[oneshot] to boldly go
Title: to boldly go
Pairing: gtop
Rating: pg13
Genre: au, gen
Warnings: swearing
Author: gdgdbaby
Notes: advent calendar day 7, for upchucked. starfleet academy au that boldly goes nowhere, really. 1,059 words.
"Anyway, you'd never be able to make it through a five-year mission," Seunghyun's saying, bent over the table like he wants to stick his face into the greasy basket of peanuts next to the salt and pepper shakers. He waves his beer bottle at Jiyong. "You love showering with actual water too much, see. You'd go crazy with the sonics-"
"I'm not that anal," Jiyong protests icily. "I'm adaptable." He frowns and takes a sip of his cocktail. "You're the one who's fucked-all you've learned these past three years is how to rap in pre-warp E, and you didn't even pick that up at the academy." He raises a thin eyebrow, crosses his arms. "Also, I'd really like watch you deal with five years of the shit synthenol the replicators spew out."
Seunghyun grimaces. "Point taken. We'd both be miserable."
"And yet," he says, lets the phrase hang in the air.
Seunghyun drains the rest of his beer and gets up. "I need another drink."
Jiyong leans back against the booth as Seunghyun disappears into the crowd. It's a weeknight, but the entire club's still filled with other cadets, all of them drunk or very close to it. Two tables away, a hapless Andorian is trying to play Cardassian sunrise pong with Chaerin, who casually sinks her last three ping-pong balls all at once, pats her opponent on the back, and picks through the crowd to Jiyong's table.
"With that kind of aim-" he drawls smarmily, but she just laughs.
"Don't even start, man."
"I was going to say that maybe you should consider switching tracks to flight school," Jiyong says, shrugging. "They could use someone with your reflexes."
"Nah," she replies. She steals his glass and fishes a maraschino cherry out of it, pops it in her mouth. "I don't want to be a pilot."
"So you want to be a pencil-pusher instead?"
"Don't be stupid," she says drily, nudging him in the side with her elbow. "Communications isn't pencil-pushing. How can anything be, in space?"
Seunghyun comes back with shot glasses, a bottle of springwine, and a mango mojito for Jiyong. "Is he going off on you, too?" he asks her, grinning. "I think he's just nervous about tomorrow."
"I'm not nervous," Jiyong snaps testily. "Listen, I'm just here to unwind after a stressful day, alright?"
"The lady doth protest too much, methinks," Seunghyun remarks.
"Don't quote Shakespeare at me," he says, outraged.
"You are pretty tense," Chaerin points out, rubbing smooth circles around the knobs of his spine. "You'll do great."
"Of course I will," he grouses into his empty martini glass. Seunghyun shakes his head and starts pouring the springwine out.
Jiyong's reaching over to start in on the mojito when it's snatched out of reach by someone else. He looks up and-"What the hell?"
Youngbae glares down at him, his other hand cocked on his hip. He looks like some sort of stern librarian, though the terrible cornrows are throwing things off a bit. "What are you doing here? Shouldn't you preparing for the Kobayashi-"
"What is there to prepare for?" Jiyong interrupts. "Everything I need to know has already been taught to me. One hopes. Give me back my drink."
"Honestly," Youngbae says, brows furrowed. He holds it up higher.
Jiyong folds his arms and scowls. "Why are you here, anyway? You don't drink."
"Maybe he's meeting someone," Chaerin jokes.
Youngbae turns red and doesn't say anything.
Seunghyun's eyebrows rise so high they almost disappear beneath the fringe of his hair. "Really?"
"It's not what you think," he mutters. Jiyong takes advantage of the distraction to reappropriate his mojito. Youngbae goes off on a long, convoluted tirade about how he's definitely not meeting anyone at the campus bar for drinks because that's not a thing he would do, ever. Seunghyun sends him an amused look from across the table. Chaerin feigns polite interest but Jiyong can see her eyeing the complicated game of blackout going on in the next room.
