Reasonable Pursuits

BY : Lursa_and_BeTor
Category: 1 through F > Andromeda
Dragon prints: 4877
Disclaimer: I do not own Andromeda, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Harper yawns widely. He holds up a tiny disc, staring at it for a long moment before dropping it in a box with its siblings. He picks up a can of Sparky Cola and shakes it. Empty. Ah, well, he is so exhausted that he is at the point where even Sparky cannot revive him. He has to get some sleep soon. As soon as Dylan shows up to claim his new toys, its lights out for good boys.

“Rom Doll?”

“Yes Harper?” The holographic image of Andromeda appeared in front of the engineer.

“Inform Dylan that his project is finished.” He yawns again. “I’m going nighty night.”

He peers in the small box. The Divine alone knew where Dylan planned on sticking his little spy bugs. Just as long as Harper did not know. If any enraged parties stomped into his workshop, he wanted to be able to claim blissful ignorance or at least, plausible deniability. “The last thing I need is for Tyr to decide to dislocate all my limbs over this.”

He can see it now. Tyr’s big hand wraps around his throat while he squeaks in simulated amazement, “You found what? Why no, Tyr, I had no idea. Yes, of course, I made it for Dylan but I had absolutely, positively no idea that he was going to stick it on your…”

Hmmm. Where would Dylan stick it? Harper knows where he would stick it. Oh, yeah, he wouldn’t mind a close up view of…but that was a sure and certain route to sudden death. It might even rate a slow, lingering death.

Of course, he could be wrong in his speculations about the intended victim but somehow, he has the feeling that Tyr is at the top of the list. Dylan seems to like Beka and is willing to trust her as long as no money is involved. Trance…Harper grins. No, he couldn’t see Dylan going to the trouble to bug Trance. That just leaves…Harper shook his head. One of the advantages of being a little guy was that he didn’t register with Dylan as a possible threat. But, just in case, he had also put in some time modifying his scanner to detect the little bugs.

“Harper, you’ve finished them?” Dylan walks into the workshop, radiating enough cheer and good to to make Harper very suspicious. “Andromeda told me you were done.”

Harper holds out the box. Finally a little quality sleep time coming up now that Dylan’s rush order is completed. “There you go, boss. Your own little box of treats. Don’t spend ‘em all at one time.”

“Good. Good.” Dylan smiles widely but doesn’t take the proffered box. “We’re ready for Phase Two.”

“Phase Two?” Harper stares back at him. This does not sound good. This does not sound like anything that involved sleeping and a bed. This sounds like more work. “We?”

“Phase Two.” Dylan squeezes the engineer’s shoulder in an encouraging manner. “I’m going to need you for this one, Harper.”

Harper stares down at the box in his hands. Why is he so NOT surprised? Maybe he can sneak in a nap before, the Divine help him, implementing Phase Two. He has a bad feeling about Phase Two but maybe he is being overly pessimistic due to extreme lack of sleep. Maybe Dylan only wants him to build something else. “What do you need me to make? And can it wait until I’ve had…oh…about a week’s worth of sleep?”

“Oh, you won’t need to make anything, Mr. Harper. It won’t even take you very long.” Dylan leans closer, lowering his voice. “I’m going to make certain that Tyr is occupied for awhile and away from his quarters. While I’m doing that, your job is to plant the…ah, devices.”

He is doomed. Doomed. Doomed. Doomed. Harper shifts the box nervously from hand to hand. “Ah, boss, if you don’t mind me asking…um, why do you want the bugs in Tyr’s quarters? Andromeda can keep an eye on him perfectly well in there.”

“Precisely, Mr. Harper.” Dylan beams at him. “So I don’t need the, the devices placed in Tyr’s quarters. He never does anything interesting in there anyway. No, I need to record what he does when he isn’t on the ship. I take the safety of this ship and crew very seriously. That’s why I have to know, Harper. Just think of all the dangerous things that Tyr has involved this ship in.”

Harper snorts. If there were a contest over whether Dylan or Tyr had endangered Andromeda the most often, Dylan would be the front-runner. Still, the man is the Captain. “Okay…I’ll get on this first thing in the morning.”

“You don’t understand, Harper. This has to be done now.”

Harper sighs. “How long do I have? I need time to hide these things well enough that he won’t find them. You know how suspicious he is.”

“Hide the devices in his clothes, Harper. After all, he can hardly go to a meeting without them.”

For a second, Harper wishes that he were as big and built as Tyr. It would be so satisfying to thunk Dylan’s head into a wall. Hard. Some days it is more of an effort than others to keep his mask of harmless, amiable engineer on. “Well, in case you haven’t noticed, boss. Tyr doesn’t really wear all that much. I don’t know where I’m going to put these things.”

Dylan claps him on the shoulder again. “I have faith in you Harper. I know you’ll think of something.”

“Yeah, boss.” Harper entertains a brief glorious vision of a completely nude Tyr roaming the ship. Maybe showing up in certain engineer’s workshop. He lets the fantasy go with a sigh of longing. Not gonna happen but a guy can dream. “Uh, okay. How long did you say I have to plant these?”

“Don’t worry. I’ll see that you have plenty of time.”

Could he, at least, catch a nap before showtime? “Plenty of time starting from when exactly?”

“Right now. Tyr is on the Observation Deck. I’ll go engage him in conversation until you have had a chance to hide the devices.” Dylan grins and leaves.

“Why me? Why is it always my skinny ass on the line all the time?” Harper stands up, clutching the little box tightly in his hand. He walks through the door and heads for Tyr’s territory. The sooner he gets this done, the sooner he can get some sleep.

He stumbles down the corridor, considering his options. Hmmm…now where should he place the bugs? As tight as the Nietzschean’s pants were there was no chance of slipping anything else in there, no matter how thin. Then there were all those mesh and see through shirts. Tyr’s garments just weren’t designed to hide anything. They were designed to display everything and make certain engineers overcome with the desire to touch aick ick and…okay, enough of that. He has a job to do. A job that just happens to give him an excuse to be in Tyr’s quarters.

He pauses outside the door, glancing up and down the corridor. No one there. Harper frowns as the door slides open with no trouble. That’s odd. He adjusts his tool belt nervously. He’d expected to have to tamper with it. Maybe it was Tyr’s way of reassuring Dylan – Look, ma, no secrets. Or maybe it was Tyr’s way of messing with the Captain’s head --- nothing here, you, big moron, I hid it somewhere else. Nyah, nyah, nyah, nyah.

Harper pauses, looking around. “Hey, um…Tyr? You in here?” He has never been in Tyr’s quarters. It is definitely terra incognita. He grins, flashing his dimples. There is an illicit thrill in this secret invasion. The sort of thrill that usually got him in big, big trouble. That public lewdness charge for example.

“Ya know what. That whole thing was so not my fault. I can’t help it if some folks have no sense of humor.” Not that he had done anything bad exactly, Harper thinks. Some people just had lessn con cosmopolitan standards of conduct. That was all.

The room is clean. Not a trace of the clutter that litters Harper’s own quarters. Okay, maybe he is the tiniest bit messy but he had a system. He knows exactly where everything is. Besides he can’t help it if he is so brilliant that he can juggle a dozen projects at the same time. Others could only drof sof such unparallel virtuosity. He shakes his head disbelievingly. “Tyr, I think you’ve taken that whole ‘cleanliness is next to godliness’ thing a bit far.”

A long mocha colored sofa is pressed back against the wall. An abstract painting hangs over it. Harper squints at it the soft swirls of bronze, copper and green makes him think of autumn, cool, crisp breezes and leaves falling. What did Tyr see when he looked at the painting? “Why doesn’t my place look like this? This place has ‘chick magnet’ written all over it.”

He moves by the sofa and sees a low, oval table sitting next to it. A bronze tray holds a trio of green candles. The shades precisely match the greens in the painting. A small box of music discs is next to the tray. Harper picks up a disc and wrinkles his nose as he stares at it. Wagner. Please. Someone needed to introduce the big guy to real music. He returns the disc to its slot.

Harper moves on to the inner room. There is a small table in the corner. A creepy looking vine is curling out of the pot. He edges cautiously around it. Only the Divine knows what any plant growing in Tyr’s quarters is likely to do. Harper snorts. The thing probably has poisonous thorns or acidic sap or something.

He sighs with longing as he stares at the bed. Tyr’s bed. It’s so big. It dominates the room, stretching vast, empty and seductive. What it be like to lie on that bed and have Tyr do all sorts of wicked things to you? Press you down into that soft mattress. Make you scream his name and beg for more. And more. And more. And more.

