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drive_through_rxTitle: Impossible
Fandom: Star Trek XI
Pairing: Chekov/Sulu
Rating: NC-17
Word count: 1060
Notes: God, I love kink memes. The prompt was simply bottom!Sulu, and I ran with that baby.
They barely made it back to their shared bunk before Chekov pushed Sulu against a wall, storm-grey eyes catching and pinning the pilot's gaze unblinkingly.
"Again. One more time you barely miss death." Despite his steady grip and still expression, Chekov's voice betrayed him, high and tense and raspy. "I hate when you volunteer for away missions."
"I have to go when I'm the best one for the job, Pavel. I can't ignore my duty," Sulu said quietly, his breath coming just as quickly as it had when he pulled the shuttle up at the kind of angle that shouldn't have been possible, definitely wasn't advisable, but got them just out of range in the nick of time. "I always come back, don't I?"
"But what if you don't?" Chekov looked away, and Sulu realized that his lashes were wet. "Why can't you stay?" His skinny arms were stronger than they looked, shoving Sulu into the wall hard. "If something should happen to you..."
"Hey, shh." Reaching gentle hands out, Sulu stroked Chekov's sides, coming to rest at his hips. "Nothing will happen." Pretty mouth turning into a frown, Chekov lifted his chin and shook his head.
"I'm young, not naive. You don't know..." He swallowed hard. "You don't even know what happens now, for certain."
"That's the point of life. The fun of it." The smile Sulu flashed was bright, quick as adrenaline flooding the bloodstream. "The surprise." Surprise was right; the last thing he expected was for Chekov to grab his shirtfront, yank him around and push him onto his bed.
"You. You are impossible, Hikaru." Rough, driven by the kind of lust that was a neighbor to fear and anger, he stripped Sulu of shirts, scraped his nails down the toned, pale-golden chest on his way down to undo his lover's pants. "Impossible to reason with." Helping by lifting his hips, Sulu was foiled in his attempt to unlace his boots when his fierce young Russian stepped closer, shoving between his knees. "Impossible to go without."
"I'm impossible? You're the stubborn one." The argument was abandoned when Chekov got a knee on the bed between Sulu's legs and stretched out atop him, still dressed. Sharp teeth nipped at Sulu's lower lip, and then his mouth was being claimed, ravaged by desperate starving kisses until his lungs were aching for air. "Fuck, Pavel," he breathed after a moment, leaning up to lick the corner of darkening-pink lips.
"Yes." Shifting down, he bit Sulu's throat, high enough to be noticeable while in uniform, perfectly placed for him to glance over from the right side of the helm and see the mark he'd left-- temporary bruise, permanent claim, and he sucked the spot ungently.
"Vampire, stop, everyone will see."
"Is the point." Then Chekov slid away, shimmying off the bed to strip efficiently, baring long feet, a narrow chest, coltish legs, and thick stiff cock. "You are mine."
"Yeah, I am yours." Finally succeeding in kicking away his pants, Sulu still didn't have time to get his boots off when his legs were pulled until his ass was at the edge of the bed. "Pavel?"
"Mm. Watch the boots." Then Chekov lifted one of Sulu's legs, resting his calf on his shoulder, leaving his lover exposed and needy and gorgeous. "You're mine," he said again, this time softly, and all Sulu could do was nod until a slim, slick finger rubbed against his hole and he shivered all over.
Usually but not always, Sulu was the one doing the taking, and really they were just as satisfied to blow each other or stroke each other off most of the time. Squirming slightly as Chekov muttered soothing god-knows-what in Russian, he breathed in, out, in, out, in, and in paying attention to his breath, his body relaxed.
"Sometimes you piss me off so much," Chekov told him, working in three fingers now, tickling inside until he found Sulu's prostate. "But I never think to hurt you. Only this." A quick palmful of lube spread on his own cock, and Chekov pushed in with no fanfare, a simple and jarring thrust that rocked Sulu's body and made his jaw drop. "Only make you scream. Remind you, remind me how it is impossible to stay mad when it's..." Chekov bit his lip, his eyes fluttering closed as Sulu started to push back into his thrusts.
"When it's love that makes you angry at me?" he gasped, reaching up to curl a hand at the back of Chekov's neck, fingertips digging into curls. He hauled his lover down until they were face to face, Chekov holding deep inside the molten heat of Sulu's body. After a few shaky breaths, Chekov dropped his forehead against Sulu's.
"Hikaru, I do. I love you." One small kiss, another and another and another, too light and quick to be caught. Trying and failing to match Chekov's swiftness, Sulu dropped his head back against the bed and wrapped his other leg around Chekov's waist.
"I love you back." Catching a pale hand, Sulu dragged it down, wrapping his around Chekov's around his cock. "Now fuck me, Pavel, and don't stop."
"I can do this," he agreed with a smile, the first since Sulu had returned from the away mission. He started out slowly again, long strokes where each of them vividly felt every inch of deliciously eased friction, but in minutes they were speeding into each other, every slap of skin on skin percussion under the point-counterpoint of moans and pleas and fervently called names.
"Ah, ahgod, 'karu," Chekov panted by his lover's ear, hitting the peak with a wordless whine of ecstasy. The pulses of heat deep inside sent Sulu groaning, the incautious pull-out dragging right across his prostate and catapulting him into orgasm, Chekov right there to swallow his cries with kisses.
"Fuck," Sulu sighed after a moment, a thoroughly pleased expletive. He dragged his fingertips through the come coating his belly, and Chekov snagged his wrist, curling his tongue around each finger in turn. "I should get into mortal danger more often if this is going to happen every time."
"No. You want, you ask," Chekov murmured, accent thicker and voice lower in the afterglow, and nipped Sulu's fingertips. "Next time you scare me like this, I spank you."
