Family
Part One
"What would you think..." Pavel asked slowly, turning his head one way and then the other, regarding his reflection with a solemn, critical gaze. "...if I asked the barber to cut off my curls and tried to grow my hair straight?"
Greg's laugh registered under the higher whine of the sonic shower. "I think there'd be a shipwide revolt and the poor guy would get jumped in revenge."
Pavel glanced at the closed shower door. "I refuse to believe that anyone on this ship has any emotion vested in whether or not my hair curls."
"Okay, genius. Whatever."
"But what would you think?"
"Depends." The shower shut off, and Greg's broad shadow moved behind the frosted door. "Why are you thinking about it?"
"I think it makes me look young." Pavel regarded himself again.
The door opened and Greg's face appeared around the doorway, finding Pavel and eying him dubiously. "Hate to break it to you, Pasha, but..."
"I am young. I know." He sighed, but couldn't keep his eyes on his own reflection as Greg came through the shower door and approached behind him, naked and clean and grinning.
"I don't think anything you do to your hair's gonna change that," Greg agreed.
"People keep ruffling it," Pavel complained softly, a sincere gripe but probably unconvincing at that moment, when Greg stepped up behind him and slipped his arms through Pavel's and dropped his chin on Pavel's hair, studying his reflection.
"Aww, like who? Anyone I can kill for ya?"
It was hard to seem put out by anything with all that solid warmth behind him, against him. Pavel smiled despite himself.
"My hero. But no. Kirk is the worst of the group, and I don't want to have to visit you in prison. Though I would, of course." He leaned into Greg's chest, watching him through the glass.
Greg grinned, that little shy, pleased grin Pavel adored being the cause of. "And I'd love you if you shaved your head bald and dyed it purple. So that's what I think."
Pavel giggled at himself in the glass, trying to picture it for a moment.
"But here's what else I think," Greg went on, slipping his hand up to comb through those offending curls. "I think Kirk ruffles your hair like he thinks you're a kid, but he also turns to you over and over again when shit goes down and says Chekov, save the ship, and that means he doesn't see you like a kid at all. Means he trusts you with his ship and everybody on it." He smiled at Pavel through the mirror. "So maybe you could give him a little hair-ruffling now and then. Like a present."
Pavel sighed, trying to sound put out by the whole thing, but he couldn't make his smile fade enough to really seem genuine.
"Now I got a question for you," Greg said, slipping his hand down under Pavel's shirt and laying his shower-warm palm flat against his stomach.
Pavel shivered. "Mmm?"
"Why the fuck do you always get dressed so fast?"
Pavel grinned, flushing. He leaned back against Greg's chest, laying his hand over his shirt to encourage Greg's hand. "I don't want to seem easy," he said through a laugh that was mostly breath.
Greg raised his eyebrows at Pavel through the mirror. "You calling me a slut?"
The idea made Pavel laugh harder, and after a moment Greg's grin returned. He buried it, though, leaning his head down and burying his mouth against Pavel's throat and shoulder.
Pavel's laugh faded. He watched the reflection for a moment, watched Greg's mouth against his throat, watched his own face color pink.
"We have to work," he protested, without the slightest bit of conviction.
He couldn't really argue this. There was something so unbelievably nice about it. Something about even standing there in the bathroom getting ready for a shift while Greg showered right behind him.
Maybe the couple of weeks they'd been fighting were still too close in his memory, but Pavel found himself appreciating the value of moments like that.
Because it meant he wasn't alone. It meant that even something like waking up, showering, dressing, was a shared experience. It meant that awkward, alienated genius Pavel Chekov was so comfortable with another person that the only strange thing would have been getting ready without Greg moving around behind him.
He let his head fall back, curling one hand around the edge of the counter. "Grischa..."
Greg murmured against his throat, a few unintelligible words. Then he pulled back enough to meet Pavel's eyes through the glass.
"See, you say you want me to stop. But then you call me that name, which you know really really makes me want to never fucking stop. Ever."
Pavel met that glittering gaze, and leaned back against him silently. They had time.
The hand on Pavel's stomach slipped down, fingers slipping under the waistband of his uniform slacks and just trailing there.
Pavel made an encouraging noise, his skin wakening under Greg's touch. His cock was already stirring, already showing its approval of Pavel's irresponsible choices.
