[fic] I forgot how to cry (Chekov/Sulu), Star Trek
Title: I forgot how to cry
Rating: Hard R/Soft NC-17
Pairing/character(s): Pavel Chekov/Hikaru Sulu
Word Count: 1,000
Disclaimer: Soooo not mine.
Summary: Sex was nothing like love.
Warnings: A bit bittersweet, I guess.
Notes: Wrote for Prompt#3 from Star Trek Ship Wars over at st_respect. Theme: NCC-17 (Get Naked). The title’s from No, I Don't Remember, song by Anna Ternheim.
Thanks to: my beta theotherdibbler for being such an incredible person and for making this so much better than it originally was. ::licks her::
Love, you see, was overrated. In the Era of Science, Spaceships and Cosmic Exploration you couldn’t really rely on something as unstable as a feeling. That’s what most people thought, at least what most people in Starfleet believed. Because although they all had their dates and some of them even found someone to marry, their dedication to science always came in first place. They longed for space, for the thrill, the emotion. They left behind parents, spouses and children without a second thought.
Sex, on the other hand, was simple. People didn’t have to abandon their science for it. They could fool around and the very next day make their way to the bridge like nothing out of the ordinary had ever happened. They could look at the pilot by their side, follow his lead and punch in changes to the course like they did everyday. They could pretend as they ran their hands over the conn that they weren’t dying for a glimpse of a smile. Like the one he gave them last night, right after he fucked them fast and hard in his quarters.
Sex was nothing like love. It had a pace, a rhythm, a common goal. Love was just messy and unpredictable.
When he enlisted in Starfleet, Pavel Andreievich Chekov had an objective. He wanted to be assigned to the best ship in the entire fleet before he turned eighteen. To be the youngest navigator, to be respected as the genius he knew he was. He wanted only the cold brightness of the stars, all the maps he could delineate under his fingertips.
When Pavel was in Hikaru’s bed, running his fingers over the pilot’s bare chest, he didn’t think that maybe he was just trying to find the safest way to his heart.
Because that way couldn’t ever be safe. Pavel didn’t know he was looking for love. He thought he wanted only acceptance and admiration. Some jealously maybe. He didn’t know, when Hikaru asked if he wanted to play chess with him, that the feeling flooding his chest was anxiety and then happiness. But Pavel was a genius, after all. He eventually realized the meaning of the cold sweat on his hands and the increased pace of his heartbeats. At first, he panicked. Later, he denied it.
He didn’t turn down Hikaru’s invitations to fencing lessons and late visits to the greenhouse, though. And Pavel definitely wasn’t planning to give up the sex.
In the Academy he didn’t have the time. He didn’t have the looks, the necessary mutual respect. Back then people used to look at him like Pavel was an innocent, small pet who knew a few tricks with physics and for that he deserved a pat on his curly head followed by a whispered good boy. But not Hikaru. Hikaru treated him like an equal. He didn’t kiss him like Pavel was a fucking damsel in distress. Nothing of chaste, closed lips, with no tongue or teeth. And if Pavel stopped for a minute and thought about it, he could say that their first kiss was just like love was. Messy.
Unpredictable.
Not the sex. Not that they planned what they would do, but there was a strange order to things. A pre-established chaos of hands and legs. Hikaru would take off Pavel’s clothes before getting rid of his own. He would kiss the line of Pavel’s jaw, whispering about how soft his skin was or how his fading freckles would disappear under the hickeys he would leave on his way. Pavel would laugh and climb on top of Hikaru, kissing him hard, his hands clutching the dark hair like he needed to hold onto something to not fall.
They wouldn’t exchange looks as Pavel went down on him, wrapping Hikaru’s cock with one hand and sucking him, making him hard and ready. And Pavel wouldn’t stop until he felt Hikaru’s hand on his cheek, his mouth slightly open in an incomplete plea. He couldn’t help a smug smile, but he would let Hikaru hold him so he could kiss Pavel’s swollen lips. Hikaru would make Pavel ride him. Slowly at first, like they both needed to get used to it. Then harder and deeper.
Pavel would close his eyes, feeling Hikaru’s fingers gripping his hips, leaving bruises and making him move faster. Pavel would bite his lower lip while he jerked himself off, feeling more pleasure in knowing Hikaru was watching him than in the act itself. The thrusts of his hips would increase along with the touch of his hand and Pavel would only open his eyes once Hikaru let a louder moan out, his grip on Pavel’s hips starting to hurt.
Pavel would open his eyes so he could watch Hikaru’s face when he finally came inside him. His skin glowing with sweat and release. His face beautiful, undone. Pavel would lean over to kiss Hikaru and this time, yes, that would be a chaste kiss, without tongue or teeth. Their lips would remain pressed together as Hikaru slid a hand between their bodies, wrapping around Pavel’s still hard cock, stimulating him until Pavel came all over their stomachs.
They wouldn’t move until their breathing settled down. Only then Pavel would cuddle Hikaru and pull a sheet to cover them both, his face pressed to Hikaru’s neck, his fingertips tracing an invisible map over his chest. They would talk about nothing until they fell asleep. And Pavel’s last thought before sleep claimed him would be a question. Not an easy one, but still simple.
What would you do if I told you that I think I’m in love with you?
And in his dreams, Hikaru would never answer that love was overrated. He would smile like he smiled every day on the bridge. A half-smile. A bit shy, but still confident and truly assured of something that Pavel didn’t understand. Then Hikaru would hold Pavel closer and whisper in his ear. Like a secret.
