What's In It For You?

BY : Lursa_and_BeTor
Category: 1 through F > Andromeda
Dragon prints: 5421
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.

The tide of pain is ebbing. Receding softly like surf on the beach except for the bitter pain in his arm. Where is he? What are they trying now?

He is no longer chained tightly to a wall. He is lying on a thin, narrow mattress that feels wonderful against his bare shoulders after the rough stone. There is a thick pillow under his aching head. He is aware of the aches, bruises, cuts but only distantly. His nanobots are working to heal him and ease the pain.

Tyr lies still, keeping his eyes closed and his breathing soft and even. He can hear someone else breathing but it sounds rough, flavored with a deep anger. There is the soft splash of water and the rustle of cloth. Only one person nearby.

The smell here is different from where he was. It is vaguely familiar. The sheets beneath his bare body, the pillow under his head…it all smells clean, fresh. He can smell oil and mechanical smells. There is the smooth hum of running machinery.

“Come on…keep it together. Focus on cleaning his wounds and making sure he’s comfortable. Focus.” A faint voice in the distance.

Footsteps approach. Light. Quiet. Quick. There is something familiar in the pattern of movement that tugs at his memory. He knows that rhythm. It is as familiar and close as his heartbeat and yet knowledge eludes him. A shadow falls across his face, telling him that the oddly familiar other hovers near his bed. He can feel the mattress give as the other sits next to him. What game is his enemy playing now?

“Dammit…god dammit!” The voice is low and furious. “I got to him in time. He’s strong, he’s gonna be okay. Right…keep telling yourself that.”

Tyr senses movement and braces himself not to react. A cold, damp cloth moves gently over his face. His lips part reflexively as the dampness smoothes over them. The cold is refreshing. The washing away of the scents of his pain and his enemies’ glee in it is heartening. The cloth is returned to a pan of water, wrung out and then the other leans closer, lightly patting the cloth over his face, throat and chest.

“Aww man, they really worked you over. I hope those superior nanobots of yours can help ‘cause I sure as hell don’t know much about this kind of damage.”

Tyr breathes in cautiously against the ache of the deeply bruised muscles layering his ribs. That scent…he knows it. It matches the quick, light, quiet footsteps in his memory. It explains why he has felt no urge to attack. His pretense of relaxation eases into genuine relaxation. It is not a trap but what is Harper doing here? Why is Harper here? He listens intently. No one else is around. Why Harper and Harper alone?

“Damn Dylan! Always willing to sacrifice someone else on the glorious Altar to the Commonwealth. Every single time there’s a debt it’s one of us who has to pay it. Not ‘Saint Dylan’.” Harper grouses as he cleans the cuts and abrasions. “It’s like he’s trying to get us all killed on purpose. Well, not if I have anything to say about it.”

With the identity of his companion, that of the place also registers with Tyr. He is on the Eureka Maru but how? Tyr frowns, searching his memories. Dylan had sent him to negotiate with the Wakans about joining the Commonwealth. He had been uneasy because the Wakans had wanted him as their envoy…had asked for him specifically.

He had anticipated betrayal and had gone armed. The meeting had seemed to go well enough until Dylan had been lured away by a false distress call. The Drago-Kazov had emerged from where the Wakans had permitted them to hide. There had been a fight. He had killed many but been taken in the end.

They had let him listen as they offered him back to Dylan for a price. He remembered Dylan’s face as the Captain made a bold speech about not giving into blackmail and then…the chains, the pain. Their laughter as they broke one of his bone blades and his body arched in anguish. Their promise to return to break one each hour.

Then Harper…he can remember seeing Harper standing in the doorway of his cell and wondering why he was hallucinating about the engineer. He remembers the fury in the blue eyes and gentle, cool hands on him. Harper guiding him out and away.

A shudder escapes his control. Harper’s hand moves, strong and gentle on his face, tracing almost healed bruises. Another few days and the more superficial bruises will be completely gone. The surface cuts will be healed. The deeper cuts and bruises will take longer. The snapped bone blade longest of all his injuries to heal. Tyr tentatively flexes the remaining blades in his left forearm and hisses at the resulting flood of pain.