The truth is-when all is said and done, he'd live with sonic showers and Seunghyun would live with the replicated alcohol, because the only thing they've ever wanted since they were tetchy little brats running around Starfleet's doorstep, growing up on half-formed dreams of the endless vacuum of space, Ex astris, scientia burned into the very essence of who they are-the only thing that's ever mattered to any of them is the chance to take a starship and explore the galaxy. It takes a very specific type of person to suffer through training as rigorous as theirs and stay recklessly passionate enough to yearn for it, so much that it becomes as necessary as breathing.
So they'd groan and complain and Youngbae's parents would threaten to disown him if he abandoned them for space, but at the end of the day they'd all still be here, slaving away at astrophysics, robotics, xenolinguistics-anything to get them where they wanted to go. Nothing else would fit. Jiyong doesn't think he could ever want anything more.
He's faintly aware that Youngbae's finally winding down on his fucking oral defense-or rather, he finally spots the not-girl he's not meeting. His mouth snaps shut and he slinks away before anyone can get a word in edgewise.
"I'm pretty sure that lady doth protesteth way more than I did," Jiyong says blandly. Chaerin laughs again. "Run comms for me tomorrow?"
She gets up and pats him on the shoulder. "Wouldn't miss it for the world. But first-duty calls."
"Don't hurt 'em too badly," Seunghyun yells after her. The Andorian from before sees her coming and scurries away from the blackout table like his life depends on it. Considering the rather abysmal effects of Romulan ale poisoning, it probably does.
Jiyong chews on a mint leaf and crosses his legs on the seat of his chair. "You'll be there too, won't you?"
"I'm offended you even have to ask," Seunghyun says, mild. He downs a shot of springwine and winces at the aftertaste, makes a flippant gesture in the air with his hand. "You really will be fine, you know. You worry too much."
"And you don't worry enough."
"It's a good thing we have each other, then," he says, pressing an earnest hand to his chest, and grins when Jiyong rolls his eyes.
fin
A/N: LAWWWD LMAO I KEEP APOLOGIZING IN THESE but honestly. this is the most pointless thing ever and I AM SORRY MARIA ;_; I TRIED
Pairing: gtop
Rating: pg13
Genre: au, gen
Warnings: swearing
Author: gdgdbaby
Notes: advent calendar day 7, for upchucked. starfleet academy au that boldly goes nowhere, really. 1,059 words.
"Anyway, you'd never be able to make it through a five-year mission," Seunghyun's saying, bent over the table like he wants to stick his face into the greasy basket of peanuts next to the salt and pepper shakers. He waves his beer bottle at Jiyong. "You love showering with actual water too much, see. You'd go crazy with the sonics-"
"I'm not that anal," Jiyong protests icily. "I'm adaptable." He frowns and takes a sip of his cocktail. "You're the one who's fucked-all you've learned these past three years is how to rap in pre-warp E, and you didn't even pick that up at the academy." He raises a thin eyebrow, crosses his arms. "Also, I'd really like watch you deal with five years of the shit synthenol the replicators spew out."
Seunghyun grimaces. "Point taken. We'd both be miserable."
"And yet," he says, lets the phrase hang in the air.
Seunghyun drains the rest of his beer and gets up. "I need another drink."
Jiyong leans back against the booth as Seunghyun disappears into the crowd. It's a weeknight, but the entire club's still filled with other cadets, all of them drunk or very close to it. Two tables away, a hapless Andorian is trying to play Cardassian sunrise pong with Chaerin, who casually sinks her last three ping-pong balls all at once, pats her opponent on the back, and picks through the crowd to Jiyong's table.
"With that kind of aim-" he drawls smarmily, but she just laughs.
"Don't even start, man."
"I was going to say that maybe you should consider switching tracks to flight school," Jiyong says, shrugging. "They could use someone with your reflexes."
"Nah," she replies. She steals his glass and fishes a maraschino cherry out of it, pops it in her mouth. "I don't want to be a pilot."
"So you want to be a pencil-pusher instead?"
"Don't be stupid," she says drily, nudging him in the side with her elbow. "Communications isn't pencil-pushing. How can anything be, in space?"
