FIC: Incomplete Curriculum (Sulu/Chekov)
Aug. 15th, 2009 11:12 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
tourdefierceTitle: Incomplete Curriculum
Author's name:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
loony4lupin
Written for:phisinfinity
Pairing/characters: Sulu/Chekov, minor hints at Spock/Uhura and Bones/Kirk but only in passing.
Rating: NC-17 for sure
Warnings: Sex- underage too in some countries, angst, 2nd person.
Word count: 9Kish
Summary: You're in a car with a beautiful boy, and he won't tell you that he loves you, but he loves you. And you feel like you've done something terrible, like robbed a liquor store, or swallowed pills, or shoveled yourself a grave in the dirt, and you're tired. You're in a car with a beautiful boy, and you're trying not to ell him that you love him, and you're trying to choke down the feeling, and you're trembling, but he reaches over and he touches you, like a prayer for which no words exist, and you feel your heart taking root in your body, lie you've discovered something you don't even have a name for. - Richard Siken, "You are Jeff", Section 24.
Disclaimer: NOT MINE. I'M NOT MAKING ANY MONEY.
Author's Note: I hope you enjoy this! I took these prompts: geeking out, quirks, fluffy stuff, crushing. I hope you are not offened by the 9,000 words in 2nd person. It’s just... Chekov wouldn’t stop. If you don't know whomadeyemax is, then you best get your shit together. She's fabulous and she's my beta.
You take a deep breath after you save James T. Kirk and Hikaru Sulu from falling to their deaths on Vulcan and try not to pay too much attention to the way Doctor McCoy sweeps in to check over the two men. You try not to notice how beautiful Lt. Sulu looks with his pupils blown wide and the shaky laughter of relief vibrating through his chest. Instead, you sit and listen to Acting Captain Spock. Watching his particles disappear, reorganizing in a flurry of light, reminds you of your first time being transported. You had a bad feeling then, about failing your Xenolinguistics exam, just like you have a bad feeling now about watching the half-Vulcan go. The planet is disappearing. Doesn't he know that? You can practically feel the pull of red matter. It is illogical, and you know it, but it doesn't stop you from holding onto the panel until the white of your knuckles burns, as if the imploding planet will pull you away at any moment.
You can't take a deep breath after you kill Acting Captain Spock's mother.
You walk out after the Acting Captain but turn at the first available corner. You start to run.
No one told you at Starfleet how is feels to save people. No one at Starfleet ever told you how it feels to have that swooping feeling of gratitude, of the humble feeling of knowing your fingers, your mind can be trusted- no one told you how that feels to be taken away with such force; like when you leave someone's mother to tumble off the cliff of an imploding planet. No one told you and you hate to be unprepared. You hate to be a disappointment. You hate the look on the Acting Captain's face, his fingers outstretched to catch the particles of his mother that you couldn't hold on to. You lost her.
You have nowhere to go. You're on a Federation vessel. There is no dirt to kick up beneath your shoes or grass to crush in bright green stains on the undersides of your trainers. There is no air scented of pine and cedar to breath into your lungs. There is only blinding white light and the image of their faces, so many faces rematerializing on the transporter platform. Faces of relief. Faces of despair. Faces of panic. Faces of resignation.
You wonder what your face looks like.
<3<3<3
You're only been back on the bridge for five minutes before Lt. Sulu returns. Something thick and watery swells up in your throat and threatens to spill out all over him. You take a deep breath and refuse to watch as he quickly dismisses Jensen and slips into the pilot chair. He winces. You close your eyes and do the gravity calculations that saved his life in you head. It makes it more real. Real enough for you to beat away the need to touch him, to trace the features of his face, littered with cuts and lingering bruises that will bloom in the night when you are elsewhere.
When he smiles at you, you ignore the fact that it feels like it’s just for you. He does not love you. He does not ache to touch you. He is grateful for your hands and your calculations that saved his life. You are grateful too. But you know that your gratitude and his are two very different emotions.
You've only been back on the bridge for twenty minutes when Kirk gets thrown bodily from the ship. You watch his vitals as the pod launches into the atmosphere. The steady thump of his heart beat underneath your fingers on the console is strangely comforting. You agree with Kirk. You like Kirk. It is strange because you know Acting Captain Spock is correct in his assumptions, but it doesn't stop you from wanting to do the right thing. The insubordination feels foreign underneath your skin and you do calculations again and again as you feel Lt. Sulu tense next to you. You want to move your chair closer to his and let him know that yes, you too feel the urge to hack in the system and reprogram the projectile pod so that it carries James T. Kirk back to the Enterprise, back where he belongs.
Instead, you try to catch his eye. He is too busy watching the movement of the Acting Captain and the irate CMO. You like the sound of the CMO's voice. It is nothing like home, but his emotion is clear and vivid in your mind as it slips and slides in his specific dialect.
Lt. Sulu does not look away until you are on the two hundredth digit of pi and when he makes eye contact with you, you forget to hide your smile and he cocks his head in question until you blush and look away. He is not yours, you remind yourself. Lt. Sulu belongs to no one but the Enterprise.
"Ensign Chekov,” Acting Captain Spock says, “approximate time of arrival in-"
"Two hours, three minutes and forty three point zero seven seconds," you say, practically cutting the Acting Captain off and you feel shame burn. You are too young to be here. You are too inadequate. You killed his mother.
You check the course once again in your embarrassment, and both Lt. Sulu and the Acting Captain are looking at you. The shallow breaths you take as you count the stars the ship passes don't feel right and your chest is tight with the tension of the bridge and all that has happened. Your mind wanders to your fellow cadets, their bodies floating in space around the black hole of Vulcan (Are they in another reality now? One where someone saved them?) and you close your eyes tight for three point four seconds before the screen in front of you blurs into focus and your hands stop trembling.
It is okay. Lt. Sulu saved you all with his mistake, a few seconds wherein he smiled at you in an embarrassed sort of way that made you grin, wide and unashamed of what you felt for him. He did not look away then. And when you followed him into warp, Captain Pike solid and comforting behind you, you thought you had followed him into something else as well. Something like the trembling of your hands and the swell of your heart when Lt. Sulu smiled. You are a fool.
You feel the Acting Captain's gaze move off of you, but Lt. Sulu's remains. You are unsure of whether this hurts or comforts you. You know it is sharp and sends shivers down your spine as you focus on the feeling of the console beneath your fingers and the space stretched out before you in need of navigation.
<3<3<3
You are relieved of your post for an hour. The CMO does not listen to your protests, they were weak at best, as he uses a tricorder on you and practically marches you to your quarters. You know this is him worrying for James T. Kirk, and the displacement of his feelings of letting his friend be launched away from the ship. You feel less alone.
"Please return in an hour, you are necessary to the bridge," the Acting Captain says without a trace of emotion. You nod.
"Get your ass out of that chair, kid," are the only words the CMO says to you before dumping you into your quarters and locking you in. You could reprogram the door's control panel, if you really wanted to. But something about the CMO without the comforting presence of Kirk stops you from even considering it. You know them. From the academy. And they act strangely without one another- as if they are each other's phantom limbs.
You know Lt. Sulu from the Academy as well. The memories rush through you and you feel the air suction out of your body, leaving you staggering back towards your bed to collapse in a heap. It only takes you a few moments to recognize that the bed you have landed on is not your bed at all, but your roommate's, your accidental roommate.
You blush. It was not accidental at all that you were paired with Lt. Sulu, who should have gotten his own quarters but had mysterious been placed with you as a result of a computer glitch that was supposed to be dealt with as soon as they had figured out what was wrong with Vulcan. It seemed trivial now. But as you turn your head into Lt. Sulu's pillow and inhale, you are grateful you modified the sleeping arrangements to allow for this small measure of comfort.
You and Lt. Sulu had been in the same class. The class before most of the cadets on the Enterprise. You had transferred from the Russian Starfleet base when you were 15. Just two years ago, but it seems like so much longer. You have grown so much and seen too much- but felt too little in Russia and the transfer to America had been welcome. It was something your mother always said: "Oh my Pavel, you think so much! You see and know so much! But you feel too little, my Pasha. Too little."
And it was true, what your mother had said. It was true until you met Hikaru Sulu and you suddenly felt too much.
You had transferred in the middle of fall term. The days were both cool and warm but not natural for you and the heat of the uniforms made you cranky. Walking across to the Course Enrollment Office was a necessary evil because all your classes were too easy. You had only been there two days but you knew they were too easy and you felt mean answering all the questions, like you were showing off, and antsy when people looked at you with disdain, like you asked to be intelligent. Like you asked for your Russian tutors to push you into advanced warp theory when you were thirteen. So you skipped lunch and hurried across the campus, trying to look as small as possible to the students around you. It wasn't as if they were mean to you. They just looked at you as if you didn't belong. And you knew you didn't. In St. Petersburg, the Starfleet base was small and there were more than a few kids your age. None of them were as advanced as you, but still, they did not look at you as if you had Centorian Leprosy when you set the curve at the hundredth percentile.
You did not meet Lt. Sulu that day. But you did see him.
It must have been his off period, the way he laid stretched underneath a tree reading a book. His skin practically glowed in the sunlight that filtered through the leaves and it was the patch of skin reveal by his rumpled shirt that made you stop and stare. He was so relaxed, at ease with everyone around him when people walked by and nodded a hello, reminding him of a study group or of a fencing lesson. He smiled easily but didn't linger to talk with anyone, just turned back to his book with his lips lifted into a smile that barely revealed the whiteness of his teeth and the pout of his bottom lip.
You felt so much in those few moments you allowed yourself to stare, that it lingered long after, giving you the confidence to take the placement tests and coincidentally place you in almost all of Lt. Sulu's classes for the rest of the term.
Feeling too much became such a constant in those terms. You still feel it now, in every moment you sit next to him on the bridge, sharing a console and a room with him. You want so badly to touch him, to circle your hands around his strong wrists or comb your hands through his unruly hair. And yet, you are all at war with what feels like the entire galaxy and it does not leave time for romance or feeling too much. Times like these are for people like Comm- Acting Captain Spock, who can smooth out the complexities of feeling into fact. Or for brave people like James T. Kirk and Doctor McCoy, who do not look at the space around them with fear, but with possibility and solution.
It is not a place for you, you think as you clutch at Lt. Su- at Hikaru's pillow. It is not a place for dreamers or romantics or for feeling too much for someone who feels little for small, Russian "whiz-kids" that cannot save everyone.
You sob. It is loud in the empty room, both of your things left unpacked in the emergency. But you sob without tears until you can breath again and lull yourself to sleep for the remaining thirty minutes.
