Tom demonstrates his 'holoprogramming' skills.

Anagi whispers, 'And it's happy!' Julad whispers, 'And it's got no plot!' They stare dumbly at one another, amazed at their respective creative milestones.

Thanks to just about the entire trekslash community for beta'ing and the united nations peace-keeping force for running interference between the authors.... ;)

Harry Kim leaned against the side of the turbolift, head back, eyes shut. "What a boring shift," he muttered. "If I had to run one more diagnostic, I'd have collapsed in a screaming fit." He rubbed his hands over his face.

His best friend, Tom Paris, grinned from across the small space. "No, you wouldn't. You would have done it, made your report, and started the next one without a single word of complaint."

Harry shrugged tiredly. "Whatever you say. Deck four."

"Computer, cancel that. Deck six."

Harry turned curious eyes to Tom. "Why deck six?"

Tom moved closer, sliding his arms around Harry's waist to press a kiss to his temple. "I've got a new program for us," he replied mysteriously.

"Mmmm? I thought we'd already played in all your holoprograms." Harry shifted suggestively against Tom's body at the word 'played', beginning to feel a little more alert.

"I wrote us one yesterday, while you were on duty." The lift stopped and they separated, stepping into the corridor.

Harry looked at Tom as they walked, perplexed. "Is that why you didn't show for lunch? I can't believe you stood me up for a holoprogram while I faced Talaxian Bird's Nest Soup all alone."

Tom grimaced. "I take it that the soup wasn't a figure of speech."

Harry curled up his nose, recalling the thick, puce liquid, with bits of white flotsam. He shook his head and sighed. "With Neelix, it never is. Anyway," he added, "how could you possibly write a holoprogram in a day? I thought that writing a holoprogram was a 'long, complicated process, which took years to master requiring a particular aesthetic finesse which only seldom individuals...'".

Tom interrupted his lover with a sharp swat to backside. "You're forgetting what a talented programmer I am, gorgeous. I wrote something simple, but very effective."

"Nice change from time-consuming and hideously cheesy, I suppose," Harry retorted dryly.

The appearance of Vorik around the corner prevented Tom from wrestling Harry to the ground and tickling him until he apologized. Instead, he stuck his nose in the air and put on the aristocratic voice he'd learned at his father's knee.

"You have no understanding of my artistic soul. Your technically oriented mind is too literal to appreciate the subtly romantic nuances of my cynically excessive programming."

Harry just snorted as they halted in front of the holodeck panel, and Tom gave the computer instructions. He turned and gave Harry a cheeky wink as the doors opened.

They stepped inside, and as the doors slid shut behind them and disappeared, Harry turned around slowly. They were in the smallest holodeck program he'd ever seen. The 'room' wasn't much larger than their bed. The walls were dark stone, with niches holding lit candles, scenting the air with a woodsy fragrance. There was no roof, just a brilliantly starry earth sky above them. Harry looked down at the wooden floor, shuffling his feet through scattered rose petals.

"This is *it*?" he asked dubiously.

Tom clutched his heart. "Your lack of faith pains me, Harry. Computer, run subroutine 1."

A steaming whirlpool and piles of fluffy towels appeared before them. Harry looked appreciatively at the sight of the sunken tub. 'Simple and effective' was suddenly looking pretty good.

"Get in, lover." Harry wasted no time shedding his clothes and obeying, settling in with a blissful moan as the heat began to penetrate tired muscles. He lay back in the hot, foamy water and opened his arms, inviting his equally nude lover to join him. To his surprise, Tom merely shook his head, and after wrapping a towel about his waist, moved to sit on the floor next to the tub.

Starting with Harry's chest, Tom let water from his cupped hands dribble onto Harry's body, wetting him. He then produced a large sponge and began to lather it with scented soap, letting the bubbles drip down Harry's chest. Moving it slowly over the broad shoulders and down the arms and hands, Tom began to wash his lover clean.

Over the slick, smooth chest slid the cloth, covering Harry's dark nipples with tiny bubbles, making him shudder. He tensed as the hand moved lower, over his taut stomach, but gave a disappointed groan when the teasing hand ran between his thighs before moving on to his legs. His feet were given a thorough rub before Tom moved behind him, swirling the sponge on his back.

