Crushed: A Sulu/Chekov fic

[katmarajade]

Title: Crushed
Author: katmarajade 
Rating: PG13
Disclaimer: Not mine. Sadly. 
Characters/Pairings: Sulu/Chekov
Word Count: 4500
Author's Notes: written for community.livejournal.com/st_xi_kink_meme/7137.html at st_xi_kink_meme 
Summary:  Chekov thinks he's being subtle about his crush on Sulu, but it turns out he's really not.  angst and cluelessness and fluff ensue.

He knows very well that it’s unprofessional, so Chekov makes a concerted effort to hide the enormous crush that he’s had on Lieutenant Sulu ever since he came back from that drill with wide blown pupils and a split lip.  He tries.  Really, he does. 

 

But when Lieutenant Sulu flashes him that lopsided smile and asks him how he is, how he slept last night, how his run was… he can never quite keep the beaming grin from his face.  Just the idea that someone like Sulu could possibly care enough to ask about him is exhilarating.  It makes his heart pound and his ears turn red, and, though he tries so hard, he is quite sure that his responses always come out a little too breathy, and he usually has to catch himself from rambling and/or grinning dopily. 

 

Chekov makes sure to school his face into a picture of blankness and innocence when the Keptin or Lieutenant Uhura ask him whether he’s interested in anyone on the ship.  His smooth and noncommittal responses should hopefully deter them, and he does not seem to notice that they tend to smirk in Sulu’s direction whenever they ask. 

 

He becomes a bit bolder, thinking that no one has yet noticed how much brighter his smile gets whenever Sulu walks onto the bridge or just how often the phrase, ‘Well, Lieutenant Sulu says…’   peppers his speech.  He has even had lunch with Sulu nineteen times.  Nineteen times!  This is part of his master plan, where he engages Lieutenant Sulu in conversation about something or other (he has a long list of topics that Sulu might find interesting on his PADD for reference) immediately after their shift, when they tend to head towards the dining hall. 

 

If his topic works well enough and Sulu starts talking about ideas for evasive maneuvers not covered in the Starfleet pilot training program, how fencing should never be underestimated, how the best sourdough bread in San Francisco still comes from a 300 year old starter at a now run down shop at Fisherman’s Wharf, or about a particularly strange alien plant they’ve just picked up on a mission… well, once Sulu gets talking on a topic he’s genuinely excited about, he does not even seem to notice that he has wound up sitting next to a gangly seventeen year old Ensign in the mess hall instead of his many other much cooler friends at other tables. 

 

This, in particular, gives Chekov a rush of accomplishment.  Lieutenant Sulu is usually pretty taciturn.  He’s friendly and responds to people and talks plenty, but it takes very special topics to get him all excited and rambling, and Chekov has made it one of his missions in life to see that side of Sulu as much as he possibly can.  Sulu lights up and his crooked grin gets even more lopsided and he starts using his hands to gesture wildly, which he never lets himself do normally, and sometimes he even touches Chekov to make a point.  He has done this twenty six times.  Twenty six times.  Sometimes Chekov wonders a bit wistfully if Lieutenant Sulu notices that maybe they’re becoming friends. 

 

Chekov thinks he would make an excellent friend.  Granted, he has not had much experience in the arena.  Growing up, his peers thought he was strange and conceited, because he was so far ahead of them mentally.  When he arrived at the Academy in Moscow and eventually in San Francisco, well, he found that other students were uncomfortable around him.  He was too smart, too young, too excitable. 

 

Sulu does not treat him like he’s too smart or too young.  Sulu is nearly as smart as he is—even has a doctorate in Astrophysics, which Chekov thinks is very impressive.  Granted, Sulu’s grasp on string theory is a bit weak and some of the physics Chekov uses (or defies) when talking about the Enterprise, in particular transport theories, goes over his head.  But it goes over almost everyone’s head, except Lieutenant Commander Scott perhaps, even his professors at the Academy, so he does not hold it against Sulu.  Besides, Sulu also knows many other things that Chekov does not, such as how to kill Romulans with a sword and how to keep plants alive longer than two days.  And these are, perhaps, more practical than theoretical physics.  Though he would never admit that out loud. 

