Title:
Balancing the Equation: part 6, Planting Seeds
Disclaimer: I beseech you, punish me not with your hard thoughts; wherein I confess me much guilty, to deny so fair and excellent ladies any thing. I shall do the world no injury for I have nothing in it.
Pairing: Chekov/Sulu
Rating: Adult, 17+
Type: Series, #6/20, sequel to
Victor, VictorWarnings: sex, drunken villagers,
Word Count: 2455
Summary and Notes: Sulu defends Chekov's honor. Sorry for the delay! Archived at
awfully_clever Sulu had placed the last of the pancakes on a plate when a shout came from the room where they'd been sleeping. "Hikaru! Hikaru!!" He rushed down the hall and and burst into their room where Chekov sat up straight, hyperventilating, with his eyes wide in panic.
"It's okay, Tigger, I'm here. You're safe. I'm here." Chekov fell into his lap, his breath still quick but slowing, "I was helping Elle in the kitchen. She was making breakfast and we were going to bring you some."
She knocked on the door and then tiptoed in with a tray full of chirrit pancakes and tea, "Here you are, Pavel. Hikaru made them for you. Well, I showed him how, but he did most of the work. He's really dedicated to you." She fidgeted and fussed over preparing the tea and frowned, "I was so worried when you didn't eat last night, so I made sure there was a little extra on your plate this morning. " She finished with the tea and handed it to Chekov, who clutched it close to his face and blew the steam away. "Don't tell anyone I said this, but what Rennit did was wrong. He shouldn't hurt such a sweet boy and I don't care about his rights as a man. He can steal you away from Hikaru, but that doesn't mean he should. You and Hikaru are in love, I can tell. I can always tell. I knew with Jal and Lirra, too. It's not supposed to happen between a teacher and student, but it does and it isn't wrong." Elle laughed and gave him a big hug and a kiss on the cheek, "Listen to me going on! You eat little Pavel, you're too thin." She plucked at his curls in an attempt to neaten them a little, but eventually gave up, patting his head. She turned and smiled at the two young men sitting hip to hip, Sulu balancing the tray on his lap and pushing the plate of pancakes toward Chekov, and then shuffled back to the kitchen.
"I'm sorry I wasn't here when you woke up." Sulu picked at his breakfast and did not look into Chekov's blue eyes. He thought them particularly sad and hurt today and his chest tightened just thinking about what he'd let happen. "I'm sorry I wasn't there when that guy-"
"It is not your fault." Chekov said around a mouthful of pancake, "I should haf stayed where you could see or... ugh. I no longer feel like eating." He put his fork down and pushed the plate away. "I am ill to think about it. It is my own fault because I did not follow orders. You are my superior officer and I should always follow orders."
Sulu set the tray aside, "He attacked you. That is not your fault, never will be your fault, and you can just forget about taking any kind of blame for that, understood?"
"I do not want to talk about this." He flopped back onto the bed and pulled the covers over his head.
"Alright, but you've got to eat and you've got to get up." A muffled grumble came from under the blankets, "First of all, I've never known you to back down from anything. Secondly, if you don't get up and face this, he wins. Thirdly, if you don't eat, Elle's going to kick my butt." The blankets rose and fell as Chekov sighed. "She and Sartori would get along great." Still, there was no response. "They could tag-team the Captain when he tries to sneak into the freezer." Chekov laughed and said something that was lost under the blankets. Sulu pulled them off again, "What?"
"I said that the Captain would not stand a chance."
He kissed his lover's side and Sulu jerked away. "That tickles!" Chekov laughed and preceded the tickle-assault that followed with a mischievous that ended with both laughing and tumbling on the bed, the younger man pinned beneath the older. Sulu kissed Chekov lightly on the lips, "C'mon, you, breakfast. That's an order, Mister."