"I take it back," Harry mumbled, eyes closed as he luxuriated in the attention. The bridge shift which had ended only minutes ago seemed like yesterday, and it seemed as if the entire universe was this small, quiet room his lover had created for him. "You're a wonderful programmer."

Tom kissed the back of his neck. "You inspire me." Then he dunked Harry's head underwater. Before Harry could stop spluttering and begin cursing, Tom was shampooing his hair and massaging his scalp with firm fingers. The attention made his muscles melt instantly and complaints about the near-drowning died on Harry's tongue. Which, Harry thought, was exactly why Tom did it. He tried to work up the energy to complain but the fresh scent of the shampoo was filling his senses, thick lather trickled deliciously down his neck and Tom's fingers in his hair sent little shivers through the rest of his body.

"Mm-mmm", he moaned instead, "that feels good."

"It's supposed to," Tom teased as he stopped and moved to stand behind him. "Close your eyes and tilt your head back." Harry did as asked and was rewarded by a slow, sensuous stream of warm water rinsing his hair clean. Tom then ran his fingers through the black strands, shaking the excess water free before motioning for Harry to step out of the tub and onto a fluffy rug. The air had heated considerably from the tub's steam, and Harry was comfortably warm.

Ignoring the piles of towels, Tom walked behind Harry, admiring the way the water glistened on his lover's firm body. Mesmerized, he watched tiny droplets join up to form little streams which ran down the contours of Harry's torso as he shivered, aware of the intense gaze. Tom leaned over and sucked briefly at the damp nape in front of him, then ran his lips and tongue lightly over his shoulder blades.

Harry leaned back into his mouth and giggled. "Mmm, that tickles. What are you doing?"

"I'm licking you dry." Down the spine went the busy mouth.

"What?" Harry tried to move away, but Tom had clasped his arms around his waist. "You can not *lick* me *dry*. It's impossible."

"Really?" Tom ran teasing little licks over the plump cheeks. "I'll stop if you like." He licked a long languid line down the shadowy cleft between them.

The heat from the spa seemed to thicken and collect in Harry's groin. He shivered and spread his legs slightly. "Oh."

"Just say the word," tiny nibbles on the sensitive inner thighs, "and I'll use a towel." He punctuated each word with an open mouthed suckle at the water running back from Harry's pubic hair.

Harry only groaned in response and moved his legs further apart, inviting Tom to continue. Tom smiled against the damp skin and stopped. "You're right. Impossible to do." He grabbed one of the nearby towels and ran it over Harry briskly - ignoring the murmured protests from the ensign - until his golden skin was dry. Tom tossed away the damp towel and placed his palms against Harry's chest.

"Computer, run subroutine 2."

The room shimmered as Tom gave Harry a gentle shove. Harry landed amidst a pile of plush, soft pillows and looked around in amazement. The bathtub was gone and the floor had disappeared under dozens of silk cushions; blood red, midnight black, and a bright blue which matched his lover's eyes. A small table had appeared at Harry's elbow, overflowing with fresh fruit and a bottle of something bubbly. Harry smiled up at Tom, who flopped down beside him.

"I hope you're hungry, babe. The food's replicated, but the bubbly is real." He then draped his body across the younger man's, making a grab at Harry's hand when he reached for the platter of food.

"Hey," Harry protested. "I thought this was for me to eat."

Tom placed Harry's hand around his waist, urged him to do the same with the other, and wiggled in the embrace. "It is, lover, but I can think of better ways to feed you."

Harry's lips parted unconsciously in response to the wicked look on Tom's face. "Well, don't let me starve..."

Tom smiled and grabbed a piece of mango off the platter. He ran it slowly over his mouth, outlining his lips teasingly, licking at the juice dribbling down his fingers. Staring into Harry's enthralled gaze, Tom sucked the fruit into his mouth and then kissed Harry, pushing the mango into his mouth. Harry bit into it, chewing slowly, savoring the cool, succulent sweetness.

