Chapter Text
This scene is set right after Chapter 48 of "The Forgotten Traveler"
"Harris, are you there?"
Kosh's muffled voice meshed with the whistling kettle Harris put on for tea. Harris took the kettle off from the stove and limped across his room, using the wall as an anchor. "I'm here," Harris called back. "Just a sec."
Pain throbbed through him in waves. It coursed through his muscles like prickling needles and made every move slow and calculated.
"Of course," Kosh groaned from the other side of the door. "I don't know what I was thinking coming here when you're hurt. I—"
He continued on, doubting himself and likely pacing back and forth on the other side of the door. Reaching it, Harris unlatched the lock and the door hissed open. Kosh startled, looking sheepish once he realized it was just the door opening. An indigo flushed the tip of his ears. Harris chuckled when he saw him, he couldn't help it. Kosh looked like a dog that couldn't look its owner in the eye after its mess was discovered on the carpet.
"I know it's late." Kosh slid his hands together awkwardly. "And I understand I am not the person you would like to see, howev—"
"Kosh," Harris said his name, getting him to stop. Motioning his head inside, he said, "Come on."
Kosh didn't move at first, but then rushed in, letting Harris shut the door behind him. "I wanted to come here and apologize," Kosh got straight to the point.
He was expecting Kosh to say as much. Harris leaned back against his door frame, a soft smile curving across his face. "There's no need."
"There is," Kosh admitted, letting out a breath that seemed to take out the remaining strength in his body and he slumped down onto the edge of Harris' bed. "There's so much I've said to you. About you." He huffed out a breath, planting his face in his hands. His fingers dug into his hair. "I was making a fool of myself."
"You weren't meant to know," Harris said. He moved from the wall, hissing from a spike of pain shooting up through his leg. Kosh sprung up and helped him to the bed and Harris continued as he sat down, "You were speaking up about what you saw. It's not your fault."
"I wish I did know earlier," Kosh said softly, sitting down again beside Harris. He looked towards the opposite side of the room, eyes distant. "There were so many times I…" His voice trailed off.
The flush of indigo brushed against his cheeks and Harris noticed the way it made his white freckles shimmer. They reminded him of the stars. Harris looked down towards his hands clasped in his lap.
"Did anything I say hurt you?" Kosh asked with a whisper.
Harris placed his hand on Kosh's knee. "No. I knew you didn't understand."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
That was the question, wasn't it? Harris didn't know the answer to it. He could drum up a dozen excuses, but none of them exactly fit.
Kosh moved on from it and realized, "Back on Dassana, you were trying to keep me safe when you told me to leave with the others…"
Harris swallowed thickly. He still saw the image of Kosh being thrown onto the stage beside him, battered, bloodied, and broken. Looking over at Kosh, he wasn't sure how he could go around as if that hadn't happened. Not a single scar remained. Kosh looked over, their eyes meeting.
"Harris," Kosh whispered, "say something. Please."
Clearing his throat with a slight cough, Harris looked away, his hand covering part of his mouth. He felt a warmth across his face, dusting his cheeks. "I was trying to protect everyone. I'm not a fighter, never really have been. The performances seemed like the only thing I could do to be part of it all."
Kosh took in a deep breath, slowly letting it out. "I was sure we lost you back on Dassana. I haven't been able to stop thinking about it."
Harris' grip tightened over Kosh's knee. "It was a close call."
"I was so… infuriated with you," Kosh said with a soft humorless laugh. "I said that if you ever woke up, I'd give you a piece of my mind and make sure you never performed again."
That tickled Harris. A chuckle rose in his chest and he wrapped his arm around Kosh's shoulder. "You did lecture me when I woke up… and cried."
"I thought you were dead," Kosh defended, his entire face indigo now. "I didn't know what to do."
The smirk across Harris' face softened. "Yeah, I know…"
Kosh sighed, his head lolling over to rest on Harris' shoulder. "I guess… I should thank you. For everything you've done for the people here. None of us would be here if it weren't for you."
"I wouldn't go that far," Harris replied, the warmth on his face deepening. "I'm still a cocky bastard. I just made use of it."
