[Fic] : Star Trek (Chekov/Sulu) All Alone
Title: All Alone
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 3,066 words
Fandom: Star Trek
Pairing: Chekov/Sulu
Summary: A 1920s AU where Sulu is an ex-pilot after an accident renders him useless. His life finds new meaning when he meets Pavel Andreivich, a Russian singer performing at The Cotton Club
New York City, 1927
Hikaru sat in his arm chair, fingers splayed out and pressed against the cool window pane. Through the chilled and warped glass came the noises of the street. Cars honked and hummed, and somewhere below Hikaru’s window a saxophone player was drawling out a sweet song that seeped through the bricks of his Harlem apartment. It was late, maybe ten o’clock, but outside Hikaru’s window was a world of lights and music that were just waking up.
Hikaru turned away from his window as he heard a key turn in the door to his small apartment. Jim entered, tripping over the shoes that had been carelessly left at the door.
“Why do you have to keep it so damn dark in here?” He grumbled as he brushed himself off.
“Saves money.” Hikaru sighed.
“Well I think you should turn on something. Even if you don’t think you need it, just common curtesy, y’know?”
Hikaru didn’t answer, waiting for Jim to explain why he was there on a Friday night. He usually stopped by on Wednesdays with his usual care package, pre-cooked meals and Hikaru’s dry cleaning. Jim had worked with him before the accident, before the explosion that rendered him useless without his cane. Not that anyone would consider him useful with the cane either.
“You,” Jim finally began. “Have been sitting in that chair for too long. Pretty soon your ass is going to have the imprint of a seat cushion, and then all you’ll have left going for you is your exotic oriental looks. Really Sulu, seat-cushion-asses are not going to get you in good with the ladies.” Jim stopped himself and shuffled his feet on the rug. “Or, you know… other people.” Hikaru grimaced and turned back to the window. Jim was the only person who knew, having walked in on Hikaru kissing his ex-boyfriend good bye after a tearful argument about how it couldn’t possibly work with Hikaru’s new condition. Harlem was a haven for men like him. He remembered sitting outside a small café one evening, reading a small yet panicked column on the rash of Harlem’s new “long haired men and short haired women.” Hikaru had never really tried out the statement look himself, knowing it would bring him even more comments on his “exotic” looks.
“Anyways,” Jim cleared his throat. “You do need to get out. You live in Harlem, for Christ’s sake! The Cotton Club, The Dark Tower-“
“I’m not allowed in the Cotton Club.” Hikaru glared. “Whites only.”
“With Captain James Tiberius Kirk, you’ll be allowed anywhere.” Jim declared. It wasn’t just his massive ego talking either, it was true. He had gotten Hikaru and their mutual friend Nyota into parties countless times before. In places where you should be hated, if you were hanging off the arm of Jim Kirk all you got were compliments on your exotic beauty.
“I can’t.” Hikaru finally said, staring at the floor as he made a futile effort to spend the rest of the night moping in his chair. “The music hurts my head.”
“Don’t be a wimp.” Jim laughed. “Listen, The Cotton Club is having a special musician tonight, some Russian kid that’s world famous. For tonight it’ll be a sophisticated theater, not a club where you’ll trip over the dancers and get headaches.” Hikaru didn’t have to look at Jim to know he was giving him the puppy-eyed look that always worked.
“Fine.” He groaned, standing up and grabbing his cane from where it leaned against the arm of his chair. Jim gave him a slap on the back before turning to lead the way, kicking the shoes out of their way first.
The Cotton Club was full when they got there, murmured excitement filled the club as people sat in their seats with nothing to do. Hikaru wondered what Admiral Pike would say about that. Probably something about how today’s youngsters where obsessed with instantaneous gratification and didn’t know how to wait. He used to visit the hangar often when Hikaru worked there, and usually lectured the pilots on how twisted the modern generation’s ideals were. Hikaru’s mind wandered as he thought about Pike. Did he still visit the hangar? He probably visited more often now that Hikaru and Nyota were gone. Nyota had been their secretary, quitting after Hikaru left her as the only minority in the whole building. She still visited him often, especially since they lived just a few blocks away. She was now running some kind of colored literary magazine that was selling like crazy.