Seunghyun comes back with shot glasses, a bottle of springwine, and a mango mojito for Jiyong. "Is he going off on you, too?" he asks her, grinning. "I think he's just nervous about tomorrow."
"I'm not nervous," Jiyong snaps testily. "Listen, I'm just here to unwind after a stressful day, alright?"
"The lady doth protest too much, methinks," Seunghyun remarks.
"Don't quote Shakespeare at me," he says, outraged.
"You are pretty tense," Chaerin points out, rubbing smooth circles around the knobs of his spine. "You'll do great."
"Of course I will," he grouses into his empty martini glass. Seunghyun shakes his head and starts pouring the springwine out.
Jiyong's reaching over to start in on the mojito when it's snatched out of reach by someone else. He looks up and-"What the hell?"
Youngbae glares down at him, his other hand cocked on his hip. He looks like some sort of stern librarian, though the terrible cornrows are throwing things off a bit. "What are you doing here? Shouldn't you preparing for the Kobayashi-"
"What is there to prepare for?" Jiyong interrupts. "Everything I need to know has already been taught to me. One hopes. Give me back my drink."
"Honestly," Youngbae says, brows furrowed. He holds it up higher.
Jiyong folds his arms and scowls. "Why are you here, anyway? You don't drink."
"Maybe he's meeting someone," Chaerin jokes.
Youngbae turns red and doesn't say anything.
Seunghyun's eyebrows rise so high they almost disappear beneath the fringe of his hair. "Really?"
"It's not what you think," he mutters. Jiyong takes advantage of the distraction to reappropriate his mojito. Youngbae goes off on a long, convoluted tirade about how he's definitely not meeting anyone at the campus bar for drinks because that's not a thing he would do, ever. Seunghyun sends him an amused look from across the table. Chaerin feigns polite interest but Jiyong can see her eyeing the complicated game of blackout going on in the next room.
The truth is-when all is said and done, he'd live with sonic showers and Seunghyun would live with the replicated alcohol, because the only thing they've ever wanted since they were tetchy little brats running around Starfleet's doorstep, growing up on half-formed dreams of the endless vacuum of space, Ex astris, scientia burned into the very essence of who they are-the only thing that's ever mattered to any of them is the chance to take a starship and explore the galaxy. It takes a very specific type of person to suffer through training as rigorous as theirs and stay recklessly passionate enough to yearn for it, so much that it becomes as necessary as breathing.
So they'd groan and complain and Youngbae's parents would threaten to disown him if he abandoned them for space, but at the end of the day they'd all still be here, slaving away at astrophysics, robotics, xenolinguistics-anything to get them where they wanted to go. Nothing else would fit. Jiyong doesn't think he could ever want anything more.
He's faintly aware that Youngbae's finally winding down on his fucking oral defense-or rather, he finally spots the not-girl he's not meeting. His mouth snaps shut and he slinks away before anyone can get a word in edgewise.
"I'm pretty sure that lady doth protesteth way more than I did," Jiyong says blandly. Chaerin laughs again. "Run comms for me tomorrow?"
She gets up and pats him on the shoulder. "Wouldn't miss it for the world. But first-duty calls."
"Don't hurt 'em too badly," Seunghyun yells after her. The Andorian from before sees her coming and scurries away from the blackout table like his life depends on it. Considering the rather abysmal effects of Romulan ale poisoning, it probably does.
Jiyong chews on a mint leaf and crosses his legs on the seat of his chair. "You'll be there too, won't you?"
"I'm offended you even have to ask," Seunghyun says, mild. He downs a shot of springwine and winces at the aftertaste, makes a flippant gesture in the air with his hand. "You really will be fine, you know. You worry too much."
"And you don't worry enough."
"It's a good thing we have each other, then," he says, pressing an earnest hand to his chest, and grins when Jiyong rolls his eyes.
fin
A/N: LAWWWD LMAO I KEEP APOLOGIZING IN THESE but honestly. this is the most pointless thing ever and I AM SORRY MARIA ;_; I TRIED