
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/48861.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Star_Trek_XI
  Relationship:
      Chekov/Sulu
  Character:
      Pavel_Chekov, Hikaru_Sulu
  Additional Tags:
      One_of_My_Favorites
  Stats:
      Published: 2010-01-10 Words: 4252
****** Chasing Starlight ******
by Rubynye
Summary
     Adrenaline and lunch on an ordinary day aboard the Enterprise.
Title: Chasing Starlight
Fandom: Star Trek XI
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Chekov/Sulu
Summary: Adrenaline and lunch on an ordinary day aboard the Enterprise.
Content Advisory: Slash, an obstreperous captain.
All Thanks To:
[[info]]
lomedet for alpha reading and grit kitty for beta reading.
Disclaimer: None of these characters or their settings belong to me.
Title from "Starlight" by Muse, which really is such a song for this pairing.
As much as any day on the U.S.S. Enterprise can be considered ordinary, this
looks like an ordinary day. The viewscreen in front of Lieutenant Sulu is
streaky with Warp 2. From the corner of his left eye he watches the ticking
countdown to Lesath Three. To his right Ensign Chekov's fingers fly across the
Navigation console as he calculates the optimal routes through the Lesath
system, working from orbital projections of the major and minor cometary
swarms. They'll arrive in -- Sulu checks -- 6 minutes and 22 seconds, so until
Chekov sends over the flight paths he doesn't have much to do.
Hikaru sneaks another rightward glance, looking for a hint of his Pavel, but
the young Ensign is typing diligently, his forehead creased with concentration.
He should do as much, Sulu reminds himself, and checks the long-range sensors
again. Nothing's out of the ordinary, but... 'Expect the unexpected' he
remembers, in the dry crisp cricket-voice of Commander Kaffaljidhma, his
favorite flight instructor, so he looks over the mission parameters again as
well. Fifteen years ago the close pass of another star disrupted Lesath's Oort
cloud, so now the Enterprise will take some measurements of the effects on the
uninhabited planetary system. From here everything seems roughly unchanged, all
five planets still where they belong, though Lesath Four's position looks a bit
smeared, probably by nearby comets. Sulu makes a mental note to ask Chekov for
a more detailed system map later.
His console beeps with the finished routes. "Thank you, Ensign," Sulu says, and
gets a professional smile and sharp little nod in return. He doesn't grin
proudly -- Chekov was exceptionally competent before they ever met -- but he
does have to look down at his console to keep his own face calm. Less
professional than a kid, he thinks with wry amusement, but his conscience
reminds him that's not accurate or fair. No one on the Enterprise knows better
than he does that Pavel Andreievich Chekov isn't a kid.
Forty seconds out, and Sulu's heart beats a little faster. Time to fly.
"Captain, thirty-five seconds to arrival," he says, turning around.
Kirk nods acknowledgement. "Very good, Mr. Sulu. Count it down."
One more check of the routes, and at ten seconds Sulu folds his fingers around
the tiller. "Arriving at Lesath Three in five, four, three, two, one--"
Well, shit. The viewscreen is full of jagged rocks. They're not beside Lesath
Three, they're inside the debris field it's been reduced to, still so compact
and crowded it registered as a point mass on the long-range sensors. A gasp
runs around the Bridge, but Sulu and Chekov are already responding, modulating
thrusters, implementing an evasive pattern. Sulu tilts the Enterprise towards
Lesath's blue light, shining through the one reasonably sized gap; Kirk's
"Yellow alert," overlaps with Chekov's "shields at full strength, Captain!"
Not a second too soon. A rock caroms off the port nacelle, jarring them all in
their seats, the impact flashing on Sulu's 3D grid. They're still turning
evasively, but a dark shape drifts into their path, blobby and black with dark
red crevices, even more ominous than the jagged rocks. "3800 degrees," Chekov
reports, and Sulu knows they're looking at the same fragment.