“Sulu?” Jim shook Sulu’s shoulder, jolting him out of his thoughts. “You want a beer?”
“Hell yes.” Hikaru replied. Jim stood up and shuffled awkwardly out of the aisle of seats. Hikaru shifted in his chair until he was comfortable, then sat waiting for the hush that soon descended on the crowd as a man walked across the stage. His footsteps were light but solid, and there was an awkward squeak as he arrived at the middle of the stage and adjusted the microphone stand. He cleared his throat and it echoed through the suddenly silent club.
“Hello.” His voice sounded almost timid, uncharacteristic of the other performers Hikaru had seen here. "I am Pavel Andreivich.” He spoke after a pause. “It is an honor to perform here in this place.” His accent was thick, and obviously Russian. Hikaru loved the way it sounded, almost tangible, as if the words he spoke formed a physical shape in his mouth. He sighed and closed his eyes. There was an audible breath before Pavel began. A small band struck up behind him, playing soft and sweet.
Just like a melody that lingers on
You seem to haunt me night and day
I never realized till you had gone
How much I cared about you
I can’t live without you
It sounded like heaven. Pavel’s accent melted after the first few words. His voice transformed the song that was at once so familiar and so brand new. For a moment Hikaru couldn’t breathe, and he didn’t feel like he had to. Just that god damn voice filling the hall was all he needed to live.
The kid sang three more songs before he thanked the audience and left, his footsteps overpowered by the uproar of applause. Hikaru stood up too, applauding vigorously.
“Easy there.” Jim laughed. “Almost knocked the drinks out of my hand.” Sulu hadn’t even heard him return to his seat.
“That was amazing, Jim.” Hikaru smiled. “Did you hear him? He was amazing.”
“Yeah, he was pretty good.”
“Pretty good?” Hikaru gasped. “He’s an angel.”
“Well if you liked him so much you should go get his autograph.” Jim laughed. Hikaru nodded, not quite registering the joking tone. He grabbed his cane and shuffled out of the aisle.
“Woah, wait a second.” Jim followed. “I wasn’t serious-“
“Don’t worry, Jim, I won’t embarrass you by getting his autograph. I’m just going to tell him how much I liked his singing.” He headed in the direction of where he thought he remembered the backstage door being. His cane caught suddenly on a groove in the floor and he stumbled, Jim grabbing his arm so he didn’t fall. “Thanks.” He muttered. “Where’s the damn backstage door?”
“Here,” Jim sighed in defeat, leading Hikaru to the cool metal of a door handle. He pushed it open, suddenly surrounded by the warmth of the room. A surprised noise came from inside and he realized he’d forgotten to knock.
“Sorry.” He winced. Jim cleared his throat behind him, giving Hikaru an encouraging nudge. “Are you Pavel? The singer?”
“Da.” Came the reply from inside. “And you are?”
“My name’s Hikaru. I just wanted to tell you how amazing you are at singing. That was… I’d never heard anything like it.”
“Oh, thank you.” Pavel muttered. Hikaru could almost hear the embarrassment in his voice. He heard Jim retreat and he imagined he had given them a nod or a wave before doing so. “Please,” Pavel spoke suddenly. “Come in.”
Sulu dragged his cane in front of him, feeling the slight step down and accommodating for it. He heard a soft noise of realization from Pavel as he put two and two together.
“You are…”
“Blind? Yeah.” Sulu braced himself for the wave of pity.
“Thank you, I did not know the word in English.” Pavel laughed softly. He heard him cross the small room to close the door. “It is recent, da?”
“How do you…?” Sulu questioned.
“You still turn your eyes to follow the sounds. I saw you when I came on stage. You followed my feet sounds.”
“You saw me?” For some reason the thought of someone so important noticing Hikaru made him giddy. That, and the fact that Pavel had just said “feet sounds” instead of “footsteps,” Which was somehow endearing.
“Da, it is interesting. You are a… I do not know the word for them. You are a Yaposhka.”
“Japanese?” Hikaru hazarded a guess.
“Da, that is it. I have never met any Japanese. I have only heard of them from the war.”
