(no subject)
Title: Dating is Easy, Slapstick is Hard
Author: katiemariie is my main but ifanythingelse is where this is posted
Rating: R
Word Count: 1557
Pairings: Spock/Sulu
Summary: Sometimes cultural differences can be awkward. Sometimes times they can be downright painful.
Disclaimer: I don't own Star Trek.
Notes: This was written for the lightening round at help_haiti for sumofparts.
“You're doing it again,” Geoff says between bites of his sandwich.
“Doing what again?” Sulu asks without turning to face the doctor.
“Pining. Over Spock.”
“I'm not pining over Spock.”
“You're pining. You're pining like a pine tree.” This gets Sulu to face him.
“What? That doesn't even-You can't just make up figures of speech. That defeats the whole purpose.”
“You're deflecting.”
“I'm not--”
“You're deflecting like a deflector shield.”
“Oh my god!”
“See, look how upset you are. You never get upset. This infatuation with Spock is obviously taking it's toll.”
“No, your esoteric metaphors are taking a toll-”
“They're similes.”
“What?”
“They're similes. I used the word 'like.' It's a simile if it uses the words 'like' or 'as.' And stop trying to distract me. I think we were getting somewhere.”
“Getting somewhere? I'm not one of your patients. You can't psycho-analyze me.”
“I'm trying to help you here but if you can't take a little friendly advice I'll eat my lunch elsewhere.”
“Wait. Don't. Just sit back down. I...”
“Yes?”
“I might have feelings for Spock.”
“Good. Admitting you have a problem is the first step.”
“What's the second step?”
“I don't know. No one's done that twelve step business for years. Apparently, telling people with dual diagnoses to stop taking their meds didn't work out too well.”
“You know I have no idea what you're talking about.”
“People rarely do. Now, I think you need to approach Spock with your feelings. Get things out in the open.”
“Really? He's a Vulcan. I don't think rushing in there with the warm and fuzzies is the best idea.”
“Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't realize you were the ship's resident expert on Vulcans. Oh, wait, that's me.”
“You don't have to get all snippy. I'll do it.”
“Go ahead.”
“What? Now?”
“There's no time like the present.”
“Spare me the cliches,” Sulu sighs as he gets up from the table.
“Good luck and godspeed.”
“Fuck your face, M'Benga.”
“Love you too, honey.”
Sulu walks over to Spock's table and takes a deep breath. “Hi, commander.”
“Lieutenant.” Spock nods.
“I, uh, hmm, uhhh...” He looks back at Geoff who's giving him the thumbs up and mouthing, “Go for it.”
“Is something wrong?”
“No, um. I just wanted to say that I like you-being with you. I like being with you.”
“I find your company agreeable as well.”
“Cool. Awesome. Do you wanna do something later? Together? We could-I could teach you how to fence.”
“I am free tomorrow after alpha shift.”
“Great. I'll reserve the gym.”
“I will meet you at 1900 hours.”
“Awesome.” Sulu feels like he should put a button on this conversation instead of awkwardly skulking back to his table. He raises his right hand to eye level. Spock mimics this action, quirking his eyebrow. Sulu smacks their hands together with possibly too much force because Spock falls out of his chair and curls into the fetal position on the floor.
“What the fuck did you do?” Geoff says as he rushes over to examine Spock.
“I just gave him a high five.”
“You can't do that to a Vulcan! They've got three thousand nerve fibers in their hands. It's like kicking them in the balls.”
“I didn't know! Spock, I'm so sorry.”
The Vulcan just groans.
-
A few days later, Spock invites Mr. Sulu to his quarters to watch a documentary about Andorian orchids. Spock is understandably reluctant to engage in something as physical as fencing with Sulu considering his recent injury. His hand still aches occasionally but Dr. M'Benga assures him that any pain in his kidneys is purely sympathetic.
Sulu arrives at the prescribed hour with various “snacks” that he claims to be customary to human cinematic viewership: popcorn, licorice, and small bite-sized confections called Milk Duds. Spock finds the Milk Duds to be the most logical candy he has ever consumed. When chewed, the stickiness of the Duds removes the popcorn remnants from one's teeth.
After consuming half of the Milk Duds in the box, Spock finds that he quite likes the texture of Mr. Sulu's hair and cannot stop himself from petting the lieutenant. After another dozen candies, Spock feels suddenly fatigued and rests his head on Mr. Sulu's shoulder. “Those Milk Duds are phen-mon-neem-nem-very good,” he purrs into the lieutenant's ear.