Greg slipped his other hand around Pavel's waist, unfastening his uniform pants, pushing them down just enough. His hand slipped inside, finding his stirring erection and grasping with a firm fist.
"Mmm." Pavel leaned his head back against Greg's shoulder, eyes fluttering closed as warmth stole over him. "We have to hurry."
Greg hummed. "Something tells me your job'd be safe if you were late once," he murmured into Pavel's skin as he nuzzled his throat. His grip stayed firm and unmoving around Pavel's erection.
Pavel laughed breathlessly. "Maybe, but if I don't have time to...mmm, to wash up, and the captain realizes what we were up to..."
Greg nipped at his throat, chuckling. "Think you gave away that secret a while back, Pasha."
Pavel wriggled against him, hungry for movement, for friction. "But I don't want to give him ammunition for more horrible innuendo."
"Okay, tell you what..." Greg spoke against his skin between nips of his teeth. "You wanna be on time? Better come fast."
Pavel found himself being turned. His back pressed against the edge of the counter top he'd been standing over, and suddenly Greg was on his knees on the floor right in front of him.
And just as suddenly Pavel's erection was pulled from his pants and Greg was right there to greet it.
Pavel made a wild sound, like an 'oh' of surprise that got stuck in his throat and came out a strangled mess. His head fell back, hands clinging to the sides of the counter top as Greg took him into his mouth.
Greg's mouth was hot, his lips pulled tight around Pavel's cock. His hands came up, broad and solid around Pavel's hips to hold him right where he was.
Pleasure was a hot gush of blood in his veins, sharp and unstoppable. Pavel's legs sagged but Greg held him, never slowing his fierce, enthusiastic suction.
The first few times they had done this had been nervous experiments – Greg was Pavel's first time with anyone, and Pavel was the first male Greg was with in any real way (Pavel refused to acknowledge whatever nameless cretin had gotten his hands on Greg first). Pavel had feared having to break through some sort of macho taboo Greg might have had about having another man's cock in his mouth.
But Greg had surprised him, as he so often did. He had been unsure at first, but never less than enthusiastic to learn. He really seemed to love giving Pavel so much pleasure, didn't seem to think there was a single negative about being on his knees in front of his Pasha.
And God, just that knowledge, just knowing that Greg cared about absolutely nothing so much as pleasing him, made Pavel feel like a king. A man.
Greg's mouth worked him, hard and fast, until Pavel was nearly hitting the mirror with every arch of his hips. Pavel heard himself making sounds, hoarse, half-formed growls and pleas.
He would spend his entire shift wanting to feel Greg inside of him. He would blush too readily with Hikaru, smile too broadly, get lost in his own thoughts. It really was an awful idea, doing this before a shift.
He reached down, grasping Greg's shoulder and squeezing.
Greg growled in protest, slipping off Pavel's cock but slowly, his tongue flickering one last goodbye against the tip.
Pavel shuddered, fighting for breath. His cock ached, full and hard and pointing directly at Greg as if his body itself was protesting his decision.
They did have a good hour almost before they actually had to be at their stations.
Pavel slipped away from the counter, sinking to his knees in front of Greg. "No fair you get to do all the touching," he said, his accent thick in his throat.
Greg's gaze was hot, intent, and he leaned in without a word and drove their mouths together.
Pavel could taste hints of himself on Greg's mouth. It made his body ache that much more, made his lips part wantonly and his tongue twine with Greg's in clumsy eagerness.
Greg's arm circled his back and pulled him closer until their erections slipped against each other. Their mouths broke apart and they groaned, different registers but same meaning.
Pavel reached blindly between them, finding Greg's cock and wrapping his fingers around the girth of it. Greg took the hint fast and wrapped his own hand around Pavel's.
They kissed, messy and clumsy, as they stroked each other. Pavel fought to hold himself back, to catch Greg up to him so they could come together. But his body was tired of listening to him, and in just a few frantic minutes he was seizing, his back arching into Greg's touch as he pulsed into his hand. His own fingers clenched around Greg, trying not to let him go.
Before he could relax from the shaking pleasure Greg was growling against his mouth and pumping into his hand until he added to the messy wetness between them.
Pavel worked him gently through his orgasm, and their mouths met again before they could catch their breath.
"Now I have to change," Pavel murmured finally against Greg's mouth.
