[fic] Fellows Will Fall in Line (ST: AOS)
Fellows Will Fall In Line
Fandom: Star Trek AOS
Ship: Joanna/Chekov
Rating: Adult (sex)
Summary: Inspired by this prompt at stxi_sinfest. She doesn't love going behind her dad's back. But that's kind of part of the thrill.
A/N: 1,200 words. This can be read as a one-shot or taken as a follow-up to Bloom and Grow.
There’s nothing wrong with what they’re doing. She’s in her second year at Cornell. He’s twenty-eight. That isn’t too old, not in her opinion. Her dad would probably beg to differ. Then again, he might not. Since she isn’t sure, and since she’s still young enough to sort of welcome his disapproval and sort of be afraid of it too, she doesn’t tell him about Pavel.
Not that there’s much to tell.
Yet.
That, Joanna has decided, is about to change.
The Enterprise is in geosynchronous orbit. The majority of the crew is planet-side, most of them either visiting friends and family or sightseeing. Captain Kirk, Commander Spock, Lieutenant Commander Uhura, and maybe a few other senior staff members are at Starfleet Academy, where Joanna’s dad is giving a talk.
Joanna sticks around for most of it; she’s pre-med, so this is interesting stuff to her, and anyway, it’s her dad, which is all kinds of awesome. But toward the end, when the floor has been opened for questions, she gets up and slips out.
As pre-arranged, Pavel beams her up to the Enterprise. He’s there as soon as she materializes on the transporter pad, taking her by the waist, lifting her down. It’s the silliest, most romantic thing he could have done, and she loves it, so she wraps her arms around his neck and kisses him.
It’s their first kiss in two years. Joanna makes it count.
She’s dizzy when his lips leave hers, and maybe he is too. His pupils seem blown, but with planets and stars dancing in front of her eyes, it’s a little difficult to tell. He takes her hand, and then they’re running, stumbling down the quiet corridors. Joanna keeps her head lowered, though it’s unlikely anyone would recognize her. She’s changed in the last two years. Her hair has grown out, for one thing. And her weight has shifted; she’s smaller at the waist, rounder at the hip and breast.
On an empty observation deck, she shows Pavel.
It’s dark - the only light seems to be coming from the Earth, shimmering like an opal far beneath them - but she thinks he might be blushing as she steps out of the pool of her dress and reaches around to unhook her bra.
“I can do zat,” he murmurs, but she’s faster than he is. The lace falls away and his hands touch her skin. He has big hands, and his fingertips are soft, cool. They brush her nipples and she lets her head tip back as a shiver rushes through her. Then he’s kissing her again, and stroking her, walking her backward in the direction of the transparent aluminum window.
Her own hands fumble with his hooks and zipper, and it’s a little bit awkward because she can’t see what she’s doing, and his hands are still on her breasts. Part of her wants to drag this out, make it last. Who knows when they’ll have another opportunity like this? Another part of her just wants him inside her, no more waiting. They’ve been sending each other steamy messages for two years; how much more foreplay do they need?
She can feel his erection through his underwear. She strokes him and moans when he responds by pushing his tongue between her lips.
By the time she gets his pants and underwear down, he’s leaking pre-come and her panties are soaked. It’s at this point that he takes charge, and she lets him. He yanks her panties off with an eagerness that excites her. She spreads her legs. He takes his cock in his hand, rubs the tip against her swollen clit. Coils of heat tighten in her belly. She doesn’t exactly fall, but suddenly her back is flat against the window, and it’s the only thing keeping her vertical.
“Come on,” she whispers against his mouth. “Pasha, please, I need…”
“Yes,” he replies, kissing her deeply as he bends his knees so she can wrap her legs around his waist, tightening his grip on her, then thrusting up into her.
He isn’t gentle. She cries out and grabs frantically at his shoulders.
This isn’t her first time. This isn’t even her first time with him. But she feels so unformed, so malleable. She can feel her body stretch to accommodate his. She’s hot and wet and there’s a kernel of something taking shape inside her, a newborn star beginning to pulse.