Harper leans down stroking back Tyr’s hair. “It’s okay, Tyr. You’re safe. You’re with me on the Maru and you’re gonna be fine…I hope.” He brushes his hand across Tyr’s brow. “I’m sorry, Tyr. I’m sorry you had to stay in that hellhole so long because Dylan wouldn’t come after you…but I couldn’t just leave you with those bastards! I came as soon as I could to find you. Got you out as fast as I could. You’re safe now.”

Tyr relaxes into the blessed comfort of the bed, relishing the rare luxury of being taken care of. The last time, he had received such tender care was back when his Pride was still whole. Why was Harper gifting him with such tender attentions? There was no alliance between them. No obligation. No bonds beyond that of being fellow crewmembers. Nothing that was enough to explain what Harper had risked for him.

If Harper had been captured…why had Harper taken the risk…to come after him alone. Harper is a good fighter for one so small. He is clever and makes good use of any advantages that come his way. Harper is brave. All this he has observed and admired about the engineer. Why has Harper chosen to exert himself on Tyr’s behalf? How could it benefit Harper? How could the risk be worth the gain to Harper?

Tyr becomes aware of a curious stillness in the human sitting next to him. He hears the clink of the pan being set on the floor. The splatter of the cloth dropping in the pan of water. Harper’s fingers settle, light as flower petals, on his face. The hesitant fingers trace his cheekbones, investigate his beard and slowly, delicately outline the curves of his lips. His breath hitches in his chest. What is Harper doing? Where is the human going with this? Was the engineer seeking, offering an alliance?

“Tyr? Tyr!” Harper’s voice is worried…cautious. “Oh shit, did you just stop breathing? Oh nononono…you’re not dying on me after I worked so hard to get you back!”

Tyr holds his breath, waiting to see what Harper will do next. The initial amazement is flowering into an increasing pleasure at the light touches. He wants more. Much more. He has been lonely for a long time on the Andromeda, knowing himself tolerated for his skills and knowledge but not valued. His people’s ways, the ways of real Nietzscheans, scorned and misunderstood because of degenerate genetic inferiors like the Drago-Kazov.

He is part of the crew but not truly. Dylan sometimes sought his company for games of go and basketball but that was policy not true liking. He had nothing to do with his off duty time but study, read, exercise and improve his fighting skills. The loneliness had gone soul deep.

Never would he have thought that Harper…Harper who had every reason to despise all Nietzscheans would even consider an alliance with one. Much less desire such an arrangement. Harper had come to accept him but…he had no idea that Harper valued him so greatly. There is no greater proof of his value to Harper than the risks the human had taken to rescue him.

“I guess…I guess I’ll have to help you start breathing. Okay. I can do this. Okay, Harper…this is just CPR. You’re the only one who can save him. It’s not a kiss. Stop looking at his lips. Just do it. Just CPR…you can do this.”

Tyr can feel a giddy bubbling lightness at the possibility of finding an alliance with such a companion. He can feel the human’s breath soft on his cheek. Harper’s fingers edged along the line of his jaw and the cool palm cradles his bruised face. Tyr gives himself up to the luxury of being touched. Harpers lips press lightly against his. Tyr parts his lips further, encouraging silently, pleading. Harper hesitates for an agonizing moment then those wonderful lips mold themselves faithfully to the curves of Tyr’s mouth.

Tyr feels Harper’s breath fill his mouth. His lungs swell with the warmth of Harper’s breath. The human’s hands cradle his face, smoothing gently over his bruises. It is all Tyr can do not to give the game away by responding overtly. Harper pulls back slightly. Tyr can smell Harper’s fear but it is fear for him, not of him. Tyr takes a ragged breath.

“Thank the Divine! Man, don’t scare me like that!” Harper remains close. His fingers trace Tyr’s lips and linger over the lush curves. “You’ve got a great mouth, d’you know that? Even when you’re calling me ‘boy’ I can’t help noticing your lips. They’re as soft as I thought they would be.”

“Listen to me!” Harper shakes his head disbelievingly. “You’re lying here fighting for your life and I’m lusting after your mouth...among other things. I’d never dream of saying this to you while you’re awake. Oh no, man, The Harper does not have a death wish! Please wake up, Tyr. Open those gorgeous eyes and tell me I make you sick…call me an annoying little kludge…anything…just wake up. You’re the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen even when you’re pissed off.”