Greg laughed, the engine-revving rumble his voice fell into after he came. "Gotta take another shower," he put in, his arm curling around Pavel's back and holding him close. "Wanna join me?"
Pavel pulled away to look at him, trying to be solemn. "Do you promise to behave yourself?"
Greg's eyes glittered, warm and brown. "Me? You started it."
"I did not!" Pavel laughed into Greg's chest, not quite ready to pull away and stand up yet. He slipped his hand down Greg's chest, the familiar broad planes and hard angles. He loved touching him, loved this firm, strong body against him, under his hands. "You're the one accosting me about wearing clothes."
"Yeah, but you gotta see things my way," Greg reasoned, stroking Pavel's hair with his clean hand. "I've gotta deal with you standing there being fucking gorgeous, and talking about your hair even though I know you'd never cut it, and being all...you. And everything." He pressed a kiss against Pavel's hair. "Takes a stronger man than me to resist you, Pasha."
"I doubt there is a stronger man than you," Pavel replied before he could even think. The words made him blush, and he wondered if Greg could feel the heat against his chest.
"Come on," Greg said a moment later, and when Pavel lifted his eyes he saw the pink coating his cheeks.
They stood up clumsily on unsteady legs, and traded equally clumsy kisses as Pavel stripped his uniform off.
To Pavel's disappointment, Greg behaved himself in the shower. And when Pavel stood at the mirror once again, battling his curls into some dignified form of submission, Greg simply left him to the bathroom and went to dress in the bedroom.
"The one time he listens to me," Pavel grumbled to himself, though he couldn't erase his smile as he looked as his flushing, happy reflection. He supposed there were only so many times in one morning a man could hope to be jumped by his lover.
He heard the chime of the door distantly, and sighed to himself to think of the day intruding finally. He checked the seams of his uniform, and felt a little less like a boy playing dress-up than normal as he left the bathroom behind.
He stopped in the doorway to the bedroom.
The captain and McCoy were both there, standing in the front room with Greg. Greg held a padd like he'd been reading something, and he looked...
Pavel was at his side in a flash, instantly scared by the paleness of Greg's face. "What? What's happened?"
Neither of the visitors spoke, but Greg held the padd out without hesitation. "Marcus. My brother," he got out, his voice strangely choked.
Pavel took the padd and only glanced long enough to see the words 'regret to inform you', and his focus was instantly back on Greg. "Oh. Grischa..."
Greg looked away from him, turning to Kirk and McCoy and squaring his shoulders.
"I'm sorry, Harris." Kirk seemed sincerely regretful. "You let me know when you can be ready. I'm already getting your transport arranged."
"Meantime," McCoy put in, "my office door is always open if you need to talk to someone." His eyes flickered to Pavel. "Officially, I mean. Not easy losing family when you're stuck on a starship, and I've helped work a couple of guys through it before."
Pavel slipped his arm around Greg's waist, his support more quiet but at least as sincere.
Greg blinked after a moment, shaking his head like he was coming out of a fog. "Transport?" He looked at Kirk.
Kirk nodded. "To earth. There are..." He faltered, glancing at McCoy. "Er, there are details included in that message, but it looks like the funeral is still a few days off, and I think we can get you there in time."
"No."
Pavel frowned up at Greg.
Greg hesitated, looking at the padd Pavel still held. "No, sir. Thank you, but...I'm not about to drop everything here. I got a job to do."
Kirk blinked. "I appreciate your devotion to duty, Greg, but Starfleet policy in these cases is to-"
"Thank you, Captain. Doctor." Greg stood straighter suddenly, and though he didn't move to brush Pavel off something about his bearing made Pavel slip his arm free and give him some space.
"I don't need transport, sir. I've got a job to do and I'd rather do it. And since my shift starts in like five minutes..."
He moved between the captain and the doctor and headed out the door without a look back, even at Pavel.
"Huh." McCoy spoke as the three of them that were left behind regarded the closed door. "That either went well or really badly."
Kirk frowned back at him. "I'm leaning towards 'badly'. You think it's really his job he's worried about?"
Pavel found their eyes going to him, and he looked down at the padd uncertainly.
He knew that Greg's relationship with his family on earth was strained at best. Greg didn't speak about it often, and hadn't mentioned them at all since their school days. It was as if the further he got from his childhood the less he wanted to bring it with him.
