Fog in the Mirror
Title: Fog in the Mirror
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: M!Chekov/M!Sulu
Rating: Adult, 17+
Type: A sequel to Eyes like mirrors, reflecting in and Mirror of all Courtesy
Warnings: Mirror 'verse. Bondage, crazy shit, mention of chair sex, and vulgarities
Word Count: ~2300
Summary and Notes: Hikaru Sulu meets Piotr Chekov. Only one will win and a happy? ending. Very special thanks to secret_weapon for helping me resolve a plot snag. Archived at awfully_clever.
He was tied up and naked in Sulu's bed again, face down and legs spread wide. The big day was almost here, the day he'd planned for months, slowly gaining Sulu's trust, but there were one or two pieces of the plan that still needed to fall into place. "It will be wonderful, you'll see." Sulu nodded before placing the gag in Chekov's mouth. Then came the blindfold and though the world was black, every sound and touch was magnified by a factor of ten. He pulled against his bonds. They were secure enough to keep him attached to the bed, but comfortable and did not cut into his wrists or block circulation, and he heard Sulu moving around the room, but couldn't determine what he was doing. The door to the shower opened and shut and he heard the hum of the sonic switching on. Alone with his thoughts, he went over the plan, remembering exactly what to do and when. The whole thing boiled down to Chekov cornering his target alone and without the security detail that always followed him. Then he could do as he pleased with a knife and a phaser. The sonic switched off again and there was more movement. The dresser opened and closed again and a few seconds later, he felt the bed sink under Sulu's weight. He turned toward where the Lieutenant sat and pulled against his restraints, wanting to touch and be touched. He pulled harder, screwing up his face, and made some kind of muffled protest around the gag, but Sulu said nothing. Instead, he felt cold metal touch his nipples, squeezing them. He focused on this, the most intense sensation he was able to perceive, and it turned him on. The bed rose up again and Chekov could no longer sense where Sulu was until the door whooshed open and shut again. There was the chirrup of a lock activated and then nothing but the hum of the ship.
Chekov was alone.
As he waited patiently with his thoughts, his schemes, his plans and soon all sense of time slipped from him. When Sulu did not return, he wondered if it had been just a few minutes or an hour or longer. He wondered if Sulu would return at all or just leave him tied here forever. Completely vulnerable, new scenarios played through his mind of someone coming in and having their way with him without Sulu there. Or maybe Sulu would watch and jerk himself off at the pleasure of watching someone else take him. The idea of it was alternately terrifying and sexy as all fuck and his mind overloaded with it. He was as hard as a man gets now and as he squirmed, his imagination filling him with terrible and wonderful things Sulu could do to him, he tried to rub himself against the mattress, longing for any friction he could find. He almost didn't hear the door open and close again, almost didn't care as he writhed in vain. There was no sound other than footsteps and the not knowing was frustrating at least.
He heard the sound of the lubricant open and close again and then white hot pain and pleasure as fingers entered him with unexpected speed and force. Chekov gasped and made a sound like a woman, muffled through the gag. Soon, the fingers left him and were replaced by warm flesh that could only have been Sulu's cock. He was almost comforted by this, by knowing it was only Sulu inside him, but it was an angry fuck. Chekov was nowhere near climax, but hard and wanting, needing to be touched, when Sulu took the gag out and finally spoke. "Who. Is. Piotr?!" he growled, pinning Chekov to the bed with a broad hand on his slender neck.
"I told you! He is my brother!" He forced out with very little breath in him.
"Filthy pédik." Piotr whispered in his ear.
Sulu squeezed tighter, "I looked in your file. You don't have a brother."
"He has found you out and now he will kill you," He heard Piotr's voice again, low and deadly.
"Piotr is my brother!" He coughed, "Younger than me- my brother!"
"You are going to die, Pasha." He felt Sulu's hand, bruising and crushing around the delicate tissues as Piotr continued, louder this time, "You are going to die and then I will kill him."