“I never fought in the war.” Heu laughed. “I’m a second generation American.”
“Nyet, of course. You are too young also. I just thought it was interesting. You are much prettier than my Uncle says Japanese are supposed to be.” Pavel continued Sulu’s joking tone, but the words made Hikaru’s mouth go dry.
“Sorry, this is going to sound really weird.” he forced himself to ask, “Can I touch your face?”
There was a silence before Pavel muttered a “Da” that seemed embarrassed. Hikaru reached out tentatively, feeling Pavel’s hand reach back to guide his. He found his fingers softly pressed against the corner of Pavel’s jaw. He brought them upwards along his hot cheeks, feeling the definition in his face. An image began to form in his mind. Pavel’s skin was smooth and soft, probably pale. He felt the fuzz on his jaw, the kind that would give him a glow under the lights of the stage. His brows were soft, not too prominent, and his forehead sloped smoothly into a nest of curly hair. Hikaru was surprised to find he didn’t oil it back or even comb it over. It was nice, he didn’t smell like thickly scented lavender oil like Jim always did. As Hikaru’s thumb swept over Pavel’s cheek he felt the flutter of lashes, which caused a similar fluttering in his chest. Pavel’s hand found his again, dragging his hand gently down again, under his jaw, down his neck, and finally resting with Hikaru’s palm flat against Pavel’s chest.
“This is ok, yes?” Pavel’s voice shook, with what Hikaru couldn’t tell. “You are not in Harlem because you are black. You are not. You are here because you are of the men who live here?”
“I… If you’re saying what I think you’re saying…”
“You are not saying no.” Pavel sounded relieved. “This is why I come here. This club is famous, yes, and they serve good vodka, but this part of the city is for people like you and me.”
“Pavel.” Hikaru’s voice was almost a whisper. On a sudden impulse he reached out his other hand, letting his cane clatter to the ground. His thumb found Pavel’s bottom lip, and he slipped his hand to the back of Pavel’s head, pulling him close enough for Hikaru to lean in and press their lips together.
His lips were soft, but Pavel was strong. His arms flung immediately around Hikaru’s neck and shoulders, pulling him closer. It had been so long since Hikaru had done this, but soon he felt Pavel’s tongue swipe across his bottom lip and into his mouth, and he melted. Pavel must have felt him relax, as the next thing he knew he was being pushed backwards and landed on a soft couch. His lips were caught up again, and he felt Pavel climb over him, straddling his lap and rubbing the bulge in his pants against his own. Hikaru moaned, but pulled back from the kiss.
“Pavel,” He started.
“Pasha.” Pavel moaned. “Please, call me Pasha.” He lowered his mouth to Hikaru’s neck, biting hard enough that he knew Jim would ask questions later.
“Pasha,” Hikaru tried again, forgetting what he meant to say momentarily as Pavel whimpered at the name, rutting into him harder. “I… What are we doing?”
“I do not know the name.” Pavel sighed, pulling back to look into his eyes as he sensed the change in tone. “But it is good? You like it?”
“Hell yes, I love it, but I mean-“
“Hikasha,” Pavel sighed. “I will call you Hikasha, is this good? Hikasha, I do not know you very good. If you are asking if I want to know you more good, and do this again, then yes. I would like this.”
“I… really? But you’re not going to be here for long-“
“Why am I not?”
“You’re not leaving soon? You’re not going back to Russia?”
“No.” Pavel laughed. “I come here to live. To live in Harlem.”
“Oh.” Hikaru didn’t know what to say. He realized quickly he didn’t have to as Pavel took his hand and guided it down to cup the bulge in his slacks. Hikaru took the hint, rubbing through the soft fabric and feeling Pavel meet the touches with his own thrusts. They were both breathing heavily, giving up on kissing in favor of touching and sucking at each other. Pavel, who was focusing on Hikaru’s neck began to unbutton his shirt, slipping his hands under his jacket to slide the suspender straps off his shoulders. Hikaru took his hand away from Pavel’s crotch long enough to help, slipping the jacket off and unbuttoning from the other direction. As soon as his shirt parted Pavel leapt forward, kissing the smooth skin of Hikaru’s chest. Hikaru fumbled with the clasp of Pavel’s slacks, eventually undoing them and pulling them down along with his briefs. He felt Pavel’s freed erection rub against his stomach, the head already wet with pre-come.