<3<3<3
You are too in awe of the jumps in transwarp beaming to fully process anything. This Montgomery Scott is a genius and you want so badly to be nearer to him. To get him a towel and anything that might make him tell you how. It isn't until Acting Captain has his fingers pressing holes into Kirk's neck that you gasp, suddenly coming aware of the mutiny on the bridge, and unconsciously grab Lt. Sulu's wrist. He feels warm underneath the dip between your thumb and pointer finger. Your fingertips burn brightly against his skin, your temperature rising so quickly as Kirk gasps for air and part of you wants Hikaru to make it all stop, to save lives you couldn't, but you do not let go. It could be fear, it could be want, but you can't draw you eyes away from the two waring bodies to look at Hikaru.
"Spock!"
Sarek's voice cuts through Commander Spock's mind, and possibly his emotions, methodically and slowly and you can feel Spock's brain working, so much like yours, so unused to feeling so much- feeling too much until it registers to both of you; to Spock that he is killing someone because he feels too much, and to you that you are still holding Hik- Lt. Sulu's wrist so tightly that it will probably bruise. You both draw your hands back.
You are extremely jealous when Commander Spock gets to leave the room where you still sit, staring at the winded form of Kirk and ignoring the way Lt. Sulu is staring at your blushing face. You feel so hot that your skin might explode and you want so badly to run, to run so fast that you reach warp and leave the Enterprise and go back to Russia. You want to tell yourself that this is because you can not handle war like this- between hurting Vulcans and desperate men. But you know it is at least partly because of Lt. Sulu’s smile and the way you know it is probably placating and tolerant, not encouraging and hopeful as you would like to think they are.
"Pike made Kirk first officer."
You automatically look at Lt. Sulu and you feel your eyes widen. No. There is no time to think foolish thoughts about going back home, Kirk is captain now and he will take care of everything. They will save the world. They will save the people that you can not save on your own. Lt. Sulu has made sure of this.
You feel relief and a sense of undeniable affection when Captain James T. Kirk turns to you to set the course for Earth.
"Chekov, tell me how we can get there before they do."
You frown, all thoughts of Lt. Sulu slipping from your mind as numbers swarm in droves and it feels good. It feels safe and just enough to make you feel like Pavel again. You don't even mind it when five minutes later, CMO McCoy mocks your age when you are sure, beyond all doubt, that you were doing complex mathematical equations before the doctor had even entered medical school. It is okay though, you think when Spock appears on the bridge, because things feel right. Even the panels underneath your fingers feel like they belong to you now and this sets a calm over you. It makes you want to talk. It makes you want to Conn the whole ship and say, "Da. Everything is alright now. Do not panic."
Instead, you set in your calculations and wait for Saturn to appear.
<3<3<3
Twenty minutes later CMO McCoy is looking down at you in a way that makes you fidget with your hair and glance down at your fingers until you almost send the Enterprise to the ninth moon of Clenda IV.
"Hey kid," he says as he leans against your chair and cocks an eyebrow. You feel as if you are going to be scolded, but then his face seems to relax. You stop gripping the console so hard.
"Yes, Doctor?"
"I know you haven't eaten, which can't be good for your seventeen-year-ol' growin' body. Why don't you go grab us all some sandwiches?"
You nod. It is not something you should be doing. It is something Security would do for the bridge in moments of crisis. But you need to stretch your legs and so you hurry away, grateful that the doctor has noticed your fidgeting. Lt. Sulu's eyes follow you on your way out but you make no indication that you know. He is not worried about you. He is worried that you will not perform admirably.
It is hard to think sometimes, when Hikaru is so close to you and usually you have time to go back to your room to sleep- to recharge from being around him so long like you did at the Academy. But you have not really been able to today. Today, you saved his life and had no time to tell yourself that he does not want you like you want him, that you imagine everything between the two of you because you feel and want too much.
You ask for too much too.
Soon, you will return to the bridge and ask Lt. Sulu to catch them up to the Narada in a very tricky move that has many variables of failure. Spock confirmed your statistics.
You order too many sandwiches to carry and recruit Ensign Andrews from Engineering (you also taught his Intermediate Astrophysics class at the Academy) to help you carry them to the Bridge. You accidentally give Lt. Sulu his favorite without him asking and you can't move your eyes away fast enough when he raises both of his eyebrows as he takes the first bite.
You squeeze your sandwich too hard and get tuna salad and crumbs all over the console.
<3<3<3
"Alright. Well."
It is all the captain says when the ship practically powers down in the middle of space. You stare out into the darkness. You want to leap into Hikaru’s lap. You know that the glances he has been sharing with you, the smiles, the sheer look of gratitude is nothing but it doesn’t feel like nothing at this very moment when you have both saved three of the bravest people in the whole of the galaxy.
"First thing is first. Commander Spock can you report with all decks to check on damages?"
"Indeed, sir."
"I want a body count as well."
The turbolift closes with a nod of First Officer Spock's head. The bridge is silent. Your mind feels so intensely full; of the way Hikaru launched them after the Narada and the CMO's voice as he gave a tentative report before he disappeared into surgery, words like permanent paralysis and extensive sensory nerve damage. You think about Montgomery Scott beaming two people from different locations, different gravities, different calculations onto one platform. You think of how time is a fickle thing and have an unexplainable urge not only to crawl into Hikaru's lap but to kiss his face and tell him that you are grateful (Are there no more words for this feeling inside of you?) that he exists in your timeline- in this universe. You resist the urge only when tasked with figuring exactly where in space they had warped into.
"Bridge to Engineering."
"Bloody fuck," comes the crackled response and you laugh inappropriately. "Sorry 'bout that, Captain Jim! We're in a wee spot o' bother down here. Not to worry. Not to worry. YOU! DO NOT TOUCH THAT, YOU NANCY FUCK!"
You laugh again and Lt. Sulu looks at you in alarm. The captain giggles behind you. It must be the stress. Or the almost dying. Or Lt. Sulu’s bruises. Or... you know, just about anything else.
"How's it look about getting us home?" asks the captain.
"Earth? Well, if you're lookin' for tha' miracle, Captain, then I'd say... oh, a week or two. Unless you've somehow figured a way to harness all the energy of that wee navigator up there!"
You blush. Mr. Scott must have noticed the way you were practically vibrating in your seat about the transwarp beaming, or maybe the captain told him. You wonder if Hikaru noticed too. This thought makes you blush further.
"In my defense, Keptain," you hear yourself saying, "transwarp beaming is a dream in numbers, complicated equations upon equations of-"
"Chekov, there is no need to explain your inappropriate love of math," the captain says to you before winking. Your face is beet-red and you wonder, desperately, what Hikaru is thinking. You want so badly to be away from him right now. You are running on too little sleep to hide from him. You need time away from him. At the same time, he feels so comforting next to you. Like he would take on the whole of the galaxy with just his fencing to protect you. It is all in your head, these feelings from Hikaru, but it soothes the embarrassment just a bit.
"Get us home as fast as you can. Any way we can help?"
"Aye! Power down all lights, anythin' ya won't be needin'."
"Affirmative. Kirk out."
The captain laughs a bit, before speaking with a few more people. You glance at Hikaru out of the corner of your eye. He is smiling, staring in to the vast expanse of space and smiling.
"Bridge to Sickbay."
"Dammit, Jim, I'm busy."
This time Lt. Uhura laughs first and you follow her, Lt. Sulu giggles breathlessly and you grow half hard in your regulation trousers. It feels surreal. To be alive, when so many are dead, and still wanting someone so much. It feels strange to still be this focused on something so trivial as love or hand holding or the smell of Hikau's pillow. And yet, here you are, half hard and wanting at a little breathless laughter.
"Too busy for me, Bonesy?"
"You're the damn captain, Jim. Get your shit together and act like it. I've got people to save. I'm a doctor, not a miracle worker. Bones ou- Dammit, Jim! McCoy out."
Everyone laughs. It's a bit manic. You all know that the reason the doctor is busy is because so many are dead or injured or missing, but there is security in his answer, gruff and stressed and still treating the captain like he's a little boy. It makes the bridge breathe a little, you can practically feel the room relax around you and you take a deep breath with it, thinking about how the Enterprise looks from the outside, bruised and broken but still humming with energy and the steady breath of the bridge, strong and silent.
Forty-five minutes later you are all replaced on the bridge. It takes a lot of effort to find people to replace everyone, but the good doctor is ordering five-hour shifts of sleep for everyone. You are the first to go. You have already plugged in the coordinates to home and tracked the sequence to avoid anything that might slow down an already damaged and slow-moving ship. Your work is done. In fact, you even found a passing nebula that might gain the ship a day or two. Whoever takes your place just needs to sit and watch the stars.
"Just don't... touch... anything. You'll do it wrong,” is what you mumble to your replacement, who you are sure actually works in the janitorial department, before you leave the bridge with heavy footsteps. You are suddenly so exhausted.
You're in your quarters and asleep on the nearest bed without a trace of thought.
<3<3<3
You are a light sleeper. This mostly comes from the academy, when you spent most of your time afraid that someone would play pranks on you in your sleep. They never did anything extreme, especially after you started teaching classes. But they would do small things, like reprogram the computer to disrupt your alarm and make you late to class or pile things in front of your door for you to fall or step into. You sleep light on the Enterprise because space is exciting and scary and war is loud in the silence of victory.
The door opens with a soft swoosh and you listen to the soft pad of Hikaru's shoes. You know you are tense and awake, but your mind feels like spider webs in the early morning, as if everything is wet and soft and sleepy. You do not move from your position, curled on your side and trembling underneath the blanket you managed to pull over you in the few minutes or hours you've been sleeping. The sound of Hikaru undressing is absent tonight. There are no sounds of him going through his usual routine, bathroom for a real shower and not a sonic one, water his plants, reading his personal messages from his family- you have only seen him do the routine a few times, but Lt. Sulu seeps into Hikaru at times when you know he isn't looking and routine is something you hate in your life but love in Hikaru.
Instead there is a dip in the mattress and you want badly to turn over into the pressure of Hikaru climbing into your bed, but you don't, you turn your head into the pillow and inhale Hikaru.
Oh.
You make a panicked sound in the back of your throat, sleepy still, but urgent, and try to turn over, but Hikaru is there. You swallow your apology for accidentally falling asleep in his bed when his arms encase you. He curls around you like warm stone, strong and confident. You sigh, but it sounds more like a whimper when your legs tangle with his, both still clad in regulation trousers.
"Go back to sleep, Pavel."
