"Stupid Girl"
Title: Stupid Girl
Author: Fair Hearing
Pairing: ::clears throat:: Okay. Um, while at its smushy nougat center, this story is all about Chekov/Sulu and Uhura/Spock (being as their loves are so pure), I cannot tell a lie: it's Chekov/Uhura/Sulu. Decidedly.
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Explicit sex, threeway, slash(!), het(!!).
Kink request: "Sulu/Uhura/Chekov. Friends-with-benefits!" Though I upped up the angst and the fluff so I can perhaps look myself in the mirror in the morning.
"Come with me," said Chekov firmly, taking her by the elbow.
"But Hikaru isn't even there," said Uhura, trying not to cry in public, for Christ's sake, because what was she, fifteen?
"Doesn't matter. Now," he told her, when they were in the turbolift. "What happened?"
"Oh, Pavel." Uhura covered her eyes. "It's sweet of you to ask, really it is, but... it's kind of embarassing."
"It is because I am not good friend with you?"
"No! No, not that." She was tearing up again, for God's sake. "It's just -- I shouldn't be so upset -- and I know he doesn't mean it, and, God, I'm so sorry, I'm rambling."
"Nyota. Listen to me."
She looked up at him. Chekov was speaking in Russian, his eyes serious as he paused the turbolift.
"You're my friend. But beyond that, you're one of Hikaru's closest friends. That means you're one of my closest friends. And I certainly know you well enough to know you're hurting like hell right now, if you're letting me see you cry."
She took a few deep breaths, trying to control herself.
"And," he continued when the turbolift opened, leading her through the doors and into the hallway, "I'm pretty sure Hikaru and I are in agreement on this one, in that basically that we can't stand to see you like this. So," he concluded, tapping in the code on Sulu's door without looking, "you can try to talk to me instead, with the knowledge that I love you too and that I want to make you feel better, or you can leave me here --"
-- he fwumped down onto Hikaru's bed, looking up at her --
"-- absolutely heartbroken."
"Come on, Nyota," he said, when she hesitated. "Look at my eyes." He made them wider, to demonstrate. "I mean, I'm painfully adorable."
Uhura laughed a little, and sniffed.
"Okay, okay," she said in defeat, walking fully in and letting the doors close behind her.
"So what happened?" Chekov said softly, when she was sitting next to him, her legs tucked under her.
"Oh." She let out a shaky breath. "It's nothing new, really." It somehow felt easier to talk in Russian, as if all the parts that made her feel weak and childish and stupid were filtered out in translation. "It's just, I know he loves me. And I know he must find me, you know -- attractive, because he, he wants to be with me. And I know he can't, he can't really ever say it --"
She choked on the words, and pressed her lips together, hand over her eyes again.
"Don't hold yourself in," Chekov whispered to her. "It's not fair to you. Come on, solnyshko."
It was the term of endearment, after so long hearing only "Nyota" and "Lieutenant," that set her off at last. She started to cry outright.
"I," she said between choking sobs, "I, I'm stupid, I'm so stupid and childish and clichéd, but I just need, to hear it sometimes, that he thinks I'm, I'm beautiful or whatever, it's so stupid..."
When Chekov pulled her into a hug, she dissolved into tears.
"Shh, it's not stupid, God, Nyota, it's not stupid at all. Oh, Nyota," he murmured, and for a while she just let herself cry into an illogical soothing hug and listen to illogical soothing words.
The whoosh of the doors made her try to force herself to stop.
"I came as soon as I could," she could hear Sulu saying. "What's going..."
"Hi, Hikaru," said Uhura, looking up and trying to smile at him, but her mouth quivered dangerously.
"Hey," he said gently, looking worried and glancing at Chekov for an explanation.
"Hold on just a second," Chekov said to her, before he stood up and switched to English. "Hikaru, come to talk with me over here, okay?"
The two of them spoke together in soft murmurs. Uhura stared down at her hands, fiddling with Sulu's bedspread, and tried not to look as miserable as she felt.
"What?" she heard Sulu say, sudden and loud.
Chekov shrugged at him helplessly. "Is Vulcan," he started to say, but then Sulu had crossed the room to sit next to Uhura, looking incredulous.
"Are you kidding me, Nyota? Do you mean he's never said anything?"
