Someone to Lean On
A/N: Really it's astounding how fanfics come into existence. I'd been considering writing a Chekov/Sulu fics for ages because I find the pairing unbearably hot. I mean, it's kind of crazy how much I love this pairing… way more than any pairing in any fandom anywhere. But really, this fic's beginnings were almost absurd. First I read a fanfic in which Sulu and Chekov had a one night-stand in the Academy, and I found that incredibly sexy, so yeah, I totally borrowed that idea. I love the idea of them having a one-night stand and going off their separate ways and then meeting up again later… it's like fate or destiny or something, they're meant to be together. Actually, I love anything that involves these two in the Academy together… or anything Chulu-related in general, because I'm an obsessed little child. Anyways, so then I wrote this one scene that's in chapter - and I basically challenged myself to put these two ideas into a fanfic… and here we are. This is my first attempt at a real Chulu fanfic, only my second Star Trek fic in general, and also my first fic from any fandom that is really angsty and stuff, so please be nice in the comments when you tell me how I'm doing.
In case this wasn't obvious, this is slash, as in M/M pairing. Don't like, don't read. Rated M for multiple implied sexual encounters, male nudity, a threesome (M/OMC/OFC), vague references to masturbation, discussions of suicide, attempts at suicide, discussions of child abuse/molestation, technically some underage sex at a couple points, and a heaping helping of depression and angst. Mostly Sulu/Chekov (obviously) but a little background Kirk/Spock for flavor.
I will do my best to update this story once a week (I've found I can usually manage to crank out a chapter a week), but don't panic if I take a few extra days. I'm really enjoying the creation of this story so it won't be abandoned. Please enjoy this chapter, and reviews inspire me to update faster!
Disclaimer: I don't own Star Trek... If I did, I would absolutely make Chulu an official thing.
Chapter 1: The Morning After
Pavel Chekov woke up in an unfamiliar room, in an equally unfamiliar bed. That was his first clue. He shifted his body and felt the sheets slide against his bare skin, shivering as cool air touched his bare shoulders when the sheets slipped off. That was his second clue. The third clue was the taste in his mouth, sour with vodka, semen, and some other flavor he couldn't identify. Something just a little spicy, yet sweet at the same time.
Running his fingers through his own curly hair, Chekov considered the situation. He'd clearly gotten very drunk and hooked up with someone. Since he was in an unfamiliar room, it wasn't with his roommate Jason, which happened whenever neither of them had managed to find someone. The taste of semen in his mouth told him that he wasn't with his on-again off-again girlfriend Erica.
"Vell sheet…" he muttered under his breath, his Russian accent even thicker than normal when clouded by sleep and a very likely hangover. Now he was going to have to sneak out of this guy's room. Chekov was acutely aware that he was still a couple months shy of his 17th birthday, very much underage, and he knew that whoever he was with could react badly in the light of day, not to mention newfound sobriety.
Chekov twisted to look at the sleeping figure next to him, and he couldn't help but gasp. Lightly bronzed skin, soft-looking black hair feathered across his forehead… Apparently Chekov had managed to hook up with the most gorgeous Asian man on the planet. And then he felt himself shudder as memories rushed through him, of frantic lips and grasping hands and sweat-slicked bodies moving together. A smile crossed Chekov's face for a moment, but it faded as his head began to pound. Or maybe it had always been pounding, but it had been lost in the haze of sleepy confusion.
Rolling back over, Chekov started to push himself upright, then collapsed back into the pillow as his head spun and his stomach turned. Damn hangovers… far too much vodka last night. Thankfully not enough to black out the memories of mind-blowing sex though. His stomach heaved and a few dry coughs racked his body.
The man next to him stirred. Chekov froze, holding his breath, hoping that the other man would stay asleep. He gagged, praying he could force his legs to propel him to bathroom before emptying the contents of his stomach.
The handsome Asian stirred again, rubbing his forehead and mumbling sleepily. "Mmm… the hell… never going to party again…" he growled. Chekov stared, unable to tear his eyes away. Finally deep brown, almost black, eyes fluttered open blearily before locking onto him. "Hey… um… good morning, I guess," the man said finally.
