Follow, Follow
The first time Sulu meets Chekov, it’s at the academy, three days before they are thrust together on a last-ditch effort mission to save Vulcan. Sulu is leaving class, hurrying around the back of the building hoping to cross campus just a little faster. That’s when he runs into him. A kid, a new recruit, probably, smoking a cigarette. Leaning against the brick wall nonchalantly, in a clearly non-smoking area. He is wearing lose-fitting black slacks and a worn-looking black leather coat over a bright yellow Starfleet shirt.
Hikaru pauses. He’s one of those boys that likes boys, and this boy looks particularly… tantalizing. One foot against the wall, one down in the grass, lips slightly parted, cigarette hanging just a half an inch away from pink, glistening lips… He steadies himself. This is no time to gawk, dammit! He has classes to get to. Hell, this kid probably does too.
“Don’t you have a class to get to?” He says irately, bringing himself up to his full height in a subconscious attempt to intimidate the other.
“Yes,” the kid replies. Sulu noted that his Standard was clearly accented. Something like… Russian, maybe? “Advanced warp and transwarp theory.” His voice remains even and calm, like he isn’t announcing that he is currently skipping out on arguably the hardest course offered at the academy. A course only open to fourth-year students with exceptional marks.
“But I have already learned this material, so it is not important that I am going to class.” By the tone of his voice, he obviously would have a hard time caring less. He takes a long, deep drag of his cigarette, puffing the smoke out the side of his mouth in a harsh stream. He blows it in Sulu’s direction, pointedly.
“Yeah, sure, kid.” Sulu said, not believing a word of it. “You can’t smoke here, either. And aren’t you too young for those? How’d you even get them?” Sulu hated himself for sounding like such a rule-abiding idiot, but the words just fell out. He babbled when intimidated. The kid laughed.
“I am Russian. Where I come from, we drink more vodka than water, and breathe more cigarette smoke than air.” He said ‘vodka’ like ‘wodka’, and ‘water’ like ‘vater’. And Sulu has to admit, he looks pretty damn comfortable behind that cigarette. Another puff of smoke in Hikaru’s direction.
“Chekov,” He introduces himself, pushing off the wall and offering Sulu his left hand. “Pavel.” Sulu shifts his books around and shakes the proffered hand awkwardly. Could the kid… Chekov, really not be bothered to shift his cigarette over?
“Sulu, Hikaru.” He sighed, looking at his watch impatiently. “Look, I have a class I have to get to. I, you know, go to class.” Chekov grins a little, exposing a sliver of white teeth behind those lips. Another drag, another puff. This time away from Sulu.
“How old are you, Sulu, Hikaru?” The question is innocent enough in nature, but coming from this boy it sounds like a challenge.
“Twenty one.” Hikaru says defiantly.
“Seventeen,” Chekov offers. His v’s are all w’s, and vice versa. This bothers Sulu. Chekov holds out a cigarette, tapping it out of the package like Hikaru has only ever seen in movies. He stares at the offering, Chekov’s arm extended between them. It should have been awkward, but it wasn’t. Hikaru checks his watch again, then drops his books. They hit the grass with a thud. He takes the cigarette and lets his posture relax. He stares at Chekov openly, giving him a once-over, from toe to head.
“Got a light?” Chekov nods, gesturing for Sulu to lean closer. He obliges, not noticing Chekov’s free hand which is reaching towards him, and not into a pocket. Doesn’t notice, that is, until the hand is on the back of his neck. Their lips connect, and a puff of smoke is blown into his mouth. Sulu gags, pulling back roughly, finding the hand no longer there. Chekov takes another drag, puffs out, in his direction again, and grins. Just a little. No teeth, just an upturning of his lips, right at the corner of his mouth.
Sulu grabs his books off the ground with as much dignity as he can muster, and leaves.
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The next day, Sulu is taking the same shortcut, and Chekov is still there, leaning against the wall and smoking. He’s got a little flask sticking out of his breast pocket now: small, lean, silver, and Sulu can only imagine it’s full of vodka. Wodka.