The impression Pavel got was that they were closed-minded and cruel, at least to Greg. But Greg had only ever spoken of his father specifically, when he explained to Pavel why he didn't return home during holidays like most other students.
Pavel didn't tell any of this to Kirk or McCoy, of course, but after they left he put the padd with the message from Earth on the table in the living room, and made a promise to himself to talk about it with Greg that night.
Kirk spent a good hour of the alpha shift in the boardroom off the bridge, talking with someone from Starfleet headquarters. But he didn't say a word to Pavel, or to anyone, about what it was about. Just came out of the meeting with a big, self-satisfied Kirk smile on his face, and got on the comm the moment he was back at his chair.
"Attention, crew of the Enterprise. This is your captain." He flashed a grin around the bridge (he usually liked to throw a look at Uhura whenever he spoke his own title, though Pavel wasn't sure why). "Got some good news for you. Our shore leave scheduled for somewhere in the Trollian Nebula in three weeks time has been canceled."
Pavel exchanged curious glances with Hikaru, who had the half-smile on his face he usually directed at Kirk. Hikaru found the captain endlessly amusing.
Kirk sat back in his chair, drawing out the announcement. "Seems we've been working extra-hard lately, and Starfleet has seen it in their hearts to reschedule our next couple of lower-priority assignments. I'm about to request the wonder twins at the helm here to change our course, and we are headed home for one solid week's leave. We should only be a day or two from earth, get with your division heads to work out details. Kirk out."
Kirk punched the comm closed and sighed happily. "I love my job."
Pavel drew in a breath, grin rising to his face unbidden. "Home?" he murmured over at Hikaru.
Hikaru beamed at him. "For that I'll even let the 'wonder twins' crack slide."
"Noble of you, Sulu. How fast can you two get us there?"
Pavel grinned and spun in his chair to start working out the course.
It wasn't until most of alpha shift had filtered through the lift as their replacements took over that Pavel grew curious about something and managed to hang back and ask Kirk in relative privacy.
"Sir, this leave, going to earth...it's not because of Greg, is it?"
Kirk just shrugged, clapping Pavel on the shoulder as they headed for the lift. "He gave me a solid moral reason to make the request. But trust me, kid, the ninety percent of the crew who come from earth need a few days on home turf almost as much as Cupcake does."
But Greg didn't think he needed it at all, it turned out.
"The fuck did he even offer me transport for if he was planning this? Why the fuck did he even let me think I had a choice?"
"Greg..." Pavel stopped, fairly sure that suggesting the leave request came after the transport offer would only be a mistake. "It's not a bad thing, is it?"
"The hell it's not."
"It isn't!" Pavel spoke intently, since watching Greg in his focused, annoyed pace was getting worrying. "You won't have to go alone, at least."
Greg's pacing stopped then. He spun to face Pavel, something flashing in his eyes. Something like panic.
"You're not coming." It wasn't a question.
Pavel hesitated, regarding him now that he was still. "I thought it would be easier for you if someone were with you."
"Fuck that. Fuck that." Greg pushed into motion again. "You go to fucking Russia or wherever, I don't even want you in the same fucking country."
Pavel sat down, slowly, on the small couch. "Perhaps you'll tell me why I shouldn't be hurt by that."
"Pasha." Greg growled, but he glanced at Pavel and his steps slowed. Whatever he saw in Pavel's face made him swallow. He hesitated, but moved to the couch and sat heavily beside Pavel.
"It's not you."
Pavel studied him, wanting to curl into him and force Greg's arms around him until that tight line of his spine relaxed, and his face grew less hard.
He spoke hesitantly in the pause. "I know you don't get along with your family, Greg."
Greg snorted. He leaned in and picked up the padd Kirk had brought to the room that morning. He didn't call the screen up, just looked at it, broad fingers toying with it.
"There's not a single thing in my life they haven't fucked up." He spoke flatly, but Pavel heard the emotion under the mask. "Even...even Starfleet. They ruined that before I put the fucking uniform on. Everything about me's got their stink all over it, Pasha." He drew in a breath. "Everything except you. I mean, I got some shit for being queer, but...but they don't know you. They can't ruin you."
Pavel frowned, studying Greg's profile. "You wouldn't have ever taken me to..."
"No!" The answer was sharp, like Greg was shocked, and worried that Pavel had even thought such a thing. "Jesus, Pasha, I never wanted to go back there even by myself. I'm not...they're not my fucking family anymore. They made that clear years ago."
