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Tom received the comm way earlier in the morning than he preferred to be up. Sunlight was just barely seeping through the shades as Tom rolled himself regretfully out of bed to answer it. He didn't bother checking who it was from, his eyes barely wanted to open in the first place, and sat down at his console with a low moan, rubbing gunk out of his eyes.
He slapped a button on his console to answer the call. "Paris here," he croaked.
"Hey, sorry, I guess it's still pretty early in France," a familiar voice said from the view screen. Tom blinked a few times until his head cleared and the image of Harry on his screen came into focus. His voice held just the right hint of anxiety to push the sleepiness to the back of Tom's mind. "I'll call you back later."
"Nah, you caught me right before my alarm was supposed to go off." He checked the time and discovered that it was 5:15. Only two hours after he'd fallen asleep. "I've always been a slow waker. So what's up? Why's the great Harry Kim bugging little old me?'
Harry smiled at that but there was still something tight in his expression and he ran a nervous hand through his hair. "It's... not a big deal really."
"I'm sure it isn't," Tom said easily. He took a second to grab a pad from his desk and order a shuttle to San Francisco, leaving as soon as possible.
"It's just that... Libby and I kind of broke up."
Tom paused in the middle of placing the order, whistled, and hit confirm. "Oh yeah, that's pretty damn insignificant. It's just the woman you've been fantasizing about for seven years. Why would that bother you?"
"I'm... fine." Harry said unconvincingly. He wasn't looking at the view screen and his hair was becoming quite a mess from where he was still nervously ruffling it. "It just caught me off guard."
Tom's shuttle would be arriving in fifteen minutes and he wasn't dressed yet. "Harry, could you hold that thought for a sec?" He sat up, grabbing a shirt from the chair where he'd tossed it earlier.
"Oh yeah, sure." There was the smallest hint of disappointment in his voice. "I know this is a bad time."
"I'll talk to you later." Tom said, pulling the shirt on. "Don't go to bed on me, okay Lieutenant?"
A tiny smile crossed Harry's face at the rank. "Yeah, yeah."
Despite the request, when Harry answered the door to his San Francisco apartment less than an hour later, he was wearing a pair of button up pajamas and had a pillow imprint on his cheek. His eyes widened when he recognized Tom but as soon as he opened his mouth Tom cut in.
"Yeah, Harry, I know. 'You didn't need to come, I'm totally fine with losing the love of my life.' Blah blah blah, well too bad I'm already here. Now, I know you've already gone through debriefing and the Captain ordered all of us to take time off so you and I are gonna get irresponsibly drunk tonight and forget all of your angst. Got it?"
After a small pause Harry said, "I've been to a lot of parties in the past couple days."
"Sure, with your parents, our boss, and the media. I know for a fact you'd never get drunk in front of Tuvok."
To his surprise, Harry didn't try to argue with him any further. He just sighed quietly with a strangely fond smile on his lips and said, "I'm really glad you're here."
Tom's heart did a treacherous leap in his chest at the vulnerability on his friend's face but he'd gotten used to not letting things like that show over the years. He walked around Harry into his apartment. "Harry, my good man, you really need a drink."
"Romulan ale is illegal," Harry said, eyeing the bottle of blue alcohol that Tom had put down on the table.
Tom set two glasses down beside it. "Unfortunately, it isn't any more. One of the many very weird things we missed out on in the Delta Quadrant. Alliances are nice and all but now the stash I've had since before I got arrested is worth a lot less."
"And how'd you get your hands on it before it became legal?"
"Long story."
"Oh come on."
"Sorry, it's a Marquis secret. But the important part is that it's been in storage for the last seven years, and you and I are gonna figure out if Romulan ale goes bad or gets better with age." He poured them both shots, his own a little more generous than Harry's, and then pushed the glass into the other man's hand. "Bottoms up, Lieutenant."
Another brief smile—God, Tom was weak. "You know I'm a lightweight," Harry said warily. All the same he clinked his glass against Tom's cooperatively and took a tentative sip. Tom paused with his glass just touching his lips to watch as Harry's eyes widened and he covered his mouth with a hand.
"That's about what I was expecting." Tom threw back his own drink, bracing for the burning sting and found it somewhat subdued, compared to normal. "It did get a little smoother. I'll be damned!"