For the moment Chekov can handle the one ahead. Sulu concentrates on slipping
the Enterprise between the rocks alongside, thruster bursts and turns as he
follows the course corrections Chekov sends him. "Aye, Captain, phasers armed,"
Chekov reports, sharp-voiced and calm as the alarm blares.
Several fragments tumble towards them from the rear. Enterprise's own gravity
might be perturbing them, Sulu doesn't know. What he knows is how to evade
them, up, right, forward. But they still need to get through that gap to
survive this -- another collision, someone falls heavily behind them and Sulu
barely hangs onto his seat, and shields are down to 73%.
"Fire, Mr. Chekov," Kirk orders confidently, and Sulu sits on his private
worries about whether phasers can clear a massive molten fragment like the one
ahead. The first burst just makes it glow brighter red, but then the mass
separates along the seam of the second burst and Sulu can duck the Enterprise
into the gap. Fragments ping and spark off the shields, but they get through.
It's not much better on the other side, fragments as far as the visual field
extends, but at least they're spaced a few lengths apart instead of barely one.
There are little suppressed sighs of relief behind them, and Sulu wants to
slump in his chair and exhale the tension in a sigh of his own. He doesn't, of
course. "Nice work, gentlemen," the Captain tells them.
"Thank you, sir. We're not out of this yet, though." Sulu pulls back the 3D to
a wide view, and the full debris field is an ellipse roughly 80 times the size
of the original planet, with the Enterprise just off center. They're actually
heading deeper, but the shortest ways out are back through the crowded patch
where they arrived, so Sulu keeps their current general heading.
"So I see," says Captain Kirk. "Ensign Chekov?" The fragments surrounding them
now are cooler as well as further apart, mostly around 75 degrees. Just their
luck to arrive where they did.
Sulu concentrates on piloting, evading another fragment just in time, as he
listens to Chekov explain their predicament. "Lesath Three and Lesath Four are
destroyed, Captain, I calculate in last 200 hours. Cometary activity four point
two eight times higher than predicted." Sulu notes with one spare neuron that
Chekov's accent has thickened a bit. "Lesath Two and Five appear still intact."
"Hello, fireworks." Kirk hums thoughtfully. "Lay in a course for Lesath Five,
inform Astrometrics to look ahead -- we don't want any more surprises if we can
help it. Then assist Lieutenant Sulu in getting us out of here."
"Aye, Captain." Sulu follows the course Chekov sets, with his own occasional
adjustments; when he can look up for a second he glances over just as Chekov
looks at him, and their eyes meet. His Ensign has a firm set to his jaw, hectic
red patches high on his pale cheeks, and huge shining eyes, and the smile they
trade is maybe a little warmer than professional.
Then they get back to work.
                           ************************
 
One hundred eighty seven minutes of variously intricate piloting later, the
Enterprise is in position by Lesath Five, shields boosted and Astrometrics on
comet-watch. The view's kind of spectacular, actually, as well as deadly;
comets tumble inwards towards Lesath in streaming clumps, moving ten times
faster than usual. Chekov's estimation on Lesath Four's destruction has been
revised to six months ago, and since a third of its mass is missing he
hypothesizes that some of its fragments destroyed Lesath Three.
Also, Chekov still has those bright red cheeks in an otherwise paper-pale face,
and he's trembling very slightly. But his voice is steady, his telemetry is
flawless, and Sulu has a ship to fly.
When Silverman and Xanath arrive to relieve them, Captain Kirk waves Chekov
over. "I need you in Astrometrics. Take a half hour for lunch first. Mr. Sulu?"
Sulu looks up from arranging his displays for Lt. Xanath. "Make sure he eats?"
That broad wink is all Jim.
"Aye, Captain," Sulu says, poker-faced, and doesn't look at Chekov until
they're off the Bridge.
In the corridor he can roll his eyes, and watch Chekov stride ahead of him,
fast and steady, controlled enough to please Commander Spock. But if he knows
Pavel as well as he thinks he does --
Chekov drops back, their shoulders brushing as he says quietly into Sulu's ear,
"Conference Room 212-A." Good choice, a break room equipped with a sink and
food synthesizer, if also two doors. Pulse pounding in anticipation, Sulu nods
briefly and follows him there, locking the doors with a word to the computer.