The bed beckons to him. The cover is a soft blue-gray. It must be like lying on the ocean. He can almost hear the sound of surf and shore birds. The bed is neatly made up. Sheets are folded at crisp angles. Everything smooth and tight. Not a wrinkle to be seen. Harper touches a plump pillow. He places his box ofs ons on a bedside table. It won’t hurt anything to just lie on the bed for a second…just to see what it’s like. He places his tool belt on the floor and sits on the bed. It yields softly beneath his weigh.

“You’re asking for trouble, Harper. Don’t fall asleep…do not fall asleep. Oh yeah…oh yeah.” Harper lies down and closes his eyes. The pillows smell faintly of Tyr. He smiles imagining that long, black hair spread out across the pillows. Across him. The bed is so soft. He sinks into it feeling like he is lying on a cloud. Ummmm. Nice. He would have never guessed that Tyr liked a soft bed instead of a rock hard slab. This…was…nice. “Man, I could get used to this.”


Tyr glides softly into his quarters. A swift glance reveals nothing amiss. Is he wrong to be suspicious about Dylan’s sudden desire to lecture him about the faded glories of the Commonwealth?

A faint scent lingers on the air. He sniffs. Harper. That scent he would know anywhere. It is unlikely that Harper would come to his quarters without a direct invitation. Or specific orders. Now, Dylan’s sudden determination to have his company makes sense. What has Dylan ordered Harper to do here? And how can he turn this situation to his advantage?

Tyr walks into the other room. Harper is sprawled face down his bed, snuggling against a pillow. Harper looks good against the blue-gray. The shade is most pleasing with his pale skin and blond hair. Tyr tilts his head as his gaze lingers on the engineer. Now that he is seeing Harper in the bed, he realizes that the sheets are the precise shade of Harper’s eyes. He had not been aware of it when he selected the bedding. Only that the color pleased him.

He sees the strange box and walks silently over. “What have you been up to, little man?” Tyr whispers. He opens it. An array of tiny discs lie inside. Bugs most likely. He has never seen any so tiny and thin. Harper has such clever hands. He cannot help but wonder if that cleverness translates into other areas. At the moment, the idea of Harper’s hands on him is much more interesting than considering what he wants to allow Dylan to record. He replaces the box on the table.

Tyr removes his boots and quietly sets them beneath the table. He unfastens his brown leather vest and sets it aside. His gauntlets drop on top of the vest. He stands silently by his bed, watching the human. In his own Pride, this would be considered a definite invitation to play.

He has wanted Harper for a long time. Ever since he first saw the engineer nervously edging along the Command Deck. He had been careful to show no interest beyond that warranted by the situation. It was never good to betray one’s true desires to strangers. He doubted that it had ever occurred to any of the others that those desires were one of the reasons he had chosen to remain. True, he would have decided to stay anyway since being on the Andromeda fit in so perfectly with his own agenda but there was no denying that Harper’s presence was a definite enticement.

Tyr can feel his bone blades stir as he watches the sleeping human. Harper is small but well proportioned. The combined shades of blond hair, blue-gray eyes and pale skin all make the human look as if he will be pleasingly cool to the touch. The manic energy is intriguing, leading to thoughts of how frantically Harper might react to appropriate simulation. A vision of the human writhing desperately beneath him, clutching wildly at him, urging him on forms in his mind. He can almost feel those hands on him.

Tyr resists the temptation to slide his leather pants down. His stomach muscles are already tight with longing. His control is shaky around Harper. It is much too early in the game to allow the Little Professor to know about such an advantage. Besides the ship will watch everything. Even with privacy mode engaged. And whatever the ship, knows Dylan can know as well.

He inhales deeply. Harper has a wonderful personal scent. It never failed to ravish his senses. Tyr shakes his hair back, feeling the soft caress of the mass of braids against his bare back. It was amazing how many items he had “accidentally” broken or dropped in order to be able to demand Harper’s attention. Yet the human had never seemed to suspect anything or see a pattern.

He has been considering ways to approach Harper and now, here the man is. Conveniently located in his bed and on a secret mission for Dylan. Speaking of Dylan…why had he not warned Harper that Tyr was returning to his quarters?

Had the Captain noticed how many items that he brought to Harper for repair and draw conclusions? No. Dylan never seemed to notice things of that nature. Tyr shakes his head, remembering the time that Dylan caught him sparring with Beka and thought it something more.

Dylan is observing the proceedings at this moment to try to entrap him, to find some leverage. He is certain of it. Tyr grins wickedly. He can still indulge himself with Harper and still not give Dymotanything useful. Perhaps he can appall Captain Vanilla so much that Dylan will cease watching. There are things about Nietzschean needs and culture that outsiders were rarely exposed to. No time like the present to further the Captain’s knowledge of Nietzschean ways.

“What excuses will you try, Harper?” Tyr murmurs as he approaches the bed. The excuses that Harper can offer for being in his bed are limited. Very limited. How far will Harper be willing to go to lend verisimilitude to his story?

Tyr eases onto the bed, pressing up against Harper’s back. He curls around the sleeping man. What will Harper do when he wakes and discovers his situation? Tyr leans over the sleeping engineer, inhaling the human’s scent. The effect is almost dizzying in the way it increases his desire. Tyr softly kisses his wp thp the line of the human’s throat.

Harper stirs, his breathing quickens. “Ohhh. Tyr.”

Tyr’s mouth quirks in a pleased, predatory smile. So the Little Professor dreams of him. He likes hearing Harper breathe his name with such helpless longing. He delicately bites an earlobe and feels the human go suddenly still and tense beneath him. He nuzzles the human’s throat, feeling the rapid, frightened beat of Harper’s pulse against his lips. He kisses the sensitive skin next to the dataport and whispers in his most seductive tones, “Why Harper, I didn’t know that you cared.”

“What are you doing?” Harper demands, trying to squirm away.

Ummmm. The twisting motions of the human beneath him are most stimulating. Harper fights well enough but being face down limits his range of motion too much for him to have any hope of going anywhere that Tyr does not allow. The thought is as arousing as the strong, lithe body wiggling against him. As Harper shifts his legs apart, trying to get leverage, Tyr slides firmly between them. The brush of Harper’s strong thighs against his own only makes him harder.

Tyr nuzzles the vulnerable length of the pale throat, shifting his weight to hold down the smaller man. Tyr growls deep in his throat. He presses even closer, pushing Harper deeper into the soft mattress.

Harper goes still, saving his energy for a better chance. Good move. No need to waste energy in a useless struggle, Tyr thinks approvingly. Fear and arousal mingle equally in Harper’s scent. Time to allow the Little Professor some space. It will not do for Harper to fear too much. Tyr eases away, giving Harper a small measure of freedom. He laughs softly. “What am I doing? I’m lying in my bed.”

Tyr traces the stiff line of Harper’s shoulder. His eyes gleam with amusement and de. “W. “What are you doing in my bed, Harper?”

This should prove interesting, Tyr thinks as he licks the skin around the dataport. Harper gasps and arches his throat. Ah, the human liked that. Tyr sucks on the sensitive skin. Oh, yes, the aroused scent is definite increasing. What will Harper say? What will he do to placate Tyr? What will Harper offer?
per per twists around to face Tyr. The blue eyes are dark and smoldering. His smile flickers weakly. “Oh crap. Well, uh…I…uh, I was looking for…uh”

“Yes?” Tyr encourages throatily. He had not played such games in a long time. He had forgotten how much pleasure was to be had in them.

“I was looking for that plasma relay conduit that was malfunctioning. I thought it was in your quarters and came inside to check it out.” Harper speaks quickly, the wordsblinbling out anxiously.

Tyr stares down at his captive, pretending to consider the proffered excuses. “Did you find it?”

“Yes.” Harper nods firmly. “And everything is fine…tiptop shape.”

Tyr presses his forehead against the humans, staring into the vivid blue eyes. The blue depths seem so innocence and guileless. Ernest even. “You didn’t answer my question.”

“Question?” Harper blinks at him in pretend confusion.

Tyr rubs his cheek against the soft blond hair and lowers hisd tod to nuzzle Harper’s throat. He had not thought that any scent could be more enticing than Harper’s personal scent but he is wrong. The darker scent of desire is mingling with Harper’s own luscious smell. Tyr feels almost dazed by the rich mingling of scents. He cannot hold back a moan or stop himself from sucking the skin around the dataport, tasting this new scent. His hips press eagerly against the human.