Next to him, Harry squeezed his eyes shut and then swallowed with a small shudder. "Are you serious? This is better?!"
"It's a barely legal drink, brewed by the oldest enemies of the Federation. Of course it has a kick. Were you expecting Chardonnay?"
"I was expecting you not to fly over from France in the middle of the night and try to poison me!"
Tom didn't try to hold back his grin. "Underestimating me is on you, buddy. Now finish your drink."
Less than a year after they'd be stranded in the Delta Quadrant, Harry'd figured him out pretty well, accusing him of intentionally seeking out doomed relationships and people who were unavailable to him.
Given that this was in the middle of his ill-advised crush on Kes he hadn't really been able to deny that.
When his often shifting interests had moved from her to a certain straight-laced, woefully monogamous, best friend of his he hadn't really been surprised. He'd been a little intense about Harry since they'd met; craved his friendship and his lack of judgement, wanted to be around him as much as humanly possible. It made sense given his pattern. It was the relationship he could least handle losing, the person he was closest to, and a man who was insanely attached to a girl 70,000 light-years away. Of course he'd fall for that.
"You know, at some point you'll have been gone for longer than you've been together," Tom had said, one day when been caught off guard by his wanting. He'd expected Harry to react with annoyance but instead he'd just sighed, sinking further into his couch.
"It's already been longer." Harry had looked miserable at the confession.
"It wouldn't be unreasonable for her to move on after three years," Tom had pressed. He liked to think he'd gotten a bit more sensitive since then. "You don't deserve to be alone for the long haul," he'd said, scooting closer on the couch.
"No, you're right, she's probably moved on." Harry tipped his head back against the cushion, just a few centimetres from where Tom's arm laid, splayed across the back of the couch.
"But..." Harry continued, and Tom heard the proverbial door swing shut. "I can't give up on her. I wouldn't feel right cheating on her, even on the off chance that she's waiting for me."
"Right." Tom pulled his arm back and put both hands between his knees. "Right, totally. Of course you wouldn't."
And that had been that. Tom had compartmentalized like he'd never compartmentalized before and shoved anything that didn't scream platonic friendship down deep enough to ignore. He'd gone after girls, played stupid holodeck games with Harry, hung out in his room while he played his clarinet and later his saxophone or finished duty reports. All with a tiny hope in the back of his mind that someday Harry would change his mind and maybe Tom would have a chance. Seventy years was a long time after all, and apparently, even though he was normally so fickle with his feelings, the way he thought about Harry never seemed to change.
"She didn't tell me at first," Harry said, staring down at his empty glass. He was slouched down on the couch, mouth set in a pout he couldn't seem to help. "I think she wanted to welcome me home. Didn't want me coming back and finding out she hadn't waited. But as soon as I kissed her I could tell something was up."
"Damn," Tom said.
"She saved it for later that night. When we were alone. Guess it would've been awkward to break up with me in front of my parents. Maybe she would've waited even longer to bring it up if I hadn't uh..."
"Tried to get nasty with your long lost love?" Tom asked, propping up his chin. His entire body was tilted towards Harry, one of his knees brushing his thigh. Actual Romulan ale was a good bit stronger than he remembered.
Harry turned a little pink. "Uh. Yes. That. Then she told me she was seeing someone else now but she still cared for me and was really happy that I was back." He sighed heavily. "She looked like she felt really guilty about it so I just tried to play the entire thing cool like maybe my feelings for her had faded too but I don't think I sold it very well."
"I'm sorry man, I really am." Tom was gratified to find that he genuinely did feel bad for him. He didn't like the thought of Harry's girlfriend pitying him, even if a small part of him (which he disapproved of) was relieved that the two of them were finally broken up. He at least felt bad for feeling good about that.
"No, you were right all along. I shouldn't have bothered waiting all this time. I'm an idiot."
"As much as I enjoy you conceding to my wisdom I didn't really know that she'd move on. I was just being pessimist. It was good of you to wait. Decent."
"Doesn't feel so decent now." Harry's glass was hanging limp so Tom plucked it from his lap, refilled it, and then gently placed it back in his hands while Harry talked. "Feels silly and misguided. She came by right before I called to return a bunch of stuff that she'd hung onto. Some sheet music, holo albums, bunch of my clothes." He pressed his glass to his face and shut his eyes. "Her new boyfriend helped her bring it all over."