"Yes, sir." The next two days were busy with drying and preserving the chirrit, men and women singing and stomping their feet as they worked. Where the harvest was a somber affair, this was more celebratory and they sang of abundance and thanksgiving. Each night, a great feast was held in the common house, complete with something not that different from vodka. They celebrated together both nights, singing and dancing with the locals, but always with a cautious eye to Rennit. The third night marked the last of the feasting with planting to begin the next morning and if the first two nights were celebratory, the third was nearly debaucherous. Chekov and Sulu stayed close, no farther than arm's reach away, and often kissed and smiled at each other. Rare was the opportunity for them to express their love in this way and they were grateful for it. The locals would see this as the posessive teacher keeping tabs on his student, but the secret that anyone with eyes could see was that their affection for each other was genuine. The warm blush in Sulu's cheeks when Chekov fell into his lap and the way they both closed their eyes and sighed into a long, deep kiss gave it away. Still Rennit wanted what was not his to take and more than once tried to separate them, but at each attempt, when he wasn't being stared down by the indomitable Mr. Sulu, Elle, the ever-cheerful hostess, directed his attention elsewhere.
As they snuggled together in their bed, warmed by alcohol and each other, Chekov began to tense his shoulders. "Wha's wrong, Tigger?"
"I do not want you to fight tomorrow, 'Kashka." He turned himself over onto his other side and rested his head on Sulu's chest. "You could be hurt. Perhaps we can just call the Captain and he will come for us."
Sulu's long sigh meant that he'd already considered contacting the Enterprise. "They're probably still out of range and besides, we still have readings to take. We don't know what triggers germination in these things, so it's important to try and examine them as seedlings. When do we check in?"
"Two days." The rhythm of Sulu's heart pulled him toward sleep, "Hikasha?"
"Yeah?"
"Will you... ehm..." Chekov hesitated and then shook his head, "Nehwermind. I will ask later. We should have sex."
Sulu ran his fingers through Chekov's hair, "Are you sure?"
"Yes." He kissed his lover's chest as his fingers danced over Sulu's muscular abdomen as though he were charting a course on the conn and then deft fingertips tripped down to the fuzz around his still-soft penis. It moved at his touch, warm and growing harder as Sulu hummed in appreciation.
Sulu closed his eyes and focused on the feeling of his lover's hand on his body, the breath moving in and out of his lungs, the way Chekov's chest rose and fell with each inhalation and exhalation. Thoughts of the morning to come rose up in his mind, as ugly and forceful as Rennit had been, but he let them pass. Now there was the cold night air and the warmth of Chekov's thin body as white limbs twined around brown. Now was all that mattered. He rolled over onto his side and gave Chekov a firm kiss that was as good as a shot of sake. Sulu was as glad to yield to his lover's touch as he was being in control. Before, he always took and never allowed himself to be taken, but Chekov was different. He was sweet, but not effeminate, slender, but strong, boyish, but not a child. Even when he cried, there was never weakness in it.
His mind had started to wander, so he inhaled slowly, pulling Chekov toward him so that they lay, pelvis to pelvis under the thick covers. Each point of contact reminded him to focus on the moment, on Pavel, and to do what the moment required. When Chekov took him, it was with a balance of strength and gentility, focus and enthusiasm. "Pavel, I love you," he said as they moved together like sine and cosine. "You feel so good inside me."
"Ja teb'a l'ubl'u, Hikashka." Sulu knew what this meant and even though he did not understand the breathy Russian sentences that followed, the sound of Chekov's voice was enough to send him over the edge.
---
Sulu was up well before dawn, stretching his muscles as best as he could in the tiny bedroom in preparation for the fight to come. He took his sword from the sheath and examined the blade, finding it sharp enough to shave with, clean, and in perfect condition. This battered old thing was not his favorite blade, not as beautiful as his katanas, not as elegant as his fencing foils, but it would do for the job. This one was a cutlass, a replica of one used by the French Navy in the 19th century, and he had bought it when he was feeling in a particularly swashbuckling mood after several months of Errol Flynn movies and pizza every week with his boyfriend, George. He'd taken up swordfighting as a teenager, having been enamored with the story of the Three Musketeers since he was a child and when his sisters were old enough, they played with plastic swords as Athos, Porthos, and Aramis. He was always Athos, the leader and the oldest. Hana was Porthos and Kiko was Aramis. He never thought fencing, of all things, would be a useful skill for a Starfleet Officer. It was a hobby, painfully outdated by phasers and other modern weapons, but he loved the feel of a sword, the weight of it in his hand. He huffed as he placed the weapon back in its sheath, "Next thing you know, they'll have me shooting a Colt .45 or flying a helicopter."