He knew he had beauty, that others found his face and body pleasing. Tyr had never thought that Harper would see beauty in him. One might think that he is too male, too Nietzschean for the human to desire him. He has never observed Harper taking notice of men in such a way. The human was always flitting about women trying to win their attention. Could it be that Harper, like the members of Kodiak Pride, appreciated both? It has been so long, so very long since he has been touched this way. Every touch silently expressing love and desire. He revels in it. He longs to return it but fears Harper will flee if he responds openly.

“One little kiss can’t hurt. It’s not like you’ll ever know…or care.” Harper brushes his lips across Tyr’s full ones. The tip of Harper’s tongue barely edges between his parted lips and Tyr cannot restrain a throaty growl. To his dismay Harper begins to withdraw.

No! He will not lose this. He will not allow this to slip away. Tyr’s hand darts out and seizes Harper’s arm. His grip is firm and determined. He keeps his voice soft and non-threatening in tone. “Harper…what are you doing?”

If Harper truly does not want this…if the human’s actions were born of curiosity or impulse, he will let Harper go but he has to know and he sees no reason to chase the engineer around the Maru for answers. Tyr opens his eyes. His vision is blurry. He blinks against the light and the image comes clear.

Panic, worry, embarrassment, shame wash quickly in succession over Harper’s pale face. Harper tenses and twists his wrist sharply, pulling against Tyr’s hand. He takes a deliberately snippy tone. “Well, you’re welcome for saving your life…now will you let go of me!”

Tyr half-smiles. Hiding behind a verbal offensive is so Harper. “You didn’t answer my question. What were you doing?”

Tyr inhales sharply as he is forced to tighten his grip and shift his position to keep his hold on Harper. The move puts pulls the deeply bruised muscles on his side. His bone blades flicker involuntarily and Tyr closes his eyes, biting his lips at the pain throbbing remorselessly in the stub of the broken one.

The impulse to fight flickers and fades in Harper’s vivid blue eyes at the sound and Tyr’s sudden ashen stillness. Harper goes still and glances quickly at Tyr before looking away.

“I was giving you CPR. Do you mind? Let go of me. You had stopped breathing.”

Tyr opens his eyes again, not trying to hide the pain revealed there. “I did not stop breathing…did I?”

“Yeah…yeah you did.” Harper flicks a quick guarded glance at him.

Tyr allows his hand to slide down the human’s arm. Harper’s skin is so wonderfully cool. He can feel small cuts and scars from the engineer’s eternal tinkering. He keeps his hand closed around Harper’s wrist; he does not trust the human not to flee if given the chance. “Thank you.”

“For what?” Harper shifts his weight uncomfortably on the bed.

“For not leaving me in that…place.” Tyr strokes his thumb slowly over Harper’s wrist.

Harper shrugs. “Anyone would have…”

“Anyone did not. Dylan did not, nor Beka. Trance did not come to my aid. Even Rev Bem did not.” Tyr watches the human closely. “Harper did. Why?”

“Yeah, well...” Harper wiggles his wrist, testing Tyr’s grip. “It seemed like a good idea at the time. Now would you let go? I need to check on some stuff.”

If the human is offering an alliance, it is time to give Harper something to think on. Some encouragement or incentive. Some signal that he is not adverse to the idea. Tyr raises Harper’s strong hand. He holds the human’s gaze as he rubs Harper’s palm against his beard. He lays a soft kiss in the center of the human’s palm as an offering all the while watching intently as the vivid blue eyes widen. “Then we will…talk more later.”


Harper drops into the pilot’s chair. He looks down at his open palm as if he is expecting to see something there. The answer to a riddle perhaps. The riddle that is Tyr Anasazi. What was that? Tyr had kissed his palm. He could still feel the heat of those plush lips. Why?

Oh, shit. Had Tyr been awake? Aware enough to hear the things that he had said? Had Tyr known about that kiss on his lips? Damn. Damn. Damn. At least he hadn’t laughed at him. Yet…Tyr had kissed him as well. Harper frowns at his palm. What did it mean?