"But you will go to the funeral."
"Yeah." Greg scowled. "I wouldn't've left the ship, but now the fucking ship's dropping me off. It's not right to not go if I'm there. But..." He scoffed, and it sounded shaky. "I'm not staying for seven fucking days."
"Do you..." Pavel frowned.
Greg stared ahead of him as if he didn't even hear.
It was a touchy subject for Pavel, and he considered that before he spoke. He had to reason it out, to tell himself it didn't mean to Greg what it meant to him. That Greg didn't realize what it meant that he would never be taking Pavel to meet his family.
Greg didn't regard family as Pavel did. Greg had no way of knowing how deep Pavel's offer to go with Greg sprang from, and no way of knowing how badly his absolute refusal could have hurt.
He had no idea how important Pavel's next words were. Pavel just had to remember that, and not overreact to his answer.
"You could spend some time with me. With my family."
Greg looked at him then, eyes focusing like he'd been somewhere inside his own head. "What?"
Pavel reached out for that padd Greg held. He had gone through it after shift, briefly, assuming that Greg wouldn't mind since he had handed it over to Pavel that morning.
Greg's brother wasn't buried yet because there was some sort of investigation. Some man was in trouble for his death. The details were sketchy, but Pavel thought it seemed like a pretty mutual fight that had just gone one step too far.
Greg hadn't seemed surprised by any of it when he read it earlier.
He fidgeted with the padd to give him something to look at. "After the funeral. You don't want to stay with them, and...there would be nothing to do on the ship, or...I suppose you could stay in San Francisco and...and just relax. But. If you wanted. I want to see my papa and my home, and you could join me there. If you wanted."
"Join you? And...meet your dad?"
Pavel nodded at the padd.
Greg was quiet for a moment. "You don't...uh. You don't think he'll hate me?"
"Hate you?" Pavel blinked over, and he relaxed at the surprise in Greg's face. Maybe Greg did realize, to a point, how important this offer was. Even if he didn't regard his family the same way.
Greg shrugged. "Because I'm a guy, and I'm not some scientist, or...Russian, or anything."
Pavel braved a small smile. "It won't be a surprise to him," he said. "He knows almost as much about you as I do. Disregarding certain areas of information, of course."
Greg blushed, his misery softening. "You told your dad about me?"
"Once a week for a couple of years now," Pavel confirmed. "You know how often I write home."
"Yeah, but...about me?"
"About everything." Pavel slipped closer on the couch cushion, reaching for Greg's arm. "You've been the most important piece of news most weeks since we met."
Greg smiled, soft and shy. "And he doesn't hate me?"
"He loves you because I do," Pavel answered quietly.
He had longed since that morning, since seeing that stricken, pale look on Greg's face, to comfort him. He was done waiting until it felt needed. He all but crawled into Greg's side, curling up against his chest and stroking his fingers along his shift shirt.
"You should come," he said, and Greg's arms folding around him made him braver. "You will. When you've resolved things at home, I'll come meet you somewhere and bring you home. You can meet my papa and his parents, and my mother's sisters. My entire village. You can see Russia, my part of it. There's no other place in the universe like it."
Greg buried his face in Pavel's hair, shuddering under him as he held on to him tightly. "Sounds like a plan. Just don't let me fuck up too bad."
Pavel pressed a kiss against his chest, over his shirt. A silly little gesture, maybe, but it felt right. "Don't insult vodka. Or me. Papa will love you otherwise."
Greg chuckled, watery. "Can probably remember that much." The laugh twisted into something else, something broken. "God, Pasha, I don't want to...fucking Marcus. Fucking idiot."
Pavel had wanted to be there to comfort Greg, but it made his chest hurt to hear the cracks in his voice, to feel him shudder with tightly repressed, choking breaths. He didn't know what had Greg so close to tears – thinking of his brother, or thinking of having to see his remaining family.
Either way, Pavel leaned up and kissed his jaw and murmured that he was right there, that Greg wasn't alone. That even if Greg had to face them on his own, he wasn't alone for a second, and he had to remember that.
Greg didn't answer, didn't let himself make a sound. But Pavel held him until his shuddering stopped, and held him again under the covers that night, and let him go so reluctantly in the morning that he imagined his point was made.