"Wha...?" A curly head poked out from under the covers followed by two half-closed blue eyes. "Izstilldark, 'Kashka."
Sulu kissed his head and tucked him back in, "Nothing, Tigger. You can sleep a few more minutes. I'll bring you breakfast."
"Mmkay."
---
They walked toward the fields, Chekov with a canvas bag over his shoulder that held the chirrit seeds and their tricorder and Sulu with his sword at his side. Rennit arrived from the North side of the field and took long strides toward the two Starfleet officers. There was no preamble to the fight, no salute or greeting, just a wordless yell and a sword rising up to strike. Had Sulu been a half-second slower, Rennit's sword would have taken his head. The blows came not fast, but hard and it was with great difficulty that Sulu repelled the attacks. The other man's sword was much like a claymore, heavy and long, a weapon designed for brute strength more than finesse, and he wielded it with some skill. A small crowd gathered to watch, and while many cheered for Rennit, Elle shouted encouragements at Sulu. "You can do it, Hikaru! For Pavel!" She put her arm around the young Ensign and smiled, "He's doing very well, Pavel!"
Chekov winced as Rennit's sword came down again, pushing Sulu back a step. "Ai!" He was not doing well at all and was only just able to deflect each attack as Rennit pushed him ever backward and then, as though fortune herself had abandoned them, Sulu stepped on a rock and fell flat on his back. "Hikaru!" Elle held Chekov back for a moment, but couldn't restrain him for long. He broke free and pushed Rennit off balance, allowing Sulu time enough to roll back up to an upright stance. Rennit raised his sword as though to bring it down across Chekov's chest, but the cutlass blocked the strike and with renewed ferocity, Sulu began driving the larger man back. They locked swords and while Rennit was focused on his face, Sulu stepped in closer and to one side as Chekov sucked in a breath and held it, anticipating the sweep of the legs that followed.
Sulu caught his breath as he held the cutlass to Rennit's throat, "Pavel. Is. Mine!"
"I am prepared for death." Rennit gritted his teeth, his hatred apparent in the way he spat his words.
"Kill him!" came an anonymous shout from the crowd.
"I'm not killing anyone." He disarmed Rennit and handed his sword to Chekov. "You're to stay away from Pavel, is that understood?"
"Understood." Rennit skulked away and spent the rest of the day planting as far from Chekov and Sulu as possible. The villagers sang and planted, congratulating Sulu with a pat on the back (Elle gave him a rib-cracking hug) while Chekov continued taking readings on the sly.
In the evening, when all the planting was done, there was a great dance in the middle of the field with a chorus of drums and brightly colored ribbons, like May Day, but without the maypole. The songs were of the bawdiest sort and like the night before, there was enough drink to call it a party. Elle drank as much or more than the men, becoming even more affectionate and talkative than usual. "How long until they grow?" Chekov asked, only pleasantly buzzed and sitting on Sulu's lap.
"Lookit the moon, Pavel." She slurred her words as she petted Chekov's head, "It'll be full in four days, but if we don't sing to them, they don't come up. Today, we sing about sex." Chekov's eyes grew wide and the plump woman laughed, "Oh, you know about sex! Tomorrow, we sing about..." she squinted one eye and thought for a moment, "sex. And the next day we sing about..."
"Sex?" Chekov answered.
Elle laughed and bumped against him, nearly knocking him out of Sulu's lap, "No! Of course not! That's absurd. The third night, we sing about having babies - but only the women, you men stay away and do your... man things." She patted both of them on the shoulder, "And the next morning!" She wiggled her fingers and moved them up toward the stars, "Up they come! Now, speaking of man things, don't tell me you want to spend this special night talking to little ol' me. You kids should go have sex." They both gave her a quizzical look, but she shooed them away toward her little cottage and grinned. "Go on! Shoo!"
They both stood up and Sulu wobbled a bit, tugging at Chekov's hand, "C'mon, Tigger. We're guests. We don' wanna offend." Chekov gathered their things and the two lovers stumbled hand-in-hand back to the little cottage where they had been staying.
Part 5:
InterloperPart 7:
Germination