Tyr had thanked him a little before the kiss on his palm. Had Tyr heard his comments and decided that a mercy fuck was a suitable reward? Harper’s eyes narrow as a wave of pure fury hits him. He will not be cheapened that way. He will not have the thing that he yearns for most tossed at him like a casual treat. He will not have his deepest feelings dismissed in such a manner.

“So you offer yourself as a consolation prize, is that it? So I get a little tumble in the hay as reward for saving your ass? Well, too bad! I want the whole package not just a taste…a kibble…a bit.”

He has done what he has done as a free gift. No price. No strings. No expectations. No demands. He rescued Tyr because he loved the Nietzschean. Because the universe would be less without Tyr in it.

Harper looks sharply at his control panels. His eyes caught by a pattern forming. “Oh, crap.”

He snaps the harness quickly around him. His mouth forms a determined line. Those bastards are not getting their paws on Tyr again. He flips the communications system switch. “Tyr, we’ve got company. I’m gonna try and lose them.”

Harper opens a slipstream and takes off. His opponents match his course. A signal comes through as he prepares to take to the slipstream again.

“This is Field Marshal Dar Geddes of Drago-Kazov pride. We are within weapons range and will fire on you if necessary.”

“What can I do you for, Field Marshal?” Harper quips as he flips switches to prepare to haul butt out of the area.

“Give us Anasazi and we will let you go.” Contempt coats the words.

“No can do there, uh…Field Marshal. Finders keepers, ya know.” Harper says with a quirky grin.

“Don’t be stupid, kludge. We’ll blow your pathetic little ship to pieces.”

“If I’m such a kludge, how come I tip-toed past all you big, bad Nietzscheans and made off with your prize prisoner?” Harper taunts. He only needs a few more seconds. The other ship fires on him in response.

“Temper. Temper.” Harper mocks as he takes to the slipstream again.

There is a barely repressed groan behind him. Harper glances over his shoulder to see Tyr. The Nietzschean is wrapped in a white sheet and clutching the wall. Wobbly but determined by the look of him. Anger sparks in Harper as he watches Tyr gingerly move to a console and take charge of it. “Tyr, go back to bed. I can handle this.”

Harper turns his attention back to seeking where he wants to go. There is an asteroid field in a nearby system. If he can get out ahead of the two ships and hide behind a suitable asteroid, his opponents can play hide and seek all year without ever finding him. Somehow, he doubts that this group will have the patience to hang around very long.

There. Harper pops out of the slipstream. He rapidly zigzags his way through the field. Ah-hah. He hovers delicately for a second and then slides behind a large asteroid. He waits, ready in the pilot’s chair as the two enemy ships begin scouting for him. He grins as they pass him by and proceed to move further and further away from his location.

“No match for The Harper! Doesn’t seem quite fair…but I’m not complaining.”

Harper unsnaps his harness and stands up. He turns to find Tyr partially slumped over the console.

“Tyr!” Harper hurries over and lays a hand on Tyr’s shoulder. “Pig headed Nietzschean! Didn’t I tell you to get back to bed? Can’t just leave well enough alone and let me handle things, huh?”

Tyr moves slowly to face him. He reaches out, running his hand through the silky spikes of Harper’s wild hair. “I wanted to help, Harper.”

“Well, you’re no help if you fall down and undo all my good medical care.”

Tyr leans forward his lips poised over Harper’s. Harper pulls back and frowns. So Tyr had heard him babbling. “Thanks but no thanks, Tyr. The Harper does not do mercy fucks.”

“I expect no mercy, Harper.” Tyr whispers his amber gaze intent on Harper’s face.

Harper’s eyebrows almost merge with his hairline. Where had that comment come from? Was Tyr offering himself as…best not to think along those lines. Just get him back to bed so he can rest.

“Let’s get you out of here and back to bed. You need more rest. Allow yourself time to let your nanobots do their work.” He slides under Tyr'a arm, draping it over his shoulder. Harper shivers as the long braids brush his face. This is no time to be thinking about how soft Tyr’s hair is and how many of his fantasies had featured his hands in that glorious hair. Harper guides the big Nietzschean back to the bunk. By the time, they get there; Tyr is shaking from the exertion.

Harper helps Tyr lie down, trying the smooth skin under his hands. The softness of Tyr’s hair is distracting. Harper is having a difficult time trying not to think about the acres of smooth, warm, bare skin under the sheet. The knowledge that there is nothing but Tyr under the sheet is difficult, almost impossible to ignore. Resisting temptation had never been a Harper strong point.

