Rite
Harry Kim looked at his best friend through sweaty, limp bangs. "You know Paris, if I live through this, I am never, *ever*, going on shore leave with you again... *uugghh*." Harry closed his eyes and rolled his head back as a wave of sensation passed over him. He shuddered briefly and gave a near-silent moan, before resuming, "or on an away team mission. In fact, I don't even want to *eat* in the same room with you." He gave another tired shiver and sighed, wetting his lips with his tongue.

Paris spasmodically clenched his hands against nude, sweat-slicked thighs and panted out, "Come on Har, don't be that way. It wasn't my fault. You asked to come along." The feeling twisting about his spine ebbed and he relaxed slightly. "Anyway," he managed to smirk, "it could be worse. I could be Tuvok... or Neelix."

Harry grimaced at the thought, then smiled. "Yeah, well, it could be a whole lot *better* too. You could be B'Elanna and... "

"Hey, *you* could be B'Elanna," Paris began, when yet another empathic wave, stronger than the last, enfolded them, burrowing through their nervous systems. Tom cried out, arching his back in painful pleasure, hearing the same sharp noises from his best friend. It crashed over them, gone as quickly as it came, leaving them both trembling and spent, covered in their own semen.

Paris stirred first, but remained laying on the ground trying to sort his thoughts. This was not what he had imagined when he'd originally agreed to come. The open invitation issued to Voyager by the empathic L'Treece during trade negotiations had seemed like a godsend. A Renewal Festival. It was a perfect chance to get away from the ship. Away from... distractions. He would eat, make a few moves on the ladies, and drink until he passed out. Simple and to the point.

He should have known better. Nothing in his life was ever simple *or* to the point. A prime example was now laying about 2 feet away, nude, aroused, and oblivious to his best friend's interest. The pilot sighed. Everything came back to Harry... Harry's presence, Harry's voice, Harry's scent, Harry's lips, Harry's...

Hell. He should have said no when Harry changed his mind at the last minute and asked to come along. He should have told him he already had plans. He should have, but he didn't. He couldn't. He looked into those trusting eyes and that open face and his heart answered before his brain could. "Yes." What harm could it cause... What harm indeed. This was one of the Delta Quadrants finer fuck with Paris ironies. Fall in love with your best friend, who is less than not interested in a fly-by-night ex-con, and bring him to an empathic orgy.

He sighed and shook his head clear, rising on shaky legs. It was taking longer for them to recover with each successive experience, although he noticed that once again his erection had not flagged. Damn, how long was this ceremony going to last?

He walked unsteadily to Harry, who was lying motionless, his arm draped over his face. Paris tried desperately to ignore the leap his heart gave at the sight of that bare body and told himself again that Harry was his friend. And if he wanted him to remain his friend, he would have to control himself.

"You want the shower first this time?" The younger man didn't respond and Paris knelt beside him. He reached out and began to stroke the damp hair tenderly when he saw the shaking start. "Sshh, it's okay," he soothed, suddenly afraid for Harry.

Harry lowered his arm and Paris saw that the ensign was laughing, not crying. "I don't think my legs work."

"And you think that's funny?" Paris scowled and sat back on his heels, erection bobbing in time with Harry's throaty laugh.

"I was just thinking about how I was going to explain this to the Doctor. Maybe he'll give a lecture on Mornings With Neelix: How to prevent leg cramps due to multiple orgasms, when involved in the empathic, sexual ceremonies of other lifeforms."

Paris laughed and leaned against the wall. He thought for a moment, "How about: Maintaining your poise while maintaining your erection."

They both laughed until they were breathless, toeing the edge of hysteria.

"God, I feel like I'm losing my mind. That *doesn't* require an answer," Harry warned when Tom opened his mouth. He smiled at Paris' attempt to look innocent and then sighed heavily. "Do you think if we put out a white flag they'd let us go?"

"What? You want to leave this veritable paradise? Harry, I'm shocked." Tom was still in the spirit of things and waved his arms around, encompassing the 10' x 10' room. "Look around. We've got a private shower... " Harry looked skeptically at the tiny stall with no door. "A plush bedding area." Several pillows piled on a small mattress. "A feast of immense proportions." A bowl of unidentified fruit and a carafe of water. "All the convenient accouterments for a sexual orgy." Dozens of bottles of oil and several unidentifiable *toys*. "And, of course, the company of the most desirable pilot in the Delta quadrant." Tom arched an eyebrow and pressed a hand humbly to his own chest, bowing his head regally. "Really, Ensign, what more could you ask for?"

Harry smiled dryly. "Shall I assume that was a rhetorical question?"