“Is that a gauss pistol, Tyr, or are you just happy to see me.” The breathless quality of Harper’s voice robs his tone of the intended sarcasm. “Oh crap!”

“I’m…very…happy to see you, Harper.” Tyr’s voice drops to a growl. One hand slides under the hem of Harper’s bright red tee shirt to explore the sensitive skin. He can feel the stomach muscles clench under his fingers. “Let me show you how very happy I am.”

“Tyr it’s not what you think.” Harper grips Tyr’s wide shoulders and shoves.

Tyr doesn’t m In Instead he settles his weight to press Harper more deeply into the soft embrace of the mattress. “What do I think, Harper?”

“You think I’m here to get a little horizontal mambo going.” Harper shakes his head. He pushes a little harder against Tyr’s shoulders. “Nothing could be further from the truth.”

Tyr shoves the shirt up higher, baring more to his possessive gaze. He rubs his cheek and beard over Harper’s nipples. “I smell your arousal.”

Harper squirms under theesseesses. “Well…yeah…there is that…but I was having a dream.”

“Who were you dreaming about?” Tyr leans up to brush a fleeting kiss over Harper’s lips.

Harper looks away. “I don’t remember.”

“Well, if you don’t remember why you were waiting for me in my bed. Perhaps you can tell me what these little items are in this box.” Tyr reaches over and picks up the box.

Harper’s eyes go wide as he looks nervously from the box to Tyr. “I uh…what I mean is. They’re bugs.”


Harper licks his lips and then rushes into speech. “I made them and I was wondering if you would be interested in using them in your security work…for when we have those missions on planets and drifts where Andromeda’s sensors can’t reach.”

“Good answer, Harper.” Tyr smiles. He leans over, settling more firmly over the Little Professor, as he sets the box back on the table. “So this box is a gift…for me?”


Tyr kisses the edge of Harpemoutmouth, pulling away as the human turns toward him. “What other…gifts…did you bring to me?”

“I was wondering…” Harper raises his hand and tentatively strokes back the soft fall of dreadlocks.

“What?” Tyr leans into the touch. He presses a kiss into Harper’s palm. “What were you wondering?”

“I was…uh…would you let me sleep in here?” Harper asks shyly. His eyes lower but not quickly enough to hide the knowing gleam in the clear blue. “Your bed’s so big and soft.”

“You want to sleep with me?” Tyr pretends to consider as his hand strokes over the human’s stomach. “Why have you not mentioned this desire before?”

“I…I...I thought you’d…reject me.” The blue gaze flickers hungrily over Tyr’s face before lowering again in assumed bashfulness.

“But you don’t think that now, why?” Tyr’s full lips quirk in a smile as his hand settles over the bulge pressing against the front of Harper’s cargo pants. The shape pressing eagerly against his palm is satisfyingly thick and full. He squeezes it gently, spreading his hand over it. His palm rubs lightly over the wide head.

“Oh…Oh my gahh…” Harper gasps as he writhes.

Tyr swoops down and takes Harper’s mouth in aggressive demand as he continues alternately stroking and squeezing his prize. His mouth opens wider in welcome and encouragement as Harper’s tongue moves in, exploring. Harpers inarticulate, pleading noises are most pleasing to his ears. When Tyr finally leans back to admire his work, Harper’s eyes are closed. Harper’s face is flushed. Harper’s lips are swollen. Harper’s hands clutch at him.

“You were saying…” Tyr rubs his palm slowly over Harper’s shaft.

“Tyr I’m not…I haven’t…” Harper stutters. His eyes snap open, need revealed nakedly. His hips arch up.

“You’re not saying anything to help your case, Harper.” Tyr slides his hand up Harper’s stomach to trace the tight peach beads of Harper’s nipples.

“I can’t tell you why I’m here, Tyr.”

“Ship, engage privacy mode.” Tyr snaps. Such as it is. All this means is that Andromeda has stopped recording. He has no doubt that she and Dylan are still watching. Well, one can only hope that it will be a bemusement and education for both.

“Privacy mode engaged. Authorization Fire Control Officer Tyr Anasazi.” Andromeda intones.

“What are you gonna do to me, Tyr?” Harper asks breathlessly as his hands stroke down Tyr’s hard biceps.

“Exactly what you hoped I’d do when you crawled into my bed and waited for me to find you.” Tyr promises huskily.

“I wasn’t waiting for you”

“You weren’t?” Tyr lays a trail of kisses along Harper’s collarbone. “Why else would you be asleep in my bed?”

“I….I…I came because Dylan…” Harper bites his lower lip and looks away. There is a flicker of guilt in his eyes.

“Quiet, little man.” Tyr strokes his thumb over Harper’s lips. “I know why you’re here. Now, I have an important question for you.”

“I’m sorry, Tyr.” Embarrassment, shame, longing flicker over Harper’s face.

“You’ll have time to make it up to me later.” Tyr drops a quick kiss on Harper’s lips. His eyes darken as he considers all the ways that Harper can make it up to him.

“You’re not going to kill me?” Harper squeaked.

Tyr laughs. He draws a finger along the curve of Harper’s cheekbone. “No, Harper. But I need to know something before we continue. You must answer truthfully.”

“Okay.” The blue eyes are serious and wary now.

Tyr leans close and whispers, “Did Dylan send you here to bug my quarters?”

Harper squirms, trapped between Tyr and the mattress. “Tyr. Dylan will kill me.”

“Dylan is not in this room. I am. If you don’t answer truthfully I will kill you. Now answer the question.” Tyr growls, low and menacing. Harper must give allegiance to him or this can go no further.

“What question was that?” Fepikepikes sharply in Harper’s scent as he plays for time.

“Did Dylan send you?”

“Yes.” Harper squeezes his eyes shut, turning his head away. Disappointment flickers across his pale face. “Can I go now?”

“No…not just yet. I have one more question.” Tyr cups Harper’s face, turning the human back to him. He brushes gentle, encouraging kisses across Harper’s lips.

“No, I didn’t get a chance to put them anywhere.”

“That wasn’t my question.” Tyr nips Harper’s lower lip as punishment. “My question is…do you desire me, Harper?”

The blue of Harper’s eyes deepens into a soft, hot and dreamy shade. “Yeah…oh yeah.”

“Do you want to mlovelove with me…in my big bed…tonight?” Tyr slowly rubs the heavy muscle of his thigh over the swollen bulge filling Harper’s cargo pants.

Harper moans, “Tyr…”

“Just answer the question, Harper.”

Harper meets Tyr’s gaze openly. “Yes.”

“Honesty at last.” Tyr whispers. “Will you do whatev ask ask, Harper?”

“What do you mean?” Harper strokefingfinger over Tyr’s full lips.

Tyr nibbles delicately on the fingertip. “Exactly what I asked.”

“Well…within reason, I guess.”

“Interesting turn of phrase, ‘within reason’…hmmm.” Tyr smile is slow and full of wicked promise. “Who will determine what is reasonable?”

Harper’s eyes grow large and wary. “I don’t…”

“This is my room. This is my bed.” Tyr feels himself growing harder as he watches the battle between temptation, desire and warinessthe the clear blue of Harper’s eyes. Will Harper yield to him? He will accept no less. “It wostanstand to reason that I will make the rules about what is or is not reasonable, do you agree?”

“Tyr. I…” Harper licks his lips.

“Yes or no, Harper…simply answer the question.”

Harper takes a deep breath and jumps in. “Yes.”

“Good.” Tyr kisses the human fiercely and thoroughly as a reward. When he raises his head, Harper is wearing a dazed l Ty Tyr waits a moment for the blue eyes to clear before he leans close and murmurs, “I have three tasks for you, Harper. First, you will blind the ship’s ability to detect the bugs that you have given me. Second, you will plant the bugs in Dylan’s quarters. Third, you will make me something that I can wear that will alert me to the presence of such bugs.”

“You don’t want much, do you?” There is an amused curve to Harper’s mouth.

Tyr kisses him very softly. “The rewards will be worthy of the tasks.” He nips Harper’s lower lip sharply then soothes the sting with a stroke of his tongue. “So will the punishment.”

Harper’s lips part and his eyes darken. “Punishment?”

Tyr holds the human’s gaze. His fingers trace a tantalizing pattern just over Harper’s waistband. “Take your pants off.”

Tyr rolls aside, lounging back against the pillows as Harper sits up and removes his shoes. Tyr watches with half-closed eyes as Hr rer removes the cargo pants and tosses them on the bed. “Take your boxers off.”