When he turns to the room Chekov's back is to him, and there's a moment when
Sulu thinks he might have miscalculated.
Then his Pavel swings around smiling, arms out, and Hikaru gets just one step
from the door before they slam together, Pavel's hands tight on his shoulders.
The kiss knocks what's left of his breath out of him, or maybe that's the door
hitting his back. Hikaru gasps through his nose with Pavel's mouth hard on his,
Pavel's fingers in his hair, Pavel flattening him into the door, writhing
against him, eager and alive.
Pavel feels so good, familiar angles and ropy muscles, the soft warm skin of
his back when Hikaru slides both hands up beneath his shirt. He feels
incredible, teeth sharp on Hikaru's bottom lip, wet warm tongue soothing the
throbbing bite, holding Hikaru's head still to absolutely ravish his mouth.
Hikaru's blood surges with all the adrenaline of the last three hours, with the
current running through Pavel's slender body, and Pavel's eager moan
reverberates through him straight to his dick.
Hikaru's completely breathless when they have to break off, gasping and staring
at each other. Pavel's lips are already bruised red, and Hikaru's throbs like
it's swelling up; Pavel reaches up to touch it lightly, his eyes round and
luminous beyond his hand. Hikaru briefly thinks about how everyone who sees him
this afternoon will know how he spent his lunch break.
Pavel's fingers slip into his mouth, slender and trembling on his tongue, and
as he sucks on them Hikaru decides he doesn't care if the whole ship knows.
"Hi," Pavel says, sounding a little dazed, and Hikaru grins around his fingers.
"Ah, adrenaline?"
Hikaru laughs, nodding as he gently bites down, and Pavel yanks his fingers
away with a yelped, "I need those!" He cracks up too, still laughing as Hikaru
kisses him again, sliding his arms around Hikaru's neck, fingers into his hair.
Hikaru frees one hand from Pavel's shirt to sink it into his curls, the other
flat over his winglike shoulderblade. He pushes into the kiss, thinking about
tilting Pavel's head back, but Pavel does something wicked with his tongue that
makes Hikaru gasp and shudder, his thighs trembling.
Pavel chuckles and does it again, and the firm wet caress makes Hikaru's knees
seriously threaten to melt out from beneath him. The mental image of falling to
his knees for Pavel both makes his cock throb and gives him an idea, so Hikaru
slides a foot forward, pulling his other hand off Pavel's skin to push lightly
on his upper arm. Pavel mutters indistinctly, pressing his mouth to Hikaru's as
if sealing them together, but he takes a step back, then another. Eyes closed
and distracted by Pavel's tongue in his mouth, Hikaru manages to walk them
three infinite steps to the table without either stumbling. Because he's just
that good a pilot, he thinks, bending to keep kissing Pavel as he fumbles a
chair out and Pavel sinks into it, clinging to Hikaru the whole way.
He's that good, and Pavel makes him that much better. They have to break the
kiss when Hikaru sinks to his knees; Pavel grips his hair, not quite pulling,
and Hikaru stares up at him, red cheeks vanished into a rising flush, eyes
gleaming above his exhilarated smile. "I like adrenaline, I think," Pavel says,
and Hikaru laughs helplessly, pushing up to kiss him again.
Lips tingling under Pavel's moving mouth, Hikaru concentrates enough to get
Pavel's pants open. Lifting his hips to help, Pavel does this little twisting
shimmy that makes Hikaru's fingers twitch towards his skin, but he hangs onto
himself and Pavel's pants, easing them halfway down his thighs before he judges
it far enough. Hikaru slides his hands back up those thighs, petting bare hot
skin sparsely scattered with hair, squeezing the hard sleek muscles beneath,
and Pavel moans for him, throaty and eager, leaning forward as if he's about to
dive out of the chair.