His voice is deep and tired but warm with affection when it envelops your name and your heart rate speeds to the point you think it might leap out of your chest and into the hand that is curled against your stomach. You think that this should feel like something different, like leaping off a cliff or drinking too much vodka. But it just feels like Hikaru closing his eyes wrapped around you. You think you should feel victory in confirmation of the small electric moments between the two of you. But all you feel is Hikaru.
"Sleep, Pavel."
You concentrate on the steady, slow beats of Hikaru's heart against your back and the way he buries his face in the curve of your neck, wet puffs of air on your skin and sweeping into your curls as if he is claiming them with each breath. It makes your heart flutter in the pace it keeps but the solid presence of Hikaru’s hand on your chest anchors you, his heart’s rhythm heavy and solid behind you, until you drift into a dreamless sleep.
<3<3<3
You're alone when you wake, but it doesn't take long for you to roll into the space Hikaru occupied last night and press your face into his pillow. It smells of the bridge and of sweat. There are faint traces of oil and dirt and Hikaru's fencing gear and it makes you smile into the pillow, your cock half-hard in your regulation trousers. You flush, arousal and embarrassment heating through you in licks of flame, but it doesn't stop you from inhaling deeply of Hikaru's pillow and slowly pushing your hips into the firm mattress.
You let yourself indulge, in such a moment of relief, in the thought of sitting at the helm beside Lt. Sulu, fingers drifting in sync with his strong and capable hands, and the way the lieutenant smothers his toast in layers of raspberry marmalade and margarine.
You are not surprised when your hips grind in rhythmic movements against the sheets, your half-hard morning erection quickly rising in the small moment of jubilee that you allow yourself to think about in the shadow of everything that has happened, that you are both alive and what that might mean. You whine into the pillow, hips moving frantically into the firm mattress below you and the smell of Hikaru everywhere. Your mind rapidly brings up images of the easy smile that Lt. Sulu will give you when you return to the bridge or the way Hikaru had pressed his cold nose into the nape of your neck last night or how Hikaru's face will look as he docks the ship at Earth, easy grace and moving confidence. You imagine how his skin will look in the sun of Earth; sweat gleaming on his smooth, olive skin when he takes off his gold shirt and smiles, wide and open and-
You think about days you will live to stroke hands on your cock in needy jerks while thinking of Hikaru's cock deep inside of you and the way Hikaru would say your name, hot and breathy in the shell of your ear- like last night, pressed so tightly against your back in the darkness of your room. Your orgasm takes you by surprise and you choke off a cry of Hikaru into the pillow as you come in frantic jerks of your slim hips, coating the inside of your briefs and twisting the base of your spine in a pleasure that blooms hot white.
You sigh, feeling silly for masturbating to Hikaru's pillow and slightly delirious with hunger before you rise and make your way to the sonic shower before venturing to the replicator. It is too early for the mess hall. You stuff your soiled briefs down the laundry shoot with cheeks tinged with embarrassment. The linens follow- just in case, because the thought of Hikaru sleeping on the sheets you came on is too much for your brain.
You layer your toast with butter and marmalade and pretend it does not remind you of Hikaru's body against yours.
<3<3<3
The turbo lift is empty as you make your way up to the bridge. It is also dark. Everything is almost pitch black so that all the extra power can be pushed to Engineering. You are practically vibrating with excitement. Will Hikaru look at you different as you share the console? Will he give you tiny smiles or casual brushes of his fingertips against yours? You wish so deeply to know what he was thinking last night when he climbed into bed with you. Was he just comforting you? The thoughts twist and coil in your stomach and worry bubbles up everywhere. Does he know about your silly infatuation that is growing rapidly into something bigger and scarier? Was he simply indulging you as a favor to the captain so that you would not loose your mind and he would have a solid navigator to get them home?
"Bridge to Chekov."
"Yes, Keptain," you stammer as your heart beats fast and irregular in your minor panic. You think about smiles and Academy days where he would sit next to you at meals, come to you without a trace of embarassment for help on assignments- you think about the way his lashes fluttered against your skin and you doubt every single moment of them.
"No need to report here. I'm gonna head to my quarters-"
"Dammit Jim, stop chattering away at the boy and just tell him what to do. You're wastin' my time."
“Bones. I will go to bed as soon as I'm done. You don't have to hover."
"I'm not hovering, you damn invalid."
You stifle a laugh and clear your throat.
"Sir?"
"Sorry, Chekov. Bones is a little moody today."
"Yes, sir."
"Head down to Engineering. Mr. Scott needs some help- even if he won't admit it."
"Yes, sir."
"I'M GOING BONES! Stop being so grabby. Or actually, be a little bit more grabby, you naughty doctor!"
"Kirk out," comes the growled out response from the CMO over the comm.
You count digits of pi as you get off the turbolift and walk down the hall. People are everywhere, looking busy and worried but tinged with relief. You want to look busy too, so you rush by, the many digits of pi rolling in your head like the domes of buildings back home. When you arrive, you feel frantic. The place is a mess of wires and sparks. But the smell of metal and the hum of the gently pulsating warp core burrows inside of you in a different way, settling in the bend of your elbow, the dip in your collar bone and the hollow of your spine until you are gently humming and making your way towards Mr. Scott.
Numbers sooth away any other thoughts. other thoughts of Hikaru, as your mind gets tangled inside the Enterprise.
<3<3<3
You are exhausted. And hungry as well. But food can wait because your knees are so sore, as is your back and neck and many muscles you forgot you had, from bending under consoles and squirming your way into Jeffries tubes all day long. Yet you feel satisfied; your brain has been worked, your fingers utilized and your heart calmed by the gentle lull of the Enterprise's own beating heart.
Tonight, you don't make the mistake of choosing the wrong bed. Last night was just a mistake. The quarters are dark, just the way you left them, and a ping of disappointment rushes through your chest. Lt. Sulu's bed is still mussed, the top blanket haphazardly strewn across the bottom and the top covers wrinkled. But it has no trace of the two of you. If you hadn't been there, hadn't felt him pressed against you, then you could have looked at the bed and deduced that Lt. Sulu had come back to quarters for a nap.
Yes. Lt. Sulu.
The sonic shower is quick and efficient over your skin, dispelling any lingering grime from the Engineering decks. Thankfully, the shower doesn't take away the hum of the warp core. You are grateful for this and dress in a pair of sleep pants that sit low on your hips. You scowl as you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. You look thin- too thin and the unnatural light of the ship does nothing for your palllor. Hikaru would never want you. You are a scrawny boy; nothing like the man that Hikaru is. That Lt. Sulu is.
Your bed feels too large for your body and you dream about swimming in a sea of covers, the soft regulation-blue cotton in waves around you, pushing against your skin and letting you skim over the top until the wave crashes and you are floating again, underneath the suffocating cotton.
You dream of walking barefoot on cobblestones.
<3<3<3
You don't wake up quickly. Not today. The world is heavy around you and comfortably warm.
There is something about the weight of another person. It feels like nothing else- it is specific, whether you've felt their weight before or not, but people feel different, their bodies molding and shifting in ways they don't realize as they settle in unconsciousness. It fascinates you enough to not panic when you feel the weight, instead you contemplate the weight of people, of what they carry. You don't want to open your eyes. There are only a few people who could have let themselves into your room. Doctor McCoy has a medical override code, but something about him tells you that he is not a cuddler. Captain Kirk has an override code as well, but as much as you know the captain has affection for you, crawling into your bed seems a breach of regulation.
Mr. Scott could easily hack into your room. Mr. Spock is too... logical? Polite? Plus, it is rumored that he and Lt. Uhura share beds.
"Pavel, stop thinking so loudly," comes a sleepy voice from somewhere in the vicinity of your neck and you think that maybe it is true because you did not even think about Hikaru, your roommate coming in and climbing into bed with you.
"I apologize, Mister Sulu."
He puffs laughter into your neck and you relax, letting out a breath you had not known you were holding. Your muscles go back to being boneless and enjoying the feeling of Hikaru, a warm weight, pressing into you from all sides. You ignore the need to know what this means and just enjoy it.
"I think maybe it's best if you call me Hikaru."
"Hikaru," you practically whisper. It sounds so different out loud and you let it roll around on your tongue for a moment as you categorize the sleepy shift of Hikaru's body atop your own, the press of his nose into your jaw, the ghost of his breath drawing goosebumps on your skin and the lazy way his hand traces the crease of your elbow. It is only then do you notice that it is morning and you are most definitely awake in ways that most seventeen-year-old men are awake. The hot blush is fast on your face and you wish that your positions were reversed so you could bury your head in Hikaru's neck.
"Although, if you're going to say it like that all time- you should probably just call me that in private."
"In what way, Hikaru?" You squirm a bit away from him in a effort to conceal your erection. You are not sure what this is, this sleeping in each others' beds, but you know that you do not want it to stop. Even if it is just kinship between you and Hikaru.
"Like it's a dirty word."
You choke back a moan. Hikaru shouldn't be allowed to say words like dirty because your body automatically goes places it shouldn't go- especially when you can actually feel the smooth expanse of olive skin pressed against your own, leaning into you like it wants to be discovered and mapped out like the stars you chart. You wiggle again because if you're still enough you can imagine the press of Hikaru's lips to your neck and it's making you hard, so hard and wanting that you can barely focus. And then your universe just seems to spin out of control when Hikaru shifts, hips pressing into yours when he leans up onto his elbows. You squeeze your eyes tight, face red and embarrassed as your cock presses into Hikaru's hip and he's staring, you can feel it, and if you open your eyes the galaxy feels like it will just unhinge and fly apart right here, in your room.
You are so embarrassed that you don't notice that Hikaru's hard too, the firm definition of his cock pressing into your boney hip with a tiny rocking motion, until he whispers, "Pavel," and then it's one of the only things you can feel. Unlike your hands and your left foot, because Hikaru is cutting off the circulation with his rocking hips.
You pry open your eyes. He face is so close to yours. He looks confident and easygoing and you can not imagine how. Your heart is beating so fast in your chest and you feel like you’r on the cusp of something huge- blindingly huge, but you cannot put a name to the way you are feeling.
"What are we doing," you ask in a whisper that sounds garbled by the thickness of your accent. Hikaru just smiles. Not the smile that he smiles on the bridge, when the captain makes a joke. No, this smile is different. It's confident and sexy and curious. And it fucking stops your heart.
"You have freckles on your nose," he says in a whisper back, his smile making tiny inflections in his voice. "Why didn't I notice that before?"