“Are you feeling okay?”
“I feel wond--” The room spins and he vomits on Mr. Sulu's lap.
-
After being yelled at for twenty minutes by Geoff (“Stop trying to kill my fucking patient! I only have one!”), Sulu takes the doctor's advice and does some research on Vulcans. (“At least try to learn something about the species you're trying to bone, you philistine!”) There's not much on courtship rituals with the exception of some veiled references to girls' periods which are inexplicably called a Vulcan's “Time.” Eventually, he gives up and surfs the articles about botany. Huh. Interesting. Says there that Vulcans consider the L-langon Globemallow to be a culinary delicacy. Sulu's got about a dozen of the plants in his greenhouse; they're pretty low maintenance and his Cardassian Cannibal Trap seems to like them well enough.
When Sulu presents a plant to Spock at their next date, he's fairly certain he's gonna find out if Vulcans are hung like mugatus later that night. Tears start to well in Spock's eye and Hikaru realizes that Spock probably hasn't seen a L-langon Globemallow since his planet died. Spock's face turns red and he seems lost for words. Oh, yeah. Hikaru Sulu is thoughtful as all fuck.
Then Spock passes out.
“Oh, shit. Oh, shit.” Sulu kneels down next to Spock and slaps the Vulcan.
Spock's eyes flutter open. “EpiPen. Top drawer.” He weakly points to his dresser. Sulu rushes over to the dresser, rifling through the drawer, throwing its contents (mostly underwear) across the room, until he finds what he's looking for. He runs back to Spock's side.
“How do I?”
“Thigh. Inside,” Spock chokes out. “Won't go through Starfleet issue...”
Sulu pulls Spock's pants down, accidentally taking his briefs down in haste and what do you know Vulcans are hung like mugatu but now's neither the time nor the place. Hikaru jabs Spock with the epipen.
Then cries out in pain.
He was holding the pen backwards and stabbed the needle straight through his thumb nail which is apparently not as a protective a substance as his standard issue pants. Spock rips the pen out of Hikaru's thumb and inserts it into his own thigh.
Sulu tries to grab his communicator and call Geoff but his arm won't move. “What the hell is in that thing?” he asks Spock but he can't move his mouth so it comes out as, “Uh uh el ih ih uh ih?”
But Spock apparently catches his drift because he answers, “It contains tereline, the Vulcan equivalent of adrenaline.”
“Uh ih ih oo ah eh?”
“I do not know. No Human has ever injected himself with tereline before.”
“Ah uh-eh-ah.”
“Spock to M'Benga. There is a medical emergency in my quarters.”
“Of course there is,” Geoff grumbles through the communicator.
-
It takes Dr. M'Benga four days to make the clean room for Spock's next romantic engagement with Mr. Sulu. It is completely white with padded walls. The replicator is programed to only generate things that have been deemed unlikely to kill Spock or Mr. Sulu by Dr. M'Benga and Cupcake. There is a couch, a holo-projector, a table and chairs, and a bed without sheets. (Spock suspects that Cupcake was generous with allowing them furniture. The Head of Security could certainly kill someone with anything in the room, including the room itself.)
Dinner is agreeable. (No hot food that could burn either of them. No soup that they could drown in. No chocolate.)
The holovid is interesting. (A calm, sedate documentary about tree slugs that could not possibly cause shock or panic attacks.)
The company is appealing. (Mr. Sulu-Hikaru smiles at him repeatedly and laughs at his attempts at humor.)
As they sit on the hypoallergenic couch, watching tree slugs copulate, Hikaru takes Spock's hand, twining their fingers together. They sit like this thirty-two minutes until the film is over, Spock squirming slightly in an attempt to hide his erection. This is not fair.
“Is something wrong?”
“In my culture, holding hands with a date for half an hour would make one a tease.”
Hikaru smiles. “Well, in my culture, you're not a tease if you plan on putting out.”
“Putting out what?”
-
“E 8.”
“Miss. D 4.”
“Miss.” Geoff glances down at his PADD. “Are they still doing it? Their life signs are pretty erratic.”
Cupcake cranes his neck to look at the video monitor. “Yep. Still doing it.”
Geoff sighs. “Man, I got stuff to do.”
“It's your turn.”
