No Regrets - Part 30
Please see part 1 for disclaimer, codes, summary, etc.
I watch Tom as he struggles for composure once more and decide
that no matter how much I want him to love me I need to know
I dread saying it, but I have to. "I thought you had feelings
He stiffens and turns his face away. "I was wrong. I thought I
did, but I didn't. I've been a total idiot where he's
"I confused my feelings, mistook what happened in that lift.
Made it into a lot more than it really was."
"You went to see him, didn't you? When you were here before, you
said something about making a mistake, accusing Chakotay of all
sorts of stuff. Tell me about it."
He finally does and I'm a little shocked at the accusations they
made to each other. He hesitates and I have to practically
force him to tell me the rest. They almost had sex, but
Chakotay stopped it.
I can feel myself getting worked up at the thought. And what
sort of a fool is Chakotay? I would never reject Tom like that.
Never hurt him like that.
The man's a complete idiot. He refused to believe that Tom was
in love with him. Rejected him emotionally as well as
Why he did it, I don't understand. I'm sure he's in love with
Tom too. He doesn't deserve him, however. Tom's theory as to
why he thought he was in love with Chakotay makes sense and I'm
just glad that he's seen the truth.
"Just because you've realized you're not in love with Chakotay
doesn't mean you have to be in love with me, Tom," I feel I have
to point out.
"I know that, Har, but I want to be. I want the type of
relationship we could have together. I want it more than
"You do?" I'm breathless again. Are my dreams going to come
true after all? Is it possible?
"Harry? You said... you said, you had a lot more experience
with guys than girls. I want you to show me."
"What?" I squeak.
"Show me some of this experience you have. Make love to me."
Spots dance before my eyes and my heart pounds furiously in my
chest. I can't believe this is happening. All of my dreams,
all of my fantasies, everything I've always wanted can now come
true. He wants me to make love to him. I almost whimper at the
"I need this, Harry," he whispers. "Please, love me."
I reach up, stroking his face with the tips of my fingers and he
turns towards my hand and starts to kiss and nibble at my palm.
I'm so excited I start to tremble.
Tom's eyes travel over my body, slow and sensuous, causing small
sparks of excitement to ignite in the pit of my stomach. His
eyes travel to my groin and linger on my penis as it swells once
more in response to the intensity of his gaze.
"Show me what you want me to do, Harry," he whispers hoarsely.
Something makes me hesitate still. "Are you sure, Tom?"
Tom stands up before me, his eyes locked onto mine, and slowly
slides his swimming trunks down to the floor. "Yes, Harry," he
says huskily. "I'm very, very sure."
With a gulp, I reach out and pull him back onto the bed, laying
him down across the sheets. He looks up at me as I perch above
him, his eyes wide and trusting, and I'm lost. All my doubts
I want so much, where do I start? I kiss him passionately...
deliriously, all my pent up desires unleashed. He responds
hungrily, moaning into my mouth.
"I want to show you everything, teach you everything," I gasp
out, longing to kiss him all over, longing for him to kiss me in
the same way. I yearn to suck and nibble at his body, and have
him do the same to me. I want to take him and have him take me.
I desire everything and finally... finally, I shall have it.
What have I done? What the fuck have I done? Weren't things
bad enough? Why the hell did I do that? What the hell was I
trying to do?
I hadn't been thinking straight and now what? I know for an
absolute fact that I'm not in love with Harry now. My lip
trembles at the thought. What am I going to do? Start bawling
again? It's all I seem to be able to do tonight.
Poor, poor, Harry. I'd wanted to be in love with him. Wanted
it desperately. I'd even fooled myself into believing it for a
little while. But just as you can't fall out of love with
somebody just because you want to, you can't fall *in* love with
I'd wanted someone to love me, and want me, and care about me,
and I'd taken advantage of the fact that Harry did. And I'm so
sorry now. *So* sorry! He doesn't deserve this.
How can I tell him the truth? How can I tell him that I don't
love him? It'll destroy him. How can I do that to him?
He's strangely silent as he lies beside me, eyes staring up at
the ceiling, the same as me. He's probably thinking about how
wonderful life's going to be from now on. And I'm going to have
to ruin his dreams.
I cringe and close my eyes. What do I say? How do I say it?
The silence between us stretches and I start to feel very
uncomfortable. I should get up and go to the bathroom. Clean
up a bit. I'm sweaty ,and sticky, and covered in semen. But I
don't want to be the one to make the first move. I don't want
to be the one who has to speak first.