"No, I mean, he's..." Uhura tried to think. "He's said things."
"Yeah, like what?"
She shook her head a little. This was dumb, this was so stupid, this shouldn't matter. "I'm sure I've asked him if he, if he likes how I look. And I'm sure he's said yes."
"Nyota," whispered Sulu, looking heartbroken.
"It's stupid!" Uhura said, slamming both fists onto the bed. "It's stupid, I'm stupid, and I'm just --"
So stupid, she told herself, as she choked into wordless sobs again. So juvenile and shallow, so not worthy to be with him.
"Nyota."
"I know what you're going to say, Hikaru, and I don't need --"
"Nyota," Sulu said again, taking her face in both hands.
She sniffed once and swallowed, imagining the wreck she must look right now, her face puffy and bags under her eyes and her stupid shallow mascara running down her face.
"You are gorgeous," Sulu told her, looking into her eyes.
She laughed once, bitterly.
A weight settled behind her on the bed.
"Stop it," Chekov said, in Russian. His voice was serious.
Uhura shook her head. "Listen, guys, I appreciate the pep-talk, but --"
She was interrupted by a hand on her chin, gently tilting her head up and to the side.
"You seriously don't know?" Chekov asked her, inches from her. He was glancing all over her face: her cheeks, her eyes, her chin, her mouth. "You seriously don't know."
"You are the most beautiful woman I've ever seen," he whispered at her lips.
"The only reason he deserves you," said Sulu, pulling her back, and then closer, until she was against his chest, looking up at his eyes, "is because you decided you want him." Sulu ran his thumb down her cheekbone, letting it rest lightly on her bottom lip.
Uhura couldn't say anything. The way Sulu was looking at her -- not like Spock, with an expression she couldn't guess at, or like the guys at bars, like the Captain, when she felt like a piece of candy they couldn't wait to try. Sulu was looking at her like it was a privilege only a few men were lucky to have, like there was nothing he'd rather be looking at in the universe.
Chekov was staring at her too, she could see it in the very edge of her peripheral vision, and stroking her hair. His breath was warm against her neck.
"I," was all she managed to say, before Sulu kissed her.
As he leaned in, Chekov leaned back, so that she was flush between the two of them, Chekov's warmth against her back, Sulu's against her breasts. The kiss was searching and open-mouthed enough that she could breathe through it, so she heard herself gasp when Chekov kissed her closed eyelid, then started a trail down her jaw.
"What," she said, and felt the two of them at her mouth, one licking, one opening. First Chekov, light touches with his tongue on hers, then when she gasped again, it was Sulu, rubbing soft, then rough. For a few minutes all they did was kiss her in prolonged turns.
She was panting a little, her eyes still closed, when they gave her a moment to breathe.
"I mean, Jesus, Pavel, she's fucking gorgeous," she heard Sulu whisper over her.
"I know. Hikaru, I want to."
"Me too."
She opened her eyes to see the two men staring at each other.
Chekov noticed she'd opened her eyes first. He lowered his head to whisper in her ear.
"Please, let us?"
He sounded controlled, like he was trying not to beg. Uhura had to close her eyes again at the hot jump his voice sparked in her stomach.
"Maybe he'll never be able to tell you," said Sulu, running his hand down her neck, resting it right at her heart, "but God, Nyota, we can."
She let out a whimper, and thank God they knew it meant "yes."
Sulu kissed her again, and it was wet and hot, and a little messy because Sulu and Chekov were trying to undress her between them, and because Chekov was making little noises, apparently at the sight of Sulu kissing her. Messy sex, some part of her brain that was still working said, imagine that: messy sex, and then Chekov was licking down her bare shoulder while still making those little noises, and her brain went respectfully quiet.
Chekov pulled her closer as Sulu lowered his kisses to her clavicles, then her breasts, sucking her nipples through the fabric of her bra. Uhura gasped, then gasped louder when Chekov moaned a little against her neck.
"God damn, Nyota," he whispered, in Russian again. "Your voice is so fucking... Say something."
I'm sorry, but I'm finding speech a bit difficult at the moment, she might have said if Sulu hadn't been breathing cool air on her nipples. Chekov seemed to understand, though, because he cupped one hand between her legs and started stroking her through the already-wet fabric.
"Ah," she cried softly, and both Chekov and Sulu rumbled at it.