You don't have time to answer because Hikaru is pressing his lips, his very soft and very full lips, against your own and the galaxy doesn't unhinge but it certainly feels as though it does. He kisses you with parted lips that make a small sound as they press together in soft, teasing motions that have you arching into Hikaru's mouth and whimpering. It is as if that noise, the way it is wrenched out of you, awakens something in Hikaru that takes soft, teasing kisses and blows them open. His mouth is hot and wet and open on the next kiss, his hands threaded through your curls and tugging until he slants your mouth and takes your body hostage with his tongue. You moan loudly into his mouth as you cling to him, your body melting into all of his demands as he thrusts his tongue along your own.
You break apart for air and you hate it. You hate it and you wonder if you will ever be able to go a minute without the feel of Hikaru's mouth on yours. It is a silly thought but it is the only thought you have before you moan again, "Hikaru" slipping off your tongue and this time, yes, it is a dirty word.
He responds by practically growling and diving for your neck. You arch, your hips rubbing desperately against his stomach looking for more friction, more Hikaru pressed into your neck with sloppy kisses and direct bites into your skin that you know will bloom purple and yellow bruises that will peak above your collar. The thought of someone seeing them and knowing that you are Hikaru's is a thought that has you moaning and clutching at Hikaru's hair- which is too long and that will have to be cut soon. That thought seems like an outrage and you tug on it, as if claiming it in that moment- when Hikaru bites down on a spot behind your ear and you keen, pressing against him and coming so suddenly that you shout, your hips pumping desperately against Hikaru's body.
"Pavel," he says and you open your eyes to find Hikaru watching you with wide eyes and bruised lips. You want to bury your face in the pillow. You came so fast. Your body is still shaking from the force of your orgasm, but your sleep pants are sticky and uncomfortable and Hikaru's gaze is making you squirm.
"Did you just come?"
You nod because you can't deny it, because Hikaru is palming your half-hard cock through your damp pants with such fascination and satisfaction that it's making you hard again. And suddenly Hikaru is moaning, pulling off your pants and lapping at your hips. The reality of Hikaru licking come off your skin is shocking and so insanely hot that your mind explodes a little and you loose time in the pleasure of Hikaru's tongue lapping at your skin and the way he moans, deep and low that you can feel the vibrations of it all around you.
"Hikaru, Hikaru," is all you can say. Broken patterns of his name as he works his shirt off and you see miles of skin that you can only barely touch, it stretches out like the digits of pi- intangible and endless. He feels so far away from you as you trace over his shoulders and your fingers linger in his hair as he finishes devouring your seed-soaked skin. "Hikaru- I need... oh Hikaru."
It seems he knows exactly what you need even if you don't, because you are lost in the pleasure that this is happening. That this is real. That you are both alive. That you are both breathing in the same recirculated air and that you are both going home. You think that maybe Hikaru is your new home when he nods his head to your pleas and you both work at getting rid of clothes. You keep getting distracted by all his skin, it is tan and smooth underneath your fingers and you keep finding tiny patches that you have to kiss and it generally slows down the process, slows down whatever Hikaru was hurtling you towards.
His kisses are maddening; slow and deep and you press up against him, his whole body warm and there is so much skin that you gasp, panting into his ear and tugging on his body with so much need running through you that you have no idea what you want. But Hikaru knows. You don't know where the lube comes from since you keep Hikaru pressed up against you, lips on his skin, sucking on his tongue until he moans, bucking down against your aching cock. But somehow there is lube, probably from your night stand, but it doesn't matter because he's pressing, pressing, pressing into you with one slick finger and it's a tight fit that makes you squirm down onto his finger for more.
"Pavel, oh fuck Pavel, Pavel, Pavel," he says with his forehead against your chest as he raises your leg to his shoulder. He is watching as he presses his finger inside of you, tenderly but with so much intent he slips a second finger inside and you twist, bucking against him as he says your name over and over again and his hot breath presses into the skin of your sternum like it is the only word he knows, your name. There is much burning- the pain feels exquisite in the way that it twists, sharp suddenly and then easing away into the gentle rock of your hips to get friction on your cock and more, more, more of Hikaru's fingers. More of Hikaru inside of you.
"Fuck, you look so fucking good, Pavel. My fingers inside your tight hole- oh god Pavel." Your only response is to moan, high pitched, and clutch his hair which is messy and perfect and the only anchor your have to a world that isn't Hikaru's fingers so deep inside of you because Hikaru is cursing. He is cursing and he has his fingers inside of you..
The third finger is torture. You are ready and you tell him, openly pleading with moans and arching and he keeps watching your face and then going back to watch his fingers as they slide, pressing against that spot inside of you that makes you gasp, eyes blinking wide at the idea that pleasure as intense and concentrated as this exists.
"Hikaru! Hikaru, now, please- oh Hikaru! Now."
He stares at you. His eyes are so dark as he pushes all three fingers inside of you with a swift thrust, all the way so that you feel the knuckles of his hand when he twists his fingers and it almost makes you come it feels so good. You cry out, "Now you, all of you," as Hikaru stares at you and licks his lips. His face is so red, like the time you saw him at an Academy party and he was drinking wine, laughing with his friends and he waved you over so that you could stare at his Merlot stained lips.
"Please," you say as you trace all the sharp lines on his face with your shaking finger tips. "Please, now. All of you, Hikaru."
He surges forward to kiss you as his hand slips out and you moan at the loss, your hands slipping on his skin as you try to pull him closer in an impossible way. He takes your other leg and slides it over his shoulder. You can feel the muscles of his shoulders underneath your calves as he leans forward and stretches your legs, kissing you and thrusting his cock, hard and leaking and very wide against your own, and it slips and slides as you rut together.
"Pavel," he says just before he pushes in. Your head tips back, the pressure so large inside of you, and Hikaru's hand finds your stomach. He smoothes over the flushed skin there, his thumb grazing your half-hard cock as he pushes and pushes and pushes until he is all the way inside. He is big inside of you. You are stretched and so open and full that it aches in a way you did not think was possible.
"Pavel," Hikaru says and you open your eyes. He hasn't moved, but his face is beautiful as it is twisted up in pleasure, the effort to stay still etched so clearly all over his face. He pants into your mouth until you twist up to kiss him, fucking his mouth with your tongue and slowly rocking your hips, as if you are testing how he feels inside of you. The stretch is not painful any more, the more you rock your hips, the more Hikaru moans, tiny breathless moans into your mouth that make you want it harder and faster. You watch the pleasure on Hikaru's face and clutch him as if he would ever go away.
"Hikaru. Move," you gasp and it's as if he has been waiting for permission to have you. He pulls out slowly and you feel every single inch of his cock as it slides out, the head wide. He never takes his eyes away from you as he slams in, hard enough to make you cry out, your back arching as he finds that spot inside of you that makes you see white and loose all sense that isn't Hikaru. His rhythm is confident and fast and hard. The room fills with your moans- needy and wanton sounds that you will be embarrassed by later, but Hikaru feeds off of them and you listen to the way he moans and whispers nonsense things when he thrusts so deep inside of you, your skin slapping together in such an obscene way. It is too much and you know that you are going to come.
"Hikaru," you moan. Your hands are frantic on his skin as you pull him down to kiss you.
"Pavel."
"Oh, Hikaru," you say as you come with your mouth wide, eyes screwed up in pleasure as it bursts out of you and you can hear yourself speaking nonsense sentences in Russian as you come and come. Hikaru fucks you through your orgasm, until it is almost too painful- the pleasure is searing as he thrusts, loosing his rhythm as he comes too.
You can feel him come inside of you.
"Pavel, oh fuck, Pavel, Pavel, Pavel," he says when he comes, head thrown back and you watch the muscles of his throat flex each time he says your name. And there is no other vision in the galaxy that you are interested in seeing.
He falls on top of you, still inside of you, as you both breathe in shallow, panting breaths. He buries his face in your neck when your legs fall from his shoulders and wrap around his waist, keeping him inside of you even as he softens. You feel him. All of him. You mutter nonsense things to him in Russian. My Hikaru and Thank you for saving me and Yes, this is it. You feel amazing and I don't miss the rain when I'm with you.
You stay tangled together in sweat and come.
Hikaru mouths your name into your neck until you are asleep.
<3<3<3
You wake tangled in a sheet and the comm system is beeping very loudly. But Hikaru is holding onto you so tightly that you cannot move. You do not want to wake him, but you have to because the alarm is annoying.
"Hikaru," you say and push at his shoulder until he groans sleepily and rubs his face against your chest. It is such a wonderful sight, to see him wake up so ungraceful and unlike Lt. Sulu of the U.S.S. Enterprise. You know that these will be your favorite times with him, when he isn't aware of himself, naked and pressed so tightly against you.
"Hi."
"Yeah."
You blush. You feel 14 again, leaving home for Starfleet, and it's giddy and overwhelming and before you know it you are laughing, shaking and clutching at Hikaru's shoulders until he is laughing too, the two of you filling the room with laughter and the sound of the alarm.
"Computer: stop alarm," Hikaru says when he can breathe again and you kiss him lightly. You just press your lips to his and hold them there. You want to memorize this moment. You never want to forget a second of what it going on in your bed.
"Is this okay?" He sounds unsure, but he's still smiling and you blush, smiling back, and nod.
"Da," you say. "Da. This is very much fine."
He kisses you again. It's awkward because you are both smiling and it is more like kissing with teeth, but you don't care.
"Bridge to Chekov."
"Yes," you say and Hikaru taps his fingers across your face, on your nose and your cheek bones. You huff a breathless laugh and try to move away from him, but he is insistent.
"Mr. Scott could use a little pick me up! Mind going down there and lending a helping hand?"
"I can do zat, sir."
"RIGHTO! Kirk out."
Hikaru is still petting your face and you frown.
"What?" you ask.
"Nothing," he says with a smile. "It's just, your freckles."
You blush. You don't know what to say when he looks at you like that. Before, you didn't know what it meant. Now. Now you will not be able to focus at work when he looks at you and he knows he is saving you. So you kiss him and nudge him.
"I have to go."
"Yeah," he says.
"I need to have a shower before helping Mr. Scott."
"Mmmhmm," he hums and he wiggles his hips against yours. You are both half-hard and there is so much joy that it hurts inside your chest.
"Want some help?"
You laugh all the way to the shower until Hikaru joins you and then your mouth is too distracted for much laughing.
<3<3<3
Earth feels good underneath your feet and the first thing you do is take off your shoes and do a lap around the building, calculating how far you have traveled on this crazy trip to get home.
No one told you at the Academy about war. About genocide and revenge. About killing people's mothers. But they also didn't tell you how it would feel when you make it, when you save people and you fall in love with handsome starship pilots. No one at the Academy told you about waking up and smiling into someone's skin.