"Speak English!" Sulu ordered.
Chekov was confused. He had been speaking English and he suddenly felt delicate and frail. "I am! I speak only English to you! Only English, like you want!"
"Hikarushka will die."
"I said, speak. English." Sulu's commands were harsher now.
"I do what you say! I said nothing else! Piotr is here, he is saying these things," he was weeping now, like a child, panicked and delirious. Then there was a rush of cold as Sulu withdrew and scrambled off of the bed.
"I will slit his throat with his own knife, Pasha."
"Holy fuck, you're serious." Chekov heard a rustle and then footsteps pacing back and forth. "Shit! Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck! This is really fucked up." There were a few moments of silence and then more pacing. "Can you talk to him?"
"Y-yes."
"This is really fucked up and when I say, 'This is really fucked up,' I really fucking mean it." Chekov heard a sharp exhale, "Tell him- Tell him he can be in on the plan."
"What would I want with his plan? He is worthless to me."
Chekov sniffed, "He can hear you. He can understand English."
"What did he say?" The pacing had stopped and Sulu's voice sounded strange.
"He says," Chekov hesitated for a moment, not wanting to be punished, "He says you are worthless."
"What do you want, Piotr? If you help us, I can get you whatever you want." There was another shift in Sulu's tone. He was negotiating now, more confident. "I know you can't get what you want without Pavel. What is it you want? Command? What?"
"I want you dead!" Piotr screamed, startling Chekov. He'd never heard Piotr raise his voice.
"I don't have to speak Russian to figure that one out. You're jealous." Sulu's foot tapped on the carpeted floor, "I took him away from you and he was all you had. Well, it's like this: We both need Pavel and Pavel needs me. So, you're going to have to come along for the ride or I'm going to kill you both."
"No!" Chekov shook his head "No, Piotr, please!"
"So what's it going to be?" Chekov heard the flick-flick of Sulu's katana unfolding, not his favorite weapon, but he used it when he meant business and many a foe had been dispatched by its blade.
Piotr laughed, "Tell him exactly what I say, Pasha, or I will hurt you, do you understand?"
"Yes, I understand." He nodded and began translating his brother's words exactly as they were spoken to him.
"I want to be perfectly clear, Lieutenant, that there is no way you will ever be good enough for my brother. Nothing you do or say to me will convince me otherwise. But, perhaps we may come to an understanding."
"Perhaps." Sulu resumed his pacing, "I see the hate in your face, Piotr. You want me dead and I am no fool. If you can't accept that Pavel is mine, then there's not room for both of us."
"Then I will kill you!" Chekov's translation came through gasps and tears and he shook his head, "Nyet, nyet, nyet, Piotr! Do not do this!"
"Do it." Sulu commanded. Piotr screamed an angry and wordless reply. "Do it!" He heard the katana clatter to the floor. "Pick up the sword and kill me, you impotent little shit!"
"I will do it when the time is right, when you are not suspecting. I will use you up and then you will die in agony!" Pavel translated every word, fearful of what would happen if he missed even one nuance of meaning. "Look what you do! You are making him weak! Only I can make him strong - not your little toy, your little whore."
"That's right. He's my little whore and I can give him what you can't - or do you? He called your name once. Were you watching us?" Piotr yelled his protest, but Sulu continued in his low, honeyed tones, "Maybe you like watching me tie him up, make him helpless, and fuck him raw. I like hearing him beg; that's my favorite part. He feels so good, so tight, it's like fucking a virgin every time and he always comes begging for more." Sulu raised his voice to a mocking falsetto, mimicking Chekov's accent, "'Please, Hikaru. I want to feel your big cock inside me!'"
Pavel tried to make himself so small that he'd disappear, but the bonds kept him spread wide open as Piotr yelled in broken Standard coated in thick Russian sounds, "I KILL YOU! I KILL YOU! See how you make him weak? I make him strong. Chekov men should be strong."