"Shit, she didn't bring him over?"
"She did." A solemn, if very drunken nod. "You know what the worst part is? He was a friend of mine. Danny Byrd. We went to the academy together."
"What an absolute bastard."
Harry frowned. "He used to be my best friend."
"Well obviously he was a pretty shitty best friend."
"I don't know, he did think I was dead."
"So? That was your girlfriend!"
"Yeah, my girlfriend. Not my wife or anything. She wasn't my widow."
"It's still messed up," Tom insisted. "I wouldn't date someone you dated because I'm a good best friend."
"You're an okay best friend."
"I'm an amazing best friend. Wait, is this the same Danny Bryd that B'Ellana yelled about that one time we got into Chakotay's stash?"
"The one who used to call her Miss Turtlehead? The very same."
"Huh," Tom said thoughtfully. "Small planet. Want me to, I don't know, graffiti his house? Break in and kill all of his plants? Reek a little psychological warfare on both of them?"
"No way, they don't deserve that!"
"Okay, not Libby, just him."
"Still."
"I'd be doing it for B'Ellana."
Harry frowned. "Okay, maybe."
"Done." He elbowed Harry in the side. "Cheer up, Harry. I bet you're much hotter than him." Down boy, suggested Tom's brain.
Luckily Harry seemed to take the comment in stride. "Not really. He's pretty good-looking." He shook his head and took a long sip of his drink, only wincing a little. "I don't wanna talk about them anymore."
"Her hair always smelled like coconut," Harry said wistfully.
They'd both relocated to the floor at some point; Harry reclined against the couch and Tom facing him with the table digging into his back. Their knees were brushing this way but Harry didn't seem to notice. He'd been talking about random Libby facts for over an hour. "What was with that? You'd think she'd smell all like, paint-y because she's always painting but no. Coconuts."
"It's hairspray." Tom's leg swung back and forth on its own, colliding with Harry's on the back swing. "Or conditioner, or something. Girls have all kinds of products, she wasn't some tropical beach fairy."
Harry shrugged sloppily. "She sure smelled like one. Every time the wind blew." He inhaled deeply through his nose like he was trying to catch her scent. "Bam, coconuts."
"Again, there's nothing magical about that."
Another sigh; he was really going through those. "I know."
Harry took another sip of his drink and then, realizing it was empty, slid the glass across the floor to him.
"Ah, finished with your drink already, garcon?" Tom asked in his worst French accent. "I do not think you stopped to appreciate the flavor."
"Hell no I didn't," Harry said. The words were a bit slurred and the liquor had left him loose-limbed.
"A shame." Tom said, making a show of decanting the ale from a vaguely impressive height. He only spilled a little. "This swill is wasted on you."
"Clearly." Harry scooted forward to take the glass this time and his fingers wrapped around Tom's with a sloppy tenderness that nearly made Tom upend the glass. His hands weren't penal-colony rough but it was clear that he worked with them frequently. A part of him had assumed they'd be soft, matching up to the image he still had of Harry as a fresh-faced Academy kid.
Harry didn't sit back against the couch after taking the glass but sat at the table facing away from him, placing his drink there after a small sip. It was no longer actively making him wince but a small displeased look still crossed his face.
"I was a pretty good boyfriend while it lasted," Harry mumbled. "At least I think I was. Did I ever tell you that we were engaged in an alternate reality I went to?"
He'd mentioned it more than once. "You were engaged?"
"Uh-huh." Harry nodded heavily. "Eight more months together and we would've been in marriage mode. I'm such an idiot."
"Won't argue with you there."
Harry shoved his shoulder. When he settled back down he was leaning into Tom. Tom couldn't see his face like this but he could feel the heat radiating off his body. He took another long sip.
"I'm sure you'll get to be somebody's cheesy, sap of a boyfriend again one of these days."
Harry leaned his head onto Tom's and Tom stayed absolutely still, hoping not to scare him off by moving too much. He could feel Harry breathing faintly.
"I've got an awful lot of baggage now," Harry said softly. "Damaged goods doesn't make for the best first dates."
Tom bit the inside of his cheek, forcing down the first few things he wanted to say. The silence was perhaps too long before he said, "Harry, you're smart, heroic, and downright adorable. You're an absolute catch and anyone would be lucky to date you."
