, I do!" Harry smiled as Tom's head jerked up again. "I just wasn't sure you were ready to stop playing the field yet. We've been pretty discreet about our relationship – are you sure you're ready to disappoint Jenny and Megan and all the other girls who have been hanging after you?"

Tom shrugged one shoulder. "That was just flirting, it never meant anything. They'll live. It's you I want. Can we call the Captain right now, and tell her?"

Harry blinked again in surprise. "What's the rush? Think I might change my mind in the morning?"

"Maybe." Tom looked serious again, then grinned lightly. "You might find out something about me that you didn't like and change your mind – I want a witness!"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Drama queen. If you are willing to take the chance of the Captain biting your head off for calling in the middle of the night – you go right ahead!"

Without another word Tom rolled over to his bedside table and picked up his comm badge. "Paris to Captain Janeway."

The small tinny voice came over the comm. "Janeway here – this had better be important Lt. Paris."

"Yes, ma'am – Harry and I would like to announce our engagement and to ask you to officiate at our wedding." Tom elbowed Harry in the ribs.

"Yes, Captain, if you would do us the honour."

There was a startled pause. "Well, congratulations gentlemen! Of course I will, and Neelix will doubtless be pleased to cater the occasion as well. I suggest you call him – but you might like to wait until morning to do it. We all have busy days ahead, but it will be nice to have something to look forward to. Janeway out."

Tom placed the badge back on his bedside table, then rolled over the hugged Harry in an ecstasy of happiness. "Yes! We're committed! No backing out now – now you know that whatever happens I did my best to show you that I love you and I want us to have a happily ever after. With the emphasis on 'ever'."

Harry kissed him back. "As if I could ever doubt it! I love you too." Then taking Tom's hand he gently guided it down to his semi-hard erection. "But I think you were about to show me something before you got distracted."

"Mmm, yes, I was," said Tom. "I was going to show you that it isn't just musicians who have talented fingers!" He reached down between their bodies and grasped both of their cocks in one hand, while at the same time gently moving his hips to create friction between them. Harry gasped at the sensation of silky smooth skin moving over firmness, and a bead of fluid appeared at the tip of his now fully hard and extended erection. Tom smirked. "So you like that?" he murmured.

"Yeah," Harry sighed. "Looks like you still have a few new tricks up your sleeve. You've been holding out on me."

Tom waggled his eyebrows in an exaggerated leer. "Well, it would hardly do for me to reveal all my seduction secrets at once! But if you like, I can always go back to an old favourite." He suddenly pushed Harry over onto his back, leaned down and roughly bit one of the nipples while tweaking the other firmly with his free hand.

Harry groaned and arched his back in response. "Oh, it's like the nerves there are connected directly to my pleasure centres. How did you know I would like that so much when I didn't even know it myself?"

Tom hesitated briefly, then flicked Harry a mischievous grin. "Let's just say I had a mis-spent youth, over which I draw a veil of discretion."

"Mmm, whatever you say…" Harry mumbled. He was now thrusting his hips in rhythm with Tom's movements and their aligned erections moving against each other in Tom's hand was distracting, to say the least. Tom ended that line of speculation with a long kiss, pressing his lips to Harry's full soft ones and revelling in the sensation. Harry's mouth opened under his, and Tom's tongue swept past the full lips and inside, thrusting in mimicry of the action of his hips. He brought up both hands to once again massage Harry's nipples, enjoying their excited hardness almost as much as the hardness now resting between his thighs.

Tom rolled away onto his side, breaking the kiss, and Harry made a little protesting noise at the sudden abandonment. "Shhh, love," Tom reassured him. "I just need both hands free for this, and I promise you'll enjoy it." Gentle hands urged Harry to roll over onto his other side, which he did, ending up facing away from Tom. Before he could protest again he felt Tom spooning up behind him, snaking one long arm beneath him and around his waist to once again take hold of his weeping cock and give it a few loving strokes.

Tom's right hand was now free to tease Harry's nipples, to scratch and tickle lightly down the full length of his body, to lift each of his balls and gently massage – and all the while Tom's left hand was keeping up an irresistible and accelerating rhythm of stroking his shaft. Tom kept the touches of his right hand light and teasing, as a deliberate contrast to the firm and relentless stimulation of his left hand pumping Harry until the younger man was moaning and thrusting his hips with unfulfilled desire.