"Hey, remarks like that will not get you into my pants. Well, it wouldn't *if* I were wearing any. Come on." Tom smiled and poked Harry in the ribs as he stood. "You can have the shower first."

Harry sat up and pulled a leg under him, before grimacing and slumping against the wall. "I can't. My legs really are shot." He rubbed his calves. "Cramps."

Tom looked down the bent head, level with his erection, and forced down a groan. "How about I take the first shower and then give you a hand. We'll be ready for the next attack in no time. We *do not* want anyone to hear that we were done in by a fertility rite. I have a helmboy reputation to protect. Furthermore, if this got out, the Delaneys would never double date us again."

"You say that like it's a bad thing. And quit waving that thing around, you're gonna put out my eye." Harry dodged Tom's erection and blushed.

"In your dreams." Tom laughed and ruffled Harry's hair before walking to the shower. In MY dreams, he thought as he ran the water till it was lukewarm and stepped inside, washing the sweat and semen from himself quickly. He then gathered up the exhausted ensign and pulled him into the small enclosure, cursing the fates that put him through this torture.

He maneuvered about until Harry rested entirely against him; the black haired head on his shoulder and arms clasped loosely around his waist, erection nestled against his belly. Harry's breath was steady and warm against Tom's neck and he had to restrain himself from rubbing his cheek against the head resting so comfortably on him. He gently ran a scented cloth over his companion's body, trying to ignore the electricity of the slick, wet skin under his hand, and then leaned back until the water ran between them, rinsing Harry clean. Harry's erection brushed up against Tom's and the blond shivered, biting back a moan.

"Sorry," came the tired, embarrassed murmur.

"Don't worry about it, it's not gonna put out my eye." Harry chuckled as Tom continued, "Remember, we agreed to give up embarrassment 5 hours and 4 orgasms ago. Come on, out you go. Sleepy time." Tom ran a towel over Harry quickly and helped him walk to the bed, before drying himself off and returning to the small bed. He found Harry stretched out, reminding Tom of a cat napping in the sunshine. Tom sat down beside him and ignoring the throbbing in his belly, put his hand on Harry's back.

"Do you want me to rub your legs?"

"You sure you wouldn't mind?" came the sleepy reply.

"No. My pleasure." Tom grabbed a bowl of oil from the shelf next to the bed and looked down at the golden body stretched before him. His erection felt fuller, if at all possible. He shook his head and poured some oil into his cupped hand, then drizzled it onto the back of the hard legs in front of him. He ran his palms up and over the calves, marveling in the difference of skin color. Tom thought his paleness looked anemic next to this glowing body. The beautiful almond colored skin was warm and sleek beneath his hands.

The muscles responded to Tom's touch and shifted under the caresses, relaxing. Harry groaned and shifted slightly, then let out a sleepy yawn before thanking him and rolling away. Tom forced his hands to his side, lowering himself to the mattress next to his best friend. That soft black hair in front of him seemed to beg Paris to run his hands through it, even sweaty and disordered as it was. When Harry's hair was neat, he wanted to run his hands through and mess it up. Now that it was messy, the need to touch it was almost irresistible. He would stroke it once, because he knew it couldn't be as soft as he imagined. Just once, he thought as he closed his eyes. Just once...

"Tom."

Tom awoke with a jerk. He blinked sleepily, trying to get his bearings, wondering what woke him. Nothing moved as he scanned the room and slowly he closed his eyes again. Sinking back down into sleep, he absently rubbed his erection against the mattress. The empathic tug of arousal winding through him was vague but he could feel it growing.

"Tom."

He heard it that time. A quiet puff of breath with his name in it. He rolled over and looked towards Harry and froze, captured. The ensign was on his back, arched like a bow, throat exposed and eyes closed. His hands were clenched tightly in the bed coverings and he was breathing softly between bite-swollen lips. His skin was covered in a fine sheen of sweat and Tom had to fight the urge to lick it away. Down the taut body went Tom's gaze until it rested on Harry's swollen shaft. A sudden gasp from Harry and Tom looked up guiltily, but Harry's eyes remained closed.

He was sleeping. Dreaming.

"Tom." Again came the panting little cry from that open mouth and Tom was breathless, trapped by the implication of that one simple word. He licked his lips and smiled.

Harry wanted him.

A tiny moan, a roll of the hips, and Harry settled back down, breathing shallowly. Tom could feel the coiling heat pushing through his body and he relished it. He reached out and dragged his thumb over a wet, lower lip.

"Har," he whispered. No response so he said it again, louder. "*Harry*."