When you round the building, Hikaru is there talking with the rest of the bridge officers and you smile, taking his hand and you all walk on solid ground, listening to the soon familiar sound of Dr. McCoy and Kirk's bantering.
You press yourself into Hikaru's side and smile.
Comments are where it's at.
Author's name:
loony4lupinWritten for:
phisinfinity Pairing/characters: Sulu/Chekov, minor hints at Spock/Uhura and Bones/Kirk but only in passing.
Rating: NC-17 for sure
Warnings: Sex- underage too in some countries, angst, 2nd person.
Word count: 9Kish
Summary: You're in a car with a beautiful boy, and he won't tell you that he loves you, but he loves you. And you feel like you've done something terrible, like robbed a liquor store, or swallowed pills, or shoveled yourself a grave in the dirt, and you're tired. You're in a car with a beautiful boy, and you're trying not to ell him that you love him, and you're trying to choke down the feeling, and you're trembling, but he reaches over and he touches you, like a prayer for which no words exist, and you feel your heart taking root in your body, lie you've discovered something you don't even have a name for. - Richard Siken, "You are Jeff", Section 24.
Disclaimer: NOT MINE. I'M NOT MAKING ANY MONEY.
Author's Note: I hope you enjoy this! I took these prompts: geeking out, quirks, fluffy stuff, crushing. I hope you are not offened by the 9,000 words in 2nd person. It’s just... Chekov wouldn’t stop. If you don't know who
madeyemax is, then you best get your shit together. She's fabulous and she's my beta. You take a deep breath after you save James T. Kirk and Hikaru Sulu from falling to their deaths on Vulcan and try not to pay too much attention to the way Doctor McCoy sweeps in to check over the two men. You try not to notice how beautiful Lt. Sulu looks with his pupils blown wide and the shaky laughter of relief vibrating through his chest. Instead, you sit and listen to Acting Captain Spock. Watching his particles disappear, reorganizing in a flurry of light, reminds you of your first time being transported. You had a bad feeling then, about failing your Xenolinguistics exam, just like you have a bad feeling now about watching the half-Vulcan go. The planet is disappearing. Doesn't he know that? You can practically feel the pull of red matter. It is illogical, and you know it, but it doesn't stop you from holding onto the panel until the white of your knuckles burns, as if the imploding planet will pull you away at any moment.
You can't take a deep breath after you kill Acting Captain Spock's mother.
You walk out after the Acting Captain but turn at the first available corner. You start to run.
No one told you at Starfleet how is feels to save people. No one at Starfleet ever told you how it feels to have that swooping feeling of gratitude, of the humble feeling of knowing your fingers, your mind can be trusted- no one told you how that feels to be taken away with such force; like when you leave someone's mother to tumble off the cliff of an imploding planet. No one told you and you hate to be unprepared. You hate to be a disappointment. You hate the look on the Acting Captain's face, his fingers outstretched to catch the particles of his mother that you couldn't hold on to. You lost her.
You have nowhere to go. You're on a Federation vessel. There is no dirt to kick up beneath your shoes or grass to crush in bright green stains on the undersides of your trainers. There is no air scented of pine and cedar to breath into your lungs. There is only blinding white light and the image of their faces, so many faces rematerializing on the transporter platform. Faces of relief. Faces of despair. Faces of panic. Faces of resignation.
You wonder what your face looks like.
You're only been back on the bridge for five minutes before Lt. Sulu returns. Something thick and watery swells up in your throat and threatens to spill out all over him. You take a deep breath and refuse to watch as he quickly dismisses Jensen and slips into the pilot chair. He winces. You close your eyes and do the gravity calculations that saved his life in you head. It makes it more real. Real enough for you to beat away the need to touch him, to trace the features of his face, littered with cuts and lingering bruises that will bloom in the night when you are elsewhere.
When he smiles at you, you ignore the fact that it feels like it’s just for you. He does not love you. He does not ache to touch you. He is grateful for your hands and your calculations that saved his life. You are grateful too. But you know that your gratitude and his are two very different emotions.
You've only been back on the bridge for twenty minutes when Kirk gets thrown bodily from the ship. You watch his vitals as the pod launches into the atmosphere. The steady thump of his heart beat underneath your fingers on the console is strangely comforting. You agree with Kirk. You like Kirk. It is strange because you know Acting Captain Spock is correct in his assumptions, but it doesn't stop you from wanting to do the right thing. The insubordination feels foreign underneath your skin and you do calculations again and again as you feel Lt. Sulu tense next to you. You want to move your chair closer to his and let him know that yes, you too feel the urge to hack in the system and reprogram the projectile pod so that it carries James T. Kirk back to the Enterprise, back where he belongs.
Instead, you try to catch his eye. He is too busy watching the movement of the Acting Captain and the irate CMO. You like the sound of the CMO's voice. It is nothing like home, but his emotion is clear and vivid in your mind as it slips and slides in his specific dialect.
Lt. Sulu does not look away until you are on the two hundredth digit of pi and when he makes eye contact with you, you forget to hide your smile and he cocks his head in question until you blush and look away. He is not yours, you remind yourself. Lt. Sulu belongs to no one but the Enterprise.
"Ensign Chekov,” Acting Captain Spock says, “approximate time of arrival in-"
"Two hours, three minutes and forty three point zero seven seconds," you say, practically cutting the Acting Captain off and you feel shame burn. You are too young to be here. You are too inadequate. You killed his mother.
You check the course once again in your embarrassment, and both Lt. Sulu and the Acting Captain are looking at you. The shallow breaths you take as you count the stars the ship passes don't feel right and your chest is tight with the tension of the bridge and all that has happened. Your mind wanders to your fellow cadets, their bodies floating in space around the black hole of Vulcan (Are they in another reality now? One where someone saved them?) and you close your eyes tight for three point four seconds before the screen in front of you blurs into focus and your hands stop trembling.
It is okay. Lt. Sulu saved you all with his mistake, a few seconds wherein he smiled at you in an embarrassed sort of way that made you grin, wide and unashamed of what you felt for him. He did not look away then. And when you followed him into warp, Captain Pike solid and comforting behind you, you thought you had followed him into something else as well. Something like the trembling of your hands and the swell of your heart when Lt. Sulu smiled. You are a fool.
You feel the Acting Captain's gaze move off of you, but Lt. Sulu's remains. You are unsure of whether this hurts or comforts you. You know it is sharp and sends shivers down your spine as you focus on the feeling of the console beneath your fingers and the space stretched out before you in need of navigation.
You are relieved of your post for an hour. The CMO does not listen to your protests, they were weak at best, as he uses a tricorder on you and practically marches you to your quarters. You know this is him worrying for James T. Kirk, and the displacement of his feelings of letting his friend be launched away from the ship. You feel less alone.
"Please return in an hour, you are necessary to the bridge," the Acting Captain says without a trace of emotion. You nod.
"Get your ass out of that chair, kid," are the only words the CMO says to you before dumping you into your quarters and locking you in. You could reprogram the door's control panel, if you really wanted to. But something about the CMO without the comforting presence of Kirk stops you from even considering it. You know them. From the academy. And they act strangely without one another- as if they are each other's phantom limbs.
You know Lt. Sulu from the Academy as well. The memories rush through you and you feel the air suction out of your body, leaving you staggering back towards your bed to collapse in a heap. It only takes you a few moments to recognize that the bed you have landed on is not your bed at all, but your roommate's, your accidental roommate.
You blush. It was not accidental at all that you were paired with Lt. Sulu, who should have gotten his own quarters but had mysterious been placed with you as a result of a computer glitch that was supposed to be dealt with as soon as they had figured out what was wrong with Vulcan. It seemed trivial now. But as you turn your head into Lt. Sulu's pillow and inhale, you are grateful you modified the sleeping arrangements to allow for this small measure of comfort.
You and Lt. Sulu had been in the same class. The class before most of the cadets on the Enterprise. You had transferred from the Russian Starfleet base when you were 15. Just two years ago, but it seems like so much longer. You have grown so much and seen too much- but felt too little in Russia and the transfer to America had been welcome. It was something your mother always said: "Oh my Pavel, you think so much! You see and know so much! But you feel too little, my Pasha. Too little."
And it was true, what your mother had said. It was true until you met Hikaru Sulu and you suddenly felt too much.
You had transferred in the middle of fall term. The days were both cool and warm but not natural for you and the heat of the uniforms made you cranky. Walking across to the Course Enrollment Office was a necessary evil because all your classes were too easy. You had only been there two days but you knew they were too easy and you felt mean answering all the questions, like you were showing off, and antsy when people looked at you with disdain, like you asked to be intelligent. Like you asked for your Russian tutors to push you into advanced warp theory when you were thirteen. So you skipped lunch and hurried across the campus, trying to look as small as possible to the students around you. It wasn't as if they were mean to you. They just looked at you as if you didn't belong. And you knew you didn't. In St. Petersburg, the Starfleet base was small and there were more than a few kids your age. None of them were as advanced as you, but still, they did not look at you as if you had Centorian Leprosy when you set the curve at the hundredth percentile.
You did not meet Lt. Sulu that day. But you did see him.
It must have been his off period, the way he laid stretched underneath a tree reading a book. His skin practically glowed in the sunlight that filtered through the leaves and it was the patch of skin reveal by his rumpled shirt that made you stop and stare. He was so relaxed, at ease with everyone around him when people walked by and nodded a hello, reminding him of a study group or of a fencing lesson. He smiled easily but didn't linger to talk with anyone, just turned back to his book with his lips lifted into a smile that barely revealed the whiteness of his teeth and the pout of his bottom lip.
You felt so much in those few moments you allowed yourself to stare, that it lingered long after, giving you the confidence to take the placement tests and coincidentally place you in almost all of Lt. Sulu's classes for the rest of the term.
Feeling too much became such a constant in those terms. You still feel it now, in every moment you sit next to him on the bridge, sharing a console and a room with him. You want so badly to touch him, to circle your hands around his strong wrists or comb your hands through his unruly hair. And yet, you are all at war with what feels like the entire galaxy and it does not leave time for romance or feeling too much. Times like these are for people like Comm- Acting Captain Spock, who can smooth out the complexities of feeling into fact. Or for brave people like James T. Kirk and Doctor McCoy, who do not look at the space around them with fear, but with possibility and solution.
It is not a place for you, you think as you clutch at Lt. Su- at Hikaru's pillow. It is not a place for dreamers or romantics or for feeling too much for someone who feels little for small, Russian "whiz-kids" that cannot save everyone.
You sob. It is loud in the empty room, both of your things left unpacked in the emergency. But you sob without tears until you can breath again and lull yourself to sleep for the remaining thirty minutes.