Tom felt with satisfaction the racing pulse and small involuntary movements as Harry writhed under his hands. The one disadvantage of this position meant that while he could use both hands to explore his lover's body, he couldn't at the same time see the expression on Harry's face. He particularly wanted to see how Harry responded to his next move, though he hoped there would be other opportunities for that. Now, he kept up a constant pumping with his left hand and reached down with to behind where Harry's balls were now firmly drawn up against his body, and pressed deeply and rhythmically on Harry's sweet spot.

Harry groaned again, the thrusting of his hips becoming shorter and more urgent. Tom tried not to focus too much on the rhythmic flexing of Harry's buttocks against his own increasingly needy erection. There would be time for that later, and he didn't want to lose control and rush anything. Not that Harry seemed in agreement with that idea – Harry appeared to know exactly where they were going and to be quite eager to get there.

Until Harry suddenly reached down and knocked Tom's hands away. "Stop," he gasped. "I want you inside me when I come."

Tom felt a shiver of delight and anticipation run through him. "OK honey, whatever you want," he whispered, and sat up to get some more of the massage oil. He was both excited and relieved at Harry's request. He had been reasonably sure that Harry would want to be on the bottom, but he had worried a little about how much reciprocation he would be expected to give. If Harry had wanted to take him in return… well, Harry didn't, so he need not worry about what to say or do. Harry wanted to come with Tom buried deep inside him, and that would be an arrangement that would suit them both perfectly.

Tom warmed some of the oil in his hands, and he leaned down for a moment to inhale the spicy scent. It reminded him of an open fire with pungent wood burning, mixed with a little hint of warm and spicy food. He wondered what it would be like to go camping with Harry, and cook over a campfire and them make love by its light… another day. Perhaps their honeymoon? He could program something like that for the holodeck with enough warning. If he started working on it now, it could be ready in time for their wedding!

"So are you going to drink that stuff, or are you going to use it for the purpose I intended when I replicated it?" grumbled Harry, interrupting Tom's reverie.

"Didn't you replicate it to massage my sore back?" said Tom, mock-innocently.

"That too," replied Harry agreeably. "But I can think of a better use right now, and if you don't get on with it I'll use it myself if I have to replicate a dildo to do it!"

"Now, now," soothed Tom. "That won't be necessary – besides, why use a replicator when you've got a warm, live lover right here and eager to please you?"

Harry didn't answer, just rolled further over onto his stomach and slid a pillow under his hips to elevate them slightly. In the face of such temptation, Tom was not at all inclined to quibble further. He quickly slicked the oil from his hands up and down the length of his shaft, keeping the movements as business-like and brisk as possible. He didn't need to be any further excited if this was going to last as long as he hoped. He silently thanked Harry for the earlier encounter, or he would be far too stimulated by now.

Finally ready, he positioned himself kneeling behind Harry and slowly and steadily pushed into his lover. The smooth heat and delicious friction nearly caused him to lose control anyway, but he paused with concern when he heard Harry groan. After a moment he realized the words were, "Oh God, don't stop, take me deeply…" Smiling slightly he pressed in deeper, finding Harry's pleasure centre and rubbing the head of his shaft over the small internal bump. Harry's moan confirmed that he was right on target, and he set himself to well and truly fuck Harry's brains out – he didn't think Harry should be able to talk at all!

He gripped Harry's hips in both of his hands, and pulling Harry up to his knees impaled him fully on his shaft. Harry was now half-seated on his lap, once again giving him access to Harry's straining cock. Knowing that Harry was by now desperately eager, he didn't muck around. He took the weeping erection firmly in hand and stroked it almost roughly in time to the thrusts of his hips as he rubbed the head of his own cock against Harry's pleasure gland.

In a moment Harry was crying out and the hot quick pulses of his climax spilled out over Tom's hand. The simultaneous contractions of his body around Tom's deeply buried cock ripped through his control and then Tom also was coming with groans and gasps of long-suppressed desire finally achieving satisfaction. It was, Harry was, even better than he had ever imagined. They collapsed to the bed, still joined, and fell into a sated sleep.