The remaining piece was fed to him in the same way, helped by Tom's tongue. They kissed around the pale golden flesh until it had melted down their throats. A new piece of fruit, plump and juicy, was presented between Tom's teeth. Harry bit into it and giggled as the peach spurted, sticky juice running down their chins. Tom fed Harry a few more wedges of peach, mango and strawberry, deliberately allowing the juices to trickle down their necks and mingle on Harry's body.

Grabbing the champagne, they shared the bottle in the same manner as the food: Tom taking a drink and transferring to Harry in a bubbly kiss. Giggles escaped Harry as it tickled his lips, which let the drink escape also, prompting more laughter which Tom silenced with more champagne. By the time they were finished, Harry was covered in a thin film of juice and drink; feeling very aroused, rather tingly, and utterly pliant. Moving closer for another sticky kiss, he whispered suggestively, "I'm going to need another bath."

Tom leaned in and ran his tongue over Harry's lips, then suckled briefly at his chin. "Don't worry, I'll take care of it." Tom worked his way down the arching neck and lapped the smooth chest clean, paying particular attention to Harry's nipples, circling them with his tongue, nipping gently until Harry groaned and leaned back.

"Mmm, I may never take another sonic shower again. You should do this professionally."

Tom was lapping juice from Harry's stomach and laughed into his navel, making Harry squirm from the vibration. "I'll keep that in mind if the Captain replaces me... Uh-oh."

"What?" Harry tried to sit up.

"You're clean. Now, what am I going to do?" He pouted up at his lover, resting his chin on the flat belly beneath him, feeling Harry's erection bobbing against his throat.

Harry groaned and fell back into the pillows once again. "Well, gee, Tom, I don't know." He pushed his hips up suggestively and asked, "What *could* we do?"

"Hmmm," Tom squinted as if in thought, "I just don't know, Har. I hadn't really planned this far ahead. I suppose we could run another subroutine." He smiled mischievously. "You pick."

"What?" That wasn't the answer Harry had expected. "I can't choose. I don't know any of your subroutines." He rubbed himself against Tom's chest and looked at him beseechingly. "Surely there's something better you could do..."

"That sounds like you're criticizing my programming again." Harry scowled at him, and Tom scowled back. "Come on, just pick a number between three and ten."

"Ten? You wrote *ten* of these things?" At Tom's pained expression, he sighed. "Fine, number five."

"Oh, Harry. Your favourite number? *Good choice*!" Harry scowled at his delighted expression. "Come on, babe, you have to be standing for this one." Paris stood and pulled the younger man to his feet. "Shut your eyes," he commanded.

Harry continued to look at him skeptically. Experience told him that whatever convoluted sequence Tom had planned, it would eventually feel very, very good. *This program may not be cheesy, but it's still too damn time-consuming,* he thought. Finally, he closed his eyes with a long suffering sigh.

"Thanks, sweetheart." He was rewarded with a quick peck on the lips before Tom asked the computer to run subroutine 5.

Harry opened his eyes immediately after the command and looked at the room, then at Tom, who was now sporting his trademarked 'innocent expression'. The pillows had disappeared, leaving a soft, black floor covering, but nothing else had changed.

"Look, Tom...," he began, tired of being teased, when there was a touch on his shoulder.

"Actually, I'm back here," said a familiar voice. Harry turned and his jaw dropped as he looked into the eyes of another Tom Paris, clad in a similar towel. Back and forth went his head, bouncing between the holographic image of his lover, and the real thing.

"You like?" the hologram asked in Tom's voice, posing in front of him as the real Tom laughed at Harry's amazement.

As if triggered by some invisible cue, they both let the towels slip 'accidentally', recovering the fabric only after revealing two tantalizing expanses of milky skin. The identical demure blushes were offset by sapphire eyes sparkling with mischief and lust. Apparently he was in for a perfectly choreographed double seduction, and his cock was already responding to the idea. Only Tom could think of something like this; and there was no doubt that Tom would dare to really do it. Harry swallowed. Hard.


