Author: Celia Deacon
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: If I owned them, the show would be *very* different, believe you me.
Notes:
Set after “The Shards of Rimni”. This is for Stacey and for Astrid, my two wonderful betas. HUGE
THANKS to everyone on SORT--this certainly wouldn't exist without your help!
Feedback would be appreciated. celia_deacon@yahoo.com
*******
"Close"
by C. Deacon
"Did I say it was worthless? No. It's priceless, and isn't that the value of all dreams?"
Harper realizes, sometimes, that he's been hanging around here too long. Three years ago, his first priority would have been memorizing that statement and getting to Beka's quarters as fast as he could so that they could mock Dylan. The value of all dreams? Nobody on Earth would have ever aid that. Maybe no one on Tarn-Vedra would have either; it's possible Dylan's speeches are characteristic of him and him alone.
Harper's aware that he should go now. Dylan's made his little rhetorical statement and that's usually Harper's cue to exit. And yet...Dylan's still looking at him. In sort of the same way, he realizes, that Dylan was looking at the vase of Rimni a minute ago. He's not sure exactly how to describe that _expression, but he knows that Dylan would have been willing to die to make sure the vase stayed in the right hands.
He says, "Anything else, boss?" and Dylan shakes his head, but keeps giving him that look. Then he says, "Actually, Mr. Harper, I did want to ask you something."
Harper knows that this is probably not good. "Fire away."
"When you were about to take that bullet for me...I guess I'm just curious as to what you were thinking."
That wasn't what he'd been expecting, and he's not sure how to answer.
"I wasn't thinking anything," he says finally. "I just...he was pointing a gun at you, Dylan. I didn't have time to come up with one of my usual brilliant plans." Then he adds, "But I guess it was pretty close to what you were thinking when Abelard had that shard to my throat." He'd seen Dylan's expression then, and almost felt sorry for Abelard. Almost.
Dylan shakes his head. "I can't believe he thought he could get away with it." He tries to smile. "I don't know where I'd find another engineer."
Dylan was really scared, Harper realizes, and he feels surprisingly good about that.
"It's nice to be appreciated," Harper says. Somehow, they're very close together. Harper's not sure which of them moved, and Dylan's still giving him this look that's so intense he feels like it could burn through his skin.
"You're always appreciated, Mr. Harper," Dylan says, his voice hoarse.
"Dylan," Harper breathes, and then he decides not to talk, and leans up until their mouths meet. He's been thinking about doing this for so long that it's almost anticlimactic, but it's so good, as good as he expected it would be. He knows his sudden total arousal is probably just a reaction to the stress of the day, and he couldn't care less.
Dylan, being perfect at everything else, is also an excellent kisser, but it's not enough and Harper needs pressure, friction, right now. He's got his back against Dylan's desk, so he boosts himself up enough that he's sitting on the edge, his legs wrapped around Dylan's waist. Dylan's got both hands on his back and he feels like he could come just from the pressure of their bodies, but Dylan pulls away.
"Harper, maybe this isn't a--"
"Dylan. Do not say this isn't a good idea, because we both know it's not a good idea and we both know we're going to do it anyway, right?"
Dylan thinks about that. "Actually, yes." A pause, then, "My quarters are closer than yours."
Harper grins. "Can't make it that far, boss."
"You know, it's fundamentally wrong that you're still calling me 'boss' ".
"Well, stop calling me Mr. Harper and we'll call it even. Now come on, I'm dying here."
Dylan looks like he's considering whether to sweep all the stuff off his desk or just throw Harper on the floor. Then he says, "Come over here," and pulls his chair out from behind the desk. Harper salutes and says, "Glad to know you think you can still order me around," but he knows that he needs this enough that he'll do basically anything Dylan tells him. Not, of course, that Dylan has to know that. Then Dylan sits down and pulls Harper into his lap, and he can't think anymore.
He's unfastening his pants frantically, Dylan's doing the same and he knows they're not going to have time to strip any more than that. He wants it to be better--he's been waiting to do this for so long and it should last longer, but he can't--the heat of their bodies together is too overwhelming. He straddles Dylan and just rubs mindlessly, Dylan rubbing against him the same way, trying to hold on to him, both of them desperate now.
Dylan's got one hand on Harper's back and the other touching his hair, both hands stroking him. That feeling of being held is so good, and Harper wants to be able touch Dylan the same way, slow down a little, but he's having some trouble just holding on. He thinks it would probably ruin the moment if he actually slid off Dylan's lap, so holds on tighter, clutching at Dylan's shoulders.
He feels the wetness, the precome leaking from both of their cocks as they rub together. The sensation is so purely pleasurable that it almost hurts, and he's frantic. He hears himself whimpering, and presses tighter against Dylan's body.
Then suddenly the friction is too much and he's coming, moaning, "Oh God, Dylan, Dylan", his own voice strange and unfamiliar in his ears, and Dylan groans his name and comes hard, finishing just after Harper does.
He's hot and trembling and Dylan pulls him closer, despite the stickiness between them. Harper tries to remember how to breathe. When he can form coherent thoughts again he says “I’m okay, you know. We're both okay."
"Better than okay," Dylan says, voice muffled against Harper's hair.
"Today was close, though, wasn't it?"
"Yeah," Harper says. "But if there's one thing I learned on Earth it's that 'close to happening' is not the same as 'actually happened'. You know?" He thinks for a while, then says, "Dylan? Could you start displaying favoritism now? Like, could I have a raise?"
Dylan looks at him with such affection, and that warms him as much as the sex. He hasn't had anyone besides Beka do that for a long, long time.
"I'll think about it. You are awfully valuable."
*****
THE END