Sleepless in Starfleet
Title: Sleepless in Starfleet
Author: wakeupjones
Rating (PG, PG-13, G, R, NC-17): PG
Characters/Pairings: Hikaru Sulu x Pavel Chekov
Warning (sexual content, major violence, etc): Not this time, sorry ^^
Type (oneshot, chapter story, complete, etc): oneshot
Summary: Jealousy was inwented in Russia, you know.
A/N: title makes no sense but IMO titles are the worst part. At least I didn’t name it something random like, “spaghetti dog” or “fluffy coffee mug”, right? Enjoy. ^^ Big thanks to Kittyjimjams for betaing. And if I somehow mess this code up (likely) please just giggle amongst yourselves at the silly nooblet and don't start hurling communicators at me ;_;
Most people were complicated; hard to read, hard to please. Pavel Chekov was not.
Sulu knew what brought on that far-too-big-for-his-face grin, what combination of words would transform him into Scotty's small but wily sidekick; he even knew Pavel's favorite food, what side of the bed he favored, and that anything of the creepy-crawly variety made his knees buckle and his palms sweat.
He also knew that Pavel Chekov was predictably unpredictable, which was why there wasn't a doubt in Sulu’s mind that the maniac pacing outside his quarters was the young Russian.
Normally Chekov would rush in, ball his uniform up and toss it into the corner, and be asleep the second his head hit the pillow. It wasn't uncommon for him to completely neglect to return to his own quarters after duty shifts ended and instead seek out Sulu's. For a while things had worked out nicely: both of them on the same shift, returning at the same time; but when the schedules were broken up, the visits started to become more of an annoyance than a comfort. On those nights, the two would sleep in their own quarters.
The moment was fleeting for Sulu, who was still floating around in dreamland, half conscious, so he thought nothing more of it and fell back asleep. A couple of seconds later, though, he found himself blindly groping for a body on the other side of the bed, and realized that the pacing outside was still going on. He figured that, by now, Chekov would be in his own bed, drooling on his own sheets. Apparently not.
They hadn't really spoken to one another in almost a week aside from quick conversations via the communicator, but Sulu hadn't thought much of it. Often times they went days without saying more than a couple of words to one another, not because they were angry or tired of each other, but because each enjoyed and required his own personal time.
Still no sign of Chekov, and, curious now, Sulu knocked the pillow off his head and squinted at the door. Closed. Maybe it was someone else who just happened to pace like a caged lion and mutter in Russian. Yeah, and maybe Spock would double over in laughter on the bridge sometime. Unlikely. Chekov was a worrier- a worrier, and a pacer.
Sulu slapped a hand on his face and dragged it upwards, running his fingers through his hair, and pulled the covers off to the side. He planted his feet on the floor and tested his knees, though he had no intention of getting up. “Come in.”
A blinding light bathed his entire face suddenly, something he hadn't had to deal with until after Chekov came along, to whom he gladly gave up the side of the bed facing the wall, and he shielded himself. “Pav-”
“-Computer, lights,” he heard a voice say. And then his world went white again. A hiss of sympathy followed. “Ai! Sorry, sorry!”
He imagined the side of Chekov's mouth pulled up, exposing that pointed tooth that poked out when he smiled, and groaned, digging the heels of his palms into his eye sockets. He automatically said, “It's okay,” like he had the time Chekov had accidentally stepped on his foot, or the time he'd spilt coffee in Sulu’s lap. It wasn’t Chekov’s intention to be a walking disaster area, he was just clumsy sometimes. “What's up?"
Chekov grunted, as he often did when he just couldn't find the right words. “I cen't take it anymore!” he announced.
A feeling of panic his Sulu like a first to the mouth and his pulse quickened. He knew he looked calm on the outside, but he also knew that Chekov could tell he was alarmed. It was something in his eyes, he'd once said, and the way his jaw would set.
Suddenly, he felt very awake. “Can't take what?”
Chekov fidgeted in that cute, awkward way he did when nervous, huffed and puffed and waved a hand. “I hevn't said a thing all week.” He had a bad habit of mentioning something and then quickly trying to cover it up, but still expecting others to pick up on the subtle hint- something that drove Sulu crazy. Getting a straight answer out of him was like pulling teeth
“Pavel? Can't take what?”
“You vill tink I am being foolish,” he warned.
“Only if you don't tell me,” Sulu said, tilting his head. He waved his hand and called Chekov over, who crossed his arms over his chest and suddenly looked very guilty.
“I. . . nngyeh!” The side of his mouth contorted into an unsure frown.
Sulu sighed and lowered his chin, his eyebrows high.
“Okay, okay, fine. If. . . someting vere to heppen between you and… somevun who is not me, you vould tell me, yes?”
Sulu's eyebrow quickly shot up. “Of course. Incidentally, which 'someone' are you referring to?”
“Somevun like… Ensign Moselle, for example,” Chekov revealed, jealousy in his voice. He tapped a finger against his forearm, arms still folded across his chest.
“Ensign- what?”
So that's what he's going on about! Sulu thought. Chekov must not have wanted him to go on shore leave alone, after all.
Sulu frowned.
They hadn't been authorized to take leave at the same time, and he had contemplated just not going and waiting until the next time came around. Chekov had insisted, though; told him to go and 'hev fun', to enjoy himself. It took a lot of convincing, but the next morning Sulu had beamed down to the planet's surface with a handful of people, not one of which who was Chekov.
“You didn't want me to go,” Sulu said aloud. “I knew it! Why didn't you just say so?”