Harper sets his hands on the dark blue fabric and slowly removes it. He tosses his underwear on top of his pants. Tyr growls in pleasure and rises to his hands and knees. He crawls with feral grace toward Harper. He nuzzles Harper’s rosily swollen cock aivesives it a quick lick from base to tip. Harper moans and sways toward him.

Tyr snatches up Harper’s underwear and rises uulliulling the other man close to him. He murmurs softly in Harper’s ear. “Your punishment, Harper, for trying to plant bugs on me. You cannot wear boxers or another form of underwear until you finish your tasks to my satisfaction. If you do, you will be punished. Do you understand, Harper? ”

“Yes,” Harper breathes. His eyes are hot with longing.

Tyr falls back onto his bed. He tucks the boxers under his pillow. He will not get much sleep tonight with his bed smelling so strongly of Harper but it will be a pleasant torment. “Good. Put on your pants and go.”


Harper bounces into the mess. A small, white tray of flaky pastries is sitting on the counter. Swirls of chocolate and white chocolate icing loop over the golden surfaces. Harper leans close and sniffs. Wonderful. Rich and full of sugar. Just what he craves to start off the day. Beka sat at the counter with a pastry on her plate and a steaming cup of coffee beside her.

“Beka, I didn’t know you could cook like this.” Harper drops two pastries on his plate and grabs an icy Sparky cola. “Why have you been hiding such talent?”

Beka snorts. “I can barely boil water, Harper. Tyr apparently woke up early and in a baking sort of mood.”

Harper stares down at his plate, a smile spreading across his face. “I didn’t know Tyr could bake. I mean, he’s always cooking those perfectly balanced nutritious sort of meals. Not that they aren’t great but I’ve never seen him make anything like this.”

Harper sits next to Beka and bites into one of the pastries. Bliss. Almost enough to make him regret the pale blue boxers hugging his hips. Almost. He licks chocolate from his lips. Can’t give it up too easy or Tyr won’t respect him. Besides, he can’t wait to see what Tyr will do. “Oh, man, this is good.”

Dylan walks into the room. “Beka, Harper, good morning.”

“Good morning, Dylan.” Beka smiles at him over her coffee cup.

Harper waves a pastry half in greeting as he chews enthusiastically. He swallows. “You ought to try one of these, Boss. Delicious.”

Dylan glances at the pastries and wrinkles his nose. “You two enjoy them. They look a bit sweet for my tastes.”

Dylan fixes a plain omelet and some toast. He pours himself a cup of coffee and sits next to Beka. “You seem hungry, this morning, Mr. Harper.”

“Hmmm. Gotta keep my strength up. Andromeda’s a big ship for one engineer to handle.” Harper polishes off the rest of his first pastry and starts on the second.

“Did you get that project taken care of, last night, Harper?” Dylan asks coolly. There was a faint look of disdain around the edges of his pale blue eyes.

Harper’s eyes narrow. He stuffs a bit of pastry in his mouth as an excuse to delay his response. What was Dylan looking at him like that for? Yesterday, the boss had been full of charm and cheer. Slapping his shoulder and all that sort of stuff. Now Dylan is peering at him around Beka like he expected Harper to jump him or something…Oh, crap! Had Dylan been watching last night?

But that didn’t make any sense. Dylan had a huge crew back in his glory days. Surely some of them liked different things and made non-standard choices. Dylan never seemed to care what Beka got up to on shore leave or what Harper did either. So why is the Captain looking like his shoes are three sizes too small this morning?

Harper swallows. “Some of it, Boss.”

Dylan smiles amiably but his pale eyes are watchful. “Good. Glad to hear that. When will the rest of it be done?”

“Soon, Boss. Soon.” Harper grabs another pastry. “Off to work, right now.”


There. Tyr spots Harper standing next to the wall, peering into the circuits of a computer panel. Harper is wearing a tight, white tee shirt. Pale blue boxers peek defiantly over the top of his pants. Did Harper know how sexy he was in blue or did the human just like the color?

Tyr stalks silently up behind the engineer. “Harper.”

Harper jumps and tosses a glower over his shoulder, “Do you have to do that?”

“Yes.” Tyr presses the human up against the wall. Harper wiggles delightfully against h

“Hey! What do you think you are doing?”

Tyr slides his hand down Harper’s back. He pauses for a tantalizing moment then cups his hand possessively over the firm curves of Harper’s ass. “Harper, you disobeyed my orders.”

“I don’t know what you mean.” Harper twists to look over his shoulder at Tyr. The blue eyes are smoldering with desire and defiance.

“I think you do.” Tyr eases his hand beneath the waistband of Harper’s pants. Nothing but a thin layer of cotton between him and the cool curves that he covets. Tyr keeps his voice and face stern. “Harper, Harper. I ordered you not to wear boxers until your task was done. Is your task done, Harper?”

“Not all of it. Besides it’s none of you business what I do or don’t wear.” Harper lifts his chin.

Tyr steps back, releasing the engineer. “Oh, but it is my business, Harper. You made it my business when you showed up in my bed.”

Harper turns to face him and leans back against the wall. The vivid blue eyes are bright with anticipation.

“Now give them to me!” Tyr demands, a shiver of pleasure running down his spine. The scent of Harper’s desire is heavy in the air.

Harper’s eyes widen. “What?”

“Now!” Tyr growls.

Harper looks up and down the corridor. “But…what if Dylan or Beka or someone walks by?”

Tyr smiles coldly. “What if they do, Little Man? I’m waiting, Harper.”

Harper licks his lips as he stares at Tyr. He removes his shoes. His zipper sounds loud in the silent corridor. He drops his pants and steps out of them. His hands go to the waistband of his boxers. His head rises. The rebellious glint in his eyes deepens.

“Harper,” Tyr warns in a tone of soft menace. The word trails off into a rough growl He watches eagerly as Harper pushes the boxers down and kicks them to one side. The human’s cock rises, full and thick under his stare. Tyr steps close and cups his hand, filling his palm with the soft weight of the sac. Harper shivers, his eyes closing. Tyr abruptly steps back and slaps Harper sharply on his pale flank.

“Hey!” Harper’s eyes snap open. He rubs the side of his ass and scowls.

Tyr picks up the boxers. He folds them into a neat, small rectangle.

“Those are mine.”

Tyr shakes his long hair back. Holding Harper’s eyes, he rubs the soft cloth over his chest. His nipples quickly come to tight beads under the touch. Tyr slowly slides the rectangle of fabric down his stomach and tucks it under his black leather pants, smoothing the fabric over his groin. “If you want it back, Harper. You know where to find it.”

Harper stares, breathing quickly. His cock rises higher, quivering.

“You can put your pants back on, now.” Tyr watches as Harper gingerly pulls on the cargo pants and zips them back up. Tyr pulls the smaller man close and murmurs,” Part of it, I believe you said. Which task did you finish, Harper?”

“The first one.”

“Ah, not a difficult feat for a man like you but deserving of a reward. You may chose, Harper. You may kiss me or you may touch me…anywhere for three minutes. Which will it be, Harper?”

Harper swallows heavily. “Touch.”

Tyr moves into the center of the corridor. He hides a smile. He can hear Dylan’s footsteps in the distance, heading this way. He gets to enjoy Harper’s strong hands on him and to startle Dylan. What more could a Nietzschean desire for a little amusement? “Begin.”

Harper’s hands frame his face; the palms are pleasantly cool. Tyr parts his lips under the stroke of Harper’s thumb, gliding across his mouth. He nips softly at the thumb, watching closely as the blue eyes glow bright with desire. What will the human chose to touch next? Ah, Tyr smiles as Harper seizes the long, dreadlocks, sweeping the mass of hair forward over Tyr’s shoulder. Clever Harper. Clever hands. He has always loved to have his hair stroked. Harper gathers the long braids in both hands and buries his face in them, breathing deeply. Slowly Harper releases the braids, allowing them to slide through his fingers.

Tyr stands still as Harper’s hands spread over his chest. It is becoming increasingly difficult not to react obviously to the cool touch and dizzying scent. Harper’s fingers dance briefly over his nipples, pinching them into tight beads, as Harper nuzzles his chest. Tyr draws in a sharp breath as his muscle clench tight as the human drops down, nuzzling his stomach.

Tyr bites his lower lip, his head going back. He can hear Dylan walking closer. Harper kneels in front of him. The human’s hands glide around to knead his ass as Harper nuzzles the growing bulge at his groin. Tyr shudders. The only thing saving him from losing control is the layer of leather and the added layer of Harper’s boxers. Tyr drops a hand to Harper’s head, stroking the spiky blond hair, urging the human on for a breathless moment.