With a scoff, Kosh straightened and stood from the bed. He paced around the small room, pausing at the stove when he saw the kettle. Opening the cupboards, he grabbed two mugs and poured the still steaming tea.
"Sure, make yourself at home," Harris remarked, chuckling when he saw Kosh smile.
Kosh put aside the kettle. "It's good to know you still use it."
"Eh, occasionally," Harris said, accepting the cup when Kosh handed it to him. "Few times a week at most."
"My sister, Clarisse, is the most proficient with tea in my family," Kosh explained, making conversation. "I think you would like her."
"Is she single?" Harris asked and Kosh shot him a glare. "Kidding, kidding." He cleared his throat and took a drink. "I wouldn't go after your sister." Not when I have you around, he thought, but he didn't say it aloud. "You should talk about your family more," he said instead. "I'm sure they're more than humble tea makers."
"Much more," Kosh agreed, stirring the tea and staring into it. "I hope you will get the chance to meet them someday."
"You'd let me meet them?" Harris asked.
"If you promise to behave," Kosh muttered, taking a sip of his tea. Then he paused, his smile fading. "And if you are able to make it off Glee Anselm. After the message from Zot…"
"We'll make it out," Harris answered quickly. "Jarith's working right now on coming up with a plan. And you'll be heading off with Ris and the kids tomorrow morning."
"What about you?" Kosh asked. "You're still recovering."
"I won't go anywhere without Jarith," Harris replied. He hoped he sounded like his mind was made up. It wasn't.
Kosh looked over at him, Harris felt his pleading eyes. "I wish we had more time," Kosh muttered, turning his attention away.
Harris put down his cup on a side table. "Time for what?"
He looked over when Kosh didn't reply and found him still flushed, gazing into his tea.
"I was wrong about you," Kosh admitted with a small voice. "This whole time I've been wishing you could always be the man I thought you were. And… now I realize you are. It's… overwhelming."
A warmth filled Harris' chest, followed by nerves. "In a good way?"
"Yes." Kosh peeked up at him, but couldn't hold his gaze. "I wish there was more time to start over. I'd… like to know the real you."
Harris' expression softened. "You already do."
Kosh looked up at him, his eyes studying him, searching. "Do I?"
In that moment, Harris felt that Kosh was looking straight through him. He could feel the uncertain hopefulness in his eyes. It was both exciting and terrifying to Harris. Thinking back over the past few years, he couldn't recall the moment Kosh crossed that line from a friend to being someone that kept him up at night as his mind replayed every interaction they shared. Even Kosh's snide remarks and insults brought him something— something more than the fawning fans beneath his stage ever did.
A soft breath left Harris. "You've always been there, Kosh. You knew the real me under the performance and never stopped believing I could be better." His fingers wrapped around Kosh's hand and he brought it to his lips, placing a soft kiss on his knuckles. "So thank you."
Kosh's lips parted, his breath hitching. The moment his hand was lowered, he leaned forward and firmly pressed his lips against Harris'. His glasses hit Harris' cheek, their noses bumped, and Harris was so surprised he bit his own tongue. Kosh pulled back as suddenly as he had leaned in and jumped off the bed. He sped to the other side of the room, face burning. It took Harris a moment to put together what had just happened.
"What did I..?" Kosh started blathering. His fingers ruffled through his hair, then went over his mouth, then into his pockets, until going back to his hair. "I just— I mean I… That was… I don't know what I was thinking. Did I force that on you? Oh goddess, I did, didn't I?"
Harris watched Kosh panic, a low rumbling laugh rising in his chest. He pulled himself up to stand, his legs shaking. With one of his hands on the wall, he moved to close the distance between them. All the while, Kosh continued his panicked tirade until Harris finally spoke up.
"Are you done?" Harris asked.
Kosh stopped mid sentence and looked over at the bed, finding it empty. His gaze continued grazing till he discovered Harris just a few feet away, his right arm propped against the wall. Clearing his throat, Kosh straightened. "I… I shouldn't have done that. I'm… I'm sorry. It won't happen again."