“Stay here.” Harper orders as he stands, looking down at Tyr. He has to get away before he does something stupid, like accepting the invitation that Tyr keeps making. “I’ve got to go make sure everything is powered down. Don’t want our ‘friends’ catching us in a random sensor sweep. Try to get some sleep while I’m working. I’ll check on you later.” Harper dashes down the passageway out of sight of the temptation lying on the bed.


Tyr wakes some time later. It is dark. He is very aware of the soft steady breathing from the bunk above him. Had he been mistaken? Or had Harper been taken by a fit of skittishness? Tyr stares up at the bunk. When he had made the next move by yielding to the temptation to touch Harper’s hair, the human had moved back. Tyr sighs. Harper’s hair had been so soft, so pleasing in color and texture.

He is a little surprised at the depth of his disappointment. Harper’s hands had felt so good, so right on him. Harper had offered praise and admiration. Harper had fought for him…rescued him from a stronghold of his enemies. Harper had kissed him. What else was he to think but that the human was extending an offer of alliance?

Yet here he is…alone in his bed with none of the promised comfort and tenderness that Harper’s touch had silently offered. This is not acceptable. He wants Harper to come to him. He wants Harper with him. Merely thinking of the cool caress of those strong, pale hands is having an effect on him.

“Harper...” Tyr croaks. He clears his throat and tries again. “Harper, are you awake?”

There is a rustle of covers in the upper bunk. The light panels flare to life. “I am now.”

Harper drops lithely over the side to stand over Tyr. The human is wearing a dark blue tee shirt that fits tightly over his muscles. Loose, dark blue boxers conceal his hips from Tyr’s hungry stare. “What’s the matter? Are you in pain? What do you need?”

Tyr forces his gaze up to Harper’s face. “I need to speak with you. I think I offended you earlier and that was not my intention.”

Harper yawns and rakes his fingers through his blond hair, making it even more disheveled. “Yeah, well, you know what they say about intentions.”

Tyr looks into Harpers crystal gaze. The tactile memory of that silky hair under his hand, urges him to speak bluntly. “I desire an alliance with you and I need to know if you desire one with me.”

“What? Are you delirious?” Harper places a cool hand on Tyr’s brow.

Tyr closes his eyes and sighs contentedly at the touch, pressing into it. He needs this. He needs Harper. “I heard some of what you said and I want you to know I am open to the idea.”

“I don’t know what you heard…” Harper’s voice is nervous but his hand continues to stroke soothingly over Tyr’s brow.

Tyr opens his eyes, meeting Harper’s confused stare. “You kissed me.”

“What are you saying, Tyr?” Harper steps back and folds his arms. He frowns sternly. “I told you I don’t do mercy fucks.”

“As I said to you at that time…I expect no mercy from you.” His voice deepens in an implicit offer. Tyr pulls the sheet slowly down to his waist, watching the smolder of desire in Harper’s eyes. It was good to be desired again. Good to be able to offer and take pleasure in touching.

Harper’s breath deepens but he takes another step back. “You’re still healing. You’re not well, Tyr.”

“I am well enough, Harper.” Tyr pushes the sheet lower, openly revealing the unsatisfied ache of his own desire. Ah, the avid look on Harper’s face tells him that the human does want the offered alliance. Tyr strokes lightly over the solid length of his cock. His fingers outline the swollen veins and circle provocatively over the smooth head. “Do you desire me?”

“Stupid question, Tyr. You know that I do. But I’m not going to just roll over and spread ‘em because you’re feeling charitable today.” Anger sparks in Harper’s eyes but he cannot look away from the slow, teasing stokes of Tyr’s fingers.

“I’m not asking you to roll over, Harper.” Tyr inhales sharply at stab of pain over his ribs as he tries to turn over onto his front.

“Whoa…whoa, whoa…are you offering…what I think you’re offering?” Harper quickly steps close, laying a restraining hand on Tyr’s shoulder. “And even if you are, your ribs are still too sore for that. Lie back down.”