Harry lifted his head so suddenly that Tom looked down at him, wondering if maybe he'd said too much. From the strange, shining look in Harry's eyes the words hadn't been poorly received.
"Do you mean that?" Harry asked quietly.
"I wouldn't have said it if I didn't mean it. You've proven yourself a hundred times over when we were on Voyager. You're one of the most amazing people I know and—"
Harry leaned forward and before Tom could blink the man was in his space and pressing his mouth to Tom's. It was too abrupt for Tom to react, to catch more than the slightly awkward clack of teeth and the feeling of someone else's breath on his face, before Harry was pulling back. Though he wasn't sure he was drunk enough for it, the room was spinning.
"Sorry," Harry mumbled, pulling back carefully. He laughed quietly. "Oh boy, Romulan ale, huh?"
Tom was frozen, staring at Harry for several moments. He blinked when he finally processed the words. "It's uh, potent stuff. You really are a lightweight, Lieutenant."
It happened again. That tiny smile like he'd completely forgotten what his rank was until Tom mentioned it. He didn't seem sober enough to straighten his expression out so the smile remained there, brightening his features.
"Fuck," Tom said, unable to look away from his smile. A confused look crossed Harry's face but then Tom was kissing him and he had no idea what kind of expression he was making. But he was kissing Tom back, eager but kinda sloppy, so Tom couldn't really bring himself to care.
"Mm, we should," he mumbled against Harry's lips, "probably slow down a little."
"That's a dumb thing to say after kissing me," Harry said, wrapping an arm around Tom's back. He tugged Tom's shirt out of the back of his pants and slid a hand under it.
"Easy there, sailor," Tom said, not quite able to remove himself from the warmth of Harry's arms, "you're pretty drunk. And upset."
"I disagree." Harry's hand found the back of his head and tried to pull him into another kiss but Tom, this time, managed to stay firm.
Though he'd asked for it, disappointment rolled though him when Harry started to pull away.
"I, uh, sorry. It's not like I don't want to be doing this—"
"I know that, Tom, I'm not an idiot."
"Okay, a little snippy tonight, but we've both been drinking so I won't take it personally." He reached out to put his hands on Harry's shoulders but thought second of it, keeping his hands to himself. "We're both drunk and you're still mourning your relationship with Libby."
Harry groaned. "I don't think I like having you as my voice of reason."
"I can be responsible."
Harry rolled his eyes. "I'm going to bed." He pointed a finger in Tom's face. "Not because I'm drunk and you're right. Because it's like 0400 and I'm not going to ruin my sleep schedule anymore than we already have."
"Have I kept you up past your bedtime?" he asked with a smile.
"Shut up." Harry placed a hand on his shoulder as he pushed himself to his feet.
Tom got up when Harry started to stumble and offered his shoulder. "You never did like missing out on the full eight hours."
"People aren't supposed to function on less," Harry mumbled, letting Tom take some of his weight.
"Of course they aren't, buddy," Tom said soothingly, steering him towards his bed.
"Don't patronize me. We're the same rank now."
"Don't I know it."
With that he dumped Harry onto his bed and gave him a shove to roll him away from the edge. "I'm not a kid," Harry mumbled into his pillow, "wasn't even a kid when we met. I can make my own decisions."
"I know Harry." He pulled Harry's blanket out from under him and draped it over him. "You're a big manly lieutenant cursed with a handsome baby face."
"Damn straight."
Tom was ready to head back to the couch to fall asleep but a hand grabbed him by the seat of his pants when he tried to leave.
"Are you grabbing my ass, Mr. Kim?"
"Mmm." Harry tugged at him again, eyes shut.
"You sure about that?"
Harry tugged.
"Alright, you win." He pulled Harry's hand off and then crawled into the bed beside him. "Happy?"
Harry made a noise of approval, clearly falling asleep fast. He scooted towards Tom a little, not enough that they were touching but enough that Tom could feel the warmth of his body, and then exhaled softly, muscles relaxing.
"Big, manly, Lieutenant Kim," Tom said to himself, watching the steady rise and fall of Harry's chest as he slept, the gentle part of the lips he'd kissed only minutes earlier, the peacefulness of his demeanor. Sometimes he got the feeling that Harry could have a head full of grey and a face covered in wrinkles and he'd still be as bright-eyed and optimistic as he'd been when they'd met on DS9.