"Kill me, then, I dare you. He's weak alright, but not because of me." Chekov felt a weight and a warmth near him and Sulu's breath in his ear. "Pavel, baby, you don't need him anymore." The words buzzed in Chekov's ears as Sulu backed away again, "You're nothing, Piotr. Nothing at all. You made him weak, made him need you, but he doesn't need you. I don't need you. Nobody needs you. You're a ghost, a dream."
"I KILL YOU!"
"You can't hurt me. You're nothing. You can't even touch me. All you are is a nightmare dreamed up to frighten away the demons, a little boy's fantasy. You can't protect him from anything real. You're nothing- nothing but a ghost and I'm not afraid of ghosts."
Sulu's words still buzzed in Chekov's ears and he remembered that day in the airlock when Piotr begged to be released, pleaded for his life. He had seen his brother's body tumble into space. He'd doubted himself, wondered if Piotr had escaped death somehow, but as the buzzing in his ears got louder, he felt something grow inside him. Real or a ghost, Piotr was standing in the way of what he truly wanted, "Piotr!"
"Shut up, you skinny little faggot!" Piotr snarled back.
"No." Chekov slowed his breath and tightened his jaw, "You shut up! All my life, you tell me what to do - who to cut, when to kill, but I can do it myself. Remember Professor Koslov? That was my idea. I am the one who carved equations into his body. I am the one who cut the hamstrings of my first rival in running. I am the one who became an officer at seventeen. What have you done? Nothing but talk. You are nothing. You do nothing."
"I love, you Pasha. No one else can." Piotr's voice was smooth now, condescending, "No one else can make you strong like I can. Look at what this Hikaru has done to you. He has made you his dog, helpless, worthless."
"You are worthless! You always say 'Pasha do this, Pasha do that,' but it is I who do the work. Leave me!" Chekov pulled at the cloth that secured his wrists, wanting to hit, to cut, to rage against the one who had held him back so many years.
"But Pasha-"
"Leave me!" He repeated this over and over until he heard nothing but his own voice. Then, slowly, broad warm hands removed the nipple clamps and the blindfold and untied the cloth that held his wrists and ankles.
"He's gone now." Sulu sat on the edge of the bed and, like a beaten animal, Chekov crawled into his lap, seeking shelter. His body wracked with physical and emotional exhaustion, he could do nothing but sob into Sulu's bare chest. Hesitantly at first, then giving in to his need to protect what is his, Sulu wrapped his arms around Chekov as he shook. "You are not weak- crazy as fuck, but not weak. See this scar?" Sulu turned his face so that Chekov could see the long cut down his cheek, now a silvery scar, "You put this here, not Piotr. You. A weak man could not have done that. We'll take this ship together, you and I. Hell, between the two of us we can take the whole damn Empire." Sulu stroked Chekov's back and threaded his fingers through his sandy curls until he stopped shaking. They slept together that night, fucking slowly and face-to-face, neither bound or blindfolded. The perversion of it was thrilling and all thought and all pain dissipated as Chekov came, the edges of his vision fogged by pleasure.
They never did kill Kirk. To their surprise, Spock had sent the bastard to the depths of Rura Penthe, a gift to the Klingons in exchange for a chance at an alliance. When Kirk had escaped to exact his revenge on his former first officer, it was Chekov and Sulu that used this opportunity to take the Enterprise. They marooned the two on Ceti Alpha V, a planet which, as Chekov predicted, would change its orbit in just a few years and become a barren wasteland, if habitable at all. It was Sulu's idea to place a beacon in orbit, declaring the planet too dangerous to approach. They laughed and fucked in the captain's chair that day as they left the system at maximum warp.
Four years later, the revolution was glorious and the Emperor and the Tsar ruled without mercy, expanding the Empire beyond what any had dreamed possible. An heir, their DNA manipulated into the empty shell of an egg and carried to term by a slave, was born to them in the second year of their rule. Empress Demora was as calculating as her Papa, as ruthless as her Dad, and she lived to be a very old, very powerful woman.