He slams her hard against the window, muttering “Sorry, sorry,” when she grunts. She responds by wrapping herself more tightly about him and biting his lower lip.
He moves in and out of her, fucking her against the window while the Earth turns below. She can see it out of the corner of her eye, blue and white and brown and perfect. If anyone with a really powerful telescope happened to point it skyward just then… They still wouldn’t see her and Pavel, but the idea turns her on even more.
She keens when she’s close. Digging his fingers into the soft skin of her ass, muttering endearments in Russian, he thrusts once - slamming her against the window. Twice - pulling her away again, so he’s supporting her completely. A third time - and then everything inside her goes nova.
In the haze of her orgasm, she’s dimly aware of him sinking to the floor. She feels rough carpet beneath her heels, then his thighs pressing her buttocks as he kneels with her on his lap. She strokes the sandy curls from his blue-gray eyes as he gives a few more shallow thrusts, then comes, his whole body stiffening, his mouth falling open around a moan.
They remain like that, each softening in the other’s arms, until the sweat on their bodies dries and they begin to shiver. Then, sore, slick, she rises awkwardly, letting him slip out of her, and goes to find her panties and bra.
As she’s bending to retrieve them - and presenting him with a hell of a view as she does - he says, sounding all out of breath, “Joanna, this does not have to be a secret.”
She doesn’t know what to say to that.
“Your father - I have seen him wery angry before. I have never seen him kill a man. I think that he vould not kill me.”
She turns and flashes him a smile. He’s looking up at her hopefully, though maybe a little abashedly too. She goes to him and sinks back into his arms. She kisses his lips. Opens her mouth to try to explain. She isn’t ashamed of what they’re doing. She loves him. Is pretty sure she does. It’s just that … she’s the same age her parents were when they got married. And look at how that turned out. He’s the same age her dad was when he left Savannah. Left her.
She doesn’t say all that. She can’t because she isn’t sure what it all means, just that it makes her reluctant to tell anyone - especially her dad - about this thing she and Pavel have.
He must sense that she’s stuck because he strokes her cheeks gently, coaxes her mouth back into a smile. She kisses him again. Kissing is so much easier than explaining.
3/12/10
Fandom: Star Trek AOS
Ship: Joanna/Chekov
Rating: Adult (sex)
Summary: Inspired by this prompt at stxi_sinfest. She doesn't love going behind her dad's back. But that's kind of part of the thrill.
A/N: 1,200 words. This can be read as a one-shot or taken as a follow-up to Bloom and Grow.
There’s nothing wrong with what they’re doing. She’s in her second year at Cornell. He’s twenty-eight. That isn’t too old, not in her opinion. Her dad would probably beg to differ. Then again, he might not. Since she isn’t sure, and since she’s still young enough to sort of welcome his disapproval and sort of be afraid of it too, she doesn’t tell him about Pavel.
Not that there’s much to tell.
Yet.
That, Joanna has decided, is about to change.
The Enterprise is in geosynchronous orbit. The majority of the crew is planet-side, most of them either visiting friends and family or sightseeing. Captain Kirk, Commander Spock, Lieutenant Commander Uhura, and maybe a few other senior staff members are at Starfleet Academy, where Joanna’s dad is giving a talk.
Joanna sticks around for most of it; she’s pre-med, so this is interesting stuff to her, and anyway, it’s her dad, which is all kinds of awesome. But toward the end, when the floor has been opened for questions, she gets up and slips out.
As pre-arranged, Pavel beams her up to the Enterprise. He’s there as soon as she materializes on the transporter pad, taking her by the waist, lifting her down. It’s the silliest, most romantic thing he could have done, and she loves it, so she wraps her arms around his neck and kisses him.
It’s their first kiss in two years. Joanna makes it count.
She’s dizzy when his lips leave hers, and maybe he is too. His pupils seem blown, but with planets and stars dancing in front of her eyes, it’s a little difficult to tell. He takes her hand, and then they’re running, stumbling down the quiet corridors. Joanna keeps her head lowered, though it’s unlikely anyone would recognize her. She’s changed in the last two years. Her hair has grown out, for one thing. And her weight has shifted; she’s smaller at the waist, rounder at the hip and breast.