"This thing," said Chekov to Sulu breathlessly, pulling at the elastic of Uhura's bra.
"I know, I hate them, I can't do it," mumbled Sulu against her navel.
"I can't either!"
Uhura let out an impatient whimper, took her right hand from Sulu's hair, reached back and undid the clasp in less than three seconds, and let her hand settle back onto Chekov's hair.
"Fucking awesome," Sulu whispered, gazing up at her in wonder for a moment.
She had to close her eyes again when Chekov reached around to take her tits in his hands, cupping and squeezing and caressing with, actually, surprising restraint for a teenager. When he pulled away, Uhura turned back to give him a hurt look. He only grinned down at her wickedly and licked the pads of both thumbs.
"Women like it like this, don't they?" he said, reaching around again, to knead her with both palms while his cool wet thumbs circled her nipples.
"Ah! Fuck," she said breathlessly. "And -- fuck -- and how would you know?"
"I read a lot."
"No speaking Russian in bed!" Sulu had paused in pulling down Uhura's panties, and he was looking decidedly churlish.
"He's just jealous because he never understands me when I come," Chekov told her, his voice hot in her ear. "I've seen him with Russian dictionaries when he thinks I'm asleep."
Uhura laughed breathlessly, bonelessly, her back arched and feeling so good, so stupidly happy, and then Sulu ran his tongue up her slit and her laugh turned into a wail.
"I said no Russian," murmured Sulu, his voice vibrating against her clit, and Uhura cried out something wordless.
"Fuck, Hikaru, make her do that again." Chekov was rubbing her nipples more roughly, his voice gone hoarse.
"Maybe I won't," said Sulu in a false-petulant voice, but he had already turned serious, parting Uhura's legs and spreading her open with one hand. He began to lick and suck at her clit, alternating with a smooth up-and-down stroke with two of his fingers.
"Ah! Fuck, ah, oh please, please," said Uhura breathlessly, her back arching, her head falling fully back onto Chekov's shoulder. Chekov gasped, his hands going still; she looked up through half-open eyes to see him staring at her.
"Hikaru," he said.
"Mmm?" Another vibration. Uhura arched again, keening.
"Fuck, Hikaru, you have to see -- she is about to --"
But Sulu only sped up, his tongue wet and rough and steady against her clit, moaning into her and pulling her to him like she actually tasted like nectar or honey or any of that bullshit she read in her mom's romance novels back when she was twelve, and yes, she was coming, bucking, crying out weakly even though she had no breath, shuddering and shuddering all through her body, shuddering between two hot bodies who loved her and were holding her and were staring at her because they thought she was beautiful.
She kept her eyes closed afterward and let the little tremors and aftershocks go through her, just breathing in tiny happy hums, because, God bless them to whatever heaven existed, Chekov and Sulu were both still rubbing at her, gently and slowly. Eventually her breathing slowed, and she swallowed, opening her eyes.
She was lying on the soft coverlet, still naked, both of them watching her and smiling -- grinning, in Chekov's case.
"How'd you learn how to do that," she murmured, thickly and between breaths, feeling like all the matter in the room had been replaced with soft fuzzy cotton balls. Warm ones.
"We read a lot," said Sulu, kissing her on the forehead.
"You sleep here tonight," Chekov added.
"Do I get a blanket?" Her eyes were already closing.
The two of them shared a glance.
"What?" she said, with a little laugh.
"Do we have to?" Chekov was pouting a little.
"We kind of wanted to look at you," said Sulu.
She looked up at them, into both pairs of serious eyes. She could feel tears welling up again. Yes, happy tears, okay, stupid happy tears that felt like they were healing her stupid happy heart.
"Okay," she said, with a little sniff, and smiled. "I just, didn't want to be cold."
"We will turn up heat," said Chekov, lying down next to her and stroking her hair.
"Okay," she said again, laughing a little so she wouldn't cry when Sulu curled up next to them, holding both of them close.
"Nyota," Chekov told her through the darkness, as she was beginning to fall asleep.
"Hmm?"
"All this we deliver as message from Commander Spock."
"Yeah. He would tell you this if he could. Trust us, Nyota."
"Okay," she said again, and she could feel herself smiling, and yes, smiling stupidly, because if there was anyone she would trust from now on, it was them.