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: M!Chekov/M!Sulu
Rating: Adult, 17+
Type: A sequel to Eyes like mirrors, reflecting in and Mirror of all Courtesy
Warnings: Mirror 'verse. Bondage, crazy shit, mention of chair sex, and vulgarities
Word Count: ~2300
Summary and Notes: Hikaru Sulu meets Piotr Chekov. Only one will win and a happy? ending. Very special thanks to secret_weapon for helping me resolve a plot snag. Archived at awfully_clever.
He was tied up and naked in Sulu's bed again, face down and legs spread wide. The big day was almost here, the day he'd planned for months, slowly gaining Sulu's trust, but there were one or two pieces of the plan that still needed to fall into place. "It will be wonderful, you'll see." Sulu nodded before placing the gag in Chekov's mouth. Then came the blindfold and though the world was black, every sound and touch was magnified by a factor of ten. He pulled against his bonds. They were secure enough to keep him attached to the bed, but comfortable and did not cut into his wrists or block circulation, and he heard Sulu moving around the room, but couldn't determine what he was doing. The door to the shower opened and shut and he heard the hum of the sonic switching on. Alone with his thoughts, he went over the plan, remembering exactly what to do and when. The whole thing boiled down to Chekov cornering his target alone and without the security detail that always followed him. Then he could do as he pleased with a knife and a phaser. The sonic switched off again and there was more movement. The dresser opened and closed again and a few seconds later, he felt the bed sink under Sulu's weight. He turned toward where the Lieutenant sat and pulled against his restraints, wanting to touch and be touched. He pulled harder, screwing up his face, and made some kind of muffled protest around the gag, but Sulu said nothing. Instead, he felt cold metal touch his nipples, squeezing them. He focused on this, the most intense sensation he was able to perceive, and it turned him on. The bed rose up again and Chekov could no longer sense where Sulu was until the door whooshed open and shut again. There was the chirrup of a lock activated and then nothing but the hum of the ship.
Chekov was alone.
As he waited patiently with his thoughts, his schemes, his plans and soon all sense of time slipped from him. When Sulu did not return, he wondered if it had been just a few minutes or an hour or longer. He wondered if Sulu would return at all or just leave him tied here forever. Completely vulnerable, new scenarios played through his mind of someone coming in and having their way with him without Sulu there. Or maybe Sulu would watch and jerk himself off at the pleasure of watching someone else take him. The idea of it was alternately terrifying and sexy as all fuck and his mind overloaded with it. He was as hard as a man gets now and as he squirmed, his imagination filling him with terrible and wonderful things Sulu could do to him, he tried to rub himself against the mattress, longing for any friction he could find. He almost didn't hear the door open and close again, almost didn't care as he writhed in vain. There was no sound other than footsteps and the not knowing was frustrating at least.
He heard the sound of the lubricant open and close again and then white hot pain and pleasure as fingers entered him with unexpected speed and force. Chekov gasped and made a sound like a woman, muffled through the gag. Soon, the fingers left him and were replaced by warm flesh that could only have been Sulu's cock. He was almost comforted by this, by knowing it was only Sulu inside him, but it was an angry fuck. Chekov was nowhere near climax, but hard and wanting, needing to be touched, when Sulu took the gag out and finally spoke. "Who. Is. Piotr?!" he growled, pinning Chekov to the bed with a broad hand on his slender neck.
"I told you! He is my brother!" He forced out with very little breath in him.
"Filthy pédik." Piotr whispered in his ear.
Sulu squeezed tighter, "I looked in your file. You don't have a brother."
"He has found you out and now he will kill you," He heard Piotr's voice again, low and deadly.
"Piotr is my brother!" He coughed, "Younger than me- my brother!"
"You are going to die, Pasha." He felt Sulu's hand, bruising and crushing around the delicate tissues as Piotr continued, louder this time, "You are going to die and then I will kill him."
"Speak English!" Sulu ordered.