I love you too.
Rating: Hard R/Soft NC-17
Pairing/character(s): Pavel Chekov/Hikaru Sulu
Word Count: 1,000
Disclaimer: Soooo not mine.
Summary: Sex was nothing like love.
Warnings: A bit bittersweet, I guess.
Notes: Wrote for Prompt#3 from Star Trek Ship Wars over at st_respect. Theme: NCC-17 (Get Naked). The title’s from No, I Don't Remember, song by Anna Ternheim.
Thanks to: my beta theotherdibbler for being such an incredible person and for making this so much better than it originally was. ::licks her::
Love, you see, was overrated. In the Era of Science, Spaceships and Cosmic Exploration you couldn’t really rely on something as unstable as a feeling. That’s what most people thought, at least what most people in Starfleet believed. Because although they all had their dates and some of them even found someone to marry, their dedication to science always came in first place. They longed for space, for the thrill, the emotion. They left behind parents, spouses and children without a second thought.
Sex, on the other hand, was simple. People didn’t have to abandon their science for it. They could fool around and the very next day make their way to the bridge like nothing out of the ordinary had ever happened. They could look at the pilot by their side, follow his lead and punch in changes to the course like they did everyday. They could pretend as they ran their hands over the conn that they weren’t dying for a glimpse of a smile. Like the one he gave them last night, right after he fucked them fast and hard in his quarters.
Sex was nothing like love. It had a pace, a rhythm, a common goal. Love was just messy and unpredictable.
When he enlisted in Starfleet, Pavel Andreievich Chekov had an objective. He wanted to be assigned to the best ship in the entire fleet before he turned eighteen. To be the youngest navigator, to be respected as the genius he knew he was. He wanted only the cold brightness of the stars, all the maps he could delineate under his fingertips.
When Pavel was in Hikaru’s bed, running his fingers over the pilot’s bare chest, he didn’t think that maybe he was just trying to find the safest way to his heart.
Because that way couldn’t ever be safe. Pavel didn’t know he was looking for love. He thought he wanted only acceptance and admiration. Some jealously maybe. He didn’t know, when Hikaru asked if he wanted to play chess with him, that the feeling flooding his chest was anxiety and then happiness. But Pavel was a genius, after all. He eventually realized the meaning of the cold sweat on his hands and the increased pace of his heartbeats. At first, he panicked. Later, he denied it.
He didn’t turn down Hikaru’s invitations to fencing lessons and late visits to the greenhouse, though. And Pavel definitely wasn’t planning to give up the sex.
In the Academy he didn’t have the time. He didn’t have the looks, the necessary mutual respect. Back then people used to look at him like Pavel was an innocent, small pet who knew a few tricks with physics and for that he deserved a pat on his curly head followed by a whispered good boy. But not Hikaru. Hikaru treated him like an equal. He didn’t kiss him like Pavel was a fucking damsel in distress. Nothing of chaste, closed lips, with no tongue or teeth. And if Pavel stopped for a minute and thought about it, he could say that their first kiss was just like love was. Messy.
Unpredictable.
Not the sex. Not that they planned what they would do, but there was a strange order to things. A pre-established chaos of hands and legs. Hikaru would take off Pavel’s clothes before getting rid of his own. He would kiss the line of Pavel’s jaw, whispering about how soft his skin was or how his fading freckles would disappear under the hickeys he would leave on his way. Pavel would laugh and climb on top of Hikaru, kissing him hard, his hands clutching the dark hair like he needed to hold onto something to not fall.
They wouldn’t exchange looks as Pavel went down on him, wrapping Hikaru’s cock with one hand and sucking him, making him hard and ready. And Pavel wouldn’t stop until he felt Hikaru’s hand on his cheek, his mouth slightly open in an incomplete plea. He couldn’t help a smug smile, but he would let Hikaru hold him so he could kiss Pavel’s swollen lips. Hikaru would make Pavel ride him. Slowly at first, like they both needed to get used to it. Then harder and deeper.
Pavel would close his eyes, feeling Hikaru’s fingers gripping his hips, leaving bruises and making him move faster. Pavel would bite his lower lip while he jerked himself off, feeling more pleasure in knowing Hikaru was watching him than in the act itself. The thrusts of his hips would increase along with the touch of his hand and Pavel would only open his eyes once Hikaru let a louder moan out, his grip on Pavel’s hips starting to hurt.
Pavel would open his eyes so he could watch Hikaru’s face when he finally came inside him. His skin glowing with sweat and release. His face beautiful, undone. Pavel would lean over to kiss Hikaru and this time, yes, that would be a chaste kiss, without tongue or teeth. Their lips would remain pressed together as Hikaru slid a hand between their bodies, wrapping around Pavel’s still hard cock, stimulating him until Pavel came all over their stomachs.
They wouldn’t move until their breathing settled down. Only then Pavel would cuddle Hikaru and pull a sheet to cover them both, his face pressed to Hikaru’s neck, his fingertips tracing an invisible map over his chest. They would talk about nothing until they fell asleep. And Pavel’s last thought before sleep claimed him would be a question. Not an easy one, but still simple.
What would you do if I told you that I think I’m in love with you?
And in his dreams, Hikaru would never answer that love was overrated. He would smile like he smiled every day on the bridge. A half-smile. A bit shy, but still confident and truly assured of something that Pavel didn’t understand. Then Hikaru would hold Pavel closer and whisper in his ear. Like a secret.
I love you too.