Sulu realizes with a jolt that the cigarette is still shoved deep into the pocket of the pants he wore yesterday. He had put it there before rushing off to class, and hasn’t thought of it since. Good thing he hadn’t put them in the wash, it probably would have ruined them.
Chekov sees him coming, and pushes himself up off the wall so he is standing directly in Sulu’s path. He is lithe and skinny, but looks somehow muscular. He could be a runner, Sulu things idly. He stops, way blocked, and stares into Chekov’s eyes. He cannot read them, only knows that they look playful and predatory.
“You are rushing to xenobotany, yes, Hikaru?” Sulu finds himself nodding, despite cringing on the inside at the unexpected use of his given name.
“You don’t have class tomorrow,” Chekov says matter-of-factly. “Meet me here.” Sulu knows he could refuse, should refuse, but knows somehow that he won’t. He nods again, already walking around Chekov and in the direction of his class building.
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Sulu doesn’t know how Chekov knew he was heading to a xenobotany class, and doesn’t know how he knew that there was no class on Thursdays. He also assumes that Chekov knows Sulu heads there from lunch, which would explain why he doesn’t look surprised to see Sulu out of Starfleet uniform. He is wearing light blue jeans with a tear in the left knee, a light green buttoned up shirt, and black high-top sneakers. He has no books with him. Sulu doesn’t entirely know why he left lunch early to go back to his own room and change, but he did, and it’s too late to take the actions back now.
Chekov smiles as Sulu approaches, and this time it’s not only predatory, it’s feral. It’s all lust and desire and cunning, and it hits Sulu all over again that this boy is only seventeen. Not even legal yet, for fuck’s sake!
Where I come from, we drink more vodka than water, and breathe more cigarette smoke than air.
Then again, Sulu thinks, if you’re not sexually deviant at seventeen, when will you be? Chekov drops his cigarette and steps on it, effectively squashing it out. A thin wisp of smoke curls out from under his boot. And then his lips are on Sulu’s, his hands are in black hair, on a lightly perspiring neck, slipping under a green shirt, dipping under the waistband of blue jeans. A long, cold finger traces the upper edge of Sulu’s boxers, and Hikaru shudders, pulling back.
“Fuck,” he breathes. Chekov grins that same grin he had that first day - just a little bit of teeth - and pulls another cigarette out of his pocket. He lights it before speaking again.
“Yes,” he says calmly, puffing smoke out the corner of his mouth, “that is the plan. Fucking.” Sulu wonders how he can be so goddamn calm about all this, when it feels like his heart may be going into overdrive, no matter how calm he keeps his face.
Chekov turns and starts walking away, hips swaying just slightly. Sulu has never thought of the Starfleet uniform as sexy before. Not until now, watching the way Chekov owns it, walks along like it’s his rightful skin. Like he fills it out, not like it fills him.
Sulu follows him, about twenty feet behind. Chekov didn’t say he could, but Chekov didn’t say he couldn’t either. And those hips were definitely screaming ‘follow me’. And so he obeys, unknowingly setting a precedent for their future encounters.
Chekov eventually leads them back to Sulu’s own room, and Hikaru is beyond wondering how he knew where it was, because Chekov hasn’t turned back to look at him or give him any indication of his intentions, but his hips are saying all Hikaru needs to hear. Follow, follow, follow. Chekov waits at the door, and Sulu opens it. Chekov breezes past, stepping into the room and settling on the desk top like he belongs there. The way he holds himself, Sulu thinks, the room could just have easily have been his.
They fuck. Not on the bed or on the floor but on the desk. Then up against the wall. Then Chekov sucks him off, and Hikaru’s never come so hard in his life, he thinks, because he’s seeing stars and this is nothing like sleeping with that guy from his AP biology class back in high school. Chekov bottoms every time, but Hikaru feels himself totally and completely suppressed by Chekov’s sexuality. He is so in control of his desires, like he knows exactly what he wants and getting it is merely a matter of performing the right equation.
Sulu falls asleep after the blowjob from Heaven, and when he wakes up on the floor by his bed, neck stiff and limbs heavy and aching, Chekov is gone. The next day, they are called to an assembly, then scrambled aboard starships, headed for the unknown.
tbc.