Tyr pulls Harper up and drops a kiss on his forehead. He takes a step back. “Time’s up, Harper.”

“Tyr. Harper.” Dylan rounds the corner and comes to a sudden halt.

“Boss.” Harper leans back against the wall. He gives Tyr a challenging look. “Well, if you don’t need anything else, Tyr. I’ve got work to do.”

Tyr shoves his dreadlocks back. “No, Harper. I have everything that I need…for now.”

“Were you going anywhere in particular, Tyr?” Dylan asks.

“Just to my quarters.”

“I’ll walk with you. We need to discuss something.”

“As you wish, Captain.” Tyr puts extra swagger in his step as he walks off. He can feel Harper’s hungry eyes on his back. Harper is coming along very nicely. Perhaps it is time for something more. To push a little further.

The thin bulk of Harper’s boxers make his tight pants uncomfortable but in a good way. He is hyperaware of the cotton, still warm from Harper’s body; of his own hard cock nesting against the fabric that had rested over Harper’s a few minutes ago.

“Come in, Captain.” Tyr walks through the door into his quarters. He walks over to the sofa and sits down, trying to ignore the ache in his groin. A folded rectangle of pale blue cloth is neatly draped over the back of the sofa. Tyr glances at it and smiles. He is looking forward to the day when Harper comes to visit and discovers the boxers on triumphant display. He has no doubt that he will be collecting more of them in the future.

Dylan looks around and his gaze focuses on the abstract hanging over Tyr’s head. “Nice painting.”

“I thought so.” Tyr shifts his position slightly, trying to get comfortable. The persistent ache in his groin is setting his temper on edge. His lips quirk in amusement at Dylan’s gaze slides over his shoulder and stops, puzzled, on the strip of blue cotton. Didn’t realize what he was seeing, hmmm? Perhaps he should drop the Captain a hint.

Tyr reaches back and gathers up the pale blue rectangles. He spreads it over his lap and strokes his hand idly over the fabric. Dylan is looking curiously at the fabric rectangle now. Taunting Captain Vanilla is going to provide a certain amusement while he waits for the right time to return to Harper. “Did you…want something, Captain?”

Dylan frowns at him. “I’m concerned about Harper.”

“Oh? Why?” And that deep concern would be why you send the boy to my quarters, Captain Vanilla and never warned him in time to get out? Dylan did not deserve Harper or the engineer’s loyalty. Captain Vanilla was twice a fool for not cementing that loyalty while he had the chance instead of taking it for granted.

Now, he would have Harper’s allegiance. He can and will bind Harper to him in ways that Dylan will never understand or be able to break. He knows Harper’s value. Tyr’s jaw tightens. In his own Pride, one like Harper would have been treasured and protected not wasted on dangerous, useless missions. Is Harper anything but a gambit to Dylan?

“Yes. Have you noticed anything odd about Harper lately?” The chilly eyes study him closely.

“Why, no, Captain,” Tyr keeps his tone smoothly demure but his eyes are mocking. “I see no odd behavior. What sort of behavior did you have in mind? Perhaps if you gave me an example… ”

Dylan opens and closes his mouth, plainly biting back the words that he wants to say.

That’s right, Tyr thinks with amusement. You have not seen anything that you can admit to without admitting to watching me. He fixes an inquiring expression on his face. “Captain?”

“I do not want him pressured into anything inappropriate.” Dylan lifts his chin in a stern look. Color is rising in his cheeks as he stares over Tyr’s shoulder.

“Inappropriate?” Tyr looks blandly back. “I don’t understand.”

Dylan clears his throat. “Yes, inappropriate. He’s just a boy and I’m concerned for him just as I am for all my crew.”

Tyr raises the rectangle of pale blue to his face and rubs his cheek against it as he watches Dylan. “Nothing…inappropriate has happened to Harper to my knowledge but I will be happy to watch for any…inappropriate activities on his part.”

Tyr glides silently into Harper’s quarters. It will not be long before it is time for Harper to rise and go to work. Tyr carefully eases around all the litter on the floor. Not a bad early warning system. If a careless person or one who does not know Harper’s habits came crashing in Harper would have ample advance notice.

Harper is spread out on dark sheets. His pale skin is almost luminous against the intensely dark color. The sheets are shoved down to the foot of the bed. Tyr grins. It is just as he suspected, Harper is sleeping in pale colored boxers.

Tyr snaps on the lighting over the bed. Now he can see that the dark sheets are navy blue and the boxers are pale blue with little gray sheep gamboling across them. They should make an interesting addition to his collection.

Harper blinks and sits up. “What the---“

“No boxers, Harper,” Tyr says sternly from his dark corner. “It’s such a simple rule. Why are you having so much trouble with it?”

Harper groans. “A surprise boxer inspection? I’ve heard it all now.”

“Take them off, Harper.”

Harper runs his hands through his hair. “Aggh. I always sleep in boxers. What is your problem?”

“No boxers, Harper. None. No exceptions.”

A faint smile curves Harper’s mouth before it settles into exaggeratedly pouty lines. “I suppose you want this pair too.”

“How could I resist, Harper? The little sheep are so charming. Not exactly what I would have expected of you but charming all the same.”

Harper rolls his eyes. “It was a gift, okay?”

All amusement vanishes from Tyr’s voice. “A gift! From whom? Who buys such things for you?”

“It was a joke gift, Tyr. Nothing meant by it. It wasn’t personal.” Harper wiggles back against his bed. “Trance gave them to me.”

Tyr tosses his hair back. Trance. He supposes that is okay but he does not like the general idea of such gifts being presented to Harper. “If you need such in the future, I will buy them.”

Harper throws a speculative look at the shadowy figure. “That might be interesting. Only fair, too, since you keep taking them away from me.”

“Off,” Tyr orders.

“Oh, alright. Sheeesh.” Harper shimmies out his boxers and tosses them at the shadowy corner. “There. Are we done now? I want to go to sleep.”

“That’s too bad, Harper. You don’t get to go back to sleep.”

“Oh, yeah?” Harper leans back, against the pillows, deliberately flaunting himself. “What do I get?”

“Punished.” Tyr lowers his voice to its deepest tones. He smiles as Harper shivers in reaction.

Harper shrugs with apparent indifference. “So, what are you gonna to do this time?”

“I’m not going to do anything, Harper. You are.”

“Me?” Harper blinks. There is a gleam of quickly hidden interest in the blue eyes.

“You. Touch yourself, Harper. Show me what you like.” Tyr licks his lips as he stares at the human. He longs to touch Harper, to measure that thick length against his palm, but this will be almost as good. He wonders vaguely if it has occurred to Captain Vanilla to watch Harper’s quarters too? How inappropriately did this behavior rate on the Captain’s scales?

Harper reaches over to his bedside table and picks up a small bottle. He pours something onto his palm and rubs his hands together. A pleasant fragrance that hints of oceans and beaches fills the room. Harper slowly glides his hands over his thickening cock. His fingers move slowly and lightly outlining the veins, ghosting over the thick length. His legs spread as one hand slides below to cup and stroke the heavy sac, leaving it gleaming enticingly in the light. Harper gasps his muscles tensing as he draws circles over the wide head. His breathing quickens as he begins to pump up and down. His other hand moves lower, sliding beneath the sac. His finger slides in, disappearing into his body. Harper moans as his body arches. Harper flings his head back, thrashing on the navy sheet.

Now, when there is no way that the human can stop. It is the moment that Tyr has been waiting for. “Stop now!”

Harper cries out as pale fluid spills like opals over his stroking fingers. He collapses limp and panting on the bed.

Well, he judged that moment just right, Tyr thinks with a grin. He makes his voice deep and stern. “I ordered you to stop, Harper.”

“I couldn’t.” Harper rolls over on to his side, looking toward Tyr’s corner. A sheen of sweat and oil glows on his pale skin. He looks like an alabaster statute. His eyes are dark and mysterious in the dim light. He smiles slowly, tauntingly. “Besides I didn’t want to stop.”

“I didn’t ask what you wanted.” Tyr steps out of the shadows into the light. “I gave you an order. I expect to be obeyed.”

Harper shrugs. “Yeah, well…I expected to win a million credits at the casino the last time I was there. That didn’t happen either.”

Tyr walks over to stand at the bottom edge of the bed. “Come here, Harper.”

Harper stretches slowly and languidly. He looks at Tyr under his lashes for a long moment. “No.”