Harry's eyes fluttered open and then closed again. "Hmmm," he murmured, rolling his head towards the breath tickling his ear and rubbing his cheek against the sheet.

Tom leaned in, closed his eyes, and replaced his thumb with his lips, lightly tracing the outline of Harry's mouth. Harry moaned and Tom took the opportunity to slip his tongue inside, delicately stroking and prodding, while he caressed the golden cheek with his fingertips. When he felt Harry's lips move beneath his, Tom groaned and gathered the younger man close, rubbing his erection against a muscular thigh.

He wanted to ravage the open mouth beneath him, to try and pull Harry's essence into himself. Kisses weren't enough. He pulled his mouth away and frantically began to bathe the smooth chest with his tongue, delighting in the salty moisture. Dark nipples were laved and worshipped. More nectar from that flat belly and he finally reached his goal.

He was kneeling now, straddling one of Harry's thighs, drowning in the pressure between his legs. He took Harry's length in hand, looking away from the plumed head, into the cinnamon eyes that watched him, at the mouth that was forming a word. Tom was suddenly afraid those beautiful lips would say no, but he waited, questioningly, until Harry spoke.

"Please."

Tom shuddered in relief, and releasing Harry's erection, dipped both hands into the shallow bowl of oil that he had used on him earlier. Harry licked his lips as Tom slowly brought his dripping fingers over his belly and grasped his cock again. Maintaining eye contact, he leaned over and ran his mouth from base to tip, suckling gently at the damp slit, pleased when Harry swallowed his name in a moan. Tom closed his eyes and savored the flavors that mingled on his tongue. Oil, stale sweat and arousal mixed with the tang that leaked from Harry. He revered the sounds of Harry's gasping cries, the trembling stroke of unsteady hands which touched his hair lightly before fluttering away.

Tom drew his length into his mouth and throat and felt Harry's heartbeat. He fluttered his tongue and was rewarded by the throb of Harry's cock. Running his teeth gently over the tip, he bit softly, then fucked the cleft with the a pointed tongue tip. Long fingers roamed with short feathery touches.

His fingers played up and down the half-hidden crevice and probed gently until he gained entrance and stroked deep, first with one finger, then two. When he pushed in a third, Harry arched and cried out his name, filling his mouth with fluid. Tom moaned in tandem, pushing himself against Harry's leg, praying he wouldn't come, wishing that he would.

Harry moved unsteadily, forcing Tom off his lower body. Tom panicked for a moment, watching Harry rolling away from him. But then he caught the murmur of his name and the sight of that smooth ass pushing up at him. It was more than enough invitation and Tom scrambled to his knees, running his oily hands over his throbbing erection.

He positioned himself, pushing into that tight, warm body, pulling Harry to his knees. Harry groaned and leaned back, driving Tom in deeper. Tom ran his hands over the smooth back in front of him, leaning forward with each thrust to kiss and bite at every individual vertebrae, worshipping each small ridge with his mouth. A mouth that left small red nips alongside the bruises left by the fevered clasp of long fingers.

Tom's thrusts were jerky and frantic, caught between the hot, tight feeling of being buried in Harry's body and the consuming need to find release. Harry writhed underneath him, chanting his name with every breath, his ass gripping and vibrating along Tom's cock.

With one last push, Tom came, his brain freezing and contracting to one point of light and all that existed was the perfect clutch of Harry's body upon his own. Harry shuddered and gave a final backwards movement, before falling forward, bringing Tom with him. Tom hummed lightly under his breath. His body ached with satisfaction and the alien buzz at the back of his head was gone, along with his erection. Either the ceremony was over or they had found the cure. Tom discovered that he really didn't care if he ever found out which one it was. He only wanted to sleep with Harry lax in his arms. He nuzzled closer, wanting to capture this moment forever.

"I've changed my mind," he whispered into the compelling curve of an ear beneath his lips, "I'm glad you're not B'Elanna... Or Neelix."

Harry gave a breathy chuckle. After a moment of silence Tom nudged him slightly. "What about you?"

"What about me?" Harry responded with a sleepy voice.

"Have *you* changed your mind?"

Harry rolled, dislodging Tom and pulling him into a loose embrace. "I don't know," he replied teasingly, "I haven't seen what Neelix can do under these conditions."

Tom laughed and burrowed himself in closer. "You'll never have the chance, Harry. I'm not going to ever let you go."

Harry's warm voice washed over him, "then I guess you better let the Captain know that well be enjoying the festival another night."

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Disclaimer: These characters belong to Paramount and the author makes no claims upon them - no copyright infrigement is intended. This story is for entertainment purposes only and there is no monetary gain.