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This is the worst birthday I’ve ever had. Harry sat alone in the half-darkened mess hall, drinking chamomile tea and staring blankly at the stars rushing by. He was twenty-three today, not that anyone cared.
You could have said something, he reprimanded himself. He’d pretended that it never seemed like the right time to mention it and that he didn’t need another reminder that he was the baby of the Bridge, but the real reason was that he couldn’t stop thinking about what his parents were doing today, and that was too much to handle. He’d been in the Delta Quadrant for nearly a year now, and he was pretty sure Libby had moved on, but he knew they never would. His mother, the Alpha Quadrant’s biggest optimist, probably had expected him to return today. He imagined her getting up early and staying up until midnight, certain that he’d come any minute. And I didn’t, and now she’s crushed.
Never mind. It was after 2300 and the day was almost over anyway. He should finish his tea and go to bed.
Just then, a cheerful voice rang out behind him. “Harry! There you are! I’ve been looking all over for you!”
Harry turned around and saw a tall figure making his way over. “Tom? What are you doing here?”
Tom slid into the chair next to Harry. “Helping you celebrate! Here,” he said, and plopped a large slice of chocolate cake in front of Harry.
“Huh?” Harry replied dumbly. “Celebrate?”
Tom momentarily looked worried. “Today is your birthday, right? Crap, don’t tell me I got the day wrong.”
“Um... it’s still July 9th, right?”
“Yeah, for about 45 more minutes.”
Harry had a deer-in-the-headlights expression on his face as he replied, “Um, then yes, it’s my birthday. But uh... how did you know? I didn’t tell anyone.”
Tom grinned at him and said, “I used a top-secret Section 31 trick known as ‘reading your service record.’”
“Of course you did.” Harry rolled his eyes affectionately.
Tom slapped him on the back and said, “So, are you going to eat it, or what? Don’t tell me you don’t like chocolate cake anymore!”
“Only if you help,” Harry smiled gratefully.
“Good thing I brought two forks,” Tom grinned, and handed one to Harry. “Wouldn’t want you to lose your girlish figure.”
They tucked in to the cake and devoured it within minutes. Harry murmured, “Thanks, Tom.”
Tom smiled back at him and draped his arm over Harry’s shoulders. “No problem, Har. I couldn’t just ignore your birthday.”
Harry rested his head on Tom’s shoulder, closed his eyes, and sighed contentedly. Tom had always been handsy, and until tonight, Harry had never reciprocated, but this? This just felt right. They sat like that for a moment, and then Tom’s mouth met Harry’s, tasting of the cake and strong coffee. His lips felt heavenly, and then suddenly, they were gone.
It was hard to tell in the dim light, but Harry was pretty sure that Tom was blushing beet red, at least if the heat radiating off him was any indication.
Tom stammered, “I’m sorry, Harry, I shouldn’t-“
Harry’s brain took a moment to catch up to what just happened and he blinked in shock.
Tom moved to get up and he blurted, “You know what, I’m just going to-“
Like hell you are! Harry threaded his fingers through Tom’s hair and pulled him in for another kiss, this one longer and slightly steamier than the one before. When they parted again, Harry whispered, “You’re not just going to do that on my birthday, are you?”
“No,” Tom chuckled wickedly.
“Good,” Harry purred, and kissed him again. This is the best birthday I’ve ever had.