On an empty observation deck, she shows Pavel.
It’s dark - the only light seems to be coming from the Earth, shimmering like an opal far beneath them - but she thinks he might be blushing as she steps out of the pool of her dress and reaches around to unhook her bra.
“I can do zat,” he murmurs, but she’s faster than he is. The lace falls away and his hands touch her skin. He has big hands, and his fingertips are soft, cool. They brush her nipples and she lets her head tip back as a shiver rushes through her. Then he’s kissing her again, and stroking her, walking her backward in the direction of the transparent aluminum window.
Her own hands fumble with his hooks and zipper, and it’s a little bit awkward because she can’t see what she’s doing, and his hands are still on her breasts. Part of her wants to drag this out, make it last. Who knows when they’ll have another opportunity like this? Another part of her just wants him inside her, no more waiting. They’ve been sending each other steamy messages for two years; how much more foreplay do they need?
She can feel his erection through his underwear. She strokes him and moans when he responds by pushing his tongue between her lips.
By the time she gets his pants and underwear down, he’s leaking pre-come and her panties are soaked. It’s at this point that he takes charge, and she lets him. He yanks her panties off with an eagerness that excites her. She spreads her legs. He takes his cock in his hand, rubs the tip against her swollen clit. Coils of heat tighten in her belly. She doesn’t exactly fall, but suddenly her back is flat against the window, and it’s the only thing keeping her vertical.
“Come on,” she whispers against his mouth. “Pasha, please, I need…”
“Yes,” he replies, kissing her deeply as he bends his knees so she can wrap her legs around his waist, tightening his grip on her, then thrusting up into her.
He isn’t gentle. She cries out and grabs frantically at his shoulders.
This isn’t her first time. This isn’t even her first time with him. But she feels so unformed, so malleable. She can feel her body stretch to accommodate his. She’s hot and wet and there’s a kernel of something taking shape inside her, a newborn star beginning to pulse.
He slams her hard against the window, muttering “Sorry, sorry,” when she grunts. She responds by wrapping herself more tightly about him and biting his lower lip.
He moves in and out of her, fucking her against the window while the Earth turns below. She can see it out of the corner of her eye, blue and white and brown and perfect. If anyone with a really powerful telescope happened to point it skyward just then… They still wouldn’t see her and Pavel, but the idea turns her on even more.
She keens when she’s close. Digging his fingers into the soft skin of her ass, muttering endearments in Russian, he thrusts once - slamming her against the window. Twice - pulling her away again, so he’s supporting her completely. A third time - and then everything inside her goes nova.
In the haze of her orgasm, she’s dimly aware of him sinking to the floor. She feels rough carpet beneath her heels, then his thighs pressing her buttocks as he kneels with her on his lap. She strokes the sandy curls from his blue-gray eyes as he gives a few more shallow thrusts, then comes, his whole body stiffening, his mouth falling open around a moan.
They remain like that, each softening in the other’s arms, until the sweat on their bodies dries and they begin to shiver. Then, sore, slick, she rises awkwardly, letting him slip out of her, and goes to find her panties and bra.
As she’s bending to retrieve them - and presenting him with a hell of a view as she does - he says, sounding all out of breath, “Joanna, this does not have to be a secret.”
She doesn’t know what to say to that.
“Your father - I have seen him wery angry before. I have never seen him kill a man. I think that he vould not kill me.”
She turns and flashes him a smile. He’s looking up at her hopefully, though maybe a little abashedly too. She goes to him and sinks back into his arms. She kisses his lips. Opens her mouth to try to explain. She isn’t ashamed of what they’re doing. She loves him. Is pretty sure she does. It’s just that … she’s the same age her parents were when they got married. And look at how that turned out. He’s the same age her dad was when he left Savannah. Left her.
She doesn’t say all that. She can’t because she isn’t sure what it all means, just that it makes her reluctant to tell anyone - especially her dad - about this thing she and Pavel have.
He must sense that she’s stuck because he strokes her cheeks gently, coaxes her mouth back into a smile. She kisses him again. Kissing is so much easier than explaining.
3/12/10