"I made a copy of my character from Tuvok's mutiny simulation," Tom explained, "and added a few relevant details which are omitted from Starfleet simulations." He smirked at his counterpart, who returned the look, and then they both turned their attention to Harry.

Harry's heartrate skipped a beat. Then doubled.

"So, close your eyes again, sweetheart." Harry's shivered as the familiar tones of that voice wound their way through his body.

"What... what are you going to do?" he was surprised to hear his voice trembling. He let his eyelids fall, and heard the same voice on the other side of him.

"I'm going to suck you off while I take you from behind." The voice sounded again, from behind him now, smug and husky at the same time. "I've always wanted to do that."

Harry's arousal spiked. The images his mind was creating from those simple words were frightening in their intensity. His every worry, every ache, his every thought, disappeared. Nothing remained but the sight of Tom, both Toms, burning behind his eyelids.

He jumped as two hands drifted possessively down his chest. Tender fingers stroked his cheek and lips as another set of hands skittered across his back, lightly teasing his skin as he arched into the touch. Lips brushed across his shoulder and on the opposite side a tongue flicked at his sensitive earlobe and slicked a path down his jaw. Harry belatedly noticed that they were circling him.

"Tom?" It was more a moan than a question.

"Ye-ess?" The answer from the two voices was more an invitation.

"Please," he whispered, barely able to speak.

"Please what, Harry?" The question came from his left, Tom's warm breath blowing into his ear. "Please, this?"

Harry started when a delicate kiss was placed on his right eye, and a tongue drawn across his eyebrow. "Or this?" sounded in his right ear, and the left side of his face was nuzzled. He didn't know which way to turn. Lips caressed his, from both sides, and he shuddered, opening his mouth, letting tongues tangle with his in a three-way kiss. Overwhelmed at the sensation he pulled his head back and opened his eyes. Both Toms looked at him, four lazy, confident blue eyes watching, eyelids drooping, pupils dilated. Harry abruptly realized he had lost track of which one was real and which one was imaginary. He whimpered, lost.

"Sshh, this will be so good, sweetheart. I'll take care of you." The Tom on the left consoled him with a gentle kiss on his brow, before moving behind him and encircling him in his arms. Feather touches stroked down his arms and guided his hands to the walls, giving him the support to stand under the dual assault.

A hot mouth nipped at his lower lip and he surrendered immediately, taking his lover's tongue in. Fingers danced across his chest until they found his tight nipples, pinching them roughly, making Harry arch his back and groan. Tom's mouth left his and took advantage of the neck Harry offered up in sacrifice, tasting it, sucking at the pulse points until the almond skin bruised.

"You are so beautiful, Harry." The whispered words flowed through him; the pleasure of his lover's rough voice in his ear merging with the fierce lips at his throat, and the hazy, delicious tingling which seemed to come from inside his skin. He was warm from the bath, flushed hotter from the champagne and now burning up with need and desire. His entire body thrummed with the many carressing touches. Hands slid down his back and cupped his ass cheeks, kneading them gently. Harry leaned his head back, resting it against Tom's shoulder, drowning in the pilot's voice, letting it wind about him.

"I had to jack off twice while programming this. I kept thinking of what I was going to do you. How good it would be with you in my mouth and me in your ass." The soft words taunted Harry with the image of the blond man bringing himself to completion with his usual abandon: lying naked on the bed, or leaning on a wall, flushed, panting, giving himself to his fantasy unreservedly.

In unconscious imitation, Harry relaxed into the pleasure overwhelming his body. A slick finger slid down between the mounds of his ass and stroked over him teasingly, and he pressed against it, encouraging more. Then the busy mouth at his neck worked downwards, trailing delicate little nips down his chest until it engulfed a nipple and Harry shifted towards it, moving his head restlessly as layers and layers of sensations rippled over him.

"That's good, isn't it?" Tom's voice continued, caressing him all over. "I love the way you respond to me. Those little begging noises you make..." The finger at his cleft touched, teased and petted, always stopping short of what Harry ached for, and he moaned his need low in this throat. "Yes, that's the one." Tom's low chuckle vibrated through his ear, raising goosebumps on his overheated flesh.