Chekov was confused. He had been speaking English and he suddenly felt delicate and frail. "I am! I speak only English to you! Only English, like you want!"
"Hikarushka will die."
"I said, speak. English." Sulu's commands were harsher now.
"I do what you say! I said nothing else! Piotr is here, he is saying these things," he was weeping now, like a child, panicked and delirious. Then there was a rush of cold as Sulu withdrew and scrambled off of the bed.
"I will slit his throat with his own knife, Pasha."
"Holy fuck, you're serious." Chekov heard a rustle and then footsteps pacing back and forth. "Shit! Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck! This is really fucked up." There were a few moments of silence and then more pacing. "Can you talk to him?"
"Y-yes."
"This is really fucked up and when I say, 'This is really fucked up,' I really fucking mean it." Chekov heard a sharp exhale, "Tell him- Tell him he can be in on the plan."
"What would I want with his plan? He is worthless to me."
Chekov sniffed, "He can hear you. He can understand English."
"What did he say?" The pacing had stopped and Sulu's voice sounded strange.
"He says," Chekov hesitated for a moment, not wanting to be punished, "He says you are worthless."
"What do you want, Piotr? If you help us, I can get you whatever you want." There was another shift in Sulu's tone. He was negotiating now, more confident. "I know you can't get what you want without Pavel. What is it you want? Command? What?"
"I want you dead!" Piotr screamed, startling Chekov. He'd never heard Piotr raise his voice.
"I don't have to speak Russian to figure that one out. You're jealous." Sulu's foot tapped on the carpeted floor, "I took him away from you and he was all you had. Well, it's like this: We both need Pavel and Pavel needs me. So, you're going to have to come along for the ride or I'm going to kill you both."
"No!" Chekov shook his head "No, Piotr, please!"
"So what's it going to be?" Chekov heard the flick-flick of Sulu's katana unfolding, not his favorite weapon, but he used it when he meant business and many a foe had been dispatched by its blade.
Piotr laughed, "Tell him exactly what I say, Pasha, or I will hurt you, do you understand?"
"Yes, I understand." He nodded and began translating his brother's words exactly as they were spoken to him.
"I want to be perfectly clear, Lieutenant, that there is no way you will ever be good enough for my brother. Nothing you do or say to me will convince me otherwise. But, perhaps we may come to an understanding."
"Perhaps." Sulu resumed his pacing, "I see the hate in your face, Piotr. You want me dead and I am no fool. If you can't accept that Pavel is mine, then there's not room for both of us."
"Then I will kill you!" Chekov's translation came through gasps and tears and he shook his head, "Nyet, nyet, nyet, Piotr! Do not do this!"
"Do it." Sulu commanded. Piotr screamed an angry and wordless reply. "Do it!" He heard the katana clatter to the floor. "Pick up the sword and kill me, you impotent little shit!"
"I will do it when the time is right, when you are not suspecting. I will use you up and then you will die in agony!" Pavel translated every word, fearful of what would happen if he missed even one nuance of meaning. "Look what you do! You are making him weak! Only I can make him strong - not your little toy, your little whore."
"That's right. He's my little whore and I can give him what you can't - or do you? He called your name once. Were you watching us?" Piotr yelled his protest, but Sulu continued in his low, honeyed tones, "Maybe you like watching me tie him up, make him helpless, and fuck him raw. I like hearing him beg; that's my favorite part. He feels so good, so tight, it's like fucking a virgin every time and he always comes begging for more." Sulu raised his voice to a mocking falsetto, mimicking Chekov's accent, "'Please, Hikaru. I want to feel your big cock inside me!'"
Pavel tried to make himself so small that he'd disappear, but the bonds kept him spread wide open as Piotr yelled in broken Standard coated in thick Russian sounds, "I KILL YOU! I KILL YOU! See how you make him weak? I make him strong. Chekov men should be strong."