 

No, Sulu treats him like an equal.  In a way that no one else ever has.  It’s intoxicating.  Sometimes, even, Sulu calls him Pavel.  He has done this six times!  Six times!  It makes his heart pound and he cannot breathe and he has to work extra hard to not grin like a complete fool, but he’s pretty sure that Sulu has not noticed.  Lately, though, he’s been practicing in the mirror trying to master a look that says ‘I am not at all affected by you, Sulu, no matter how brilliant and handsome and impressive you are.  See, look how cool I am.  Not at all giddy or stupid like a teenager with a crush.  Unaffected.  Yes.’  He thinks it’s going rather well. 

 

He thinks it’s going rather well, that is, until one day in the mess hall.  He’s by himself, because Sulu had to go to Medical after his shift for a follow up physical after a particularly perilous mission on planet that had landed Kirk and Sulu in sickbay for three full days the week before.   Chekov does not mind eating alone and fills his tray before heading over to an empty table.  He hears the loud laughter and fast paced conversation behind him, but doesn’t bother to pay attention until he hears his own name. 

 

“And have you seen Chekov following him around like a puppy.  It’s pathetic.  And you can tell, of course, that Sulu is just humoring him.  I mean, Sulu’s a great guy, so of course he’s not going to tell the little runt how annoying or obvious he is!   It’s kind of sad, really.  The kid clearly has it bad, mooning over a Lieutenant like a complete fool.  Of course, I keep telling Sulu that he needs to let him down easy.  We talk, you know?”  The female Ensign from Engineering is waving a replicated carrot stick in the air and chattering at warp speed.  The rest of the table is watching her and laughing at her... at him. 

 

“Like Sulu would go for a piece of jailbait like that, anyway.  He’s, what? Twelve?  Come on…” She looks up suddenly and notices Chekov staring at her.  She has the decency to flush at least a little bit.  Then she calls over,

 

“Sorry, kid.  Didn’t mean to burst your bubble.  Better to find out now, though, huh?”  She makes a fake sympathy sound, and Chekov finds that he is no longer hungry.  He says nothing, just stands, puts his tray through the recycler, and walks out. 

 

He runs frenetic and uneven laps through a maze of the cargo bay and little used sections of Engineering for nearly three hours.  Then he goes back to his room, takes a shower, and vows never to humiliate himself or Lieutenant Sulu like that again.      

 

The next day on the Bridge, Chekov walks in exactly on time, instead of five to ten minutes early like he usually does.  He sits down at his station at the helm and Sulu spins in his seat to look at him. 

 

“Morning!  You sleep well?” Sulu asks with that lopsided smile of his. 

 

“Aye, sir.” Chekov responds quietly, far more subdued than he ever has before.  He focuses on laying out several possible routes for the Captain to choose from and doesn’t notice how every crewmember in hearing range turns to look at him or the confused, slightly hurt look on Sulu’s face. 

 

 

Sulu continues to ask him questions throughout the shift.  Usually, he lives for this, but today he has promised to be good.  Not to humiliate Lieutenant Sulu anymore.  Or himself, if he’s honest.   He responds briefly to everything, making sure to tack ‘sir’ onto each sentence.  He does not look at Sulu directly, because he thinks that, if he does, he might not be able to be strong anymore.  He also fails to notice just how miserable the pilot appears on the other side of the helm and the various looks that his fellow helmsman is getting from the other bridge crew—concerned, inquisitive, chastising, and pitying. 

 

Chekov has never been more grateful for his B-shift replacement showing up ten minutes early.  Kirk dismisses him with a lift of his chin, and Chekov is only dimly aware of the curious look in the Captain’s eye.  He dashes out, hoping to make it to the mess hall to grab a tray to eat in his room without running into Sulu or anyone from that table yesterday. 