I open my eyes and turn my head, so that I'm looking directly at
him. Maybe that will make him turn towards me and he'll say
But he doesn't. He continues to stare up at the ceiling, a
slight frown on his forehead. The frown makes me wonder. Maybe
he isn't thinking about how wonderful life's going to be, after
I stare up at the same spot he is and find myself questioning
what just happened between us. Maybe Harry isn't as thrilled
either. The sex had been... different. Just as I'd expected,
of course. I knew it would be different with a guy.
It'd been exciting... well, to tell the truth, the thought of it
had been more exciting than the actual deed, really. By the
time I'd figured out I was more turned on by the thought of what
we were doing than what we were actually doing, I'd been ready
to come. So it hadn't mattered anyway.
It just hadn't been as... fulfilling, as I'd thought it would
be. It felt like something was missing. And that's why I know
I don't really love Harry. After the first flush of excitement
Harry's kisses had felt... strange, a little weird even. Almost
as if... and this is going to sound crazy because I don't have a
brother, so I wouldn't know what it's like to kiss one anyway,
but... that's what it felt like. I was making out with my
His promise of showing and teaching me everything made me feel
panicky. I knew, with absolute certainty, that I didn't want
Harry anywhere near my ass. And I didn't want to go anywhere
near his, either.
Thankfully, I hadn't had to worry about that. Harry had been
intent on bringing me off with his hands and mouth and had been
more than happy when I reciprocated.
Harry sighs deeply and rolls over to face me. I swallow
nervously. If he tells me how wonderful it was and how much he
loves me, I'm going to burst into tears. I just know I am.
I lie on my back, staring up at the ceiling, wondering just what
*exactly* I'm going to say to Tom.
Our mating, starting out so frantic and desperate, had been...
fairly ordinary, actually. I know that sounds harsh, but...
what can I say? It was nothing like the way I'd always dreamed
it would be. Nothing like the way I'd fantasized.
It wasn't because Tom's inexperienced either. He has a very
talented mouth and is incredibly receptive to the slightest
touch. The sex should have been fantastic, and in the
beginning, I'd thought it would be.
But somehow, it hadn't felt quite right. It's hard to explain
exactly, and how do I explain it to Tom? There had been
something missing. Passion, but no flame. No something extra
that makes good sex great.
Oh hell! The truth is... it hadn't been good. It had been okay
sex made good because Tom and I care about one another.
And that's all it'd been. No fireworks, no earthquakes and
certainly no cries of ecstasy. We'd both come without any
problems but, afterwards, it just felt flat... empty...
It wasn't what I'd expected, and I don't think it was what Tom
had expected either. The worst part of the whole thing was when
we kissed. After the first couple of intensely passionate
kisses, it had felt... funny when we kissed. I know this is
going to sound weird, but it felt almost like I was kissing my
brother or something. Except, of course, I don't have a brother
so I wouldn't know what it's like to kiss one anyway.
Lying here, staring up at the ceiling, another revelation has
crashed down upon me. It's exactly the same as all those times
when I was a child. The wanting was better than the getting.
Once I'd been given what I wanted, I never really wanted it
anymore. For six long years I'd wanted Tom. Craved him
desperately. Now that I had him, I no longer wanted him.
I frown as a growing horror starts to crawl around inside me.
I'm not in love with him. Maybe I never was. Maybe it was lust
all along. If Tom had gone out with me that very first night, I
probably would never have fallen in love with him.
He was unattainable and that pushed all my buttons. My horror
escalates. I'm a terrible person. Truly awful. How can I
treat Tom like that? How can I? He's such a wonderful person.
I care about him, I care about him a lot. He's the best friend
I could ever have and I'll always love him. Always! I'm just
not in love with him. And I feel so bad about it! So bad!!!!
How can I tell him? What can I say? 'Hey, Tom? You'll never
guess what? Now that you've finally discovered that you're in
love with me, I've just figured out I'm not? What a joke?'
Oh, yeah. Very funny. Tom doesn't deserve that. I'm
despicable. That's what I am. I just took advantage of the
fact that he was emotionally distraught, so that I could have sex
with him, and now I'm going to tell him I don't really love him.
Does the darkness within me never cease? I'm about to hurt Tom
terribly, and I know for an absolute fact that as soon as
B'Elanna finds out she's going to come and hurt *me*. And I
won't try to stop her. I deserve it. Poor, poor, Tom.