You are too in awe of the jumps in transwarp beaming to fully process anything. This Montgomery Scott is a genius and you want so badly to be nearer to him. To get him a towel and anything that might make him tell you how. It isn't until Acting Captain has his fingers pressing holes into Kirk's neck that you gasp, suddenly coming aware of the mutiny on the bridge, and unconsciously grab Lt. Sulu's wrist. He feels warm underneath the dip between your thumb and pointer finger. Your fingertips burn brightly against his skin, your temperature rising so quickly as Kirk gasps for air and part of you wants Hikaru to make it all stop, to save lives you couldn't, but you do not let go. It could be fear, it could be want, but you can't draw you eyes away from the two waring bodies to look at Hikaru.
"Spock!"
Sarek's voice cuts through Commander Spock's mind, and possibly his emotions, methodically and slowly and you can feel Spock's brain working, so much like yours, so unused to feeling so much- feeling too much until it registers to both of you; to Spock that he is killing someone because he feels too much, and to you that you are still holding Hik- Lt. Sulu's wrist so tightly that it will probably bruise. You both draw your hands back.
You are extremely jealous when Commander Spock gets to leave the room where you still sit, staring at the winded form of Kirk and ignoring the way Lt. Sulu is staring at your blushing face. You feel so hot that your skin might explode and you want so badly to run, to run so fast that you reach warp and leave the Enterprise and go back to Russia. You want to tell yourself that this is because you can not handle war like this- between hurting Vulcans and desperate men. But you know it is at least partly because of Lt. Sulu’s smile and the way you know it is probably placating and tolerant, not encouraging and hopeful as you would like to think they are.
"Pike made Kirk first officer."
You automatically look at Lt. Sulu and you feel your eyes widen. No. There is no time to think foolish thoughts about going back home, Kirk is captain now and he will take care of everything. They will save the world. They will save the people that you can not save on your own. Lt. Sulu has made sure of this.
You feel relief and a sense of undeniable affection when Captain James T. Kirk turns to you to set the course for Earth.
"Chekov, tell me how we can get there before they do."
You frown, all thoughts of Lt. Sulu slipping from your mind as numbers swarm in droves and it feels good. It feels safe and just enough to make you feel like Pavel again. You don't even mind it when five minutes later, CMO McCoy mocks your age when you are sure, beyond all doubt, that you were doing complex mathematical equations before the doctor had even entered medical school. It is okay though, you think when Spock appears on the bridge, because things feel right. Even the panels underneath your fingers feel like they belong to you now and this sets a calm over you. It makes you want to talk. It makes you want to Conn the whole ship and say, "Da. Everything is alright now. Do not panic."
Instead, you set in your calculations and wait for Saturn to appear.
Twenty minutes later CMO McCoy is looking down at you in a way that makes you fidget with your hair and glance down at your fingers until you almost send the Enterprise to the ninth moon of Clenda IV.
"Hey kid," he says as he leans against your chair and cocks an eyebrow. You feel as if you are going to be scolded, but then his face seems to relax. You stop gripping the console so hard.
"Yes, Doctor?"
"I know you haven't eaten, which can't be good for your seventeen-year-ol' growin' body. Why don't you go grab us all some sandwiches?"
You nod. It is not something you should be doing. It is something Security would do for the bridge in moments of crisis. But you need to stretch your legs and so you hurry away, grateful that the doctor has noticed your fidgeting. Lt. Sulu's eyes follow you on your way out but you make no indication that you know. He is not worried about you. He is worried that you will not perform admirably.
It is hard to think sometimes, when Hikaru is so close to you and usually you have time to go back to your room to sleep- to recharge from being around him so long like you did at the Academy. But you have not really been able to today. Today, you saved his life and had no time to tell yourself that he does not want you like you want him, that you imagine everything between the two of you because you feel and want too much.
You ask for too much too.
Soon, you will return to the bridge and ask Lt. Sulu to catch them up to the Narada in a very tricky move that has many variables of failure. Spock confirmed your statistics.
You order too many sandwiches to carry and recruit Ensign Andrews from Engineering (you also taught his Intermediate Astrophysics class at the Academy) to help you carry them to the Bridge. You accidentally give Lt. Sulu his favorite without him asking and you can't move your eyes away fast enough when he raises both of his eyebrows as he takes the first bite.
You squeeze your sandwich too hard and get tuna salad and crumbs all over the console.
"Alright. Well."
It is all the captain says when the ship practically powers down in the middle of space. You stare out into the darkness. You want to leap into Hikaru’s lap. You know that the glances he has been sharing with you, the smiles, the sheer look of gratitude is nothing but it doesn’t feel like nothing at this very moment when you have both saved three of the bravest people in the whole of the galaxy.
"First thing is first. Commander Spock can you report with all decks to check on damages?"
"Indeed, sir."
"I want a body count as well."
The turbolift closes with a nod of First Officer Spock's head. The bridge is silent. Your mind feels so intensely full; of the way Hikaru launched them after the Narada and the CMO's voice as he gave a tentative report before he disappeared into surgery, words like permanent paralysis and extensive sensory nerve damage. You think about Montgomery Scott beaming two people from different locations, different gravities, different calculations onto one platform. You think of how time is a fickle thing and have an unexplainable urge not only to crawl into Hikaru's lap but to kiss his face and tell him that you are grateful (Are there no more words for this feeling inside of you?) that he exists in your timeline- in this universe. You resist the urge only when tasked with figuring exactly where in space they had warped into.
"Bridge to Engineering."
"Bloody fuck," comes the crackled response and you laugh inappropriately. "Sorry 'bout that, Captain Jim! We're in a wee spot o' bother down here. Not to worry. Not to worry. YOU! DO NOT TOUCH THAT, YOU NANCY FUCK!"
You laugh again and Lt. Sulu looks at you in alarm. The captain giggles behind you. It must be the stress. Or the almost dying. Or Lt. Sulu’s bruises. Or... you know, just about anything else.
"How's it look about getting us home?" asks the captain.
"Earth? Well, if you're lookin' for tha' miracle, Captain, then I'd say... oh, a week or two. Unless you've somehow figured a way to harness all the energy of that wee navigator up there!"
You blush. Mr. Scott must have noticed the way you were practically vibrating in your seat about the transwarp beaming, or maybe the captain told him. You wonder if Hikaru noticed too. This thought makes you blush further.
"In my defense, Keptain," you hear yourself saying, "transwarp beaming is a dream in numbers, complicated equations upon equations of-"
"Chekov, there is no need to explain your inappropriate love of math," the captain says to you before winking. Your face is beet-red and you wonder, desperately, what Hikaru is thinking. You want so badly to be away from him right now. You are running on too little sleep to hide from him. You need time away from him. At the same time, he feels so comforting next to you. Like he would take on the whole of the galaxy with just his fencing to protect you. It is all in your head, these feelings from Hikaru, but it soothes the embarrassment just a bit.
"Get us home as fast as you can. Any way we can help?"
"Aye! Power down all lights, anythin' ya won't be needin'."
"Affirmative. Kirk out."
The captain laughs a bit, before speaking with a few more people. You glance at Hikaru out of the corner of your eye. He is smiling, staring in to the vast expanse of space and smiling.
"Bridge to Sickbay."
"Dammit, Jim, I'm busy."
This time Lt. Uhura laughs first and you follow her, Lt. Sulu giggles breathlessly and you grow half hard in your regulation trousers. It feels surreal. To be alive, when so many are dead, and still wanting someone so much. It feels strange to still be this focused on something so trivial as love or hand holding or the smell of Hikau's pillow. And yet, here you are, half hard and wanting at a little breathless laughter.
"Too busy for me, Bonesy?"
"You're the damn captain, Jim. Get your shit together and act like it. I've got people to save. I'm a doctor, not a miracle worker. Bones ou- Dammit, Jim! McCoy out."
Everyone laughs. It's a bit manic. You all know that the reason the doctor is busy is because so many are dead or injured or missing, but there is security in his answer, gruff and stressed and still treating the captain like he's a little boy. It makes the bridge breathe a little, you can practically feel the room relax around you and you take a deep breath with it, thinking about how the Enterprise looks from the outside, bruised and broken but still humming with energy and the steady breath of the bridge, strong and silent.
Forty-five minutes later you are all replaced on the bridge. It takes a lot of effort to find people to replace everyone, but the good doctor is ordering five-hour shifts of sleep for everyone. You are the first to go. You have already plugged in the coordinates to home and tracked the sequence to avoid anything that might slow down an already damaged and slow-moving ship. Your work is done. In fact, you even found a passing nebula that might gain the ship a day or two. Whoever takes your place just needs to sit and watch the stars.
"Just don't... touch... anything. You'll do it wrong,” is what you mumble to your replacement, who you are sure actually works in the janitorial department, before you leave the bridge with heavy footsteps. You are suddenly so exhausted.
You're in your quarters and asleep on the nearest bed without a trace of thought.
You are a light sleeper. This mostly comes from the academy, when you spent most of your time afraid that someone would play pranks on you in your sleep. They never did anything extreme, especially after you started teaching classes. But they would do small things, like reprogram the computer to disrupt your alarm and make you late to class or pile things in front of your door for you to fall or step into. You sleep light on the Enterprise because space is exciting and scary and war is loud in the silence of victory.
The door opens with a soft swoosh and you listen to the soft pad of Hikaru's shoes. You know you are tense and awake, but your mind feels like spider webs in the early morning, as if everything is wet and soft and sleepy. You do not move from your position, curled on your side and trembling underneath the blanket you managed to pull over you in the few minutes or hours you've been sleeping. The sound of Hikaru undressing is absent tonight. There are no sounds of him going through his usual routine, bathroom for a real shower and not a sonic one, water his plants, reading his personal messages from his family- you have only seen him do the routine a few times, but Lt. Sulu seeps into Hikaru at times when you know he isn't looking and routine is something you hate in your life but love in Hikaru.
Instead there is a dip in the mattress and you want badly to turn over into the pressure of Hikaru climbing into your bed, but you don't, you turn your head into the pillow and inhale Hikaru.
Oh.
You make a panicked sound in the back of your throat, sleepy still, but urgent, and try to turn over, but Hikaru is there. You swallow your apology for accidentally falling asleep in his bed when his arms encase you. He curls around you like warm stone, strong and confident. You sigh, but it sounds more like a whimper when your legs tangle with his, both still clad in regulation trousers.
"Go back to sleep, Pavel."
His voice is deep and tired but warm with affection when it envelops your name and your heart rate speeds to the point you think it might leap out of your chest and into the hand that is curled against your stomach. You think that this should feel like something different, like leaping off a cliff or drinking too much vodka. But it just feels like Hikaru closing his eyes wrapped around you. You think you should feel victory in confirmation of the small electric moments between the two of you. But all you feel is Hikaru.