Hikaru didn’t dare flip Pavel over forcefully on the off chance of dropping him and ruining the moment. Instead he guided him with one arm, sliding Pavel off of his lap and onto the couch. He slid a hand between the back of the couch and Pavel’s hip, using it to steady himself as he lowered his mouth down to Pavel’s cock. Pavel gave a breathy moan as Hikaru sucked tentatively on the flushed head, gently reaching up to push back the foreskin. He pulled back far enough to kiss the leaking slit of his cock before he slid his mouth down as far as he could. Pavel yelped in pleasure as Hikaru bobbed up and down, using his hand to cover what his mouth couldn’t reach. He could smell the Pavel’s lust, a mix of sweat and pre-come that made the air seem thick around them.
Pavel was muttering in Russian, shouting out what sounded like curses when Hikaru twisted his hand the right way or paid special attention to the head of his cock. Suddenly, Hikaru felt Pavel’s hand on his cheek, lifting his face up to face him. Pavel whispered something, his voice shaking with pleasure. Hikaru assumed a meaning, sliding up to kiss him. He missed at first, clashing his lips against Pavel’s chin, causing the younger to laugh slightly. He tried again, this time finding Pavel’s lips. As he sucked on Pavel’s lips his hand worked on his cock, moving and twisting, occasionally reaching up to tug lightly on the foreskin. Pavel moved underneath him in an intoxicating rhythm, tensing and relaxing with each up and down of Hikaru’s hand.
“Ah!” Pavel cried, pulling his lips back from Hikaru’s. “Hikasha! I’m going to-“ Pavel’s breathing sped up even more as he came, his cock spurting the hot stickiness up onto Hikaru’s slacks. Hikaru didn’t care. He kissed up Pavel’s jaw slowly, his hand sliding away from Pavel’s softening cock. Pavel muttered something softly as Hikaru nibbled on his earlobe.
“What was that?” Hikaru asked.
“You’re turn.” Pavel repeated before sliding off the couch. Hikaru sat up and felt Pavel kneel between his legs, his hot breath near his cock. He lifted his hips off the couch long enough for Pavel to slide his slacks down off of his legs. He felt his cock enveloped by the warm wetness of Pavel’s mouth which quickly began bobbing up and down. Hikaru leaned back on the couch, letting his hands knot themselves through Pavel’s hair. The Russian was making pleased noises, as though he was enjoying the very taste of Hikaru’s cock. He pulled back for a second, licking a warm stripe up the bottom of Hikaru’s cock as he cupped his balls. Hikaru arched his back, swinging his hips up into Pavel’s mouth again. He wasn’t as loud as Pavel, only heavy breaths escaping his lips. He felt a strange sensation that must have been a Pavel dragging his teeth lightly over the top of Hikaru’s cock, and his hand’s tightened in Pavel’s hair. He let one hand slide down to the back of Pavel’s head, testing the waters as he lightly pushed him closer. Pavel obeyed, swallowing up more of Hikaru’s cock as he pushed him further. Hikaru could feel his cock hit the back of Pavel’s throat, and briefly wondered how the hell Pavel could do that. Then Pavel started humming, his throat vibrating the head of Hikaru’s cock. Hikaru came without warning, hard enough to see stars. Pavel swallowed as much as he could, but Hikaru felt some ooze back out of his mouth. He reached down to wipe the come off the corner of Pavel’s mouth and was startled when Pavel seized his hand, licking it clean.
“That was… fuck, Pasha that was amazing.”
He didn’t reply, sitting down next to Hikaru and leaning against his shoulder. Hikaru felt Pavel’s fingers slide through his hair, combing it down. He felt lips against his own, and tasted himself in Pavel’s mouth.
The kid drew back, resting his head against Hikaru’s. He cleared his throat softly then began to sing.
His voice was soft and fragile, yet it filled the room they sat in.
