Fic: Lingua Franca
Title: Lingua Franca
Author: diane_kepler
Length: 1000 wds
Rating: NC-17
Fandom: Star Trek XI
Characters: Sulu/Chekov, Kirk, Spock/Uhura
Summary: The boys in gold have some fun with language. Others listen in. Written for the kink meme ( here).
Acknowledgements: All my language helpers -- you guys rock. Thanks to Peirak and Julia for the Russian, Josh for the Japanese, and Selek for the other one.
Mouse over for the translations.
As usual, it’s Sulu that starts it.
“ Kimi to odoritai,” he murmurs, almost too softly to hear.
Pavel sits up straight. That voice. Just hearing it is enough to bring back every second of last night in Hikaru’s room. He was speaking with the very same tone as right now and Pavel knows it’s deliberate.
The tactical officer puts his elbows out and slowly, on the pretext of stretching out his back, twists right, then left. Kirk and Spock are at their usual posts, sitting stiff-backed or sprawling wide-legged just as they always do. Uhura is on her break. They always stagger them on the alpha shift, so not too many people are away from the bridge at once. Hikaru is timing this perfectly.
“ Kurabu ni detekuruyouna kanjide oshiri ugokashite?” Sulu tries again.
Last night they were sharing fantasies, Hikaru, telling Pavel about the hotspots in Vladivostok where the vacationing Japanese boys can pick up the locals like fruit from a basket. That confession quickly turned into Pavel being Hikaru’s pretend trick for the night, lying naked on his bed, one foot on the edge of it, one wet finger easing spit around his bottom lip.
Sulu was deep into the fantasy, purring orders in his native tongue. “ Ok, kondo wa ushiro o muite oshiri o dekirudake takaku tsukidashite.”
Which, of course, left Pavel on all fours, his ass snugged up against Hikaru’s briefs. Sulu was teasing him with that cold-forged steel he had his underwear, disguised as biology.
“ Pantsu nuide? Kimi to ecchi o shitai.”
This newest comment jolts Pavel back to two things -- the present moment, and last night’s admission about wanting Hikaru to bend him over his own console, in full view of everybody on the bridge.
“ Ashi o hiraite boku ni misete....”
Pavel’s trousers, ridiculously uncomfortable now, get a little adjustment. He knows there have got to be twin points of redness on his cheeks, so he doesn’t dare turn around to look at anybody. But Sulu, saved from blushing both by heritage and sheer audacity, does turn around and to see if anyone is the wise to their little game.
Kirk meets his eye. “How are your language lessons going, gentlemen?”
“Very well, Captain,” Sulu’s face is a complete blank. “My Russian seems to be progressing in tandem with Mr. Chekov’s Japanese.”
“Good job,” Kirk mutters nonchalantly at a PADD he’s scanning. “Just keep it to quiet days like this and we’ll all be fine.”
Sulu turns back to his station with a sidelong glance at the reddened tactical officer. he knows Kirk will take his break right after Uhura gets back. That’ll give Sulu some time to calm down before slipping off to his own R&R, which he’ll spend in the bathroom, taking care of himself as he softly calls out Pavel’s name.
“ Kimi no oshiri sawatte mo ii?” Sulu dares again.
“ Можешь пощекотать меня там....” comes the tentative reply.
In half a second the helmsman goes from hard to galvanized. It’s last night’s role-play all over again and now he’s almost panting with the thought of how Chekov’s slim hips felt under his hands as he worked into his lover from behind.
“ Kimi no karada o dakishimetai.” he pronounces next. Pavel had best watch out, or tonight he was going to get that dirty mouth stuffed with cock for an hour.
Pavel risks a look at Hikaru . It’s a contest now. “ Я таю в твоих руках.”
“ Moshi jyunkatsu-abura o tsukattara sugoku kimochi iiyo,” he says in a manner calculated to tease.
“ Я вся горю.” Pavel replies, eyes boring into the viewscreen ahead of them. If he doesn’t come in his pants it will be a miracle.
But just then, coincidence takes care of him. Tthe turbolift doors hiss open and the sound of Uhura’s boots on the deck is as clear as a red-alert klaxon. Time to shut up. Fun and games are all right, but they don’t want to antagonize the lovely lady who could easily shame them into vacuum in both of their native tongues.
“Okay everyone, it my turn. Mr. Spock, you have the conn.”
“Acknowledged, Captain.”
Once Kirk has swooshed out the door, Spock does a circuit of the bridge, finally coming to a stop next to Uhura's station. His next statement, so as not to alert anyone, is entirely impassive.
“ Ashal-veh, vesht tor ish va’ashiv.”
Uhura is equally nonchalant. “ Nam-tor rehr-farr ish stehkuh-t’ved. Dungi pehkau ish-veh ha?”
“ Vesht dungi var-tor khart-lan, hi abulau torvauk’es t’au du’hafayat t’izaya t’au.”
Facing her console meant she could allow herself a little smile, “ Beglanau ish vakav’es t’yaret t’du na’ha-shal t’nash-veh ki’abulau isha.”
Spock’s eyebrow moves rapidly upwards and he struggles to control his physical responses. “ K’diwa, nam-tor ish dan-rom vesht tar-tor svi’awek.”
“ Po, ri’kup ken-tor etek. Isha, slor-veh, fai-tor nash-veh tishau du lu hai-tor svi’vuhlkansu.”
“ I hizhuk.“ And suddenly there is a dangerous note to his voice, extremely subtle, but perfectly clear to Uhura, who’s quite used to hearing it. “ Il dungi tal-tor ish-ru’lut abru’bosh t’lok t’nash-veh, nash-mu-yor.”
“ Ugau?” she says lightly, thinking of the wet heat of it, and pleasure jabs at her clit. They continue in that vein until Kirk returns, with an easy pink-cheeked kind of tranquility.
Folding himself carefully into his chair, it’s easy for Kirk to see that nobody on the bridge suspects anything -- not his easy fluency in Russian and Japanese, nor his quick trip to the bathroom to, uh, set things straight. Chekov and Sulu’s dirty talk never fails to get his engines humming.
But what will be really great, he reflects, is playing the recording of Uhura and Spock’s conversation tonight, after lights-out. Those two can get downright nasty.