 

“Pavel!” He hears Sulu shout his name from all the way down the hall.  No matter that his mind is screaming run, run, run away!, he can’t make himself, not when Lieutenant Sulu says his name like that.  He stands still, frozen in place, not even turning around, and waits for Sulu to catch up with him. 

 

“Pavel, geez, what’s going on?  Did I do something to, like, piss you off or something?”  Sulu sounds a little lost and unsure, which is so strange coming from him.  The Sulu that Chekov knows is always cool, collected, and confident, even when he’s fighting Romulans with his bare hands or spinning a starship in heretofore impossible ways to evade Klingon warbirds.  This is disconcerting. 

 

“Of course not, Lieutenant Sulu.  You have done nothing wrong.  Why would you think that, sir?”  Sulu’s always perfect posture slips at that and he looks like Chekov has punched him in the gut. 

 

“Why are you calling me ‘sir’ now?”  Sulu’s voice is barely audible, like he doesn’t know if he should actually ask the question. 

 

 

“You outrank me, Lieutenant Sulu.  I apologize if I have not shown you proper respect.  It was wrong of me and I do not wish to embarrass you again, sir.”  Chekov chooses to address their previous familiarity rather than his ridiculous (and apparently very obvious) crush on a commanding officer, thinking that it’s the less humiliating topic for both of them. 

 

 

“Embarrass me?”  Sulu looks for all the world like he has absolutely no idea what Chekov is talking about. 

 

 

“I must go now.  I am needed in Engineering, sir.” Chekov begs off, leaving Sulu standing in the middle of the hall looking confused and dismayed.  He hurries down the hall in the general direction of Engineering, even though he knows full well that there’s no reason for him to go down there.  But Lieutenant Commander Scott, who insists that Chekov call him Scotty, lets him help with a warp yield test, and it keeps his mind off Sulu for a few minutes.

 

 

For the rest of the week, Sulu continues to press Chekov.  It becomes apparent that Sulu is avoiding asking anything that could be answered monosyllabically, choosing instead to pester Chekov about Russia, his family, and string theory, of all things!  (Sulu hates string theory.  Has said that it’s totally illogical, damn whatever Spock says, which had made Chekov choke on his juice at the time.)  He reins himself in, however, and makes sure that his answers are short and polite and that he never makes eye contact longer than one second.  Because he thinks that 1.1 seconds might break his resolve, especially when Sulu looks at him with that overly earnest expression.  Maybe he knows that Chekov knows now how obvious his crush had been and feels bad.  Chekov isn’t sure, but it still hurts to look at Sulu too long. 

 

 

After a week of forced conversation and pleading looks, a week of Chekov answering in short, terse, decidedly un-Chekov-like sentences, a week of ‘aye, sir’s and quick exits, Sulu apparently gives up.  He stops questioning Chekov about anything outside of work and avoids looking at him in general.  It makes things quieter and awkward on the Bridge, but no one comments on it directly. 

 

 

Two weeks pass.  Chekov eats alone and spends a lot of time in his room, running, or helping Scotty with some experimental dilithium adjustments.  He’s miserable and lonely and vacillates between missing Sulu and his happy ramblings and feeling like a fool for not realizing how much he had been imposing and acting like a stupid puppy.  Like he needs anymore reasons for people to think of him as little and cute and foolish.  He yanks on one of his curls like it’s personally offended him and wishes he were twenty two like Sulu, because then he would definitely be more mature and not prone to making a fool of himself like he is now. 

 

 

Chekov also notices that Sulu is even more quiet than usual-- he does not chime in when Kirk tells stories about their missions or chat with Uhura like he usually does.  He just looks sad and stares out into space, even when they’re at warp, when the view always gives Chekov a headache.  

 

 

One day after Alpha shift finishes and Sulu has already been dismissed, Chekov finds himself being pulled aside by Lieutenant Uhura. 

 

 

“Do you need something from me, Lieutenant?”  He asks, all business. 