All alone
I’m so all alone
There is no one else but you.
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 3,066 words
Fandom: Star Trek
Pairing: Chekov/Sulu
Summary: A 1920s AU where Sulu is an ex-pilot after an accident renders him useless. His life finds new meaning when he meets Pavel Andreivich, a Russian singer performing at The Cotton Club
New York City, 1927
Hikaru sat in his arm chair, fingers splayed out and pressed against the cool window pane. Through the chilled and warped glass came the noises of the street. Cars honked and hummed, and somewhere below Hikaru’s window a saxophone player was drawling out a sweet song that seeped through the bricks of his Harlem apartment. It was late, maybe ten o’clock, but outside Hikaru’s window was a world of lights and music that were just waking up.
Hikaru turned away from his window as he heard a key turn in the door to his small apartment. Jim entered, tripping over the shoes that had been carelessly left at the door.
“Why do you have to keep it so damn dark in here?” He grumbled as he brushed himself off.
“Saves money.” Hikaru sighed.
“Well I think you should turn on something. Even if you don’t think you need it, just common curtesy, y’know?”
Hikaru didn’t answer, waiting for Jim to explain why he was there on a Friday night. He usually stopped by on Wednesdays with his usual care package, pre-cooked meals and Hikaru’s dry cleaning. Jim had worked with him before the accident, before the explosion that rendered him useless without his cane. Not that anyone would consider him useful with the cane either.
“You,” Jim finally began. “Have been sitting in that chair for too long. Pretty soon your ass is going to have the imprint of a seat cushion, and then all you’ll have left going for you is your exotic oriental looks. Really Sulu, seat-cushion-asses are not going to get you in good with the ladies.” Jim stopped himself and shuffled his feet on the rug. “Or, you know… other people.” Hikaru grimaced and turned back to the window. Jim was the only person who knew, having walked in on Hikaru kissing his ex-boyfriend good bye after a tearful argument about how it couldn’t possibly work with Hikaru’s new condition. Harlem was a haven for men like him. He remembered sitting outside a small café one evening, reading a small yet panicked column on the rash of Harlem’s new “long haired men and short haired women.” Hikaru had never really tried out the statement look himself, knowing it would bring him even more comments on his “exotic” looks.
“Anyways,” Jim cleared his throat. “You do need to get out. You live in Harlem, for Christ’s sake! The Cotton Club, The Dark Tower-“
“I’m not allowed in the Cotton Club.” Hikaru glared. “Whites only.”
“With Captain James Tiberius Kirk, you’ll be allowed anywhere.” Jim declared. It wasn’t just his massive ego talking either, it was true. He had gotten Hikaru and their mutual friend Nyota into parties countless times before. In places where you should be hated, if you were hanging off the arm of Jim Kirk all you got were compliments on your exotic beauty.
“I can’t.” Hikaru finally said, staring at the floor as he made a futile effort to spend the rest of the night moping in his chair. “The music hurts my head.”
“Don’t be a wimp.” Jim laughed. “Listen, The Cotton Club is having a special musician tonight, some Russian kid that’s world famous. For tonight it’ll be a sophisticated theater, not a club where you’ll trip over the dancers and get headaches.” Hikaru didn’t have to look at Jim to know he was giving him the puppy-eyed look that always worked.
“Fine.” He groaned, standing up and grabbing his cane from where it leaned against the arm of his chair. Jim gave him a slap on the back before turning to lead the way, kicking the shoes out of their way first.
The Cotton Club was full when they got there, murmured excitement filled the club as people sat in their seats with nothing to do. Hikaru wondered what Admiral Pike would say about that. Probably something about how today’s youngsters where obsessed with instantaneous gratification and didn’t know how to wait. He used to visit the hangar often when Hikaru worked there, and usually lectured the pilots on how twisted the modern generation’s ideals were. Hikaru’s mind wandered as he thought about Pike. Did he still visit the hangar? He probably visited more often now that Hikaru and Nyota were gone. Nyota had been their secretary, quitting after Hikaru left her as the only minority in the whole building. She still visited him often, especially since they lived just a few blocks away. She was now running some kind of colored literary magazine that was selling like crazy.