"Uhh…" Chekov tried, wondering what the fuck the proper protocol was when dealing with a one-night-stand on the morning after. But before he'd made up his mind about what to say, his stomach heaved again and he clapped his hand to his mouth as he gagged again.
The Asian's brilliantly dark eyes widened. "Oh shit!" he exclaimed, nearly launching himself off the bed. He grabbed a wastebasket from somewhere near the foot of the bed and stepped quickly to Chekov's side, making it just as the first wave of vomit began leaking through the Russian teens' fingers.
Chekov had never felt so mortified in his life. Tears pricked at his eyes as he emptied the contents of his stomach. His companion, to his credit, didn't even flinch, just held the wastebasket in place and soothingly rubbed his back and urging him to get it all out of his system. After several agonizing minutes, there was nothing left to purge, and Chekov was left dry-heaving for another minute before letting his head drop. The sour scent of vodka-filled vomit had him dry-heaving again. As he coughed, he spotted his t-shirt on the floor and reached out to grab it, using the garment to wipe his hand and his mouth before finally daring to lift his head to look the other man in the eye.
"I am so sorry," he whispered, terrified of the reaction he was going to get.
The corner of the Asian's mouth twitched a little. "Am I that bad?" he asked, feebly attempting to make a joke.
Chekov's eyes widened. "Vhat? Nyet! Nyet, you are…" He paused, not knowing what to say, and feeling like 'gorgeous' and 'perfect' were a little much right now. "I… too much wodka last night… I'm so sorry…" he gasped again.
"You're sure?" the man said. Chekov nodded meekly. The man took the now-soiled t-shirt and the wastebasket and walked off, probably to dispose of them in the recycler. Chekov quickly took the opportunity to slip into the bathroom to wash his hands and rinse out his mouth. He splashed a little cold water on his face and tried to steady himself before stepping back out into the bedroom.
The Asian man was back, and wearing gray Academy sweats and a dark blue t-shirt. He was digging through his dresser drawers and not looking in Chekov's direction. Chekov quickly retrieved his underwear and pants from the floor and then sat down to put on his socks and shoes. The jeans he'd been wearing were thankfully still clean and presentable-looking, but he was minus a shirt now.
His companion finally turned to face him, though he couldn't quite seem to meet Chekov's eyes. "Here, you can wear this. You can keep it; I have a million like it." He held out a black t-shirt with the name of a local high school on it. Chekov had seen several other Academy cadets wearing similar shirts when not in classes.
"Oh… thanks… um…" He paused, racking his brains for the name of the man he'd just spent the night with and coming up empty.
The Asian closed his eyes for a half-second. "Hikaru," he said finally.
"Oh. Um… Pavel," Chekov said, suddenly feeling even more shy and awkward than before, which he hadn't realized was possible.
"Pavel…" Hikaru nodded slowly. He had the strangest expression on his face. It was almost… resigned. "Um… shit, I don't even know how to ask this… How old are you?"
Chekov winced. He'd had a feeling that this was going to come up. "Eighteen?" he tried nervously, hoping that maybe Hikaru would want to be in denial enough to not press the point. No such luck though, seeing as Hikaru's dark eyes had narrowed even more, glaring at the Russian in front of him. "Sewenteen…" he whispered. A skeptical eyebrow rose. Chekov winced again. "…In a couple more months."
Hikaru looked a little dazed at that knowledge. His fist clenched, but he took a deep breath and his face remained perfectly composed. "Okay… good to know. Um… So… Are you sure you're okay?"
"Fine. I'm fine. Too much wodka last night. Dat's all." Chekov stared up at Hikaru, willing him to look him in the eye. When he actually did, Chekov grinned one of his patented sweet adorable grins that always seemed to make people around him melt. It seemed to work on Hikaru too since he actually got a half-smile out of the serious-looking man. "My head doesn't feel right though," Chekov admitted.
"I thought as much," Hikaru agreed. "You want me to make sure you get back to your room okay?"
"Nyet, you don't haff to!" Chekov exclaimed. "I haff… I haff been enough of a problem for you already dis morning." He stood up too quickly, and swayed on the spot. Hikaru caught him easily.
"Is that your final answer?" he asked. Chekov knew he was blushing as he stared down at the carpet.