Author: Fair Hearing
Pairing: ::clears throat:: Okay. Um, while at its smushy nougat center, this story is all about Chekov/Sulu and Uhura/Spock (being as their loves are so pure), I cannot tell a lie: it's Chekov/Uhura/Sulu. Decidedly.
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Explicit sex, threeway, slash(!), het(!!).
Kink request: "Sulu/Uhura/Chekov. Friends-with-benefits!" Though I upped up the angst and the fluff so I can perhaps look myself in the mirror in the morning.
"Come with me," said Chekov firmly, taking her by the elbow.
"But Hikaru isn't even there," said Uhura, trying not to cry in public, for Christ's sake, because what was she, fifteen?
"Doesn't matter. Now," he told her, when they were in the turbolift. "What happened?"
"Oh, Pavel." Uhura covered her eyes. "It's sweet of you to ask, really it is, but... it's kind of embarassing."
"It is because I am not good friend with you?"
"No! No, not that." She was tearing up again, for God's sake. "It's just -- I shouldn't be so upset -- and I know he doesn't mean it, and, God, I'm so sorry, I'm rambling."
"Nyota. Listen to me."
She looked up at him. Chekov was speaking in Russian, his eyes serious as he paused the turbolift.
"You're my friend. But beyond that, you're one of Hikaru's closest friends. That means you're one of my closest friends. And I certainly know you well enough to know you're hurting like hell right now, if you're letting me see you cry."
She took a few deep breaths, trying to control herself.
"And," he continued when the turbolift opened, leading her through the doors and into the hallway, "I'm pretty sure Hikaru and I are in agreement on this one, in that basically that we can't stand to see you like this. So," he concluded, tapping in the code on Sulu's door without looking, "you can try to talk to me instead, with the knowledge that I love you too and that I want to make you feel better, or you can leave me here --"
-- he fwumped down onto Hikaru's bed, looking up at her --
"-- absolutely heartbroken."
"Come on, Nyota," he said, when she hesitated. "Look at my eyes." He made them wider, to demonstrate. "I mean, I'm painfully adorable."
Uhura laughed a little, and sniffed.
"Okay, okay," she said in defeat, walking fully in and letting the doors close behind her.
"So what happened?" Chekov said softly, when she was sitting next to him, her legs tucked under her.
"Oh." She let out a shaky breath. "It's nothing new, really." It somehow felt easier to talk in Russian, as if all the parts that made her feel weak and childish and stupid were filtered out in translation. "It's just, I know he loves me. And I know he must find me, you know -- attractive, because he, he wants to be with me. And I know he can't, he can't really ever say it --"
She choked on the words, and pressed her lips together, hand over her eyes again.
"Don't hold yourself in," Chekov whispered to her. "It's not fair to you. Come on, solnyshko."
It was the term of endearment, after so long hearing only "Nyota" and "Lieutenant," that set her off at last. She started to cry outright.
"I," she said between choking sobs, "I, I'm stupid, I'm so stupid and childish and clichéd, but I just need, to hear it sometimes, that he thinks I'm, I'm beautiful or whatever, it's so stupid..."
When Chekov pulled her into a hug, she dissolved into tears.
"Shh, it's not stupid, God, Nyota, it's not stupid at all. Oh, Nyota," he murmured, and for a while she just let herself cry into an illogical soothing hug and listen to illogical soothing words.
The whoosh of the doors made her try to force herself to stop.
"I came as soon as I could," she could hear Sulu saying. "What's going..."
"Hi, Hikaru," said Uhura, looking up and trying to smile at him, but her mouth quivered dangerously.
"Hey," he said gently, looking worried and glancing at Chekov for an explanation.
"Hold on just a second," Chekov said to her, before he stood up and switched to English. "Hikaru, come to talk with me over here, okay?"
The two of them spoke together in soft murmurs. Uhura stared down at her hands, fiddling with Sulu's bedspread, and tried not to look as miserable as she felt.
"What?" she heard Sulu say, sudden and loud.
Chekov shrugged at him helplessly. "Is Vulcan," he started to say, but then Sulu had crossed the room to sit next to Uhura, looking incredulous.
"Are you kidding me, Nyota? Do you mean he's never said anything?"
"No, I mean, he's..." Uhura tried to think. "He's said things."