“Sulu?” Jim shook Sulu’s shoulder, jolting him out of his thoughts. “You want a beer?”
“Hell yes.” Hikaru replied. Jim stood up and shuffled awkwardly out of the aisle of seats. Hikaru shifted in his chair until he was comfortable, then sat waiting for the hush that soon descended on the crowd as a man walked across the stage. His footsteps were light but solid, and there was an awkward squeak as he arrived at the middle of the stage and adjusted the microphone stand. He cleared his throat and it echoed through the suddenly silent club.
“Hello.” His voice sounded almost timid, uncharacteristic of the other performers Hikaru had seen here. "I am Pavel Andreivich.” He spoke after a pause. “It is an honor to perform here in this place.” His accent was thick, and obviously Russian. Hikaru loved the way it sounded, almost tangible, as if the words he spoke formed a physical shape in his mouth. He sighed and closed his eyes. There was an audible breath before Pavel began. A small band struck up behind him, playing soft and sweet.
Just like a melody that lingers on
You seem to haunt me night and day
I never realized till you had gone
How much I cared about you
I can’t live without you
It sounded like heaven. Pavel’s accent melted after the first few words. His voice transformed the song that was at once so familiar and so brand new. For a moment Hikaru couldn’t breathe, and he didn’t feel like he had to. Just that god damn voice filling the hall was all he needed to live.
The kid sang three more songs before he thanked the audience and left, his footsteps overpowered by the uproar of applause. Hikaru stood up too, applauding vigorously.
“Easy there.” Jim laughed. “Almost knocked the drinks out of my hand.” Sulu hadn’t even heard him return to his seat.
“That was amazing, Jim.” Hikaru smiled. “Did you hear him? He was amazing.”
“Yeah, he was pretty good.”
“Pretty good?” Hikaru gasped. “He’s an angel.”
“Well if you liked him so much you should go get his autograph.” Jim laughed. Hikaru nodded, not quite registering the joking tone. He grabbed his cane and shuffled out of the aisle.
“Woah, wait a second.” Jim followed. “I wasn’t serious-“
“Don’t worry, Jim, I won’t embarrass you by getting his autograph. I’m just going to tell him how much I liked his singing.” He headed in the direction of where he thought he remembered the backstage door being. His cane caught suddenly on a groove in the floor and he stumbled, Jim grabbing his arm so he didn’t fall. “Thanks.” He muttered. “Where’s the damn backstage door?”
“Here,” Jim sighed in defeat, leading Hikaru to the cool metal of a door handle. He pushed it open, suddenly surrounded by the warmth of the room. A surprised noise came from inside and he realized he’d forgotten to knock.
“Sorry.” He winced. Jim cleared his throat behind him, giving Hikaru an encouraging nudge. “Are you Pavel? The singer?”
“Da.” Came the reply from inside. “And you are?”
“My name’s Hikaru. I just wanted to tell you how amazing you are at singing. That was… I’d never heard anything like it.”
“Oh, thank you.” Pavel muttered. Hikaru could almost hear the embarrassment in his voice. He heard Jim retreat and he imagined he had given them a nod or a wave before doing so. “Please,” Pavel spoke suddenly. “Come in.”
Sulu dragged his cane in front of him, feeling the slight step down and accommodating for it. He heard a soft noise of realization from Pavel as he put two and two together.
“You are…”
“Blind? Yeah.” Sulu braced himself for the wave of pity.
“Thank you, I did not know the word in English.” Pavel laughed softly. He heard him cross the small room to close the door. “It is recent, da?”
“How do you…?” Sulu questioned.
“You still turn your eyes to follow the sounds. I saw you when I came on stage. You followed my feet sounds.”
“You saw me?” For some reason the thought of someone so important noticing Hikaru made him giddy. That, and the fact that Pavel had just said “feet sounds” instead of “footsteps,” Which was somehow endearing.
“Da, it is interesting. You are a… I do not know the word for them. You are a Yaposhka.”
“Japanese?” Hikaru hazarded a guess.
“Da, that is it. I have never met any Japanese. I have only heard of them from the war.”