"Why not?" Harris asked, the corner of his mouth quirking up into a smirk when Kosh raised his eyes to him. "Didn't like it?"
Kosh's eyes diverted away, frantically looking for something to land on. "I-I didn't say that." He shifted his weight between his feet. "Did you… like it?"
"I mean, I made my way over here hoping to kiss you again," Harris replied, his expression growing into a grin, "so yeah. I think I did."
"More?" Kosh squeaked. He coughed nervously. His hands tangled together in front of him.
"Are you going to make me come over there?" Harris asked.
Kosh hesitated, but scuffled over to the wall. He swallowed, his head down. "I've never… I don't know how to do anything like this."
Explains the kiss, Harris thought, chuckling. He placed his hand under Kosh's chin and lifted his eyes to meet with his. His grin softened and his head rested against the wall. Kosh's freckles sparkled across his darkened cheeks. Harris grazed his thumb across them and Kosh's breath stuttered.
"You know," Harris muttered, "I've always liked the way you look when you blush."
Kosh nearly pulled away. "I'm not blu—"
He was cut off by Harris' lips melting into his. Kosh squeaked, his fingers curling into nervous fists at his side.
"Relax," Harris whispered against his lips.
A soft whine came up Kosh's throat, melding into a hum. Harris hand cupped Kosh's face, his fingers threading into his hair. The kiss parted, their faces just a breath apart. Harris took a moment before opening his eyes. Kosh still had his eyes closed, a blissful smile across his face.
"So warm…" Kosh whispered, his face resting against Harris' palm.
Harris grinned and kissed Kosh's cheek.
It was Kosh this time that caught Harris' lips before he could pull away. Harris chuckled into the kiss and took the lead. His hand moved from Kosh's face and he wrapped his arm around his back, pulling Kosh flush against him. Kosh hummed, his hands tentatively moved to Harris' sides, barely touching him, but there all the same.
Harris' mind was reeling. Kosh was so fragile in his arms, yet perfect in its own way. Harris could tell Kosh was studying the way he kissed, learning. The moment he seemed to understand something, Harris would do something else and Kosh would let out a small gasp or sudden twitch. He didn't want to let him go. But his legs were starting to shake and pain was trickling up through his muscles. With reluctance, he ended the kiss, pulling away and catching his breath.
Kosh licked his lips, his breath still stuttering. "W-We should get you back to bed."
Harris nodded, wrapping his arm around Kosh's shoulder. "I…" he caught a full breath, then quipped, "I didn't expect you to be ready for that sort of thing already."
"What do you…?" Kosh stopped, then tensed. "N-No wait. That's not—"
He was cut off by Harris laughing, followed by a hiss of pain. "I'm kidding," Harris promised, still chuckling. "One thing at a time."
"R-Right," Kosh agreed, helping Harris lower onto the side of the bed. He stepped back and took a full breath. "I should let you get some sleep." Fidgeting, he added, "I… very much enjoyed tonight, and I hope we can do that again."
Harris looked up at him. "You can stay."
"I shouldn't. I mean…" Kosh shook his head and cleared his throat. "I don't know if I'm ready."
"I don't mean like that," Harris assured him before adding with a bit of a laugh, "unless you wanted to." He took a breath, looking down at his bed. "I mean just staying here and sleeping. Keeping each other company. That sort of thing. You don't even have to sleep on the bed if you don't want to."
Kosh looked up at him. Then his eyes drifted around, thinking it over. "I'd like that," he admitted, readjusting his glasses as a small smile curved across his face.
Harris' could have melted. He reached and grabbed Kosh's hands, tugging him towards the bed. Laying down, he watched as Kosh took off his boots and socks, placing them neatly beside the bed. Then came off the glasses, a back up pair he had in his quarters after the last pair got broken on Dassana. They were gently placed on the side table beside Harris' mug of half-drinken tea. Then he laid down and Harris pulled the comforter over both of them. Kosh stared up at the ceiling and even beside him, Harris could feel his racing heart. Their hands met in the space between them, their fingers threading together.