Tom didn't manage to sleep for long. Somewhere around six in the morning the back of Harry's head caught him in the chin and jolted him out of his light sleep.
"Fuck," Tom said, as soon as he opened his dry eyes, both at his nausea and at the arm he'd wrapped around Harry's side in his sleep. He was way too warm under the blankets but Harry was also horribly comfortable to snuggle with. "Hold...hold tight for a second."
With some reluctance he let go of Harry and climbed out of bed, finding his jacket where he'd tossed it and digging around in his pockets. He'd had enough nights of heavy drinking to know when to pack a hypo with him, instead of trying to rough it through a hangover. He gave himself a quick shot before heading over to Harry and doing the same for him, plopping back down on the bed beside him afterwards.
"You're welcome." Tom could already feel his hangover subsiding, but he wasn't sure he'd be able to fall asleep next to Harry when he wasn't drunk off his ass. A very large part of him wanted to run back to France and pretend nothing had happened, hope that Harry would follow his lead and just not mention them making out.
In a normal situation he'd have gone straight to Harry to figure out what to do. He might not have taken his advice but talking things through with someone else always helped and just being around Harry tended to cheer him up.
"You're not being very helpful right now," Tom said.
Harry slept on, uselessly.
His first choice after Harry would've actually been Chakotay, if he hadn't known that the man was trekking through Arizona as far away from technology as possible. His second choice however happened to be back on Earth for a couple of days on Starfleet duty, so one transporter ride brought him to his front door.
"Mr. Paris," Tuvok said when he answered his door, unfortunately not in any embarrassing pajamas despite the early hour. "I was not expecting you."
"Hiyah, Tuvok," Tom said, arms against both doorframes. "Would you say we're friends?"
"I would not."
"Good." Tom barreled inside. "Because I was hoping—wait, did you say no?"
"I did." He tilted his head slightly. "Are you drunk, Lieutenant?"
"Uh, a little?" Tom scratched his face. "If we aren't friends, what did seven years in the Delta Quadrant earn us?"
"Colleagues."
Tom snorted. "Colleagues my ass, we're chums."
"I am your superior officer."
"Amiable acquaintances."
Tuvok seemed to stew that over before conceding with a tiny nod, possibly because he saw the wisdom in not arguing with a drunk man. "That is an acceptable summary of our working relationship."
"Thank god, because I need to talk to someone or my head is gonna pop off. You got a minute for an old amicable acquaintance?"
There was a brief pause during which a subtle pained expression crossed his face. He exhaled softly. "I do not need to be at Starfleet Headquarters until 0800." He looked like he was trying to resist rolling his eyes. "Please sit down."
"Normally I'd go to Harry with this kind of stuff," Tom said, seated in what he assumed was Tuvok's not very comfortable or inviting living room, "but this time he's the man of the hour so I can't exactly go spilling my guts to him, you know?"
"I do not." Tuvok folded himself into the chair across from him. "What is it about Mr. Kim that you wish to discuss?"
"Uh, well, the fact that I'm in love with him. Probably have been for years."
Tuvok's face remained completely impassive at the admission. He waited silently for Tom to continue.
"Damn, was it obvious or are you just too Vulcan to be surprised by this sort of thing?"
"The latter," Tuvok said, sounding faintly pleased. "I was not aware that you harbored romantic feelings for Lieutenant Kim. However I don't think you should use me as a barometer for your human romantic relationships."
"Not at all Tuvok, you're doing great. I need someone kinda clueless so my brain can do its thing." He thought Tuvok looked a little offended at that. "Look, the thing is, he and his girlfriend just broke up so for the first time since I've known him he's single. Properly, no-guilt attached single, and I might be freaking out a little."
"Why? Is this not ideal? If you wish to pursue a romantic relationship, now seems the time to act."
"Not quite. Do you know what a 'rebound period' is?"
"I do not. As you've said I'm 'clueless' when it comes to human romantic practices."
"Humans tend to take the end of long term relationships kinda rough. We may not always mate for life but it sure as hell sucks to end a relationship that you've been with for a while. During a rebound humans might try to forget their previous relationships by throwing themselves into new ones. Short-term ones, ones focused on sex, you can get the idea. It might a while before this person is open again to another relationship."
"I see. So you fear that if you start a relationship with Mr. Kim now he will treat it frivolously."