“I never fought in the war.” Heu laughed. “I’m a second generation American.”
“Nyet, of course. You are too young also. I just thought it was interesting. You are much prettier than my Uncle says Japanese are supposed to be.” Pavel continued Sulu’s joking tone, but the words made Hikaru’s mouth go dry.
“Sorry, this is going to sound really weird.” he forced himself to ask, “Can I touch your face?”
There was a silence before Pavel muttered a “Da” that seemed embarrassed. Hikaru reached out tentatively, feeling Pavel’s hand reach back to guide his. He found his fingers softly pressed against the corner of Pavel’s jaw. He brought them upwards along his hot cheeks, feeling the definition in his face. An image began to form in his mind. Pavel’s skin was smooth and soft, probably pale. He felt the fuzz on his jaw, the kind that would give him a glow under the lights of the stage. His brows were soft, not too prominent, and his forehead sloped smoothly into a nest of curly hair. Hikaru was surprised to find he didn’t oil it back or even comb it over. It was nice, he didn’t smell like thickly scented lavender oil like Jim always did. As Hikaru’s thumb swept over Pavel’s cheek he felt the flutter of lashes, which caused a similar fluttering in his chest. Pavel’s hand found his again, dragging his hand gently down again, under his jaw, down his neck, and finally resting with Hikaru’s palm flat against Pavel’s chest.
“This is ok, yes?” Pavel’s voice shook, with what Hikaru couldn’t tell. “You are not in Harlem because you are black. You are not. You are here because you are of the men who live here?”
“I… If you’re saying what I think you’re saying…”
“You are not saying no.” Pavel sounded relieved. “This is why I come here. This club is famous, yes, and they serve good vodka, but this part of the city is for people like you and me.”
“Pavel.” Hikaru’s voice was almost a whisper. On a sudden impulse he reached out his other hand, letting his cane clatter to the ground. His thumb found Pavel’s bottom lip, and he slipped his hand to the back of Pavel’s head, pulling him close enough for Hikaru to lean in and press their lips together.
His lips were soft, but Pavel was strong. His arms flung immediately around Hikaru’s neck and shoulders, pulling him closer. It had been so long since Hikaru had done this, but soon he felt Pavel’s tongue swipe across his bottom lip and into his mouth, and he melted. Pavel must have felt him relax, as the next thing he knew he was being pushed backwards and landed on a soft couch. His lips were caught up again, and he felt Pavel climb over him, straddling his lap and rubbing the bulge in his pants against his own. Hikaru moaned, but pulled back from the kiss.
“Pavel,” He started.
“Pasha.” Pavel moaned. “Please, call me Pasha.” He lowered his mouth to Hikaru’s neck, biting hard enough that he knew Jim would ask questions later.
“Pasha,” Hikaru tried again, forgetting what he meant to say momentarily as Pavel whimpered at the name, rutting into him harder. “I… What are we doing?”
“I do not know the name.” Pavel sighed, pulling back to look into his eyes as he sensed the change in tone. “But it is good? You like it?”
“Hell yes, I love it, but I mean-“
“Hikasha,” Pavel sighed. “I will call you Hikasha, is this good? Hikasha, I do not know you very good. If you are asking if I want to know you more good, and do this again, then yes. I would like this.”
“I… really? But you’re not going to be here for long-“
“Why am I not?”
“You’re not leaving soon? You’re not going back to Russia?”
“No.” Pavel laughed. “I come here to live. To live in Harlem.”
“Oh.” Hikaru didn’t know what to say. He realized quickly he didn’t have to as Pavel took his hand and guided it down to cup the bulge in his slacks. Hikaru took the hint, rubbing through the soft fabric and feeling Pavel meet the touches with his own thrusts. They were both breathing heavily, giving up on kissing in favor of touching and sucking at each other. Pavel, who was focusing on Hikaru’s neck began to unbutton his shirt, slipping his hands under his jacket to slide the suspender straps off his shoulders. Hikaru took his hand away from Pavel’s crotch long enough to help, slipping the jacket off and unbuttoning from the other direction. As soon as his shirt parted Pavel leapt forward, kissing the smooth skin of Hikaru’s chest. Hikaru fumbled with the clasp of Pavel’s slacks, eventually undoing them and pulling them down along with his briefs. He felt Pavel’s freed erection rub against his stomach, the head already wet with pre-come.