Tyr lunges across the bed, neatly pinning Harper. His lips hover just over the human’s mouth. “No, Harper? Did I hear you say “no” to me?”

“Getting hard of hearing in your old age? Yeah, I. Said. No.” Harper’s eyes are bold and full of wicked glee.

Tyr’s eyes narrow and his voice drops. “This old man is not the one pinned against the bed, human. You will be punished for this defiance.”
“I can take anything that you’ve got. Old man.”

Tyr abruptly rolls the human over, pinning him, face down on the bed.

“Hey! What do you think, you are doing?” Harper wiggles but his range of moment is limited.

“Worried, Harper?” Tyr kisses the human’s shoulder. “I thought you could take anything that I had to give.”

“About you?” Harper snorts. “You wish. Fine, show me what you’ve got.”

“All you have to do to stop me, Harper, is say that you are sorry for defying me.” Tyr turns his attention to the muscular curve of Harper’s ass.

“Ha. Like that’s gonna happen.”

Tyr’s hand glides possessively over the pale curves. Stroking. Kneading. Cupping. Learning the exact contours. His fingers slip into the shadows of the cleft and stroke lower. He can hear Harper’s breathing deepen as his fingers inch slowly lower and lower. He finds his target and glides up and down, round and round, his touch as light as a ghost until Harper is squirming against the bed, trying to push up into his touch.

“Oh, yeah. You sure know how to make a guy sorry all right. Not!” Harper taunts breathlessly.

Now. Tyr slaps the pale curves hard, making Harper jump.

“Stop that, Uber!”

Tyr smiles as the pale skin blushes a delicate pink. Nice. He sets up a rhythm of hard and light slaps, pausing occasionally between slaps to stroke, kiss and bite the increasingly sensitive skin. Harper is moaning in earnest now, his ass glowing a lovely rosy pink. Tyr begins slapping hard. One after another. The rosy pink is turning into a burning, vivid red.

Harper cries out and shudders. “I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry.”

Tyr stretches out beside the human. “How sorry are you Harper? Show me.”

Harper sits up and winces as his bottom comes in contact with the mattress. Tyr pillows his head on his arms and stares up at the ceiling with a bored expression as he waits. He watches under his lashes as Harper unfastens the ties on his leather pants and eases them off. Harper’s strong hands glide over the heavy muscles of his thigh, urging them further apart as the human settles between. Tyr shudders as the cool hands settle firmly over him. He cannot last long. He has been on the edge of his control since he began playing this game with Harper. It is all he can to keep from pressing up as the damp bliss of Harper’s mouth moves provocatively over him. Tyr fists his hands in the sheets. He bites his lips at the sly velvet caress of tongue and the delicate nibble of sharp teeth. The eager, greedy rhythm is more than he can resist. Tyr growls savagely and yields to Harper’s skill and enthusiasm.

Harper crawls up to kneel gingerly beside him. The bright bold eyes linger over his body. “There, now. Was I sorry enough or shall I be really, really abject in the depth of my sorrow?”


Tyr drifts through the corridors. He has checked all the workshops and not found Harper but he has found taunting evidence of Harper’s presence. The faint, fading scent. A half finished pastry. An empty Sparky Cola. roppropped tool.

He listens intently. Harper has gone to ground in the access tunnels. Not a bad choice of anyone who could remain still and silent but Harper cannot maintain either condition for long.

A distant scuffing noise catches his attention and Tyr slides into the nearest tunnel. He crawls silently along, pausing often to listen. He stops to wait at a section where the tunnels branch off into different directions. The loud clatter of a falling tool tells him which way to go. Soon he can hear a muffled voice. Harper talking to himself.

Tyr follows the trail of sound. As he gets closer, he can smell Harper’s luscious personal scent. Ahead, he can see his quarry crouching on the floor, peering at an array of exposed circuitry. It would be hard to miss the brilliant crimson and gold shirt flapping over the dazzling white tee shirt.

Tyr surges forward, trapping the human between his body and the floor. “Harper, did you think you could hide from me?”

Harper wiggles with enthusiasm, rubbing against Tyr. “Get off me!”

“Make me.” Tyr drops a kiss on the nape, just above the links of his mark. He runs a hand over the firm curves of Harper’s backside. “Why, Harper, you obeyed. That’s good.”

“Stop that right now, Uber.”

Tyr leans down and bites Harper’s earlobe. He is mildly disappointed that Harper obeyed. He was looking forward to adding to his collection of boxers. He whispers in Harper’s ear. “I like a human who can obey so well.”

Harper stiffens in instant outrage. He glares over his shoulder. “You…Uber.”

Tyr hides a smile and slides his hand around to unfasten Harper’s pants. He pulls them low, baring the tight curves. His hand closes, large and dark, over the enticing swells. “Have you completed your second task, Harper?”

Harper shivers in response but his eyes are bold and rebellious. “Why should I?”

“You don’t want to claim your reward?” Tyr slaps the pale swells sharply, watching in fascination the resultant rosy glow. He strokes the flushed area softly.

Harper gasps and presses into the caress. He stares at Tyr with hot blue eyes. “Maybe. Maybe not. Depends. What’s the reward?”
Tyr grips the human’s shoulder and rolls him over. “That depends on how good you are.”

“The Harper is very, very good.”

“Indeed? Let’s see how good you are, Harper. You may not touch me. You may not touch yourself. Just watch…and feel.” Tyr slides lower.

Harper leans back on his elbows. “Tyr.”

“Did I say that you could speak?” Tyr rubs his beard along the length of Harper’s shaft.

Harper catches his breath. “No.”

Tyr lavishes long, slow licks on his prize, savoring the taste of Harper. He grips the human’s flanks firmly, refusing to allow Harper to arch upwards. Tyr nuzzles the gold froth of curls and kisses the soft skin of the heavy sac. Harper twists against his grip, moaning. Tyr moves up and takes the entire length of the shaft into his mouth for just a second before pulling back, slowly, scraping his teeth over the thick length. Harper is making wonderfully desperate noises. Tyr s a s a warm breath across the glistening shaft, smiling as it bobs eagerly in response.

Tyr moves further up and kisses the tight, clenching muscles of Harper’s stomach. “That’s how good you’ve been, Little Professor. If you want more…complete the second task and then I will finish this.” Tyr cups his palm over the swollen shaft, rubbing lightly across the head. “Remember, Harper. You can’t touch yourself.”

He takes Harper’s mouth in hard demand before releasing the human and leaving.

“Damn it, Tyr.” Floats behind him on the air.


Harper stands in front of the door to the mess. He still has three seconds to go before he can go in. He’s actually earlier than Tyr demanded but he is betting that if he goes in there one second early, Tyr will do something to him. Not that he minds Tyr doing things to him but tonight; he has an agenda of his own.

He has been anticipating Tyr’s mouth on him all day. His skin aock ock are aching with anticipation. Between the constant rub of cloth and the memories of Tyr’s hot mouth and replaying the feel and taste of Tyr in his mouth, he had not been able to concentrate on anything all day except getting a certain vital task done.

First, he is going to see what new surprise Tyr has for him and then he is going to claim his due, his reward for a job well done. Time now. Harper strides in boldly. “Okay, now what is it?”

His eyes widen. Whatever he was expecting it wasn’t anything like this. A small table with a white tablecloth is set up beyond the counter. A bottle of wine chills in a silver bucket of ice. Two, tall, white candles burn in silver holders. A single plate of sautéed vegetables sits on the table. A single wine glass.

Tyr stands by the table. His dreadlocks are draped over one shoulder. A vest of black silk cords highlights his chest muscles. He wears black leather pants. “Harper, sit down.”

Harper walks slowly over to the table. He is very conscious of Tyr’s amber gaze. He sinks down into one of the chairs, watching with interest as Tyr opens the wine and pours some in the glass. Tyr sits down across from him.

Harper reaches for the glass.

“No,” Tyr picks up the glass and presses the crystal rim to Harper’s lips.

Harper takes a sip. Tyr puts the glass aside and picks up a fork. He spears a carrot and holds it out. Harper leans forward and accepts the bite.

Beka walks in and freezes, staring at the table, candles and wine. Her eyes are round.

Harper can feel a blush heating his cheeks and crawling up the back of his neck. Tyr ignores her, spearing a snowpea pod and offering it in silent demand to Harper. Harper shivers and nibbles the pod off the fork.

“Don’t mind me, guys. I just need some coffee.” Beka shakes her head and walks into the kitchen area. She begins measuring out water. “Oh, Harper, when you get a chance, I want one of those showerheads.”