"Kill me, then, I dare you. He's weak alright, but not because of me." Chekov felt a weight and a warmth near him and Sulu's breath in his ear. "Pavel, baby, you don't need him anymore." The words buzzed in Chekov's ears as Sulu backed away again, "You're nothing, Piotr. Nothing at all. You made him weak, made him need you, but he doesn't need you. I don't need you. Nobody needs you. You're a ghost, a dream."
"I KILL YOU!"
"You can't hurt me. You're nothing. You can't even touch me. All you are is a nightmare dreamed up to frighten away the demons, a little boy's fantasy. You can't protect him from anything real. You're nothing- nothing but a ghost and I'm not afraid of ghosts."
Sulu's words still buzzed in Chekov's ears and he remembered that day in the airlock when Piotr begged to be released, pleaded for his life. He had seen his brother's body tumble into space. He'd doubted himself, wondered if Piotr had escaped death somehow, but as the buzzing in his ears got louder, he felt something grow inside him. Real or a ghost, Piotr was standing in the way of what he truly wanted, "Piotr!"
"Shut up, you skinny little faggot!" Piotr snarled back.
"No." Chekov slowed his breath and tightened his jaw, "You shut up! All my life, you tell me what to do - who to cut, when to kill, but I can do it myself. Remember Professor Koslov? That was my idea. I am the one who carved equations into his body. I am the one who cut the hamstrings of my first rival in running. I am the one who became an officer at seventeen. What have you done? Nothing but talk. You are nothing. You do nothing."
"I love, you Pasha. No one else can." Piotr's voice was smooth now, condescending, "No one else can make you strong like I can. Look at what this Hikaru has done to you. He has made you his dog, helpless, worthless."
"You are worthless! You always say 'Pasha do this, Pasha do that,' but it is I who do the work. Leave me!" Chekov pulled at the cloth that secured his wrists, wanting to hit, to cut, to rage against the one who had held him back so many years.
"But Pasha-"
"Leave me!" He repeated this over and over until he heard nothing but his own voice. Then, slowly, broad warm hands removed the nipple clamps and the blindfold and untied the cloth that held his wrists and ankles.
"He's gone now." Sulu sat on the edge of the bed and, like a beaten animal, Chekov crawled into his lap, seeking shelter. His body wracked with physical and emotional exhaustion, he could do nothing but sob into Sulu's bare chest. Hesitantly at first, then giving in to his need to protect what is his, Sulu wrapped his arms around Chekov as he shook. "You are not weak- crazy as fuck, but not weak. See this scar?" Sulu turned his face so that Chekov could see the long cut down his cheek, now a silvery scar, "You put this here, not Piotr. You. A weak man could not have done that. We'll take this ship together, you and I. Hell, between the two of us we can take the whole damn Empire." Sulu stroked Chekov's back and threaded his fingers through his sandy curls until he stopped shaking. They slept together that night, fucking slowly and face-to-face, neither bound or blindfolded. The perversion of it was thrilling and all thought and all pain dissipated as Chekov came, the edges of his vision fogged by pleasure.
They never did kill Kirk. To their surprise, Spock had sent the bastard to the depths of Rura Penthe, a gift to the Klingons in exchange for a chance at an alliance. When Kirk had escaped to exact his revenge on his former first officer, it was Chekov and Sulu that used this opportunity to take the Enterprise. They marooned the two on Ceti Alpha V, a planet which, as Chekov predicted, would change its orbit in just a few years and become a barren wasteland, if habitable at all. It was Sulu's idea to place a beacon in orbit, declaring the planet too dangerous to approach. They laughed and fucked in the captain's chair that day as they left the system at maximum warp.
Four years later, the revolution was glorious and the Emperor and the Tsar ruled without mercy, expanding the Empire beyond what any had dreamed possible. An heir, their DNA manipulated into the empty shell of an egg and carried to term by a slave, was born to them in the second year of their rule. Empress Demora was as calculating as her Papa, as ruthless as her Dad, and she lived to be a very old, very powerful woman.