Untitled (What You Risk) - Kirk/Sulu, mentioned Sulu/Chekov
Title: Untitled (What You Risk)
Pairings: Kirk/Sulu, mentioned Sulu/Chekov
Word Count: 331
Summary: "What you risk reveals what you value." ~ Jeanette Winterson
A/N: Ah, something short I churned out in, like, ten minutes. I just love torturing poor Chekov; I have no idea why . . .
It’s not that Sulu doesn’t love Chekov; he’s just not in love with him. It’s a vague, overused, and perhaps even a cruel response, but it’s the best he can come up with. He could never bring himself to admit that he just might love Kirk’s prick. That’s the cruelest thing he could ever say.
So, of course, he ends up showing him instead.
Thinking back on it, he shouldn’t have asked Chekov out, shouldn’t have gotten his hopes up. He shouldn’t have ended up bent over Kirk’s couch instead. But, it’s Kirk’s fault that he pocket-dials Chekov, his fault that the ensign hears them grunting and rutting and fucking. It’s his fault that Chekov doesn’t even breathe in his direction the next day.
No one seems to notice the sudden tension between the helmsmen; no one but Kirk, of course. Kirk who’s nostrils flare in a sick sort of pride, but his eyes wilt in sorrow. It makes Sulu wonder how he can stand to be around such a contrary bastard.
But he does stand it, loves it even. It’s then Sulu realizes that he’s a contrary bastard himself.
They deserve each other.
Someone is jostling his shoulder and it’s Kirk, the bastard.
“Hey.”
“Hey.”
Kirk’s hand is bigger than Chekov’s; bigger, rougher, firmer. He has the hands of a man, of someone who could both protect him and punish him. They are the hands of someone that Sulu doesn’t have protect. His pulse races when he recalls the places those hands, fingers have been and imagines the places they could be, will be.
“I love you,” he sighs, delirious with self-pity, and he knows it’s not the truth, at least not the whole truth. But the words are warm on his tongue, light and careless. They sound right in this sea of wrong.
He should be off apologizing to Chekov, but instead Kirk fucks him into the pillows, whispering sweet nothings in his ear as if he means them.