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In the morning Harry carefully eased his way out of bed without waking Tom, and headed into the bathroom. He hummed his way through a long hot shower, then decided that he needed a shave. Out of the shower he wrapped a towel around his hips and opened the bathroom drawer. No shaving kit. He wondered where he might have left it – bedside table? He wandered back into the bedroom, leaning over to give the now awake Tom a good morning kiss.

"Sleep well?" he asked. "I hope I didn't wake you with the shower."

"I need to get up soon anyway." Tom shrugged and picked up a PADD from his bedside table. "Let me have the bathroom when you're finished." He returned to reading his reports, but Harry had the odd impression he was watching covertly as Harry rummaged first in the bedside drawer, then went back into the bathroom again.

"Tom, have you seen my shaving kit?" he called through the doorway. "I always leave it in the bathroom drawer but it seems to have wandered off!"

"Forget it, use mine." Tom called back. "It's in the cabinet behind the mirror."

Wordless grumbles suggested that Harry would comply, but felt that this was a suboptimal solution to the problem. Tom had a sinking feeling that the whole situation was about to unravel.

Two minutes later Harry's increasingly wild-eyed face appeared in the bathroom door. "What's going on? No shaving kit? No *toothbrush*? Just one towel?" His eyes narrowed at Tom's lack of surprise. "You know what this is about, don't you? I don't live here in your universe, do I? If I go to that closet, will I find anything of mine?" He strode over to the cupboard and threw open the doors. One glance was enough to confirm that it contained only Tom's clothes.

"So, in this universe we don't live together." It was a statement. "Are we even lovers? In this universe did you rescue me from the Ferengi at Deep Space 9 – or was that all just acting? Why would you do that? Why would you let me believe I lived here, why would you take me to bed if it was all just an ACT?" Harry was shouting now, fists clenched, but face pale with agony and doubt.

Tom leapt out of bed and tried to take Harry's hand in his, but Harry folded his arms across his chest and glared at him. "Don't you dare touch me." He hissed.

Tom sat down again on the edge of the bed. "Try to see it from my side," he pleaded. "You walked in here – you that I've been dreaming about ever since we first met in that Ferengi bar at DS9. I'd never been brave enough to take our friendship that step further – wasn't sure how you'd respond. I wasn't the most popular guy on Voyager – but you were, and I didn't want to ruin that for you. I'd loved you from afar for nearly a year… Then you walked in here, comfortable and loving just how I'd always wanted it to be. I could hardly believe it was real – then later of course I realized that in your universe things had been different. In your universe I'd been braver and taken the risk and won the prize. How could I refuse when you put the prize in my hand, all unknowing? How could I resist?" Tom lowered his eyes and ran his hand through his hair. "Try to understand - I wanted it to be real. I tried to make it real." He looked up again, eyes wide and begging Harry to understand. "I wanted – I still want – us to be together forever! Last night was the first night for me, but I want it to be the first of many! Remember, I asked you to marry me – I did everything I could to show you I love you… knowing that this moment must come but hoping I could make our love real before it did…" He ran down in the face of Harry's hostile stare.

"So you took advantage of my ignorance to fulfill some fantasy of yours about the Harry who is now dead, is that right? Do I *fully* understand what you are telling me?" Harry gave a contemptuous snort. "You're not the Tom Paris I know. The Tom Paris I love was a real man, not a coward. We went home together from that Ferengi bar, boarded Voyager together the next day and have been together ever since. You're a snivelling coward, a crawling worm without the courage to take a risk and win the prize – you just wanted me from a distance when you could have had me in your life. Well, it's too late now."

Harry walked out to the middle of the room and before Tom realized what he was about to do, called for a site-to-site transport to his own quarters. Tom leaped from the bed towards him, but was only in time to sting his fingers on the edge of the transporter beam.

He slowly sat down on the bed again, alone in his quarters. Not a good beginning. But it *is* a beginning, dammit – this is *not* the end. The Captain had agreed to marry them – he had a witness! Struck with a new idea, he hurried into the bathroom to wash and dress. He needed to see the Captain before the morning staff meeting to get her help with his idea…

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The Beginning – to be continued…