Lying on the floor under a writhing Pavel would be hot, would be incredible,
and would use up the whole lunch break and probably end up with Ensign Chekov
getting to Astrometrics ridiculously late if at all. Hikaru lets go, with only
a little difficulty, to catch Pavel's shoulders and push him back, the kiss
breaking with a wet slick noise. "Stay here."
Pavel's mouth curves into an absolutely edible-looking little frown. "But your
pants are not even open."
"Yeah, you're right, that's a problem." Which Hikaru fixes quickly, one-handed,
still pushing up on Pavel's shoulder as Pavel leans heavily against his hold.
Hikaru strokes his dick as he pulls it out, his breath roughening at the feel
of his fingers, at the hungry way Pavel watches his hand move. He watches
Pavel's eyes darken and hears his own voice go gravelly as he says, "This
better?"
Pavel nods and lunges, grabbing a fistful of Hikaru's hair to haul him up,
kissing him like a punch. Hikaru's mouth throbs, his lip streaked with fire,
his scalp burning under Pavel's grip, and it's all so good he has to moan,
feeling Pavel shiver against his mouth, tightening his hand around the base of
his dick. Pavel reaches for him again and Hikaru barely manages to block with
his shoulder, to push Pavel upright in the chair as he pulls back gasping. "No,
stay there," Hikaru pants. "I'm gonna blow you, all right?"
Pavel gasps, too, looking hot and horny and more than a little pissed off.
"Hikaru, let me touch you!" Hikaru shakes his head, pulling his hand off
himself to wrap it around Pavel's dick, which jumps gratifyingly in his grip.
Pavel shudders and groans, breathes in noisily and keeps arguing, his accent
thickening further. "I want your mouth on me, I want my hands on you!"
"I do too,' Hikaru answers helplessly, and bites his sore lip. Hikaru wants to
let Pavel jump on him more than he wants to breathe, wants to sprawl with
Pavel's weight on his chest and Pavel's body filling the curve of his arm. "But
if I let you climb on top of me we'll still be on the floor in an hour, when
Astrometrics reports you as a no-show and someone overrides the lock." The most
likely candidate to hunt them out is Commander Spock, and Hikaru's dick
actually throbs unhappily at him for that thought, like it's about to wilt.
Like it could, with Pavel leaning into him, eyes blazing, voice husky.
"Astrometrics can fuck itselves." Pavel smiles, narrow and cunning, and drags
his fingers lightly over the shell of Hikaru's ear, tingles cascading down
Hikaru's nerves. "You come fuck me."
"Oh, God, that's playing dirty," Hikaru moans, his head tipping back under the
maddeningly light caress. "C'mon, Pavel, you need to eat." Much more of this
and he'll happily lose this argument.
He leans in, Pavel's fresh rich scent making his mouth water, but Pavel gets
him back by halting him with that hand, planted on his forehead. "And you need
nothing?" Pavel asks, low and guttural.
Hikaru tilts his head enough to meet Pavel's eyes, as Pavel's hand curves to
his temple and strokes down his jawline. "I need your dick in my mouth," he
says, because it's true, because it makes Pavel's lips part and a deeper
rosiness bloom in his cheeks, because Pavel nods and closes his stormy eyes as
he slumps back in the chair.
Later, Hikaru will tease Pavel about fighting off a blowjob so fiercely. Later,
when he's not sucking him down, listening to him breathe, "da, da, yes,"
wrapping one hand around his hip to hold him steady. He slides the other down
Pavel's chest, intending to stroke his aching dick when he can stand to stop
touching Pavel, but Pavel catches his wrist in a grip stronger than he really
feels like trying to break. Then he has a really good reason not to, as Pavel
licks a hot wide stripe up his palm and sucks hard on his fingers, licking them
individually as Hikaru licks his velvet-hot dick.