The walk to Chekov's dorm room seemed to take an eternity as he leaned against Hikaru, but he found that he didn't really mind. After getting over the initial humiliation, he found he didn't want to leave behind the comfort of the other man's arm or that lovely sweet scent that surrounded him… But they were at his room and Chekov was fumbling for the access code when the door opened and he was greeted by his roommate.
Jason was a true California surfer-boy type with white-blonde hair and ocean-blue eyes that were normally sparking with laughter, but right now he took one look at the sight in front of him and practically dragged Chekov into the room. "Dude, where the hell have you been? Who's this?"
"I'm nobody. See you around, Pavel," Hikaru said, and then he was gone.
"What the fuck, Pav?" Jason exclaimed.
Chekov blinked. He knew he probably owed Jason an explanation, but all he wanted to do was fall into bed and sleep for the rest of the day, or at least until this headache went away.
"Haven't I told you a thousand times? You don't just hang out in the morning! You get outta there, man! You don't let them bring you home!" Jason was saying.
Chekov nodded absently as he staggered into bed. His head hit the pillow and he was soon asleep, trading in Jason's lecture for visions of Hikaru's beautiful bronzed muscular body.
Hikaru Sulu's first thought when he woke up that morning was to help the young man in his bed before he got sick all over Sulu's bedroom. But the second thought as he comforted the distressed youngster was to slowly realize how very VERY young the man really was. He'd felt the bottom slowly drop out of his stomach as the young man looked up at him. This wasn't a man, this was a BOY… barely out of childhood by the look of things. So pale, with bright red spots on his cheek from the exertion of emptying his stomach. Sulu thanked the deities for his own strong stomach that didn't instantly try to empty itself when the sickly-alcoholic smell reached his nostrils.
The boy had the most enchanting dark brown curls Sulu had ever seen and he had surprisingly vivid memories of running his fingers through those curls all night, pulling on them in the heat of passion, getting his fingers tangled in their softness. It nearly made him hard again, but thankfully the teen was too sick and embarrassed to notice.
When he finally did look up, Sulu's heart nearly melted as he met those insecure hazel eyes. He hated himself thoroughly now for debauching this kid, this child who shouldn't even have graduated high school yet. Sulu's lips moved almost mechanically as he tried to gauge how the kid was feeling, and also tried to pretend he wasn't still absolutely mesmerized. And the kid's Russian accent… devastatingly adorable. Sulu wasn't even the slightest bit surprised when the kid explained that he'd been drinking vodka. Of course he had. He was Russian. Did they drink anything else over there?
Sulu had to get out of the room, so he hurried out into the kitchen of his apartment to get rid of the vomit-filled wastebasket and stained shirt in the recycler. Once out of the bedroom, he attempted to gather his shattered composure.
Sulu was never going to a party again! Ever! He normally avoided those types of gatherings, but a couple of fellow TA's had decided to drag him along to this one, and he had gone because it had seemed like a half-decent way to kill a night. And that one guy had been there… Daniel, or David, or Darryl, or whatever the hell that guy's name was… This guy had been trying to get into Sulu's pants for the last three years and had been plying him with drinks all night. And Sulu had been half-convinced that maybe giving Daniel-David-Darryl a chance was a good idea when they'd gone out on the dance floor and it had been so crowded out there and so confusing with all the gyrating bodies and flashing lights… and somehow he'd lost track of Daniel-David-Darryl and wound up grinding against this skinny curly-haired young man. And the younger man was very drunk and waving around a vodka bottle and actually kissed Sulu right on the lips! Right there on the dance floor! It had been as intoxicating as if Sulu had drunk right from the vodka bottle. And it hadn't even occurred to him to notice just how damn young that kid was because he was at a Starfleet Academy party and the kid was wasted on vodka and who expects a teenager to be at a party like that anyways? And so they'd danced for a while longer and then they'd gone straight to Sulu's apartment and locked themselves in his bedroom, and… well! It had been a fantastic night right up until all that alcohol wore off and Sulu regained his sanity.
Shaking himself out of his reverie, Sulu walked quickly back into his bedroom and found it empty. The sound of running water from the bathroom answered that question, and Sulu quickly pulled on sweatpants and a t-shirt and tried to figure out exactly what he was going to do about this situation.