"Yeah, like what?"
She shook her head a little. This was dumb, this was so stupid, this shouldn't matter. "I'm sure I've asked him if he, if he likes how I look. And I'm sure he's said yes."
"Nyota," whispered Sulu, looking heartbroken.
"It's stupid!" Uhura said, slamming both fists onto the bed. "It's stupid, I'm stupid, and I'm just --"
So stupid, she told herself, as she choked into wordless sobs again. So juvenile and shallow, so not worthy to be with him.
"Nyota."
"I know what you're going to say, Hikaru, and I don't need --"
"Nyota," Sulu said again, taking her face in both hands.
She sniffed once and swallowed, imagining the wreck she must look right now, her face puffy and bags under her eyes and her stupid shallow mascara running down her face.
"You are gorgeous," Sulu told her, looking into her eyes.
She laughed once, bitterly.
A weight settled behind her on the bed.
"Stop it," Chekov said, in Russian. His voice was serious.
Uhura shook her head. "Listen, guys, I appreciate the pep-talk, but --"
She was interrupted by a hand on her chin, gently tilting her head up and to the side.
"You seriously don't know?" Chekov asked her, inches from her. He was glancing all over her face: her cheeks, her eyes, her chin, her mouth. "You seriously don't know."
"You are the most beautiful woman I've ever seen," he whispered at her lips.
"The only reason he deserves you," said Sulu, pulling her back, and then closer, until she was against his chest, looking up at his eyes, "is because you decided you want him." Sulu ran his thumb down her cheekbone, letting it rest lightly on her bottom lip.
Uhura couldn't say anything. The way Sulu was looking at her -- not like Spock, with an expression she couldn't guess at, or like the guys at bars, like the Captain, when she felt like a piece of candy they couldn't wait to try. Sulu was looking at her like it was a privilege only a few men were lucky to have, like there was nothing he'd rather be looking at in the universe.
Chekov was staring at her too, she could see it in the very edge of her peripheral vision, and stroking her hair. His breath was warm against her neck.
"I," was all she managed to say, before Sulu kissed her.
As he leaned in, Chekov leaned back, so that she was flush between the two of them, Chekov's warmth against her back, Sulu's against her breasts. The kiss was searching and open-mouthed enough that she could breathe through it, so she heard herself gasp when Chekov kissed her closed eyelid, then started a trail down her jaw.
"What," she said, and felt the two of them at her mouth, one licking, one opening. First Chekov, light touches with his tongue on hers, then when she gasped again, it was Sulu, rubbing soft, then rough. For a few minutes all they did was kiss her in prolonged turns.
She was panting a little, her eyes still closed, when they gave her a moment to breathe.
"I mean, Jesus, Pavel, she's fucking gorgeous," she heard Sulu whisper over her.
"I know. Hikaru, I want to."
"Me too."
She opened her eyes to see the two men staring at each other.
Chekov noticed she'd opened her eyes first. He lowered his head to whisper in her ear.
"Please, let us?"
He sounded controlled, like he was trying not to beg. Uhura had to close her eyes again at the hot jump his voice sparked in her stomach.
"Maybe he'll never be able to tell you," said Sulu, running his hand down her neck, resting it right at her heart, "but God, Nyota, we can."
She let out a whimper, and thank God they knew it meant "yes."
Sulu kissed her again, and it was wet and hot, and a little messy because Sulu and Chekov were trying to undress her between them, and because Chekov was making little noises, apparently at the sight of Sulu kissing her. Messy sex, some part of her brain that was still working said, imagine that: messy sex, and then Chekov was licking down her bare shoulder while still making those little noises, and her brain went respectfully quiet.
Chekov pulled her closer as Sulu lowered his kisses to her clavicles, then her breasts, sucking her nipples through the fabric of her bra. Uhura gasped, then gasped louder when Chekov moaned a little against her neck.
"God damn, Nyota," he whispered, in Russian again. "Your voice is so fucking... Say something."
I'm sorry, but I'm finding speech a bit difficult at the moment, she might have said if Sulu hadn't been breathing cool air on her nipples. Chekov seemed to understand, though, because he cupped one hand between her legs and started stroking her through the already-wet fabric.
"Ah," she cried softly, and both Chekov and Sulu rumbled at it.