 

 

“Chekov, what’s going on?  Did you and Sulu fight?  He told me to stay out of it and I have, but you both look so miserable…”  She gives him a look of concern that makes him feel guilty for some reason. 

 

 

“Of course not.  Why would I fight with Lieutenant Sulu?  There is no problem.”  She gives him a look that borders on pity. 

 

 

“Oh, Chekov.” 

 

 

“I have noticed though…”  Chekov trails off, thinking whatever personal issues that Sulu is having, they are none of his business anyway and he should keep his mouth shut.  But curiosity trumps that and he continues, “Lieutenant Sulu is looking very sad these days.  I think maybe he’s depressed or has a problem or something.  Maybe you should talk to him—he looks like he needs a friend, maybe.”  He feels foolish even suggesting it, but he knows that Sulu and Uhura are friendly and thinks maybe it could help Sulu deal with whatever problems he has been having. 

 

 

Uhura rolls her eyes and drags him into an even quieter corridor.  She switches into Russian, “You are being intentionally stupid, Chekov!”

 

 

Indignant, Chekov retorts in Russian without thinking, “I’m not stupid.  I’m a genius, remember?”

 

 

“You know damn well why Sulu is upset—why are you trying to make me deal with it?  You should be talking to him instead.”

 

 

“He would not want me talking to him about such things.  It’s not my place, of course.  He does not want to tell me about his personal problems or whatever it is.”

 

 

“Personal problems?  You clueless idiot.  His personal problem is that he’s lost his best friend!”

 

 

“What are you talking about?  Who would not want to be friends with Sulu-- he’s perfect!”  Chekov looks so genuinely shocked and upset on Sulu’s behalf at the mention of this that Uhura stares at him in disbelief. 

 

 

“You, of course.”

 

 

“What!  I would never.  I am not Sulu’s best friend.”

 

 

“Well, he thought you were.  Now you act like he is a complete stranger—of course he’s upset!” 

 

 

Chekov can’t respond, just shakes his head repeatedly.  He literally jumps in the air when someone behind him clears their throat.  Turning quickly, he sees Sulu standing behind them in the corridor, eyebrows drawn low, and looking hurt. 

 

 

“Were you guys talking about me?  I heard my name.”  Chekov stares at him strangely for a second before remembering that the last part of the conversation had been in Russian, which Sulu would not have understood.  Sulu takes the silence and the strange look at face value, gives both Chekov and Uhura rather nasty looks, and walks briskly away.

 

 

Chekov feels like all the air in his lungs has been sucked out the airlock.  Feeling panicked, he turns back to Uhura who is looking at him with something akin to disappointment.  

 

 

“I am really his best friend?”  He asks, back to Standard, knowing that his question sounds pathetic and plaintive and a bit puppy dog-like. 

 

 

“Yes.”  She gives him a look like he is particularly stupid for not knowing this, and Chekov has never been happier to be called stupid in his life.  Suddenly feeling lighter than he has in a month, he beams at her, mouth stretching into the enthusiastic grin that everyone on the Enterprise had come to expect from him.  He doesn’t even notice Uhura smiling and shaking her head as he runs after Sulu. 

 

 

Sulu, however, has disappeared into the labyrinth of hallways.  Chekov pauses and asks the computer to locate Lieutenant Sulu before scampering off in that direction with an extra spring in each running step.  He just manages to stop himself before hurtling around a corner, where he can hear Sulu talking with someone, sounding extremely annoyed. 

 

 

Peeking around the corner, he sees that it is the cruel and condescending Ensign from Engineering.  She is standing there in her short red dress, hand on her hip in what is clearly supposed to be a sexy pose.  Chekov thinks she looks ridiculous. 

 

 

“I’m fine, Ensign Cameron.  Really.”  Sulu yanks a hand away when Cameron reaches for him. 

 

 

“Well, really, Sulu.  I thought you would be in a much better mood these days.  Everyone’s noticed that your little puppy dog isn’t following you around anymore.  Thought you would be happier now that you don’t have Ensign Jailbait hanging on your every word.  I could tell how frustrating that was for you.” 