“I want this, Harper. I want you.” Determined to convince, Tyr reaches out boldly. His palm strokes across the front of Harper’s boxers. The swollen shape under his hand is promisingly long and thick. Tyr squeezes gently, encouragingly. His breathing deepens with anticipation. “I want this.”

Harper gasps and arches into the caress. Tyr slides his hand down Harper’s bare thigh. The muscles are tight and solid, holding the potential for the deep, strong thrusting that he is craving. His hand moves up to the human’s waist, slipping under Harper’s shirt caressing the pebbled nipples.

“Just lay back, Tyr.” Harper says breathlessly. “We can do this without damaging you, I’m sure.” Harper’s hand trails down the length of Tyr’s arm, caresses the palm of his upturned hand and the strong fingers.

Tyr nestles against the bed, watching as Harper removes the tee shirt and tosses it on the floor. The revealed chest is nicely defined and muscular with tight, dark peach nipples. T eye eyes widen with delight as Harper removes his boxers. The vision confirms the impressive dimensions that his earlier tactile exploration had promised. It has been a long time since he’s lain with a man. Harper’s size may prove to be a challenge. A wonderful challenge.

“Harper…It’s been a while for me.” Tyr murmurs as the human eases carefully onto the narrow bed, trying to avoid jarring any injuries. An eager moan escapes him as Harper’s solid length rubs against his thigh. “I not sure if I can accommodate your girth.” Tyr traces one finger along the thick length to circle the wide head.

“I’ll prepare you before I take you. Relax Tyr.” Harper molds his lips to Tyr’s mouth. He nibbles softly at the lower lip. His hand slides down Tyr’s chest and over the tight stomach muscles to claim the velvet heat waiting for him. “The Harper is good.”

Tyr gasps, arching under the possessive caress, pressing himself more firmly into Harper’s hand. His head moves restlessly against the pillow.

“Did I hurt you…are you alright?” Harper pauses, studying the dark face, the burning amber eyes for signs of pain.

“No. It feels…your hand feels so…good.” Tyr closes his eyes, the better to focus on sensation. He is breathing quickly.

Harper moves lower. He lavishes kisses across the wide chest, pausing to lick and nibble dark chocolate nipples into hard points. Tyr’s big hands settle on his head, urging him lower still. Harper kisses his way down the rippling length of clenching stomach muscles. He nuzzles the dark curls of hair and takes the swollen head into his mouth.

Tyr arches upward with a hoarse, urgent cry. The warm, moistness surrounding him is an exquisite torment. The velvet caress of Harper’s artful tongue as the human’s hand gently squeezes the aching heaviness of his sac. The dual sensations are almost too much.

Harper’s hand moves briefly away to Tyr’s disappointment. His breathing deepens as a slick wetness brushes the tightness of his sac then slides lower. Tyr presses longingly into the touch, raising his knees, spreading his legs wide in ardent welcome. One finger circles then slips inside to be joined quickly by another. Harper spreads the fingers, gently stretching, pushing them deeper, preparing Tyr to receive him.

“Harper stop teasing me. I need to feel you inside me.” Tyr demands hoarsely as he pushes down onto the questing fingers.

“Patience. I want this to be good for both of us.” Harper crawls down and positions himself between Tyr’s strong thighs. He presses a row of kisses down the sensitive skin of the inner thighs. Harper grins as an impatient growl rumbles in Tyr’s throat. His own breath catches as the Nietzschean’s muscular hips arch up in silent offering, exposing his goal to his view. Harper presses the slick, wide head of his cock gently but relentlessly forward as he stares into Tyr’s hot amber gaze. “God, Tyr! Your ass is so tight, so hot!”

Tyr’s grips Harper’s shoulders as he writhes demandingly under the human. “Fill me up, Harper. I want to feel all of you.”

Harper flexes his hips and pushes, burying his entire length in his lover. His lover? That’s right. Tyr is his now. He hands clench possessively over the hard curves of Tyr’s ass. Harper nips a wide shoulder. “You’re mine, Tyr. I don’t share.”

“Neither do I, Seamus.” Tyr moans. His hands slide over the soft skin covering the firm, flexing muscles of Harper’s back. Tyr offers himself without regret for it had been so long since he felt loved by another. How odd that the one person most likely to spurn him, treasured him.

