Title: кaчай на износ (go for the burn!)
Pairing: Chekov/Sulu
Rating: M, possibly NC-17. Sorry if it is.
Drunk Chekov. Non-partying Sulu. Aggressive, teasing, dirty-mouth, Russian-speaking Chekov. Because we all know that he is. ^^

Right... so. I've never done this before, but, then again. I'm still developing my inner perve. (Yes, we're still working in the closet... but we're slowly moving out) ^^
Right. Some of the russian words aren't quite right because my computer didn't have the right symbols. Sorry about that.

I tried to do this for the star trek kink meme on livejournal... but, it kept saying error everytime I tried to post a comment. I posted it on lj anyway, but only on my page. :)

The title means "go for the burn". It seemed appropriate at the time. Most of the Russian words are naughty... I love languages. :)

кaчай на износ! (Ka-CHAI na eez-NOHS!)

The initial intention had been a harmless drinking game, something to get their minds off of the terror the Romulans had shadowed over them – it was gone now, of course, but it had been there, and it had been the first combat many of the cadets had seen.

The Enterprise was in the shop, getting repaired for the five year mission awaiting her. The Captain – new and young and, perhaps, better than his father – and Doctor McCoy, along with several of the other more sociable crew, had gone on to celebrate the defeat, perhaps to mourn the loss of an entire planet and most of its citizens. And Spock… the Commander was probably meditating or maybe making plans to separate from Starfleet, to see to the remainder of his race.

Sulu had been invited out by the Captain, but decided it was better to decline as they had an early morning. Besides, he wasn't feeling in a particularly partying mood. He had contemplated going to the cafeteria but he rethought it after his stomach did a summersault. Sulu's quarters weren't quite barren, but his bags were packed, laying at the food of his bed; his head was on the pillow, but it didn't feel right. The ceiling didn't look right either.

Then a knock sounded on his door, opened without his command. There, where it had just been, stood the young Russian Ensign, smiling sheepishly. There was a certain reddish hue to his pale cheeks, and that's when Sulu noticed the half-finished bottle of vodka in the kid's hands. Chekov invited himself in and sat on Sulu's feet before he could move them; he didn't bother telling the kid not to get caught – regulation was probably on hold for the night, anyway.

Chekov leaned closer to him, pressing the bottle even closer into Sulu's chest. He said one word, heavy with accent, and it took Sulu a moment to register the word in English. "Drink," Chekov said again. "Drink."

Sulu pushed the bottle away. That's not what he wanted. What he wanted was illegal… and staring him right in the face like a kicked puppy.

"Please, Hikaru?" Chekov pleaded, licking his lips. "А как насчёт поцлуя? (Ah kak na-SHOT pat-se-LOO-ya?)"

Sulu didn't understand, but his eyes followed the movement. He shouldn't be thinking things like this. Before he could think more on it, however, Chekov was on his knees, one on either side of Sulu's chest, taking a deep swallow of the vodka before letting the bottle fall to the floor. In on swift movement, he had Sulu's face grasped between his hands, and lips full on pressing together into him.

Sulu was taken by surprise, and at his slight gasp, a hot, wet tongue fell into his mouth, followed by bitter liquor which he had no choice but to swallow.

Chekov arched his back as he slipped away, down Sulu's torso, licking a fiery path around his navel, and letting out the most erotic mewling noises Sulu'd ever heard. And the kid had bedroom eyes that just screamed fuck me! Sulu was having a hard time controlling himself.

He let out a harsh groan and threw away his self control as Chekov bit at him through his pants. Now he definitely wouldn't be able to hide his hardness. " "Я хочу взять у тебя в рот (Ya kha-CHOO VZYAT oo tee-BYAH froht)," he whispered harshly, his tongue running over his lips before glancing down.

There was a breath of heat as Chekov unzipped him, pulled him out. Glancing up, he noticed the kid was working at his own zipper, fumbling slightly, his mouth occupied by his fingers. Then he was kneeling, wet hand down his own pants and mouth covering Sulu's hardened length.

Chekov moaned a few times, his hips working in time to his mouth, but the vibrations from his throat made Sulu jump, made Chekov gag. But he didn't stop.

Sulu was close to the edge, was ready to come but Chekov stopped as if knowing, his hand still working in his pants, which were easily taken care of so that Chekov was completely bare, red cock hard and beckoning, twitching as Sulu watched.

"Are you sure you want this?" he asked quietly, knowing if he didn't ask now he probably wouldn't later. There was no going back.

Chekov spread his legs, pushing fingers into his entrance, fucking himself in front of Sulu, moaning his name. The kid was only seventeen, he reminded himself.

"Выеби меня (VIH-yeh-bee meen-YAH)," Chekov pleaded, repeated.

It was a tight fit, Chekov gasping and crying out at the abrupt entrance, and took a few minutes before he could rock his hips in any kind of motion, but when he could, he threw his arms around Sulu's shoulders and his legs around his hips to draw him closer, deeper.

Oh, the way he was grinding…!

"Сидьнее (Seel-NYAH-yeh)!" Chekov moaned. "Быстрее (Bih-STRAY-ye)!"

Chekov threw his head back, voice raw as Sulu's hand found his cock, bouncing in rhythm against his stomach, the pace getting faster as Sulu became more aggressive, more sensitive to the heat enveloping him. He was getting close… he could feel it, his movements becoming more choppy, jerking as he rammed as hard as he could before pulling out, white streams jetting out across Chekov's stomach.

Chekov's mouth was open, his eyes closed tight, exclaiming words Sulu didn't understand. But it was understandably sexy.

"Я сейчас кончу (Yas chas KOHN-choo)!"

Chekov arched his back, one hand enveloping Sulu's as he pressed harder, moved faster, mouth open in wanton lust. He was still uttering Sulu's name, a mantra, even after he expended himself over their joined hands.

Chekov smiled up at him, content with not moving and still sore, but he didn't mind, and neither did Sulu as he lay down beside the Russian whiz kid, moving the blanket to cover them. He'd worry about cleaning up tomorrow.

It wasn't exactly what Chekov had wanted as his first time, but it worked out well enough. In the end, he still got what he wanted.

"Я полон неожиданностей (Yah POH-lan nee-a-Zhee-da-na-stee)."