“A 1.”
“Miss.”
Author: katiemariie is my main but ifanythingelse is where this is posted
Rating: R
Word Count: 1557
Pairings: Spock/Sulu
Summary: Sometimes cultural differences can be awkward. Sometimes times they can be downright painful.
Disclaimer: I don't own Star Trek.
Notes: This was written for the lightening round at help_haiti for sumofparts.
“You're doing it again,” Geoff says between bites of his sandwich.
“Doing what again?” Sulu asks without turning to face the doctor.
“Pining. Over Spock.”
“I'm not pining over Spock.”
“You're pining. You're pining like a pine tree.” This gets Sulu to face him.
“What? That doesn't even-You can't just make up figures of speech. That defeats the whole purpose.”
“You're deflecting.”
“I'm not--”
“You're deflecting like a deflector shield.”
“Oh my god!”
“See, look how upset you are. You never get upset. This infatuation with Spock is obviously taking it's toll.”
“No, your esoteric metaphors are taking a toll-”
“They're similes.”
“What?”
“They're similes. I used the word 'like.' It's a simile if it uses the words 'like' or 'as.' And stop trying to distract me. I think we were getting somewhere.”
“Getting somewhere? I'm not one of your patients. You can't psycho-analyze me.”
“I'm trying to help you here but if you can't take a little friendly advice I'll eat my lunch elsewhere.”
“Wait. Don't. Just sit back down. I...”
“Yes?”
“I might have feelings for Spock.”
“Good. Admitting you have a problem is the first step.”
“What's the second step?”
“I don't know. No one's done that twelve step business for years. Apparently, telling people with dual diagnoses to stop taking their meds didn't work out too well.”
“You know I have no idea what you're talking about.”
“People rarely do. Now, I think you need to approach Spock with your feelings. Get things out in the open.”
“Really? He's a Vulcan. I don't think rushing in there with the warm and fuzzies is the best idea.”
“Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't realize you were the ship's resident expert on Vulcans. Oh, wait, that's me.”
“You don't have to get all snippy. I'll do it.”
“Go ahead.”
“What? Now?”
“There's no time like the present.”
“Spare me the cliches,” Sulu sighs as he gets up from the table.
“Good luck and godspeed.”
“Fuck your face, M'Benga.”
“Love you too, honey.”
Sulu walks over to Spock's table and takes a deep breath. “Hi, commander.”
“Lieutenant.” Spock nods.
“I, uh, hmm, uhhh...” He looks back at Geoff who's giving him the thumbs up and mouthing, “Go for it.”
“Is something wrong?”
“No, um. I just wanted to say that I like you-being with you. I like being with you.”
“I find your company agreeable as well.”
“Cool. Awesome. Do you wanna do something later? Together? We could-I could teach you how to fence.”
“I am free tomorrow after alpha shift.”
“Great. I'll reserve the gym.”
“I will meet you at 1900 hours.”
“Awesome.” Sulu feels like he should put a button on this conversation instead of awkwardly skulking back to his table. He raises his right hand to eye level. Spock mimics this action, quirking his eyebrow. Sulu smacks their hands together with possibly too much force because Spock falls out of his chair and curls into the fetal position on the floor.
“What the fuck did you do?” Geoff says as he rushes over to examine Spock.
“I just gave him a high five.”
“You can't do that to a Vulcan! They've got three thousand nerve fibers in their hands. It's like kicking them in the balls.”
“I didn't know! Spock, I'm so sorry.”
The Vulcan just groans.
-
A few days later, Spock invites Mr. Sulu to his quarters to watch a documentary about Andorian orchids. Spock is understandably reluctant to engage in something as physical as fencing with Sulu considering his recent injury. His hand still aches occasionally but Dr. M'Benga assures him that any pain in his kidneys is purely sympathetic.
Sulu arrives at the prescribed hour with various “snacks” that he claims to be customary to human cinematic viewership: popcorn, licorice, and small bite-sized confections called Milk Duds. Spock finds the Milk Duds to be the most logical candy he has ever consumed. When chewed, the stickiness of the Duds removes the popcorn remnants from one's teeth.
After consuming half of the Milk Duds in the box, Spock finds that he quite likes the texture of Mr. Sulu's hair and cannot stop himself from petting the lieutenant. After another dozen candies, Spock feels suddenly fatigued and rests his head on Mr. Sulu's shoulder. “Those Milk Duds are phen-mon-neem-nem-very good,” he purrs into the lieutenant's ear.
