Tyr is not surprised that Harper is a light sleeper. He'd be more surprised if he wasn't. Amusing, sometimes, to shift in just the wrong way, or to lightly exhale, blowing air across Harper's face, or just below the ear. See the sleepy eyes snap open, and glare blue lasers at him, followed by a sleepy, irritated injunction to not do it again.Complying for all of fifteen minutes, and doing it all over again from the beginning, taking care to remain out of range for the inevitable retaliation.
What does surprise him, is that sometimes, Harper isn't a light sleeper. Sometimes, he'll sink into a sleep so deep that it seems that nothing will wake him up. These deep sleeps are often the result of the engineer's habit of pushing himself to exhaustion, or prolonged periods of wakefulness. Less often, they are the result of overindulgence in alchohol or other depressants. Tickling, prodding, threatening to pour icewater on him, will not awaken him, the emphasis being on the word awaken because while it's impossible to awaken him, getting a reaction out of him is another matter entirely.
Specifically, two reactions.
The first reaction was to strike out at whatever it was that had disturbed him. Strike out, and apparently try to murder it. This was not as amusing as one might think. Harper was wiry and strong. Attempting to hold him still would only make things worse. Much worse. More than once Tyr has been driven from the bed by hard fists and feet kicking and flailing with bruising force. Harper deaf to reason, still sleeping face twisted into something feral and savage.
Embarrassing, the first time this occured. The blows struck had left bruises that caused Tyr to limp and impeded movement for several days. Dylan was easily put off with tales of sparring, and a very faint smirk. After the second time however, Beka's eyes had narrowed angrily. Later, she'd cornered him, demanded explanations, cut his evasions to shreds. Told him more than he was comfortable hearing, and what he already knew, about Harper's life before he'd escaped Earth. Furious, low voiced threats and defenses had been exchanged, and worse, unforgivable things might have been said, if Harper hadn't appeared, as if teleported (or perhaps summoned by the ship's AI) and by making light of the situation and the cause of the argument, defused it.
The second reaction was far more preferable, and the one he preferred to invoke, if at all possible.
Harper lay in an almost defensive curl on Tyr's bed, head tucked down, arms curled tight to his chest, body radiating tension, though he was very deeply asleep, his breaths slow and even. The Andromeda had gone to the rescue of a colony being attacked by raiders, a raid that turned out to be part of a larger trap intended to target the ship. Harper had spent the past forty-eight hours hunting down worms in the ship's AI, interspersed by frantic physical repairs of the ship itself. In that time, he'd had about three hours of sleep. Once the battle was over, Harper had simply collapsed where he'd been standing on the bridge.
No one had said a word as Tyr scooped Harper up off the deck and carried him to his bedroom. Harper was barely awake enough to allow him to do little more than remove his shoes, and loosen his clothes. Mumbled protests of "m'fine" and "g'way" were ignored. Once these tasks were completed, Tyr retreated to a nearby chair to watch as Harper immediately curled into a ball and slept.
Tyr waited. A half hour, a full hour, an hour and a half. Harper muttered and twitched in his sleep, words slurring from Common to some Earth-based patois. Names, some of them, fragments of phrases, words. Fear, something close to happiness, threat, anger, emotions slipping one into the other. Memories. Tyr kept a list of the names, in a place Harper wouldn't easily find.
Another hour and a half, and Harper's twitchings and mutterings faded, though he hadn't yet relaxed out of his tight curl. Tyr rose quietly to his feet, but not too quietly. It was important at this stage to not set off any subconscious alarms. He stripped, and eased into the bed, fitting himself to the curves of Harper's body. Harper relaxed against him, muttering something about the "gangrene hills of Earth."
Tyr nuzzled the back of Harper's neck, and ran his hand down the engineer's side, skipping over the utility belt. Harper shifted a bit, moved closer, head turning blindly as if he were searching forsomething. Tyr reached lower, cupped a hand over the front of Harper's pants, rubbed. Tyr kissed warm skin, nuzzled just behind the ear. Harper arched his neck, and rolled his hips backward. Sleepy murmur.
Tyr kept up the slow, careful stroking and kissing, keeping a careful eye on Harper's sleepwalker movements. Not too fast, and not to slow, that was the key. Eventually, with a feral near-growl, Harper twisted around like an eel or a ferret, pounced. Tyr rolled onto his back letting the smaller man cover him.
Tyr removed the engineer's utility belt and pulled the pants down. Harper rubbed his entire body against Tyr's, kissed him and clung, the expression on his sleeping face feral, predatory. There was an intensity there that Harper almost never fully showed when he was awake. Only the briefest flickers, and only for a few moments, flickers that hinted at a greater ferocity hidden somewhere so deep that it could only emerge under stress, or if coaxed out like this.
Harper's mouth was everywhere, kissing and nipping, often in places that shouldn't have been arrousing, but were. Soft noises like growls or half formed words. Tyr teased and caressed the engineer twisting and writhing on top of him. Groaned as Harper's cock rubbed against his, as he met Harper's thrusts with his own. Harper came with growl, spurting over Tyr's belly, hips still moving in slow motion, the wiry strength in his arms slipping away into bonelessness, cheek pressed to Tyr's chest.Tyr shifted himself into a more comfortable sleeping position, taking care not to disturb Harper further, and let the engineer's heartbeat lull him to sleep.