Hikaru didn’t dare flip Pavel over forcefully on the off chance of dropping him and ruining the moment. Instead he guided him with one arm, sliding Pavel off of his lap and onto the couch. He slid a hand between the back of the couch and Pavel’s hip, using it to steady himself as he lowered his mouth down to Pavel’s cock. Pavel gave a breathy moan as Hikaru sucked tentatively on the flushed head, gently reaching up to push back the foreskin. He pulled back far enough to kiss the leaking slit of his cock before he slid his mouth down as far as he could. Pavel yelped in pleasure as Hikaru bobbed up and down, using his hand to cover what his mouth couldn’t reach. He could smell the Pavel’s lust, a mix of sweat and pre-come that made the air seem thick around them.
Pavel was muttering in Russian, shouting out what sounded like curses when Hikaru twisted his hand the right way or paid special attention to the head of his cock. Suddenly, Hikaru felt Pavel’s hand on his cheek, lifting his face up to face him. Pavel whispered something, his voice shaking with pleasure. Hikaru assumed a meaning, sliding up to kiss him. He missed at first, clashing his lips against Pavel’s chin, causing the younger to laugh slightly. He tried again, this time finding Pavel’s lips. As he sucked on Pavel’s lips his hand worked on his cock, moving and twisting, occasionally reaching up to tug lightly on the foreskin. Pavel moved underneath him in an intoxicating rhythm, tensing and relaxing with each up and down of Hikaru’s hand.
“Ah!” Pavel cried, pulling his lips back from Hikaru’s. “Hikasha! I’m going to-“ Pavel’s breathing sped up even more as he came, his cock spurting the hot stickiness up onto Hikaru’s slacks. Hikaru didn’t care. He kissed up Pavel’s jaw slowly, his hand sliding away from Pavel’s softening cock. Pavel muttered something softly as Hikaru nibbled on his earlobe.
“What was that?” Hikaru asked.
“You’re turn.” Pavel repeated before sliding off the couch. Hikaru sat up and felt Pavel kneel between his legs, his hot breath near his cock. He lifted his hips off the couch long enough for Pavel to slide his slacks down off of his legs. He felt his cock enveloped by the warm wetness of Pavel’s mouth which quickly began bobbing up and down. Hikaru leaned back on the couch, letting his hands knot themselves through Pavel’s hair. The Russian was making pleased noises, as though he was enjoying the very taste of Hikaru’s cock. He pulled back for a second, licking a warm stripe up the bottom of Hikaru’s cock as he cupped his balls. Hikaru arched his back, swinging his hips up into Pavel’s mouth again. He wasn’t as loud as Pavel, only heavy breaths escaping his lips. He felt a strange sensation that must have been a Pavel dragging his teeth lightly over the top of Hikaru’s cock, and his hand’s tightened in Pavel’s hair. He let one hand slide down to the back of Pavel’s head, testing the waters as he lightly pushed him closer. Pavel obeyed, swallowing up more of Hikaru’s cock as he pushed him further. Hikaru could feel his cock hit the back of Pavel’s throat, and briefly wondered how the hell Pavel could do that. Then Pavel started humming, his throat vibrating the head of Hikaru’s cock. Hikaru came without warning, hard enough to see stars. Pavel swallowed as much as he could, but Hikaru felt some ooze back out of his mouth. He reached down to wipe the come off the corner of Pavel’s mouth and was startled when Pavel seized his hand, licking it clean.
“That was… fuck, Pasha that was amazing.”
He didn’t reply, sitting down next to Hikaru and leaning against his shoulder. Hikaru felt Pavel’s fingers slide through his hair, combing it down. He felt lips against his own, and tasted himself in Pavel’s mouth.
The kid drew back, resting his head against Hikaru’s. He cleared his throat softly then began to sing.
His voice was soft and fragile, yet it filled the room they sat in.
All alone
I’m so all alone
There is no one else but you.