Before he'd really had time to collect his thoughts, the kid emerged from the bathroom again, looking way too sexy and adorable to even exist. Sulu quickly looked down at the dresser, suddenly remembering that the kid's shirt had been thrown out. Finding a suitably generic shirt for the kid, Sulu gathered up his courage and turned around to find the teenager staring shyly up at him with those heart-stopping hazel eyes. Sulu had to look away. He could not afford to find this kid attractive anymore, he just couldn't… "Here, you can wear this. You can keep it, I have a million like it," he said quickly, hoping it didn't sound like he was babbling or terrified or upset…
"Oh… thanks… um…" The kid looked suddenly tongue-tied. And then it hit Sulu. They'd never actually introduced themselves at any point during the grinding on the dance floor, or after that kiss, or on their way to his apartment, or… He was going to stop thinking about this now.
"Hikaru," he said.
"Oh. Um… Pavel," the teenager replied. His cheeks reddened even more. It was clear he'd never experienced anything remotely like this awkward morning after and Sulu felt even more disgusting than before. This kid was way too innocent. Never mind that he'd been drinking and dancing at a wild house party, this was a whole different level.
"Pavel…." Hikaru paused. Fuck, he was just going to ask. Maybe he was just tormenting himself, but he had to know how badly he had fucked up last night. "Um… shit, I don't even know how to ask this… How old are you?"
The teenager winced. He seemed to understand exactly where Sulu's thoughts were at. "Eighteen?" he suggested meekly. Sulu grimaced. He would not allow his feelings to be spared right now, and he tried to communicate that using only his eyes. He must have been successful because Pavel blushed. "Sewenteen…" he whispered. Sulu couldn't help but raise an eyebrow, because really? And sure enough, the kid winced again. "…In a couple more months."
Sixteen. Motherfucker. He'd seduced a sixteen-year-old. Fucking really? Sulu realized he'd been clenching his fist and he quickly relaxed it. "Okay… good to know. Um… So… Are you sure you're okay?" He was operating almost on autopilot again. He needed to get this kid the hell out of here and never think about him again.
Sulu realized that Pavel had been speaking again and quickly looked at him, trying to pretend he'd been listening. When he met those beautiful hazel eyes, the boy grinned. It was so sweet and adorable, Sulu couldn't help but return the smile even though part of him wanted to go off and commit hara-kiri for defiling something that adorable and innocent. ""My head doesn't feel right though," Pavel was saying.
"I thought as much," Sulu quickly agreed. "You want me to make sure you get back to your room okay?"
"Nyet, you don't haff to!" And Pavel actually sounded shocked that Sulu would suggest such a thing. "I haff… I haff been enough of a problem for you already this morning." He jumped to his feet, looking like he might bolt right out of the apartment, but then he swayed and would have fallen over if Sulu hadn't stepped forward and caught him.
"Is that your final answer?" Sulu asked wryly, and he was rewarded by Pavel's cheeks seeming to catch fire again, and he really couldn't decide whether to ruffle his hair or pin him down to the bed again. But that was a VERY dangerous line of thought, especially since he now knew the kid's true age, and soon they were walking through the hallways towards Pavel's room. Sulu was a little embarrassed about walking through the halls at this hour with someone who was clearly feeling the effects of a night of excess, but he ignored it and concentrated on helping the young Russian.
When they reached the boy's dorm, the door opened almost at once. A handsome blonde whose blue-eyes were slightly bloodshot from lack of sleep stood in the doorway. He grabbed Pavel, and Sulu could have sworn he felt the boy grab slightly at his t-shirt before they were yanked apart and Pavel stumbled into his own room.
"Dude, where the hell have you been? Who's this?" the blonde exclaimed angrily. Sulu couldn't tell if this guy was a boyfriend or just a really freaked-out roommate, but he decided at once that he wanted no part in whatever might follow.
"I'm nobody. See you around, Pavel," Sulu said quickly, and he practically bolted off down the hall, trying desperately to banish the memory of those giant hazel eyes that had been practically pleading with him to stay. He hurried off to his apartment and stumbled into the shower, trying to wash away the previous night's excesses. But not matter how much he scrubbed; he couldn't get rid of the smell of Pavel's skin, the feel of those silky-soft curls, and the taste of vodka from their first sloppy kiss on the dance floor of a house party.