Under Tyr’s urgent hands, Harper moves faster. He presses deeper into the tight heat clenching around him. He changes the angle of his hips so that the length of his cock strokes over Tyr’s sweet spot with every thrust drawing a cry of joy from the big man.
It is too much. Tyr throws his head back exposing the long line of his throat. Harper leans forward to lick the softness just above the hollow of Tyr’s throat. His teeth scrape lightly before he sucks a bit of that caramel skin into his mouth to mark the Nietzschean as his.

Harper claims what he has wanted for so long. When Tyr arches his back and achieves his release with an inarticulate cry of joy; Harper is filled with a possessiveness that makes him drive harder, deeper into his lover…intent on showing him that no other can please him…no other need dare touch him. Seamus Harper shares with no one. Tyr groans, arching frantically beneath Harper before falling back limp and dazed against the bed.

After a second Tyr, recovers enough energy to open his eyes and slowly focus on the face of his human. Harper’s eyes are closed; his face flushed…his body glistening with a light sheen of perspiration. Tyr smiles…he has never seen anyone more beautiful. He wraps himself around his lover, pressing Harper to him. His legs lock around the human. Tyr tightens his muscles and, with a hoarse cry, Harper collapses against him in satisfaction.

“Oh, man, that was worth the price of the ticket.” Harper sighs.

Tyr kisses the top of the engineer’s head then threads his fingers through the damp silk of Harper’s hair. He cradles the precious weight against him. His hands move in slow, soothing strokes over Harper’s back. It is good to have ntimntimate ally again. To be free to yield himself up to the relentless demand of being taken. To grant another the right of possession.

“I will hold you to what you said, Seamus.” Tyr murmurs.

Harper turns his head to look into the face of his lover. “What are you talking about?” He traces Tyr’s lips with his finger. “Oh, the part about you being mine alone? The part about my not sharing you?”

Tyr kisses Harper’s finger. “Yes.”

“You don’t have a problem with that?” Harper asks.

Tyr shakes his head. “Not at all. You have proved your genetic worth on many occasions. You cared enough for me to rescue me…to save my life.”

“Proved my genetic worth…” Harper rises up on his arm to stare indignantly at Tyr’s face only to find the Nietzschean grinning at him. “You big tease!”

Harper shifts his position only to freeze at Tyr’s groan. “You’re still healing and this bunk isn’t big enough for the both of us.”

“Don’t move. I want to feel you inside me a while longer.” Tyr tightens his legs around Harper.

“Let me up, Tyr.” Harper insists as he pulls away. “This is not the only time we’ll make love.”

Tyr sighs with disappointment as the thick cock eases slowly from his body. He rises, leaning on his uninjured arm while reaching for Harper with his other arm. “I want you near me when we get back to Andromeda. I want to wake with you sleeping beside me. I want to feel you in my arms each night.”

“We can work out logistics later, Tyr.” Harper strokes his hand down Tyr’s arm, pressing a soft kiss near the broken bone blade. His eyes darken in anger as he kisses the injured arm again before gently pushing Tyr back down. “Lie there. I’ll get some warm water and clean you up before I take a shower.”

Tyr lies back against his pillow. He is reluctant to discontinue the pampering but his nanobots have been busy and he is able to care for himself now. It is not proper for him to be so greedy for Harper’s tenderness. “Seamus, I’m well enough to take care of myself.”

“Maybe…stop arguing and let me do this. I enjoy taking care of you.” Harper leans down and kisses Tyr thoroughly before swaggering away.

Tyr laughs, soft and intimate.

Harper pivots. “What?”

“Nothing…I was just admiring your…form.” Tyr’s smile is sleepily sensual.

“Is that your way of saying I’ve got a great ass?” Harper shakes his head and struts away.

Tyr watches each step with a predatory gleam in his eyes until Harper is no longer in view. He preens, lifting a hand to trace the passion mark left on his throat. Later when he has more energy he will see that Harper wears a matching mark. For now, it is enough to lie there, listening to the small domestic noises.

He can hear Harper humming as the human fills a basin with water. The hum has a contented, relaxed tone. Since Harper insists, a little more pampering will be acceptable. Tyr looks around the Maru’s crew quarters with a bemused gaze. He will never think of the small ship quite in the same way ever again.


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