Chekov grunted and waved his hands. “Ech! Vhat am I suppose to say? 'You're right, don't go hev vell deserved wacation, stay here and ve'll both be miserable'? I could not do dis to you, is unfair.”
“Pasha, You need to tell me these things. Damn. I thought you were acting kind of strange, but. . . ” Sulu broke eye contact and sighed, a wave of guilt crashing down upon him. He'd been too preoccupied with his own stresses to even guess the situation. When Chekov had given his seal of approval, he'd forgotten all about it.
All that was translated into, “I guess I needed the shore leave so bad I just. . . didn't think. I'm sorry. I should have just waited until we could both go.”
There was a moment of silence in which Sulu was actually afraid, afraid he'd upset his overly-emotional partner and that he might have done some real damage.
“Is okay,” Chekov said. Sulu looked up, his face distraught, and found that stupid grin on Chekov's face, his eyebrow cocked, arms still folded. “I forgive you.”
Typical of him, Sulu decided, sighing in relief.
“However,” he said, letting his arms fall to his sides. “You hev not answered my question, Hikaru.”
“About Ensign Moselle?” asked Sulu in surprise. He tried to stifle a laugh. “You think that- she and I? Oh, Pavel.”
“Vhat?” Chekov exclaimed, waving his hands around. “Vhat is dis laughing for? Dere is no laughing. I am being wery serious here.”
It took everything Sulu had to fight back another guffaw of laughter. He tried to remind himself this was a (wery) serious conversation, even if Pavel was being completely paranoid. “I know, it's just. . . Shauna?”
“I cannot help it! You get to go to heppy wacation paradise plenet vit pretty female Ensign -who perheps has her eye on you, yeh?- and I hev to stay here, orbiting ze plenet, pretending is not heppening.”
“You're overreacting. Trust me. Moselle is nice, but she's. . .” Sulu couldn't think of any way but the obvious to describe her, and preferred not to.
Chekov walked closer and waved a finger in Sulu's face. “You I trust. Her? Nnn. . .” his voice fell. “Not so much. She is. . . wery flirty woman. You know she made googoo eyes at Dr. McCoy? She is. . . she is. . .”
“A Starfleet officer, like yourself, and good at what she does,” Sulu interrupted. He glanced sharply at Chekov, a look that said enough was enough. He didn't use that tone of voice or that look very often with him, but he wanted to stress the fact that just because they were seeing one another didn't mean Chekov could disrespect another officer. “You can't just go around making assumptions about someone you don't even know. That's what people've been doing to us, or have you forgotten?”
“I hev not,” Chekov said quietly, his face pale. His spine straightened out and he stood tall; the same way he addressed the captain at times.
“At ease," he shook his head and chuckled. "She's probably just lonely, anyway.”
When Sulu looked up again, Chekov was staring at the ground intently, shame written all over his face.
“Mebbe you are right,” he sighed.
“Besides," Sulu went on, holding his hand out. "Nothing happened between us. We beamed down together and I didn't see her again until we beamed back up.”
Chekov took his hand and sat next to him, smiled the tiniest smile Sulu had seen yet (something he took as an apology for bursting in unannounced, blinding him, and falling to pieces over nothing), and felt their fingers intertwine.
A strong arm wrapped around him and pulled him in closer.
“So. . . no beautiful women tried to seduce you?” asked Chekov, the sound of a smirk in his voice.
“No,” Sulu said in a voice that was meant to be reassuring, then playfully added, “There weren't any.”
“No women? Really? Vhat about men?”
“Nope.”
“You mean to tell me dis plenet is completely uninhibited? I find dat wery hard to believe. You know, if you are lying, I cen check de sensor readings,” Chekov warned. He pulled away and held his hands up to protect himself from the swat aimed for his arm, grinning madly.
Sulu grinned back, but said, “What I'm trying to tell you is you can trust me.”
“I know,” he admitted, his expression sobering. “I'm sorry, you know? I hev not been sleeping so vell since you left. Is too bad keptin did not autorwise our shore leave for the same time. I vould like to hev gone." Chekov sighed and leaned into his shoulder.
“Maybe next time. Now,” Sulu almost whined, “I am really, really tired. Are you going to sleep here? I need to be on the bridge in a couple of hours and I can't be dozing off at my post.”
“Do you vant me to stay?”
Sulu shrugged. “I don’t mind.”
Chekov shrugged and rolled away from him, stealing a pillow. “Eh, might as vell.” He peeled his shirt from his back and unbuttoned his pants, then sat to take off his boots. He stopped in the middle of taking his second boot off, his head cocking to the side thoughtfully. “Hikaru?”
“Yeah?”
Chekov licked his lips. “Vhen you said, 'I don't mind' did you mean. . .”
Sulu rolled his eyes and smiled, propping himself up with his elbow. “I want you to stay.”
“Really?”
“Yes!”
“You're sure? Because I can go, you know, if you-”
“I really want you to stay. Really.”
“Okay!” he chirped happily. “As. . . long as you insist.”
While he kicked his pants off Sulu ordered the room into darkness. Chekov crawled into bed next to him and after the standard shifting around every ten seconds to find a comfortable spot (apparently Starfleet's mattresses didn't come up to par with the ones back home in Russia, and made him itch), he whispered, “Hikaru?”
Sulu sighed. If this kept up, he’d never get any sleep. “. . .Yeah?”
A skinny arm slowly snaked around his torso and tightened, and lips softly touched his shoulder. “Ya soskuchilsya po tebye.”
Sulu breathed in deeply and smirked, burying his head back into the pillow. “I missed you, too.”