Fill for the Fic Meme.
“But Hikaru, I’m going to fall off!”
And Sulu laughs, the jerk, but his hands reach out to steady the broomstick as Cree shifts around on it.
“You won’t.” He tells her, with a certainty that somehow manages to be reassuring, even though he’s about to let go.
“I will!” She says, panicking as his takes his hands away and the broomstick drifts upwards. A foot off the ground was much too high, but Sulu hadn’t told her how to make it go down.
Probably a smart move on his part, or she wouldn’t have ever let the broom start moving upwards in the first place. Stupid, sneaky Sulu, she thinks, and tightens her grip on the broom until her knuckles turn white and lets the broom drift upwards until she’s level with the goal posts. She just might throw up.
“Cree.” Sulu is right next to her, sitting on his broom and looking for all the world as if he is at home here, a million feet above the ground. He’s not even holding on to his broom. Jerkface.
“What?” She asks, annoyance and fear in her voice, and she would very much like to get down now, thank you.
“I’d never let you fall. You know that, right?” He asks, and covers her hands on the broom with his own. “I’d catch you. Always.”
He says it with the same quiet resolve he says everything else, as if he means it. Which is why Cree doesn’t mind leaning over to kiss him, even if her heart is beating a thousand miles an hour at the fact that they’re in the air and much, much too high.
She breaks the kiss with a panicked squeak as her broom wobbles. For a minute, a long, long, horrible minute, she thinks she’s going to fall. She doesn’t.
“I got you.” He says again, knees knocking against hers as he steadies her. “Promise.”
And even though he’s a jerkface who dragged her onto the Quidditch pitch and made her ride a broom, she believes him.
And Sulu laughs, the jerk, but his hands reach out to steady the broomstick as Cree shifts around on it.
“You won’t.” He tells her, with a certainty that somehow manages to be reassuring, even though he’s about to let go.
“I will!” She says, panicking as his takes his hands away and the broomstick drifts upwards. A foot off the ground was much too high, but Sulu hadn’t told her how to make it go down.
Probably a smart move on his part, or she wouldn’t have ever let the broom start moving upwards in the first place. Stupid, sneaky Sulu, she thinks, and tightens her grip on the broom until her knuckles turn white and lets the broom drift upwards until she’s level with the goal posts. She just might throw up.
“Cree.” Sulu is right next to her, sitting on his broom and looking for all the world as if he is at home here, a million feet above the ground. He’s not even holding on to his broom. Jerkface.
“What?” She asks, annoyance and fear in her voice, and she would very much like to get down now, thank you.
“I’d never let you fall. You know that, right?” He asks, and covers her hands on the broom with his own. “I’d catch you. Always.”
He says it with the same quiet resolve he says everything else, as if he means it. Which is why Cree doesn’t mind leaning over to kiss him, even if her heart is beating a thousand miles an hour at the fact that they’re in the air and much, much too high.
She breaks the kiss with a panicked squeak as her broom wobbles. For a minute, a long, long, horrible minute, she thinks she’s going to fall. She doesn’t.
“I got you.” He says again, knees knocking against hers as he steadies her. “Promise.”
And even though he’s a jerkface who dragged her onto the Quidditch pitch and made her ride a broom, she believes him.