Harry trembled as the teasing finger finally entered him, moving in infuriating counterpoint with the teeth and tongue working on his nipples. His shuddered violently, his quivering arms no longer able to support him; he started to collapse and then stiffened with a cry, impaled by the thrusting finger. His own fingers found themselves clenching deep in the golden hair of the man in front of him, feeling him accept his weight as the man behind him clutched him closer. He could feel the slow slide of moisture down his cock, the air seeming alive with tiny little fingers of current stroking at him.

"Is that what you need, baby?" A second cool finger slid into him at the same time as fifteen holodeck-lubed fingers grasped his cock, sliding over each other and twining about the heat. Harry cried out and jerked uncontrollably, drawn close to the edge but refused relief by the uneven movements of his tormentors. Thick sparks of desire were crackling along his body, burning every nerve in his skin as they searched frantically for an outlet. He begged for release with sharp little cries that were torn from his throat.

His balls were gently massaged and a stray finger ran over the sensitive skin behind them. There were sharp little pinches on his inner thighs that bordered on pain, but another hand came after the first and soothed them with light touches. Still that mouth moved maddeningly over his chest, and teeth nipped at his neck and shoulders. A third finger and Harry could no longer contain the movement of his body; he was unraveling under the multiple sensations, his cock hard and aching, searing him with his own pleasure. He made a noise which could have been a word, but he couldn't remember what he needed to say. He simply *needed*.

There was a shift and suddenly the tormenting play on his nipples ceased, the hands stopped their play and the fingers withdrew. He sobbed aloud at the loss, bereft. He felt the man before him kneel; hot breath flowing across his thighs; a hard blunt pressure behind him.

Tom pushed into him slowly, gently, a questing hand finding and anchoring itself to a hard nipple, another grasping the base of Harry's cock, to hold it for the kneeling Tom; who ran his mouth up the underside of the weeping cock, stopping to gently suck the salty moisture from the head while he used his hands to part the cheeks of Harry's ass for the invader.

Harry could hear Tom's breathy pants in his ear as he rocked himself slowly back and forth into his body, and the liquid sound of Tom's mouth moving up and down his shaft. Looking down at Tom who was wrapping his lips around his cock and staring up at him with wide, adoring eyes; leaning back into Tom who was filling him, rolling a nipple and sucking on his ear, he nearly blacked out from overwhelming arousal.

"Oh, God." He couldn't stop shaking and his ears filled with his own frightened little pants. His hands fluttered about, settling briefly on the head at his waist before grasping at the hands of the man behind him, and then off again.

"Let go now, baby," the voice caressed him like warm, rough silk, cooing. "Come for me."

Harry cried out in pleasure at the sound. He was wound too tightly and every sound, every movement, every touch pushed him higher. It was too much sensation and he couldn't focus. The Tom in front of him pulled his cock in deeper, working throat muscles about the head, and the Tom behind was now stroking deep with every thrust. Harry could only lean his head back onto Tom's shoulder and cry brokenly, feeling nothing but burning, searing pleasure and thinking nothing at all. The salty taste of his own tears barely registered on his tongue and he choked on his urgent pleas. "Help me, I can't... can't... Tom... too much..."

Suddenly his cock was free, shockingly cold without the wet heat surrounding it, and he was staring into the deep eyes of his now standing lover. Without the anchor at his waist, the next thrust deep into his ass pushed him forward, trapping Tom against the wall. Harry leaned into him and the Tom behind him placed both hands on either side of their heads, never slowing his motions.

Harry could feel his erection trapped against his lover's sweat-slick belly, painful with need. Tom was writhing against him, holding his gaze with wide blue eyes, his face flushed and glowing. He ran a hand through Harry's still damp hair, murmuring encouragement, pulling Harry's head closer to whisper softly in his ear. "You can do it, Harry. Doesn't that feel good? To feel me inside you, fucking your ass?"