"We… kissed," Kosh said into the darkness.
Harris looked over at him, an exhale of laughter huffing out of him.
"Does that… mean you like me?" Kosh asked with a small voice.
"I should hope so," Harris replied.
Kosh looked over at him, slightly amused, but the smile fell to something contemplative. "Can you say it?"
With some effort, Harris rolled onto his side and he brought Kosh's hand to his mouth, placing a small kiss on his knuckles. "Kosh D'veari, I, Harris Concordian, like you. Quite a lot, actually."
A stifled laugh bubbled out of Kosh. "For how long?" he asked.
He shrugged. "Couldn't say exactly. One day I just knew. But it's been a while."
"Really?" Kosh asked, turning on his side to face him. "How long's a while?"
Harris scoffed. Releasing Kosh's hand, he snaked his arm around his waist and tugged him closer. "What about you? Do I get to hear if you like me or not?"
The indigo hue rushed back into Kosh's cheeks. His hands rested against Harris' chest. "I… I realized I developed feelings shortly after meeting you."
"That early?" Harris asked, then chuckled. "I had no idea."
"Yes, well, they didn't stay long once I saw you perform," Kosh added quickly. "Well… they did, in the background, and they'd come back whenever I'd see the real you. It was…"
"Frustrating, I imagine," Harris finished for him and Kosh nodded.
"I created this idea that you didn't care about the war or what was really going on…" Kosh continued. His eyes settled on his hands against Harris' chest. "It never felt right. Now I understand why that was. And I know you said it was alright, but I'm sorry for assuming the worst of you."
Harris studied him and the backs of his fingers grazed over Kosh's cheek. "You know now. That's all that really matters to me."
Kosh's gaze hesitantly lifted up to his and he smiled.
"So is that a yes, you like me, or…?" Harris asked and Kosh chuckled.
"Yes," Kosh replied, his cheeks dark and full. "I like you, Harris."
Harris grinned and closed the distance between them.
Jarith shielded his eyes when he walked out of the bunker. Even underwater, he could tell when it was daylight. The streaks of sunlight piercing the water were few, but they were strong and bright. He'd stayed awake the entire night. It passed faster than he cared to admit. That Lupe proved himself to be a valuable ally, he'd have to tell Sam about it. The next three days were going to be brutal, but if it works — correction, when it works — everyone will be freed. All Jarith needed to do right now was gather everyone for the debriefing.
The announcement of the debriefing had already spread amongst the rebels in the bunker, but Jarith knew he needed to gather a small handful on his own men on his own. Namely, Harris. The medicine from Sam helped, but Harris' recovery was still a ways away. After everything Harris had done for him, helping him around with his wheelchair seemed like the least he could do.
It didn't take long to reach Harris room, a studio attached to three others all in a line. Jarith knocked and waited. There was no reply. It wasn't a complete surprise. The sun was barely up and Harris couldn't exactly come to the door himself.
"If you're awake, Harris, I'm coming in!" Jarith called through and scanned his hand on the device beside the door.
With a chime, the door hissed open. Light poured into the dark room. Jarith walked in and spotted the wheelchair. He grabbed it and wheeled it by the bed. Then he looked up and stopped. He saw Harris slumbering away, as he expected, but he also saw Kosh wrapped in his arms. Both of them had soft, blissful smiles across their face.
Jarith stood straight and crossed his arms, a smirk grew, then a grin. He chuckled, keeping his voice quiet. As sweet as they were, there was a lot to get done. So, he whistled, sharp and sudden.
Kosh startled. His eyes shot open and he kicked the blanket off, sitting up in a rush. He froze when he saw Jarith and covered his face with his hands.
"Morning," Harris greeted with a yawn, lifting his hand.
"Debrief's in ten minutes," Jarith told them, pushing the wheelchair to the side of the bed. "Since you're here Kosh, I'm assuming you can help Harris."
"Y-Yes, Commander," Kosh stammered, his face burning.
Jarith walked out of the studio and waved over his shoulder. "Happy for you two. It's about time."
Harris laughed and the door slid shut.