"This thing," said Chekov to Sulu breathlessly, pulling at the elastic of Uhura's bra.
"I know, I hate them, I can't do it," mumbled Sulu against her navel.
"I can't either!"
Uhura let out an impatient whimper, took her right hand from Sulu's hair, reached back and undid the clasp in less than three seconds, and let her hand settle back onto Chekov's hair.
"Fucking awesome," Sulu whispered, gazing up at her in wonder for a moment.
She had to close her eyes again when Chekov reached around to take her tits in his hands, cupping and squeezing and caressing with, actually, surprising restraint for a teenager. When he pulled away, Uhura turned back to give him a hurt look. He only grinned down at her wickedly and licked the pads of both thumbs.
"Women like it like this, don't they?" he said, reaching around again, to knead her with both palms while his cool wet thumbs circled her nipples.
"Ah! Fuck," she said breathlessly. "And -- fuck -- and how would you know?"
"I read a lot."
"No speaking Russian in bed!" Sulu had paused in pulling down Uhura's panties, and he was looking decidedly churlish.
"He's just jealous because he never understands me when I come," Chekov told her, his voice hot in her ear. "I've seen him with Russian dictionaries when he thinks I'm asleep."
Uhura laughed breathlessly, bonelessly, her back arched and feeling so good, so stupidly happy, and then Sulu ran his tongue up her slit and her laugh turned into a wail.
"I said no Russian," murmured Sulu, his voice vibrating against her clit, and Uhura cried out something wordless.
"Fuck, Hikaru, make her do that again." Chekov was rubbing her nipples more roughly, his voice gone hoarse.
"Maybe I won't," said Sulu in a false-petulant voice, but he had already turned serious, parting Uhura's legs and spreading her open with one hand. He began to lick and suck at her clit, alternating with a smooth up-and-down stroke with two of his fingers.
"Ah! Fuck, ah, oh please, please," said Uhura breathlessly, her back arching, her head falling fully back onto Chekov's shoulder. Chekov gasped, his hands going still; she looked up through half-open eyes to see him staring at her.
"Hikaru," he said.
"Mmm?" Another vibration. Uhura arched again, keening.
"Fuck, Hikaru, you have to see -- she is about to --"
But Sulu only sped up, his tongue wet and rough and steady against her clit, moaning into her and pulling her to him like she actually tasted like nectar or honey or any of that bullshit she read in her mom's romance novels back when she was twelve, and yes, she was coming, bucking, crying out weakly even though she had no breath, shuddering and shuddering all through her body, shuddering between two hot bodies who loved her and were holding her and were staring at her because they thought she was beautiful.
She kept her eyes closed afterward and let the little tremors and aftershocks go through her, just breathing in tiny happy hums, because, God bless them to whatever heaven existed, Chekov and Sulu were both still rubbing at her, gently and slowly. Eventually her breathing slowed, and she swallowed, opening her eyes.
She was lying on the soft coverlet, still naked, both of them watching her and smiling -- grinning, in Chekov's case.
"How'd you learn how to do that," she murmured, thickly and between breaths, feeling like all the matter in the room had been replaced with soft fuzzy cotton balls. Warm ones.
"We read a lot," said Sulu, kissing her on the forehead.
"You sleep here tonight," Chekov added.
"Do I get a blanket?" Her eyes were already closing.
The two of them shared a glance.
"What?" she said, with a little laugh.
"Do we have to?" Chekov was pouting a little.
"We kind of wanted to look at you," said Sulu.
She looked up at them, into both pairs of serious eyes. She could feel tears welling up again. Yes, happy tears, okay, stupid happy tears that felt like they were healing her stupid happy heart.
"Okay," she said, with a little sniff, and smiled. "I just, didn't want to be cold."
"We will turn up heat," said Chekov, lying down next to her and stroking her hair.
"Okay," she said again, laughing a little so she wouldn't cry when Sulu curled up next to them, holding both of them close.
"Nyota," Chekov told her through the darkness, as she was beginning to fall asleep.
"Hmm?"
"All this we deliver as message from Commander Spock."
"Yeah. He would tell you this if he could. Trust us, Nyota."
"Okay," she said again, and she could feel herself smiling, and yes, smiling stupidly, because if there was anyone she would trust from now on, it was them.