 

 

She’s using that same know-it-all tone that she used before and Chekov feels a strong urge to hit a woman for the first time in his life.  He says nothing though, just continues to watch. 

 

 

“He’s not a puppy dog and I’ve asked you not to call him that.  And in what crazy messed up alternate universe would I be happy that my best friend is no longer talking to me?”  Sulu sounds upset and Chekov fights back a strong urge to run over and comfort him. 

 

 

“Oh, come on, Sulu.  He wasn’t your best friend.  Anyway, I thought I was doing you a favor.  Poor kid was making a fool of himself.  People were starting to talk.”

 

 

“What exactly was the favor you did me?”  Sulu’s voice is lower now and sounds rather dangerous.  Chekov can’t help but think that this is how he would sound when heroically fighting off Romulans and saving the Captain and it makes him shiver. 

 

 

“Relax.  It’s not like I did anything horrible.  The kid may have overheard me when I was discussing some concerns I had over a little boy Ensign mooning after a senior officer.  I mean, I could tell how embarrassing that was for you.  And him, of course.  As I said, he was making a total fool of himself.  Everyone knew, after all.  And it’s not like he would ever have a shot with someone like you anyway.  And I knew that you would never actually tell him to leave you alone, so, as I said, I did you a little favor.” 

 

 

She actually sounds quite proud of herself.   Sulu no longer has an expression of any sort on his face; it’s gone completely blank.  The woman standing across from him should realize that this is a bad sign, but she is clearly oblivious.  She reaches out a hand to touch Sulu, but he flicks out his arm in a lightning fast move he must have gotten from fencing and blocks it.  Wincing, she massages her wrist and looks at Sulu with a little alarm. 

 

 

“I didn’t mean to make you mad, Sulu.  He really did just happen to overhear.  I didn’t go out of my way to talk to him or anything.  And I really thought I was doing you a favor.”  She still seems unsure as to why Sulu seems so tense. 

 

 

“No more favors, Ensign Cameron.  Ever.  And you are not to speak to Ensign Chekov again unless it is directly related to the safety of the Enterprise.  Do you understand, Ensign?” 

 

 

Chekov has never heard Sulu pull rank like this, and clearly neither has Cameron.  Her eyes widen and for the first time she looks worried.  “Aye, sir.”  She says softly, with no trace of the condescending tone she had earlier.  She nods politely, still looking a bit shaken, and takes her leave.  Sulu closes his eyes, leans against the wall, and slides to the ground.  He really does look like he’s lost his best friend, and, in a twisted way, this gives Chekov enough courage to step out from behind the corner. 

 

 

He walks over and lays a hand on Sulu’s shoulder.  Sulu tenses and looks up like he’s ready to yell at someone, but pauses when he sees that it’s Chekov, a variety of emotions that Chekov can’t quite identify playing in his eyes.  Chekov slides down next to him, and they sit there in mutual silence for a while, neither quite sure what to say, neither quite sure how to mend matters between them. 

 

 

After a long while, Sulu speaks.  “I don’t know what she said, exactly, but it’s not true.  You shouldn’t listen to anything she says.  I don’t… but maybe you…” He trails off like he’s unsure what he should be saying.  “Just, it’s not true, ok?  Don’t believe that crap.” 

 

 

“Uhura says that I am your best friend.  Is this true?”  Chekov knows that his query is abrupt and thinks maybe he should master the art of segue at some point, but for now he just has to ask, even if it’s awkward sounding and he sounds like a fool.

 

 

The tips of Sulu’s ears turn red and he looks at his hands.  “I don’t know.  I mean, I thought so, yeah.”  He looks like he might say more, but Chekov interrupts.

 

 

“I did not know this.  I have never had a best friend.  But I’m very glad that you think this, actually.  I like you very much and would very much like for us to be best friends.  I am sorry, because I have been a bad friend, I think.  Please, let me have another chance to be your best friend, because I think actually that I would be a very good best friend.  I promise.  I will work very hard and make sure that I’m the best best friend you have ever had.” 