Clumsily stroking Pavel's chin with his thumb, Hikaru groans from deep in his
chest, heat twisting inside him, his dick throbbing all untouched. It's like a
mirror, a feedback loop, as Pavel moans around his hand and he moans around
Pavel. He sucks harder, as directly as he can, and Pavel bucks off-rhythm,
letting Hikaru's fingers slide free for one loud moan before he gasps and
muffles himself with his own hand. Hikaru wraps his freed hand around himself,
thanking Pavel for wetting it by pressing his tongue to the pulsing vein up the
underside of Pavel's dick, sucking steadily until his cheeks ache. Pavel's
muffled and indistinct through his hand, but Hikaru can hear the way his voice
tilts higher, breaking around the edges. Pavel's thigh tensing under his hand,
precome salty down the back of his throat, Hikaru pushes down until his lips
brush wet curls, telling himself not to choke; Pavel thrusts up again,
groaning, "Oh, Hik--" and then just plain groaning as he comes, spilling hot
into Hikaru's mouth.
Hikaru pulls back just far enough to breathe through his nose, suppresses a
cough, and swallows. He doesn't usually, but he knew he'd have to when he
thought of this, and now all he can taste is Pavel, all he can smell. He pulls
off, listening to Pavel gasp over him, pressing his forehead to Pavel's damp
thigh as he strokes himself roughly. It's his turn, just a few more pulls as
Pavel's hands move in his hair, caressing his nape, and he comes so hard his
whole body shakes with it, the pulses slowly fading to tingles through his
balls and spine and randomly over his skin.
When Hikaru can open his eyes he looks down at his sticky hand, There's one
splash beyond it on the floor under the chair, but at least he hasn't messed up
his pants or his sleeve. He tips his head back and coughs, his throat coated
and ticklish; exhilaration sings through his blood, and laughing makes him
cough more but he can't help it.
Pavel laughs too, and Hikaru looks up at him, his wide smile and shining eyes,
his curls sticking up everywhere. He says something cheerful in Russian,
blinks, and translates, "I am never so astonished," as he leans down. Hikaru
cranes his neck to kiss him while trying not to move; noticing Hikaru's
immobility, Pavel looks him over, and his eyes go absolutely huge. "Ai, let me
help," he says, flinging himself to his feet, swinging his leg right over
Hikaru's head. Hikaru leans his forehead on the edge of the chair, warm from
Pavel's body, and laughs some more, because this is ridiculous and messy and
completely worth it.
Pavel returns and hands Hikaru a fistful of disposable wipes, fastening his
pants as Hikaru scrubs off his hands. "I can lick that for you," Pavel offers,
cheerful and unbearably sexy; Hikaru groans faintly, shaking his head, and
catches his breath as he wipes the floor clean.
"How much time have we used up?" Hikaru stands up, fastening his own pants as
he heads for the sink, stuffs the wipes down the trash chute and washes his
hands and face. He tingles in patches all over beneath his uniform, his skin
cooling off, and his sore lower lip seems not to be actually busted.
Pavel hums computationally. "Fourteen minutes and twenty six, twenty seven
seconds."
"That's not so bad." It seemed longer, probably just because it was so much
fun. "But your hair's all messed up, and we still need to eat. No," Hikaru adds
as Pavel's eyes gleam, "tube steak is tasty, but not enough lunch."
"Still hungry?" Pavel squeezes in between Hikaru and an imaginary wall two feet
from the real one. Hikaru's hands are clean, so he drapes one on Pavel's hip,
hugging him for a moment as he picks Pavel's pocket for the black-polymer comb
he always carries. Pavel rolls his eyes longsufferingly, and Hikaru grins back
as he combs his hair, then hands the comb over so Pavel can dampen it and
attack his wild curls.
Hikaru should be choosing something for lunch, but he's still a little wobbly,
brain soft around the edges and sparkles drifting behind his eyes. He watches
Pavel subdue his hair until it's crisply neat again, the part ruler-straight;
Pavel stuffs the comb back into his pocket and tugs out his cuffs, and he looks
every inch a professional Starfleet officer except for the glowing red rims of
his ears.
Pavel looks so good Hikaru makes himself take a step away. He gets a quizzical
look for it, and answers, "You look so neat. I just want to mess you up again."