"Sleep, Pavel."
You concentrate on the steady, slow beats of Hikaru's heart against your back and the way he buries his face in the curve of your neck, wet puffs of air on your skin and sweeping into your curls as if he is claiming them with each breath. It makes your heart flutter in the pace it keeps but the solid presence of Hikaru’s hand on your chest anchors you, his heart’s rhythm heavy and solid behind you, until you drift into a dreamless sleep.
You're alone when you wake, but it doesn't take long for you to roll into the space Hikaru occupied last night and press your face into his pillow. It smells of the bridge and of sweat. There are faint traces of oil and dirt and Hikaru's fencing gear and it makes you smile into the pillow, your cock half-hard in your regulation trousers. You flush, arousal and embarrassment heating through you in licks of flame, but it doesn't stop you from inhaling deeply of Hikaru's pillow and slowly pushing your hips into the firm mattress.
You let yourself indulge, in such a moment of relief, in the thought of sitting at the helm beside Lt. Sulu, fingers drifting in sync with his strong and capable hands, and the way the lieutenant smothers his toast in layers of raspberry marmalade and margarine.
You are not surprised when your hips grind in rhythmic movements against the sheets, your half-hard morning erection quickly rising in the small moment of jubilee that you allow yourself to think about in the shadow of everything that has happened, that you are both alive and what that might mean. You whine into the pillow, hips moving frantically into the firm mattress below you and the smell of Hikaru everywhere. Your mind rapidly brings up images of the easy smile that Lt. Sulu will give you when you return to the bridge or the way Hikaru had pressed his cold nose into the nape of your neck last night or how Hikaru's face will look as he docks the ship at Earth, easy grace and moving confidence. You imagine how his skin will look in the sun of Earth; sweat gleaming on his smooth, olive skin when he takes off his gold shirt and smiles, wide and open and-
You think about days you will live to stroke hands on your cock in needy jerks while thinking of Hikaru's cock deep inside of you and the way Hikaru would say your name, hot and breathy in the shell of your ear- like last night, pressed so tightly against your back in the darkness of your room. Your orgasm takes you by surprise and you choke off a cry of Hikaru into the pillow as you come in frantic jerks of your slim hips, coating the inside of your briefs and twisting the base of your spine in a pleasure that blooms hot white.
You sigh, feeling silly for masturbating to Hikaru's pillow and slightly delirious with hunger before you rise and make your way to the sonic shower before venturing to the replicator. It is too early for the mess hall. You stuff your soiled briefs down the laundry shoot with cheeks tinged with embarrassment. The linens follow- just in case, because the thought of Hikaru sleeping on the sheets you came on is too much for your brain.
You layer your toast with butter and marmalade and pretend it does not remind you of Hikaru's body against yours.
The turbo lift is empty as you make your way up to the bridge. It is also dark. Everything is almost pitch black so that all the extra power can be pushed to Engineering. You are practically vibrating with excitement. Will Hikaru look at you different as you share the console? Will he give you tiny smiles or casual brushes of his fingertips against yours? You wish so deeply to know what he was thinking last night when he climbed into bed with you. Was he just comforting you? The thoughts twist and coil in your stomach and worry bubbles up everywhere. Does he know about your silly infatuation that is growing rapidly into something bigger and scarier? Was he simply indulging you as a favor to the captain so that you would not loose your mind and he would have a solid navigator to get them home?
"Bridge to Chekov."
"Yes, Keptain," you stammer as your heart beats fast and irregular in your minor panic. You think about smiles and Academy days where he would sit next to you at meals, come to you without a trace of embarassment for help on assignments- you think about the way his lashes fluttered against your skin and you doubt every single moment of them.
"No need to report here. I'm gonna head to my quarters-"
"Dammit Jim, stop chattering away at the boy and just tell him what to do. You're wastin' my time."
“Bones. I will go to bed as soon as I'm done. You don't have to hover."
"I'm not hovering, you damn invalid."
You stifle a laugh and clear your throat.
"Sir?"
"Sorry, Chekov. Bones is a little moody today."
"Yes, sir."
"Head down to Engineering. Mr. Scott needs some help- even if he won't admit it."
"Yes, sir."
"I'M GOING BONES! Stop being so grabby. Or actually, be a little bit more grabby, you naughty doctor!"
"Kirk out," comes the growled out response from the CMO over the comm.
You count digits of pi as you get off the turbolift and walk down the hall. People are everywhere, looking busy and worried but tinged with relief. You want to look busy too, so you rush by, the many digits of pi rolling in your head like the domes of buildings back home. When you arrive, you feel frantic. The place is a mess of wires and sparks. But the smell of metal and the hum of the gently pulsating warp core burrows inside of you in a different way, settling in the bend of your elbow, the dip in your collar bone and the hollow of your spine until you are gently humming and making your way towards Mr. Scott.
Numbers sooth away any other thoughts. other thoughts of Hikaru, as your mind gets tangled inside the Enterprise.
You are exhausted. And hungry as well. But food can wait because your knees are so sore, as is your back and neck and many muscles you forgot you had, from bending under consoles and squirming your way into Jeffries tubes all day long. Yet you feel satisfied; your brain has been worked, your fingers utilized and your heart calmed by the gentle lull of the Enterprise's own beating heart.
Tonight, you don't make the mistake of choosing the wrong bed. Last night was just a mistake. The quarters are dark, just the way you left them, and a ping of disappointment rushes through your chest. Lt. Sulu's bed is still mussed, the top blanket haphazardly strewn across the bottom and the top covers wrinkled. But it has no trace of the two of you. If you hadn't been there, hadn't felt him pressed against you, then you could have looked at the bed and deduced that Lt. Sulu had come back to quarters for a nap.
Yes. Lt. Sulu.
The sonic shower is quick and efficient over your skin, dispelling any lingering grime from the Engineering decks. Thankfully, the shower doesn't take away the hum of the warp core. You are grateful for this and dress in a pair of sleep pants that sit low on your hips. You scowl as you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. You look thin- too thin and the unnatural light of the ship does nothing for your palllor. Hikaru would never want you. You are a scrawny boy; nothing like the man that Hikaru is. That Lt. Sulu is.
Your bed feels too large for your body and you dream about swimming in a sea of covers, the soft regulation-blue cotton in waves around you, pushing against your skin and letting you skim over the top until the wave crashes and you are floating again, underneath the suffocating cotton.
You dream of walking barefoot on cobblestones.
You don't wake up quickly. Not today. The world is heavy around you and comfortably warm.
There is something about the weight of another person. It feels like nothing else- it is specific, whether you've felt their weight before or not, but people feel different, their bodies molding and shifting in ways they don't realize as they settle in unconsciousness. It fascinates you enough to not panic when you feel the weight, instead you contemplate the weight of people, of what they carry. You don't want to open your eyes. There are only a few people who could have let themselves into your room. Doctor McCoy has a medical override code, but something about him tells you that he is not a cuddler. Captain Kirk has an override code as well, but as much as you know the captain has affection for you, crawling into your bed seems a breach of regulation.
Mr. Scott could easily hack into your room. Mr. Spock is too... logical? Polite? Plus, it is rumored that he and Lt. Uhura share beds.
"Pavel, stop thinking so loudly," comes a sleepy voice from somewhere in the vicinity of your neck and you think that maybe it is true because you did not even think about Hikaru, your roommate coming in and climbing into bed with you.
"I apologize, Mister Sulu."
He puffs laughter into your neck and you relax, letting out a breath you had not known you were holding. Your muscles go back to being boneless and enjoying the feeling of Hikaru, a warm weight, pressing into you from all sides. You ignore the need to know what this means and just enjoy it.
"I think maybe it's best if you call me Hikaru."
"Hikaru," you practically whisper. It sounds so different out loud and you let it roll around on your tongue for a moment as you categorize the sleepy shift of Hikaru's body atop your own, the press of his nose into your jaw, the ghost of his breath drawing goosebumps on your skin and the lazy way his hand traces the crease of your elbow. It is only then do you notice that it is morning and you are most definitely awake in ways that most seventeen-year-old men are awake. The hot blush is fast on your face and you wish that your positions were reversed so you could bury your head in Hikaru's neck.
"Although, if you're going to say it like that all time- you should probably just call me that in private."
"In what way, Hikaru?" You squirm a bit away from him in a effort to conceal your erection. You are not sure what this is, this sleeping in each others' beds, but you know that you do not want it to stop. Even if it is just kinship between you and Hikaru.
"Like it's a dirty word."
You choke back a moan. Hikaru shouldn't be allowed to say words like dirty because your body automatically goes places it shouldn't go- especially when you can actually feel the smooth expanse of olive skin pressed against your own, leaning into you like it wants to be discovered and mapped out like the stars you chart. You wiggle again because if you're still enough you can imagine the press of Hikaru's lips to your neck and it's making you hard, so hard and wanting that you can barely focus. And then your universe just seems to spin out of control when Hikaru shifts, hips pressing into yours when he leans up onto his elbows. You squeeze your eyes tight, face red and embarrassed as your cock presses into Hikaru's hip and he's staring, you can feel it, and if you open your eyes the galaxy feels like it will just unhinge and fly apart right here, in your room.
You are so embarrassed that you don't notice that Hikaru's hard too, the firm definition of his cock pressing into your boney hip with a tiny rocking motion, until he whispers, "Pavel," and then it's one of the only things you can feel. Unlike your hands and your left foot, because Hikaru is cutting off the circulation with his rocking hips.
You pry open your eyes. He face is so close to yours. He looks confident and easygoing and you can not imagine how. Your heart is beating so fast in your chest and you feel like you’r on the cusp of something huge- blindingly huge, but you cannot put a name to the way you are feeling.
"What are we doing," you ask in a whisper that sounds garbled by the thickness of your accent. Hikaru just smiles. Not the smile that he smiles on the bridge, when the captain makes a joke. No, this smile is different. It's confident and sexy and curious. And it fucking stops your heart.
"You have freckles on your nose," he says in a whisper back, his smile making tiny inflections in his voice. "Why didn't I notice that before?"
You don't have time to answer because Hikaru is pressing his lips, his very soft and very full lips, against your own and the galaxy doesn't unhinge but it certainly feels as though it does. He kisses you with parted lips that make a small sound as they press together in soft, teasing motions that have you arching into Hikaru's mouth and whimpering. It is as if that noise, the way it is wrenched out of you, awakens something in Hikaru that takes soft, teasing kisses and blows them open. His mouth is hot and wet and open on the next kiss, his hands threaded through your curls and tugging until he slants your mouth and takes your body hostage with his tongue. You moan loudly into his mouth as you cling to him, your body melting into all of his demands as he thrusts his tongue along your own.