 

 

Chekov speaks quickly and earnestly, beseeching Sulu with a pleading look of wide eyed sincerity and repentance.  Sulu brightens visibly at this and gives him a familiar lopsided smile. 

 

 

“You already are a great best friend, Pavel.  You don’t have to try so hard, you know.”  He blushes and then, “and I like you wery much too, you know.” 

 

 

Chekov beams at hearing his given name from Sulu (That is ten times now.  Ten times!) and ignores the goodhearted jibe at his accent.  Sulu takes this as a sign to continue, and taking a deep breath he says,

 

 

“Yeah, so I do like you very much and I am glad that we’re friends.  Really glad that we’re friends, ok?” Sulu reaches over and grabs Chekov’s hand.  Chekov stares down at their entwined fingers in wonder and almost misses the rest of what Sulu is saying.

 

 

 “I’m glad that we’re friends, but I, myself, well, I think maybe we could be more than friends.  I mean, if you wanted, but if you don’t then that’s fine, because we can be friends regardless.  That’s good, I mean.  But maybe, it could be good too…”  Sulu is looking at him nervously and he can feel Sulu’s hand pulsing slightly in his grip. 

 

 

“Are you saying that you have feelings for me?”  Chekov boggles at him, pretty sure that his eyes are the size of saucers and his mouth is probably gaping open. 

 

 

Sulu flushes even more before nodding.  “Um, yeah, yes.”  It comes out just above a whisper. 

 

 

Chekov continues gaping for another few seconds before smiling broadly, eyes shining.  “Well, Hikaru,” He uses Sulu’s given name for the first time and makes sure to say it slowly, savoring every syllable.  He grins impishly before continuing, “I did not know this.  I have never had a boyfriend.  But I’m very glad that you think this, actually.  I like you very much and would very much like for us to be more than friends.” 

 

 

Hikaru laughs as Pavel repeats his speech from earlier, reaches over to smack him hard across the shoulder, then weaves his fingers into the curls at the nape of Pavel’s neck.  “Yeah, I’d like that too, Pavel.”  Pulling Pavel gently towards him, Hikaru presses their lips together. 

 

 

Pavel’s breath hitches as lips that he’s fantasized about for a year now finally meet his.  He wraps his arms around Hikaru’s neck and lets his mouth relax into the perfect slip slide of lips, hot and slippery and perfect.  His tongue sneaks out to lick at Hikaru’s lip, right where it had been split all those months ago when those lips had first entranced him, and Hikaru’s mouth opens.  They both gasp as their tongues touch and, for a long languid moment, it’s just the tips of tongues tentatively teasing each other, nerve endings on fire and the headiness of a long awaited first kiss washing over them. 

 

 

It overwhelms Pavel’s senses and a flush of exhilaration courses through him, curling in his belly and tingling in his toes.  He keens quietly, amazed that such a sound is coming out of him, and Hikaru groans before tightening his grasp, pulling Pavel into his lap, and crushing their lips together.

 

 

The soft sweetness is gone, replaced with fiery passion and urgency, and Pavel slides his mouth across Hikaru’s with renewed fervor, trembling under the stimulation, eager and desperate for more, more, more.  His hands are clenching in Hikaru’s hair and their quickened breaths are swallowed by each other as their lips continue to explore, to map, to conquer. 

 

 

When they finally break apart, they’re still gasping and clutching at each other, desperate to maintain contact, to assure themselves that this actually happened, is happening.  They’re both frantically searching each others eyes, needing validation. 

 

 

They see mirrored in each others eyes long months of hope and hurt, of unspoken want and unseen gestures, of friendship and love.  Hikaru’s lopsided grin is even more crooked than ever and makes Pavel’s insides twist with a new and powerful sense of longing.  He smiles, giddy with joy and fresh anticipation, and, with a breathless laugh, leans back in for more.  He has promised to be more than the best best friend ever, after all, and Pavel plans to take this new position very seriously. 

I would love to hear what you thought!