"I want you to mess me," Pavel says, of course, closing the distance. Hikaru
catches his face between both hands and kisses him softly, not letting it
deepen as he skims his fingers down Pavel's arms and closes his hands lightly
around Pavel's slender wrists. Slender, but strong, Hikaru feels as Pavel
rotates them in his loose grip.
Hikaru looks at Pavel in front of him, eyes shut, so still he trembles, and
wants to kiss his eyelashes, the angles of his cheekbones, his mouth for
approximately forever. Instead he sets his own mouth lightly against the shell
of Pavel's ear, letting his lips just brush it as he murmurs, "Tonight, okay?
Can you wait for tonight? Because we'll both be off shift, and after you get
done beating everyone at chess, I'll come find you in the rec room and we'll go
back to my quarters." Pavel exhales a long shuddering breath, and Hikaru keeps
going. "We'll take everything off, you'll lie on my bed, and I'll touch you
everywhere. I'll bite all your freckles, lick your throat and your nipples and
your inner thighs." Pavel makes a gorgeous little strangled-off noise, denting
his lip with his teeth. "When you can't stand it anymore I'll fuck you, nice
and slow, because we'll have all night. Or if you want to, you can fuck me. I'd
like that, you inside me. Just as long as we take it slow."
Hikaru stops himself there, because this little speech isn't being exactly
calming. Pavel's breath is fast and rough, and Hikaru's skin is flushing hot
all over, though they both just came. "Ai ai ai," Pavel grumbles, pressing his
warm cheek to Hikaru's, "I am hard again, and it is all your fault." He twists
his hands free and grabs Hikaru's upper arms, shoving him back a step, and
Hikaru grins unsteadily. "Yes, tonight. We will do all that, and more, again
and again until we cannot move."
"Tonight," Hikaru agrees, then makes himself pay attention to the food
synthesizer before he orders shoe polish or something Bolian. "Right now, what
do you want for lunch? Besides the obvious."
"You choose," Pavel says, dropping into a chair, swinging his legs over the
arm. "You choose, I cannot think."
Hikaru thinks about how Pavel melts his brain just as much, but only says,
"Okay, then." He punches in two beef burritos -- mild for Pavel, with jalapenos
added for himself -- and some green tea because it's the least tinny-tasting
drink from the synthesizer. Pavel's eyes light up at the food, and he swallows
a third of his before Hikaru's had two bites. "Told you you needed some lunch."
Pavel glares, though the effect's kind of ruined by the burrito stuffed halfway
into his mouth. Hikaru snickers at him and eats steadily, feeling every second
passing. They finish with two and a half minutes to spare, and Pavel slurps the
last of his tea, leans over the table, and kisses Hikaru as thoroughly as he
can using only his mouth. He tastes like tea and salsa and his own warmth, and
Hikaru has to grab the edge of the table to keep from reaching for him.
When Pavel leans back, Hikaru lets himself raise one hand to trace the sharp
line of his jaw, and Pavel's smile is as warm as sunlight. Hikaru can't get
enough of that smile, whether it's focused on a vast nebula, a fascinating
physics problem, or, most incredibly of all, on him. However, they've got maybe
a hundred seconds left, barely enough time to reach Astrometrics at a run, so
he takes a deep breath and lightly pinches Pavel's chin. "Computer, unlock
doors. Get going, Ensign. You're needed in Astrometrics."
"Yes, sir," Pavel says brightly, standing straight. He salutes crisply, and
Hikaru watches him leave, takes a deep breath, and clears up their lunch,
thinking about everything Lieutenant Sulu needs to do that afternoon before
they can have their night.
Less than ninety seconds after Ensign Chekov left, the door opens and Captain
Kirk pops in, widening his eyes in well-feigned innocence. Sulu doesn't let
himself groan, but apparently he can't keep the accusation out of his eyes,
because Kirk throws up his hands and says, "Total coincidence, Lieutenant,
really. But..." He comes closer, peering until Sulu's face prickles under his
stare. "What the hell happened to your lip?"
Please drop_by_the_archive_and_comment to let the author know if you enjoyed
their work!