With a deep sigh I roll over to face him, determined to do what
must be done. I'll be as gentle as possible, but I have to tell
him the truth. No more evasions, or half-truths, or lies.
"Yes, Harry?" His voice is as soft as mine, and he rolls over so
that we're lying face-to-face.
"I have to tell you that..."
"I have to tell you something too," he interrupts me.
"No, let me tell you first," I say desperately.
"Harry, I want you to know that you're the best..."
"Tom..." I say hastily, sitting up suddenly. I can't let him
declare his feelings for me. Once said, there'll be no turning
back. The awkwardness between us will be too insurmountable to
climb. "Don't say anything else."
He sits up too and puts his hand on my arm. "I have to, Harry."
"No. Before you say anything, I have to tell you something."
"Let me finish," he says in frustration.
"No!" My voice is sharp... too sharp, and he turns me around to
"Harry, please don't be like this. I..."
"I have to say this first," I say quickly. "Just shut up and
"Shut up, Tom."
"I mean it, Tom."
Tom grits his teeth and then waves his hand at me. "Go ahead."
I take a deep breath. "What we just shared was wonderful. It
was amazing, incredible even, but..."
"It was?" Tom's voice cracks a little. He looks astonished.
"It wasn't?" I ask tentatively.
"Oh... yeah. It was. Of course, it was."
"You didn't like it?"
"Harry, what are you saying? I came didn't I?"
"So did I, so that doesn't mean anything."
"It was... What do you mean by that? You didn't like it
"Of course I liked it. It was... *either*? Ah ha!!! So you
*didn't* like it?"
"I didn't say that. It was *you* that said... whatever the hell
it was you said."
"Don't put this on me. You started it by looking so astonished
when I said how good it was."
"Me? You're paranoid. I was surprised, that's all."
"What the hell were you surprised about?"
"Nothing. I just thought it would have been... different,
"Not so... not so..."
"Heh! I didn't say that. I didn't even mean that."
"Yes, you did. I can tell by your face."
"I did not. Stop putting words in my mouth."
I open my mouth to argue once more and then stop. What the hell
am I doing? He's right. The sex hadn't been very good. And
I'm supposed to be ripping Tom's heart out and stomping it into
the ground, not arguing about who said what about the sex
Tom looks as guilty as I feel. "I'm sorry, Har. I didn't mean
to hurt your feelings."
"You didn't hurt my feelings," I try to reassure him.
"Harry, I'm sorry, but I have to say this. Making love to you
felt strange. It didn't feel right."
"That's exactly the way I feel."
"I felt like I was with my brother or something."
"Me too. Shit! What a mess. I'm so sorry, Harry."
"There's nothing to be sorry about, Tom. I'm the one who's
sorry. Having sex with you is probably the best thing I could
have done. It's finally put everything in its proper
"Yeah. I'm sorry, Tom, but I'm really not in love with you."
"You're not? Are you sure?"
"Positive. The sex just felt too weird."
"That's for sure. I really am sorry we did that though, Har."
"I'm glad we did, but for you... well, it probably wasn't such a
"No. I'm fine. At least now I know I'm not in love with you."
"You're in love with Chakotay," I say quietly. I guess I'd
known it along. Which makes what just happened even more
His eyes cloud over. "I don't want to talk about him. He
obviously doesn't feel the same way."
And that's what I don't understand. I was sure he did. I'd
been *so* sure. "He's an idiot."
"He made me feel so fucking stupid."
"He's an ass." I'm going to have to talk to him, because I
know I wasn't wrong.
"Harry, what am I going to do? Everything's such a mess," Tom
"Right now you need to get some sleep. We both do."
He nods tiredly and lies down once more. "I guess I should
clean up and get out of here."
"You're not going anywhere," I say firmly. "You can sleep
here." I'm really worried about him. He's so depressed.
Climbing out of bed, I make my way to the bathroom and bring
back a couple of washcloths so we can clean up a bit.
"We'll worry about this in the morning," I tell him quietly,
sliding back in beside him once more.
"It's okay, Har," he sighs. "There's nothing you can do,
But that's where he's wrong. There's plenty I can do. I can
talk to Chakotay. He's too stubborn to admit how he feels, but
I'll make him. The two of them are in love and belong together.
I intend to make it happen. It's the least I can do to make it
up to Tom for having sex with him. The very least.
To be continued in part 31.