"Exactly."
"And you cannot simply...make your desire to have a more serious relationship with him clear?"
"I don't wanna scare him off."
"Then I suggest you wait the allotted time before you try to pursue a relationship with him."
"Good idea. Simple enough. It's just that we kissed a few hours ago."
"Of course you did. You were both drinking, I assume?"
"Big time."
"Then he's no doubt aware that you have romantic feelings for him."
"Unfortunately." He sprawled across Tuvok's couch. "I don't suppose you could use one of your Vulcan brain things and make him forget that we kissed in the first place?"
"I absolutely will not," Tuvok said flatly.
Tom raised an eyebrow. "But you totally could."
"I will not."
"It'd get me out of this mess."
"No."
"Alright, alright, you win. No solving all of my problems for me."
"It seems to me that your only course of action is to make your intentions clear."
"I know that," Tom grunted, "what the hell else am I going to do?"
"Indeed," said Tuvok tersely. "Then there was no reason for you to come here and rant at me."
"Don't be like that, Tuvok. I'm here for the company, not the reasonable advice."
This time Tuvok did roll his eyes. Tom made a mental note to tell Harry about it later, provided he worked up the nerve to go back to his apartment.
Ever the gracious host, Tuvok didn't immediately kick him out after offering his advice. He replicated Tom a coffee and waited for him to finish it before firmly but politely suggesting that he get back to Harry before he woke up.
"I get it, Commander." Tom got to his feet. "I'll get out of your hair."
"Thank you." Tuvok seemed to consider his words for a moment. "You are free to again come again, provided you alert me ahead of time and are slightly more sober."
Tom laughed. "Aw, did you miss me Tuvok?"
"No," Tuvok said quickly. "However, even if I am no longer Chief of Security aboard Voyager it is not unusual for me to be invested in the welfare of those who were my charges."
"Oh, so you were worried about me! Even better!"
"Do not tempt me to rescind my invitation."
"Fine, I'm going." Tom straightened out his jacket and rubbed his eyes. He'd sobered up a good deal since he first arrived. "Mind if I ask you something, Tuvok?"
"You might have more luck asking my dining room table your question, as I am clueless and you're more interested in hearing yourself speak."
"Come on, Tuvok, I mean it."
"Very well. Ask your question."
"Do you think Harry and I'd make a good couple?"
Tuvok sighed. "The criteria your people use when picking a mate is beyond me," he said. At Tom's dejected expression he continued. "However you have always gotten along well and tolerate each other much more than I tolerate either of you. I see no reason for your natural chemistry not to translate well in a romantic relationship."
Tom felt some of his remaining tension ease. "That's some high praise."
"It's merely the truth. Now, I believe you were leaving?"
"Ha, you take care as well, buddy. Hold up." Tom raised a hand in an attempted Vulcan salute and grimaced as his fingers refused to separate. "Wait." He spread his fingers with his other hand. "Ah, there we go! Live long and prosper."
Tuvok returned the salute easily. "Live long and prosper. Good luck in your romantic endeavor."
Harry was still asleep when he got back, sprawled out on his stomach over the space they'd both occupied. He started to stir as Tom took a seat down by his head. He laid there for a few seconds before blinking and looking up at him.
"Lieutenant Kim," Tom said.
And there it was, a smile. They were off to a great start. "Lieutenant Paris." He stretched leisurely. "Am I crazy or does this feel nothing like a Romulan ale hangover?"
"Really?" Tom asked.
Harry glanced him suspiciously. "Why aren't I hungover?"
"I might've hit you with a hypo when you fell asleep."
"A hypo?"
"You know, something to keep you hydrated and some anti-nausea stuff. No biggie."
A pair of soft brown eyes watched him curiously. No matter how much time passed he hadn't lost that puppy-dog look.
Tom crossed his arms over his chest. "Okay, what?"
"Nothing. That was just really sweet of you."
"I'm a thoughtful guy."
"Sure," Harry said skeptically. "Did you run away earlier?"
"No."
"No?"
"Maybe. What of it? I'm flighty."
"I thought maybe you ran off back to France because we kissed a couple times."
"What?" Tom's voice went high pitched. "Me? Running away from a kiss? With my best friend? You've got to be kidding."
"You look like you're gonna make a run for it right now."