Tyr glances from her to Harper. “Showerheads?”

“Yeah. Harper installed one in Dylan’s quarters as a surprise. Dylan has been raving about how good it feels after a basketball game.”

Well, damn. There went his surprise agenda for Tyr. Harper looks at Tyr.

Tyr’s lush lips curve into a wicked smile. “So, Harper, you were in Dylan’s quarters installing…things. That’s good.”

Harper manages to look away from the dark promise in Tyr’s eyes. His voice is breathless as he speaks to Beka. “Sure, Beka. I got enough for all of us. Even Rev Bem, if he wants one. I put Dylan’s and Trance’s in already. You can be next on the list.”

“Great.” Beka pours a mug of coffee and leaves.

Tyr offers the wine. “Why didn’t you tell me, Harper?”

“I got distracted.” Harper sips.

“Did you?” Tyr sets the glass down. “Perhaps your reward was so insignificant that it slipped your mind? Perhaps you no longer want it?”

“No!” Harper squirms in his chair. “I mean, yes! I want it. I do.”

“Very well but dinner first.” Tyr offers a sliver of red pepper.

Harper eats quickly. It feels like forever before all the vegetables are gone. Finally the plate is empty and he waits expectantly for his promised dessert.

“More wine?” Tyr asks solemnly but his eyes gleam with amused anticipation.

“Not right now,” Harper says with all the dignity that he can manage. He feels ready to explode and Tyr hasn’t even touched him yet.

Tyr tilts his head as if listening to something. Mischief and calculation mix in his amber gaze. “Stand in front of the kitchen counter.”

Harper gets up and walks over to the counter, standing beside it. His knees tremble as Tyr walks up to him and then kneels in front of him. Harper swallows heavily as Tyr unfastens his pants and allows them to drop to the floor. The big hands grip the curves of his ass. He shivers as Tyr nuzzles against him.

Harper looks down. Not even his best fantasies could equal this reality. He cries out as much at the view as sensation as Tyr’s full lips slide softly down his swollen shaft. “Please Tyr. I can’t…” Harper swallows the rest of his plea in shock as Dylan walks in.

A quick glance at the counter, reassures him that Dylan can’t see Tyr kneeling behind the counter. Harper clutches the edge of the counter with one hand, trying to look casual. “Boss!”

Harper’s grip tightens on the counter and a muffled gasp escapes him as Tyr’s velvet tongue goes into play.

“Is something wrong, Harper?” Dylan frowns. “You look a little odd.”

“No,” Harper squeaks. He tries desperately to control his breathing and other things as Tyr begins to suck with enthusiasm. He grips Tyr’s hair, trying to slow the Nietzschean down. “Nothing wrong.”

Dylan pours a cup of coffee and sips. “Thank you for the showerhead, Harper. It’s excellent.”

“Oh, yes.” Harper bites his lip at the determined scrap of teeth and tongue over his cock. “Just the thing…after a hard…sweaty…workout. Yes. Got ‘em for everyone. Thought it would be…nice.”

Oh, please, please, please. Go away. He can’t hold out much longer under Tyr’s determined efforts. Oh, thank the Divine, Harper thinks as Dylan heads for the door.

Dylan stops at the door and turns with a frown. “Harper, do you hear anything?”

Harper shudders and clutches at Tyr’s head. “Ah, no. Nothing. Not a thing.”

“Hmmm. I thought I heard something.”

“No,” Harper gasps as Tyr’s rhythm increases demandingly. Nothing.”

“Well, if you are sure.” Dylan leaves.

Harper shudders and cries out. His hands drop to grip Tyr’s wide shoulders. Tyr kneels in front of him slowly licking his full lips. The amber eyes are hot and amused.


Tyr sits alone at the table. He glances up from his books as the door to the mess opens. Trance sails in. She pauses to inspect the tray of fruit filled turnovers sitting on the counter. “Wow, those smell great.”

“Help yourself. I baked them this morning.” Tyr returns to his book. He rarely baked since so much sugar was not nutritious but Harper deserved some extra attention this morning. The fresh fruit would provide, at least, a tiny amount of nutrition. He was going to have to work on Harper’s eating habits.

Tyr grins as he glances at the counter. He had not enjoyed anything so much in a long time as last night. Harper filling his mouth so deliciously. Harper’s desperate attempts not to come. It might be a little while before Harper recovered but he had had a wonderful time. Had Dylan ever figured out what those odd noises were?

Trance selects an apple filled turnover and sits down. “You look pleased this morning.”

“Why not?” Tyr shrugs. “It’s my day off.” And Harper’s day off as well.

Beka comes in. “Oh, yum. Pastries again. What’s the occasion?”

“I felt like baking today.”

“You certainly looked like you were cooking last night.” Beka tosses a grin over her shoulder as she drops a strawberry turnover on her plate. She pours a cup of coffee.

“This is Tyr’s day off, Beka. If he wants to bake, why not?” Trance nibbles on her turnover. “Especially since the results are so good.”

Tyr glances at the door. This time it is the person, he was waiting for. Harper walks in. The blue eyes met Tyr’s gaze for a second before looking away. A blush is climbing Harper’s cheeks. Tyr pretends to return his attention to his book but continues to watch as Harper selects two turnovers and collects a Sparky cola.

“Trance, Beka. Morning.” Harper sits next to Tyr, glancing shyly at him. His voice lowers slightly. “Tyr.”

Tyr looks up from his book. “Harper. You have plans for your day off?”

“Yeah. As it happens, I do.” Harper bites into one of his turnovers. His eyes close in pleasure. “These are wonderful. Did you make them, Tyr?”

“Yes. I thought that you deserved something special after last night.” Tyr pitches his voice for Harper’s ears alone.

“And I plan on having something special. Very special.” Harper takes a drink.

Tyr frowns. There is something in the tone that sends a shiver down his spine. Harper’s eyes are wide with an assumed innocence that he distrusts even more than the rebellious look. What is the human up to?

Dylan walks in, his glance sweeps appraisingly over the group. “Good morning.”
He pours a cup of coffee as the others chorus a greeting back.
Tyr remains silent, seemingly absorbed in his book.

“Whatcha reading?” Harper asks jauntily.

“The Prince.”

“Don’t you think it’s kinda early in the morning for that?” Harper nibbles on his turnover. “Start the day out right. Save the heavy reading for later.”

Tyr closes the book, giving his full attention to Harper. “I do not find philosophy heavy but if you are looking for something to read, I have other books.”

“Well, actually, I mostly read science reports and tech manuals.” Harper takes a long drink of Sparky Cola. His vivid eyes are full of mischief over the bottle.

Dylan sits beside Beka and slides a couple of flexis over the table. “I’m glad to hear that, Harper. I came across these and thought you might find them interesting.”

“Thanks, boss!” Harper pounces on them and begins reading, instantly absorbed.

Dylan smirks at Tyr. “I know how engineers love those tech manuals.”

Tyr stares coolly back. Is Captain Vanilla really initiating a contest over who can claim Harper’s attention this morning? It is a contest that Dylan is doomed to lose. Tyr places his hand on Harper’s lower back and waits until the tensing muscles tell him that he has the engineer’s full attention. “Tech manuals have their place as do philosophy texts but other works may also offer much of interest.”

Tyr smiles at Dylan. His hand slips under the hem over Harper’s white tee shirt. He strokes with just his fingertips, trailing over the sensitive skin of Harper’s lower back. Harper shifts in his chair and frowns determinedly at the flexi.

Dylan laughs. “Not for engineers. They live for tech manuals.”

“Indeed?” Tyr glides over smooth skin beneath the loose waistband of Harper’s pants. Ah, no boxers to impede his progress. His fingers stroke bold designs over the upper swell of Harper’s hip. Harper squirms and bites his lip as Tyr insinuates a finger down the cleft. “Harper, would you not be interested in other books?”

“That would depend on the book, I suppose.” Harper puts the flexi down and stares at Tyr. “Ghost stories can be fun.”

“I have some Poe stories in my quarters. I could read them to you if you wanted to come this evening…or…” Tyr allows his voice to trail off, knowing that he has Harper’s full and complete attention.

Harper licks his lips. He shifts again in his chair as Tyr’s fingers move lower. “Or?”

“I have other things that might interest you if you are in the mood for entertainment this evening.” Tyr smiles slowly, sensually into Harper’s blue eyes.

“What are you going to do on your day off, Harper?” Trance asks. “I have some new plants in hydroponics if you would like to see them.”