"I can work with that."
Fandom: Star Trek XI
Pairing: Chekov/Sulu
Rating: NC-17
Word count: 1060
Notes: God, I love kink memes. The prompt was simply bottom!Sulu, and I ran with that baby.
They barely made it back to their shared bunk before Chekov pushed Sulu against a wall, storm-grey eyes catching and pinning the pilot's gaze unblinkingly.
"Again. One more time you barely miss death." Despite his steady grip and still expression, Chekov's voice betrayed him, high and tense and raspy. "I hate when you volunteer for away missions."
"I have to go when I'm the best one for the job, Pavel. I can't ignore my duty," Sulu said quietly, his breath coming just as quickly as it had when he pulled the shuttle up at the kind of angle that shouldn't have been possible, definitely wasn't advisable, but got them just out of range in the nick of time. "I always come back, don't I?"
"But what if you don't?" Chekov looked away, and Sulu realized that his lashes were wet. "Why can't you stay?" His skinny arms were stronger than they looked, shoving Sulu into the wall hard. "If something should happen to you..."
"Hey, shh." Reaching gentle hands out, Sulu stroked Chekov's sides, coming to rest at his hips. "Nothing will happen." Pretty mouth turning into a frown, Chekov lifted his chin and shook his head.
"I'm young, not naive. You don't know..." He swallowed hard. "You don't even know what happens now, for certain."
"That's the point of life. The fun of it." The smile Sulu flashed was bright, quick as adrenaline flooding the bloodstream. "The surprise." Surprise was right; the last thing he expected was for Chekov to grab his shirtfront, yank him around and push him onto his bed.
"You. You are impossible, Hikaru." Rough, driven by the kind of lust that was a neighbor to fear and anger, he stripped Sulu of shirts, scraped his nails down the toned, pale-golden chest on his way down to undo his lover's pants. "Impossible to reason with." Helping by lifting his hips, Sulu was foiled in his attempt to unlace his boots when his fierce young Russian stepped closer, shoving between his knees. "Impossible to go without."
"I'm impossible? You're the stubborn one." The argument was abandoned when Chekov got a knee on the bed between Sulu's legs and stretched out atop him, still dressed. Sharp teeth nipped at Sulu's lower lip, and then his mouth was being claimed, ravaged by desperate starving kisses until his lungs were aching for air. "Fuck, Pavel," he breathed after a moment, leaning up to lick the corner of darkening-pink lips.
"Yes." Shifting down, he bit Sulu's throat, high enough to be noticeable while in uniform, perfectly placed for him to glance over from the right side of the helm and see the mark he'd left-- temporary bruise, permanent claim, and he sucked the spot ungently.
"Vampire, stop, everyone will see."
"Is the point." Then Chekov slid away, shimmying off the bed to strip efficiently, baring long feet, a narrow chest, coltish legs, and thick stiff cock. "You are mine."
"Yeah, I am yours." Finally succeeding in kicking away his pants, Sulu still didn't have time to get his boots off when his legs were pulled until his ass was at the edge of the bed. "Pavel?"
"Mm. Watch the boots." Then Chekov lifted one of Sulu's legs, resting his calf on his shoulder, leaving his lover exposed and needy and gorgeous. "You're mine," he said again, this time softly, and all Sulu could do was nod until a slim, slick finger rubbed against his hole and he shivered all over.
Usually but not always, Sulu was the one doing the taking, and really they were just as satisfied to blow each other or stroke each other off most of the time. Squirming slightly as Chekov muttered soothing god-knows-what in Russian, he breathed in, out, in, out, in, and in paying attention to his breath, his body relaxed.
"Sometimes you piss me off so much," Chekov told him, working in three fingers now, tickling inside until he found Sulu's prostate. "But I never think to hurt you. Only this." A quick palmful of lube spread on his own cock, and Chekov pushed in with no fanfare, a simple and jarring thrust that rocked Sulu's body and made his jaw drop. "Only make you scream. Remind you, remind me how it is impossible to stay mad when it's..." Chekov bit his lip, his eyes fluttering closed as Sulu started to push back into his thrusts.
"When it's love that makes you angry at me?" he gasped, reaching up to curl a hand at the back of Chekov's neck, fingertips digging into curls. He hauled his lover down until they were face to face, Chekov holding deep inside the molten heat of Sulu's body. After a few shaky breaths, Chekov dropped his forehead against Sulu's.
"Hikaru, I do. I love you." One small kiss, another and another and another, too light and quick to be caught. Trying and failing to match Chekov's swiftness, Sulu dropped his head back against the bed and wrapped his other leg around Chekov's waist.
"I love you back." Catching a pale hand, Sulu dragged it down, wrapping his around Chekov's around his cock. "Now fuck me, Pavel, and don't stop."
"I can do this," he agreed with a smile, the first since Sulu had returned from the away mission. He started out slowly again, long strokes where each of them vividly felt every inch of deliciously eased friction, but in minutes they were speeding into each other, every slap of skin on skin percussion under the point-counterpoint of moans and pleas and fervently called names.
"Ah, ahgod, 'karu," Chekov panted by his lover's ear, hitting the peak with a wordless whine of ecstasy. The pulses of heat deep inside sent Sulu groaning, the incautious pull-out dragging right across his prostate and catapulting him into orgasm, Chekov right there to swallow his cries with kisses.
"Fuck," Sulu sighed after a moment, a thoroughly pleased expletive. He dragged his fingertips through the come coating his belly, and Chekov snagged his wrist, curling his tongue around each finger in turn. "I should get into mortal danger more often if this is going to happen every time."
"No. You want, you ask," Chekov murmured, accent thicker and voice lower in the afterglow, and nipped Sulu's fingertips. "Next time you scare me like this, I spank you."
"I can work with that."