"Oh please." Tom's heart was racing. He cleared his throat and managed to get his voice back to a normal register. "I already knew you were a lightweight so what's there to be upset about?"
"I was kinda hoping for something better after kissing you than 'I'm not actively upset'." Harry propped himself up on his elbow. "Okay, what? Are you about to transport out of here?"
"Listen, Harry, buddy, friend." Tom winced at the flat stare he received and started again. "You only just got out of a relationship that you've sort of been in for the better part of a decade. I don't—“
"Tom Paris," Harry said, raising his voice. "You kissed me too."
Tom gestured at himself. "That's because I'm a maverick, ex-con with a habit of making bad decisions."
"Oh please! You've barely been late for a duty shift in five years! You're hardly a bad boy anymore."
"I am so a bad boy."
"Are not."
"Are too. And I'd been drinking—" Tom continued.
"Have you been drunk for the last seven years too? Because that's how long you've been hitting on me!"
Tom looked at him incredulously voice caught in his throat. "I—what?! I have not!"
"We were literally always on shifts together until I basically begged you to let me take night shifts so I could be in charge of Voyager for a few hours."
"Chakotay is the one in charge of duty roosters, blame him!"
"And we spent basically every free second together too. You spent more time on the holodeck with me than you did with any girl because you're a clingy man-child—"
"Hey!"
"—who imprinted on me after we had like one conversation!"
"That is a gross exaggeration."
"It isn't. You declared us best friends right after we met."
Tom winced slightly. "That might have been pre-mature." If true. He hadn't had a lot of friends before Voyager and had trouble making them at the start of their mission.
"You were constantly trying to get me to forget Libby."
"So I'd have someone to be my wingman! And besides, I gave up eventually."
"Yeah, because I wouldn't stop pushing you away and using Libby as an excuse."
"I wasn't trying to—" Tom paused. "Wait, an excuse?"
Harry sat up the rest of the way and leaned forward suddenly. Tom could probably have pulled away but he didn't have the willpower for that so Harry was able to press a soft kiss to his slacked mouth. Whatever protest Tom was planning died in his throat.
"An excuse," Harry said, pulling away. "Because I was scared. If things didn't work out seventy years would be a long time to be stuck with an awkward ex and no best friend."
Tom stared at him numbly. "An excuse?" he croaked.
Harry placed a gentle hand on his face and drew him forward into a deeper kiss: much more coordinated than the messy press of teeth and tongue from the previous night and so very welcome.
"You heard me. I knew this break-up was coming, Tom. I've been expecting it for years. Obviously it still hurt but not nearly as much as it would've a few years ago."
"An...excuse?" Tom said quietly.
Harry pinched his arm. "Okay, would you shut up? I'm scared and I like you. Got it?"
"Ow," Tom said, not really noticing the pain in his arm. He could feel his face stretching into an uncomfortably wide grin but could do nothing to stop it. "You like me."
"Don't get a big head about it."
"No, no, no. I definitely will," Tom said, pulling Harry into another kiss.
"Where'd you run off to anyway?" Harry asked a little later. He'd replicated a Vulcan moca for himself and another coffee and they were sitting against Harry's headboard. He'd said something earlier about finally unpacking all the stuff he'd brought from Libby and his parents' place and then the two of them had gone right back to bed. Tom kind of liked seeing Harry's place cluttered; he'd always kept such tidy quarters.
"Nowhere special," Tom said nonchalantly. "Just went to consult Tuvok."
"Please tell me you're joking."
"Nope, I panicked and went to him for advice. Totally got him to roll his eyes too. That's Paris-3 and Kim-2 if you're keeping score."
"You're still nowhere near beating Neelix's record. What did Tuvok say?"
"Oh he wished us luck and invited us over for dinner."
Harry's head whipped around. "He what?"
"Invited us over," Tom said with a straight face. "In fact he said we should have a double date with him and his wife."
"What the hell?"
"He's been singing our praises to his son since he got back and apparently the guy wants to name his next child after me, if you can believe it. That'll really be something. Tom of Vulcan, son of Tuvok."
"That's....You're messing with me," Harry said, head thumping against the wall behind him.
"I'm messing with you," Tom admitted, leaning against Harry's shoulder, "we're going to have so much fun together."
With a mildly indignant huff, Harry laced their fingers together. "We always do."