Harry gasped breathlessly, assenting and pleading at once, then latching onto Tom's mouth with desperate force. His hands grasped uncontrollably at the fine, blonde hair as he blindly sought the release he needed. The relief that wouldn't come. Tom felt the panicked need in Harry's kiss and pulled away, eliciting a broken keen of protest from Harry's parted lips.

"Watch me, baby. Watch me come for you." The man behind him pulled him back slightly, until Harry could see down Tom's body. Could see him taking his own erection in hand and pumping it firmly as he watched himself fuck his lover. Little sounds escaped Harry's wet lips as he watched the hand moving back and forth, the thumb stroking over the slick head.

Tom began to angle his strokes, teasing Harry's prostate, his balls slapping his ass in time with Tom's kneading rhythm; the stabbing pressure sending rippling ecstasy out from the younger man's groin. A hand grabbed Harry's cock, drawing him to the knife's edge as Tom groaned and pushed against him once, twice, and Harry could feel him jerking inside him and then a hot spurt hit his belly.

Then with a startled cry Harry was splintering apart, shivering, falling, soaring, rushing, burning andtomwascallingtohim....

Harry opened his eyes slowly, smiling muzzily at the pale, worried face floating above him.

"Harry? Come on, buddy. Wake-up. That's it. There you go."


"Are you okay?"


With a sigh of relief Tom flopped down beside him and closed his eyes. Harry snuggled closer to his now-solitary lover, warm and tired and tingly, with an unbearably sweet ache in his muscles and ass. Time passed without form as they dozed.

Eventually becoming conscious of their indecently sticky, sweaty bodies and vaguely noticing that the silk cushions were back, Harry slowly recalled how he got into this state.

"Tom?" No response. Harry nudged him weakly. A soft moan confirmed that his lover was at least still awake, so Harry continued. "What did you mean about number five? Did you *know* that I'd pick that one?" The tired moan this time sounded more like stifled laughter.

Tom rolled over, stretching, and sprawled his lean body all over Harry's. "You didn't seem to think it was a bad choice," he whispered softly, letting his lips be tickled by the soft, damp hair.

"Not bad, no." Harry ran his hands lazily up and down his lover's back. "In fact, I think you should write 'simple and effective' holoprograms *much* more often."

"Hey! I think I resent that." Harry laughed and tenderly kissed away the teasing pout. "And besides," Tom continued cheerfully, "there's no need for me to write anything anymore. The other subroutines will keep us happy for a long, long time."

"Oh...? And they would be..." Harry seemed to be waking up fast, since his hands were drifting lower and lower with each soft caress.

Tom pulled one of those hands to his mouth and started nibbling fingers, sending little aftershocks of pleasure through Harry's buzzing nerves.

"Well, a massage table, obviously, and a sauna," he began around a mouthful of thumb. "I put in a zero-g environment with a lot of handholds, and there's some chains and leather for when you've been a bad boy..."

Harry moaned his approval of Tom's words, or his questing lips, or both. The lips traveled down Harry's forearm, a tongue darted into the crease of his elbow, and the words continued. "If we need to work out, we now have a wrestling mat with optional whipped cream and hot fudge sauce..."


"But my *piece de resistance*," - Tom let up his nibbling to gesture grandly - "aside from my *other* piece de resistance, of course," - Harry wriggled his appreciation for Subroutine Five- "is a trampoline!"

"A *what*?!?" Harry blinked several times, trying to process the information. He glanced about warily. "What is it? I've never heard of it."

"Trust me, Harry, this will be *so* much fun. My fascination for twentieth century trivia has paid off big this time! That's why there's no ceiling in this holoprogram. Although," Tom dropped his voice to a conspiratorial whisper, "apparently it was used as a children's toy - what a waste!"

Harry stared incredulously at his grinning lover, at the stone walls of their tiny program, and at the stars above him, absolutely bewildered. Then his natural inquisitiveness overrode the last of his lassitude, and he couldn't help smiling.

"Sounds... intriguing. Can I see it now?"

"Hmmm. I suppose you're... up to it." Tom planted a lingering kiss on Harry's lips and pulled him to his feet. "Computer, replicate a bottle of K'Tarian champagne and run subroutine nine..."

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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.