His roommate was a second-year cadet. That was fairly normal. Starfleet tried to pair new cadets with more senior ones, to give them someone who could show them the ropes.

His roommate was four years younger than him. That was…more than a little weird.

Cadet Chekov was clearly a genius, he knew within moments. He was a nice genius, but that changed nothing. He treated calculus like breathing. He already knew more about the stars than the navigator classes covered in four years.

Hikaru was a little off-balance around the kid. There was this big-brother instinct that made him want to protect his younger roommate. There was the military instinct to respect his senior. There was academic admiration.

For the most part, Hikaru settled on being nice, approachable, and helpful. It paid off.

"Cadet Sulu," Chekov grinned, holding up a bottle. "Would you like to share a gift from my homeland with me?"

"Is that – vodka?" Hikaru blinked. "I mean, isn't that contraband?"

Chekov's grin widened. "Technically, yes. But this rule is hardly enforced – if it was, half the Academy would be on probation most of the time."

Hikaru thought about it for less than half a second. "Just the two of us for the whole bottle?"

"Yes, but it is not so bad as you Americans always think. I will teach you how to drink properly."

Somewhat bemused, Sulu sat at the table when Chekov directed him to. Glasses – really nice glasses – were set out, as well as steaming piles of totally unidentifiable food. Chekov happily named the dishes in Russian, and explained that vodka was never meant to be drunk without food, and the mere idea of doing so was sacrilege.

The food ("not as good as my Mama's, of course") was…not something Hikaru would have picked for a meal. There was little spice to it, and it was mostly starches. Still, it complemented the vodka quite well, and as he got drunker, the taste improved…or he stopped caring.

They were a quarter into the bottle when he put the pieces together. Chekov was homesick. Somewhere at the halfway mark of the bottle, he realized he was Chekov's only friend. There was a finger or two left when Hikaru figured out Chekov may not have been his only friend, but he was certainly the best one.