“Are you feeling okay?”
“I feel wond--” The room spins and he vomits on Mr. Sulu's lap.
-
After being yelled at for twenty minutes by Geoff (“Stop trying to kill my fucking patient! I only have one!”), Sulu takes the doctor's advice and does some research on Vulcans. (“At least try to learn something about the species you're trying to bone, you philistine!”) There's not much on courtship rituals with the exception of some veiled references to girls' periods which are inexplicably called a Vulcan's “Time.” Eventually, he gives up and surfs the articles about botany. Huh. Interesting. Says there that Vulcans consider the L-langon Globemallow to be a culinary delicacy. Sulu's got about a dozen of the plants in his greenhouse; they're pretty low maintenance and his Cardassian Cannibal Trap seems to like them well enough.
When Sulu presents a plant to Spock at their next date, he's fairly certain he's gonna find out if Vulcans are hung like mugatus later that night. Tears start to well in Spock's eye and Hikaru realizes that Spock probably hasn't seen a L-langon Globemallow since his planet died. Spock's face turns red and he seems lost for words. Oh, yeah. Hikaru Sulu is thoughtful as all fuck.
Then Spock passes out.
“Oh, shit. Oh, shit.” Sulu kneels down next to Spock and slaps the Vulcan.
Spock's eyes flutter open. “EpiPen. Top drawer.” He weakly points to his dresser. Sulu rushes over to the dresser, rifling through the drawer, throwing its contents (mostly underwear) across the room, until he finds what he's looking for. He runs back to Spock's side.
“How do I?”
“Thigh. Inside,” Spock chokes out. “Won't go through Starfleet issue...”
Sulu pulls Spock's pants down, accidentally taking his briefs down in haste and what do you know Vulcans are hung like mugatu but now's neither the time nor the place. Hikaru jabs Spock with the epipen.
Then cries out in pain.
He was holding the pen backwards and stabbed the needle straight through his thumb nail which is apparently not as a protective a substance as his standard issue pants. Spock rips the pen out of Hikaru's thumb and inserts it into his own thigh.
Sulu tries to grab his communicator and call Geoff but his arm won't move. “What the hell is in that thing?” he asks Spock but he can't move his mouth so it comes out as, “Uh uh el ih ih uh ih?”
But Spock apparently catches his drift because he answers, “It contains tereline, the Vulcan equivalent of adrenaline.”
“Uh ih ih oo ah eh?”
“I do not know. No Human has ever injected himself with tereline before.”
“Ah uh-eh-ah.”
“Spock to M'Benga. There is a medical emergency in my quarters.”
“Of course there is,” Geoff grumbles through the communicator.
-
It takes Dr. M'Benga four days to make the clean room for Spock's next romantic engagement with Mr. Sulu. It is completely white with padded walls. The replicator is programed to only generate things that have been deemed unlikely to kill Spock or Mr. Sulu by Dr. M'Benga and Cupcake. There is a couch, a holo-projector, a table and chairs, and a bed without sheets. (Spock suspects that Cupcake was generous with allowing them furniture. The Head of Security could certainly kill someone with anything in the room, including the room itself.)
Dinner is agreeable. (No hot food that could burn either of them. No soup that they could drown in. No chocolate.)
The holovid is interesting. (A calm, sedate documentary about tree slugs that could not possibly cause shock or panic attacks.)
The company is appealing. (Mr. Sulu-Hikaru smiles at him repeatedly and laughs at his attempts at humor.)
As they sit on the hypoallergenic couch, watching tree slugs copulate, Hikaru takes Spock's hand, twining their fingers together. They sit like this thirty-two minutes until the film is over, Spock squirming slightly in an attempt to hide his erection. This is not fair.
“Is something wrong?”
“In my culture, holding hands with a date for half an hour would make one a tease.”
Hikaru smiles. “Well, in my culture, you're not a tease if you plan on putting out.”
“Putting out what?”
-
“E 8.”
“Miss. D 4.”
“Miss.” Geoff glances down at his PADD. “Are they still doing it? Their life signs are pretty erratic.”
Cupcake cranes his neck to look at the video monitor. “Yep. Still doing it.”
Geoff sighs. “Man, I got stuff to do.”
“It's your turn.”
“A 1.”
“Miss.”