“I’ll certainly have to take a look at them then, Trance.” Harper wiggles again under the slow insistent caresses of Tyr’s hand. “First, I want to go to my workshop. I’m feeling suddenly inspired.” Harper turns a glower on Tyr, gathers up the flexis and Sparky Cola. “In fact, I’m leaving now.”

Tyr removes his hand and picks up his book. He watches over the edge as Harper stomps off.

“There, you, see Tyr.” Dylan smiles confidently over the rim of his coffee cup. “Engineers and their tech manuals.”

Tyr shakes his hair back. Poor Captain Vanilla didn’t even know when con contest was lost. Lost to something that Dylan would never understand. He stands up. “If you will excuse me. It’s time for my workout.”


Tyr invokes privacy mode and stretches out on his big bed, propped up on a nest of pillows. He reads an old book, bound in leather. Candles glowed softly on the table in the corner and the bedside chests. Harper’s boxers were neatly folded on the chest next to Tyr. The outer door chimes. Tyr closes the book and calls, “Enter.”

Harper struts over to the bed. “It’s done.”

Tyr places his book on the chest. “Show me.”

Harper sits next to him and hands him a box. Tyr opens the box. Four tiny discs sit in the box. Three minute lights on each disc glow blue.

“If the lights change to gold then…you know.” Harper grins proudly. “Do you like it?”

“Yes. This is perfect, Harper.” Tyr puts the box on the chest.

Harper bounces on the bed. “So, I get my reward?”

“Yes.” Tyr leans back against the pillows. His braids spread across the blue-gray fabric. “What would you like, Harper?”

“I get to chose? Anything I want?”

“What do you want, Harper?”

Harper reaches into his pockets and holds up a small bottle. He sets it on top of the box.

Tyr turns his head and glances at the bottle. “Very well. Undress.”

Harper pulls his shirt over his head and tosses it in the corner. His shoes thud against the wall, followed by his socks. His pants drop to the floor and get kicked carelessly aside.

Tyr touches his tongue to his lips. He had not expected Harper to have the nerve to demand this so soon. Harper’s boldness is most exciting and fills him with wild longing. “Come here.”

Harper crawls into the bed and lies down beside Tyr. Tyr turns to lean over him and frowns. He can smell fear. “Are you certain that this is what you want?”


Tyr strokes the blond hair soothingly. Does Harper truly want this or has the human sensed how badly Tyr wants it and is offering from a wish to please rather than genuine desire? “How long has it been since you did this, Harper?”

Harper blushes and looks away. “Do we have to talk about this?”

“Yes, we do.” Tyr cups the human’s cheek and turns Harper back to face him. “I do not wish to injure you. I want to be certain that you desire this.”

“I…I’ve never done it that way before.” Harper touches Tyr’s arm. His fingers trace the hard lines of muscle. “I’ve never wanted to…but with you…I want to try it.”

“It will hurt some,” Tyr warns softly.

Harper nods. He is scared but he wants this. He wants to know Tyr that way. He wants Tyr to be the first and last to do this. “I know. I read about it. Thought about it. I want this, Tyr. I want it with you.”

“Turn on to your side, Harper. It will be easier that way.”

Harper rolls to his side. His hands glide over the heavy muscles of Tyr’s chest. The pulse at the base of the Nietzschean’s throat tells him that Tyr is excited as well at the idea. Harper leans forward, kissing the corded lines of Tyr’s throat, stroking back the long hair. Tyr curls an arm around, Harper’s neck, pulling him closer.

Harper relaxes as Tyr touches him. The strong hands are delicate and gentle on him, reassuring in the careful caresses. He tilts his head back for a long, deep kiss. He arches his hips, rubbing his cock against the velvet thickness of Tyr’s.

Harper presses close, concentrating of the feel of Tyr’s hot tongue filling his mouth. He can feel the shift and slide of muscles as Tyr reaches behind for the bottle. Harper pulls back.

Tyr allows the move. Concern and lust mingle in the depths of his amber eyes. ”Change your mind, Harper?”

“Not exactly. I was thinking.” Harper hesitates not sure how to describe what he wants. “You said that it would be easier if I was on my side.”

“Yes.” Tyr sits up, pushing back his long hair. “The pain will be less that way.”

Harper licks his lips. His gaze flickers nervously away. He can feel a blush heating his face again. He murmurs softly, “I don’t want it to be…easier.”

“I see.” Tyr’s voice deepens. He shoves Harper back on the bed and moves over him.

Harper writhes as the big man flows over him. Hands and mouth searching out all his secrets. His hips arch in need and the hot mouth takes him. The long dreadlocks slid softly over his flanks and thighs as Tyr’s mouth pulls relentlessly at him.

Harper cries out, clutching at Tyr as the Nietzschean moves back.

Tyr is breathing deep and heavy as he studies the human. “I believe you are ready now, Harper. Almost.”

Tyr takes a thick, soft pillow and drops it on the bed. “Assume the position, Harper.”

Harper rolls over, laying his hips over the pillow. His cock nestles into the crisp fabric. He looks over his shoulder. The hungry expression on the Nietzscheans face as Tyr stares at his raised ass makes Harper swell even harder.

Tyr moves between his spread thighs. His hands move almost roughly, kneading the muscular swells, spreading them apart.

“Tyr.” Harper moans. He can feel fingers stroking lightly over him, trailing a cool, creamy damp down his cleft and lower. He presses back and wins a stinging slap across his ass.

“You will not move.”

Harper quivers with the effort to hold himself still as a single finger presses slowly inside. He has had this sensation before although only from his own hand. Tyr’s finger is wider, thicker as it strokes inside. Harper grabs the sheets, trying to keep from moving as a second finger eases inside. It hurts a little but in a way that he craves. “Please. Please. Please.”

The fingers withdraw. He can feel the wide head of Tyr’s cock nudging in silent promise. Harper arches back, desperate. Another slap across his ass sends a shudder through him. “Tyr.”

With tantalizing slowness the thick length eases forward. Harper moans. He has never felt anything like this. The feeling of fullness, thickness that hovers just on the edge of real pain. Of knowing that it is Tyr pressing deep inside. Tyr’s weight presses him deeper into the pillow. As Tyr begins to move, Harper finds his own cock rubbed against the slight rough fabric of the pillow. He can only moan and clutch frantically at the sheets.

Harper trembles as Tyr sets up a slow, deep, demanding rhythm that holds him dancing on the thin edge between pain and pleasure. Harper can no longer hold himself still. He arches back urgently and gets a hard slap just as Tyr pushes back in. Harper gasps at the new sensation added to the others. He quivers, trying to hold back, to last just a little longer then Tyr changes the angle, sliding over his sweet spot and Harper can hold back no more. He goes limp, panting. He is only distantly aware of Tyr going rigid for a second with a guttural growl.

Harper draws in a sharp breath as Tyr gently slides free. He is just beginning to become aware of aches and sore places that had gone ignored in the urgency of his need but he can’t seem to care. He lies still as Tyr gets up and disappears into the bathroom. He can hear water running, splashing.

In a few minutes, Tyr is back and leaning over him. Harper sprawls slackly as Tyr carefully eases him over. Tyr drops the used pillow on the floor and gently pats the damp cloth over Harper. Tyr tosses the cloth to the floor, pulls the human close. “Harper, are you okay?”

“Hmmm.” Harper snuggles close. “Better than okay. Way better.” He frowns as he stares at the old book that Tyr was reading. The neat rows of folded fabric beneath it look familiar. “Ah, Tyr, are those my boxers over there?”

“No, Harper.” Tyr strokes the human’s hair. “Those are my boxers. They used to be yours.”

Harper considers for a moment. “What if I want ‘em back?”

“Then you will have to earn them.”

Harper grins. That sounds interesting. Right now he doesn’t have the energy to pursue the inquiry but tomorrow, he will ask exactly how he could go about winning his boxers back. Still, he isn’t quite ready to go to sleep either. “What were you reading?”

“Edgar Allen Poe. I was just starting “The Cask of Amontillado”.”

“I don’t know that story. Would you read to me for a little while?” Harper asks shyly as he cuddles closer.

Tyr reaches out, picks up the book and begins reading softly, “’The thousand injuries of Fortunato I had borne as best I could; but when he ventured upon insult, I vowed revenge.’”

Harper snorts. “I can see why you like this one already.”

“Do you want me to read or not, Harper?”

“Read, please.” Harper nuzzles against Tyr’s shoulder and relaxes, listening to the deep, soft voice reading Poe’s tale of revenge.


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