You break apart for air and you hate it. You hate it and you wonder if you will ever be able to go a minute without the feel of Hikaru's mouth on yours. It is a silly thought but it is the only thought you have before you moan again, "Hikaru" slipping off your tongue and this time, yes, it is a dirty word.
He responds by practically growling and diving for your neck. You arch, your hips rubbing desperately against his stomach looking for more friction, more Hikaru pressed into your neck with sloppy kisses and direct bites into your skin that you know will bloom purple and yellow bruises that will peak above your collar. The thought of someone seeing them and knowing that you are Hikaru's is a thought that has you moaning and clutching at Hikaru's hair- which is too long and that will have to be cut soon. That thought seems like an outrage and you tug on it, as if claiming it in that moment- when Hikaru bites down on a spot behind your ear and you keen, pressing against him and coming so suddenly that you shout, your hips pumping desperately against Hikaru's body.
"Pavel," he says and you open your eyes to find Hikaru watching you with wide eyes and bruised lips. You want to bury your face in the pillow. You came so fast. Your body is still shaking from the force of your orgasm, but your sleep pants are sticky and uncomfortable and Hikaru's gaze is making you squirm.
"Did you just come?"
You nod because you can't deny it, because Hikaru is palming your half-hard cock through your damp pants with such fascination and satisfaction that it's making you hard again. And suddenly Hikaru is moaning, pulling off your pants and lapping at your hips. The reality of Hikaru licking come off your skin is shocking and so insanely hot that your mind explodes a little and you loose time in the pleasure of Hikaru's tongue lapping at your skin and the way he moans, deep and low that you can feel the vibrations of it all around you.
"Hikaru, Hikaru," is all you can say. Broken patterns of his name as he works his shirt off and you see miles of skin that you can only barely touch, it stretches out like the digits of pi- intangible and endless. He feels so far away from you as you trace over his shoulders and your fingers linger in his hair as he finishes devouring your seed-soaked skin. "Hikaru- I need... oh Hikaru."
It seems he knows exactly what you need even if you don't, because you are lost in the pleasure that this is happening. That this is real. That you are both alive. That you are both breathing in the same recirculated air and that you are both going home. You think that maybe Hikaru is your new home when he nods his head to your pleas and you both work at getting rid of clothes. You keep getting distracted by all his skin, it is tan and smooth underneath your fingers and you keep finding tiny patches that you have to kiss and it generally slows down the process, slows down whatever Hikaru was hurtling you towards.
His kisses are maddening; slow and deep and you press up against him, his whole body warm and there is so much skin that you gasp, panting into his ear and tugging on his body with so much need running through you that you have no idea what you want. But Hikaru knows. You don't know where the lube comes from since you keep Hikaru pressed up against you, lips on his skin, sucking on his tongue until he moans, bucking down against your aching cock. But somehow there is lube, probably from your night stand, but it doesn't matter because he's pressing, pressing, pressing into you with one slick finger and it's a tight fit that makes you squirm down onto his finger for more.
"Pavel, oh fuck Pavel, Pavel, Pavel," he says with his forehead against your chest as he raises your leg to his shoulder. He is watching as he presses his finger inside of you, tenderly but with so much intent he slips a second finger inside and you twist, bucking against him as he says your name over and over again and his hot breath presses into the skin of your sternum like it is the only word he knows, your name. There is much burning- the pain feels exquisite in the way that it twists, sharp suddenly and then easing away into the gentle rock of your hips to get friction on your cock and more, more, more of Hikaru's fingers. More of Hikaru inside of you.
"Fuck, you look so fucking good, Pavel. My fingers inside your tight hole- oh god Pavel." Your only response is to moan, high pitched, and clutch his hair which is messy and perfect and the only anchor your have to a world that isn't Hikaru's fingers so deep inside of you because Hikaru is cursing. He is cursing and he has his fingers inside of you..
The third finger is torture. You are ready and you tell him, openly pleading with moans and arching and he keeps watching your face and then going back to watch his fingers as they slide, pressing against that spot inside of you that makes you gasp, eyes blinking wide at the idea that pleasure as intense and concentrated as this exists.
"Hikaru! Hikaru, now, please- oh Hikaru! Now."
He stares at you. His eyes are so dark as he pushes all three fingers inside of you with a swift thrust, all the way so that you feel the knuckles of his hand when he twists his fingers and it almost makes you come it feels so good. You cry out, "Now you, all of you," as Hikaru stares at you and licks his lips. His face is so red, like the time you saw him at an Academy party and he was drinking wine, laughing with his friends and he waved you over so that you could stare at his Merlot stained lips.
"Please," you say as you trace all the sharp lines on his face with your shaking finger tips. "Please, now. All of you, Hikaru."
He surges forward to kiss you as his hand slips out and you moan at the loss, your hands slipping on his skin as you try to pull him closer in an impossible way. He takes your other leg and slides it over his shoulder. You can feel the muscles of his shoulders underneath your calves as he leans forward and stretches your legs, kissing you and thrusting his cock, hard and leaking and very wide against your own, and it slips and slides as you rut together.
"Pavel," he says just before he pushes in. Your head tips back, the pressure so large inside of you, and Hikaru's hand finds your stomach. He smoothes over the flushed skin there, his thumb grazing your half-hard cock as he pushes and pushes and pushes until he is all the way inside. He is big inside of you. You are stretched and so open and full that it aches in a way you did not think was possible.
"Pavel," Hikaru says and you open your eyes. He hasn't moved, but his face is beautiful as it is twisted up in pleasure, the effort to stay still etched so clearly all over his face. He pants into your mouth until you twist up to kiss him, fucking his mouth with your tongue and slowly rocking your hips, as if you are testing how he feels inside of you. The stretch is not painful any more, the more you rock your hips, the more Hikaru moans, tiny breathless moans into your mouth that make you want it harder and faster. You watch the pleasure on Hikaru's face and clutch him as if he would ever go away.
"Hikaru. Move," you gasp and it's as if he has been waiting for permission to have you. He pulls out slowly and you feel every single inch of his cock as it slides out, the head wide. He never takes his eyes away from you as he slams in, hard enough to make you cry out, your back arching as he finds that spot inside of you that makes you see white and loose all sense that isn't Hikaru. His rhythm is confident and fast and hard. The room fills with your moans- needy and wanton sounds that you will be embarrassed by later, but Hikaru feeds off of them and you listen to the way he moans and whispers nonsense things when he thrusts so deep inside of you, your skin slapping together in such an obscene way. It is too much and you know that you are going to come.
"Hikaru," you moan. Your hands are frantic on his skin as you pull him down to kiss you.
"Pavel."
"Oh, Hikaru," you say as you come with your mouth wide, eyes screwed up in pleasure as it bursts out of you and you can hear yourself speaking nonsense sentences in Russian as you come and come. Hikaru fucks you through your orgasm, until it is almost too painful- the pleasure is searing as he thrusts, loosing his rhythm as he comes too.
You can feel him come inside of you.
"Pavel, oh fuck, Pavel, Pavel, Pavel," he says when he comes, head thrown back and you watch the muscles of his throat flex each time he says your name. And there is no other vision in the galaxy that you are interested in seeing.
He falls on top of you, still inside of you, as you both breathe in shallow, panting breaths. He buries his face in your neck when your legs fall from his shoulders and wrap around his waist, keeping him inside of you even as he softens. You feel him. All of him. You mutter nonsense things to him in Russian. My Hikaru and Thank you for saving me and Yes, this is it. You feel amazing and I don't miss the rain when I'm with you.
You stay tangled together in sweat and come.
Hikaru mouths your name into your neck until you are asleep.
You wake tangled in a sheet and the comm system is beeping very loudly. But Hikaru is holding onto you so tightly that you cannot move. You do not want to wake him, but you have to because the alarm is annoying.
"Hikaru," you say and push at his shoulder until he groans sleepily and rubs his face against your chest. It is such a wonderful sight, to see him wake up so ungraceful and unlike Lt. Sulu of the U.S.S. Enterprise. You know that these will be your favorite times with him, when he isn't aware of himself, naked and pressed so tightly against you.
"Hi."
"Yeah."
You blush. You feel 14 again, leaving home for Starfleet, and it's giddy and overwhelming and before you know it you are laughing, shaking and clutching at Hikaru's shoulders until he is laughing too, the two of you filling the room with laughter and the sound of the alarm.
"Computer: stop alarm," Hikaru says when he can breathe again and you kiss him lightly. You just press your lips to his and hold them there. You want to memorize this moment. You never want to forget a second of what it going on in your bed.
"Is this okay?" He sounds unsure, but he's still smiling and you blush, smiling back, and nod.
"Da," you say. "Da. This is very much fine."
He kisses you again. It's awkward because you are both smiling and it is more like kissing with teeth, but you don't care.
"Bridge to Chekov."
"Yes," you say and Hikaru taps his fingers across your face, on your nose and your cheek bones. You huff a breathless laugh and try to move away from him, but he is insistent.
"Mr. Scott could use a little pick me up! Mind going down there and lending a helping hand?"
"I can do zat, sir."
"RIGHTO! Kirk out."
Hikaru is still petting your face and you frown.
"What?" you ask.
"Nothing," he says with a smile. "It's just, your freckles."
You blush. You don't know what to say when he looks at you like that. Before, you didn't know what it meant. Now. Now you will not be able to focus at work when he looks at you and he knows he is saving you. So you kiss him and nudge him.
"I have to go."
"Yeah," he says.
"I need to have a shower before helping Mr. Scott."
"Mmmhmm," he hums and he wiggles his hips against yours. You are both half-hard and there is so much joy that it hurts inside your chest.
"Want some help?"
You laugh all the way to the shower until Hikaru joins you and then your mouth is too distracted for much laughing.
Earth feels good underneath your feet and the first thing you do is take off your shoes and do a lap around the building, calculating how far you have traveled on this crazy trip to get home.
No one told you at the Academy about war. About genocide and revenge. About killing people's mothers. But they also didn't tell you how it would feel when you make it, when you save people and you fall in love with handsome starship pilots. No one at the Academy told you about waking up and smiling into someone's skin.
When you round the building, Hikaru is there talking with the rest of the bridge officers and you smile, taking his hand and you all walk on solid ground, listening to the soon familiar sound of Dr. McCoy and Kirk's bantering.
You press yourself into Hikaru's side and smile.
Comments are where it's at.
