fairhearing: (the final frontier)
[personal profile] fairhearing
Title: Double-Check
Author: Fair Hearing
Pairing: Sulu/Chekov
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Explicit sex. Prostate massage. Toys. Fluff?
Kink request: "Um. Milking. Like really focusing on Sulu wanting to make Chekov come and drink it all up. (Extra really-nervous Chekov's first time doing anything that kinky would be so good.)"
Notes: BOY is this ever porn.

"Okay?" Sulu keeps asking him, from before they even start, and "yeah," he keeps replying, because he wants Sulu to keep asking and he wants to be able to keep telling the truth.

So far it's like it's always been, with Sulu knowing what will make him feel good before even Chekov does -- the lighting set to "candle" and everything looking dim and ruby-tinted and safe; the room warmer than usual, making him forget to tremble; Sulu's warm broad hands petting over and over again down the dip of his back to the crack of his ass, melting him slowly into the bed -- but Chekov's never done anything like this before, nothing beyond oral sex and some brief fingering, and he's not at all sure that it might not suddenly go wrong, painful and scary and not right. He's being as careful as Sulu is, breathing slow and steady, listening to his body for any signs of trouble, trying to remain focused when Sulu cups Chekov's balls in his palm.

"Okay?" Sulu asks, squeezing gently.

"Yeah," Chekov says, breathing into his folded arms.

Sulu strokes him with one hand, making his brain get fuzzier and fuzzier, while with the other he begins to slowly circle one slick finger around the tight opening of his ass. Yeah, it's okay, definitely okay; Chekov lifts his head a little, just to let his lips part completely, as the tingles in his stomach get warm and his cock gets hard.

When Sulu does push in, he does it as part of the spiraling path his finger has traced, just a tighter circle, and Chekov doesn't even realize he's been penetrated until Sulu pauses for a moment and Chekov gasps.



The moment of clenching pain he'd expected never comes, or maybe it already did and he didn't notice it. He's breathing into his arms steadily with every inch of Sulu's deeper penetration, until the image of what Sulu's actually doing back there enters Chekov's mind and he feels like his face has caught on fire. He bites his lip and tries to bury his face further into the bed, letting out a stuttery moan despite himself, and he's afraid Sulu will stop abruptly again.

"How does that feel?" Sulu says instead, still moving his finger in a slow infinitesimal circle inside him; that means all Chekov has to do is answer the truth.

"Good," he whispers.


"Yeah. I -- are you --"

Sulu doesn't press him to finish, just listens, still moving both his hands on Chekov, making everything feel so good.

"Do you like this, Hikaru?" he finally manages, a little shakily, and instantly wishes he could hide his face even more completely, from everyone, from himself.

He feels Sulu let out a warm breath, then a soft chuckle.

"Yes." His voice is deeper than Chekov's ever heard it. "It's. I can feel you, getting hard" -- he squeezes Chekov's cock -- "and the sounds you make, God, Pavel, I just want to drink you all down."

Chekov lets out a whimper. When Sulu says this kind of thing, everything inside him jumps and trembles and his mind blanks out.

"Yeah -- okay, please," he says, forgetting which word will get him what he wants, which is more, which is what Sulu said he wanted to do to him tonight. Drink him down. "It's okay, I want -- to do it, now."


"Yeah," he says a little desperately.

"Okay," says Sulu, his voice so deep now that it seems to resound in his hands, the one inside Chekov, the one around his cock. He withdraws both of them slowly, making Chekov pant hard, and there's a soft slosh of water, the click of a bottle opening -- Sulu had the lube in a basin of hot water to warm it up -- and suddenly, even though this was the part Chekov was the most nervous about, he feels so relaxed and safe that he's not scared at all.

Okay? Yeah, yes, please, please.

The dildo feels strange, slowly sliding in, and it's almost enough to break the spell; Chekov's eyes open, widen. He doesn't forget to breathe, but his breaths do stutter, even with Sulu rubbing slow down his back to his thighs. Sulu finds what he's looking for and holds still before Chekov recognizes it himself; the intensity of the sensation takes a moment to fully process, and then he's breathing harshly, trying not to hyperventilate. He doesn't know where the feeling falls between overwhelming and unbearable.

"Baby?" Sulu murmurs then.

Chekov swallows.

"I," he whispers. "Is okay."

It's the first time he's not sure. Maybe Sulu knows it, or maybe he doesn't even realize he's speaking aloud when he whispers, "you're doing so good," stroking him, and Chekov's mind blanks again; when he gets back he knows how it feels.

"Good, yeah," he says, closing his eyes, "yeah."

Sulu presses down, just a little.

"Ahh," Chekov says, clutching the sheets in his fists.

Sulu brings his hand down to squeeze and stroke Chekov's cock again, from behind, through his legs. Chekov's so hard, but more than that, he feels so full now, full of come to give to Sulu. The thought makes him cry out, the pressure inside him and on him suddenly so much that he's about to burst.

At that Sulu stops, but before Chekov can choke out a plea Sulu takes him by shoulder and hip and turns him over, the dildo still so deep inside him. Chekov gasps, mostly at the shock of seeing Sulu staring at him, and immediately covers his face with his hands, the heat of his cheeks burning through his palms, the embarrassment -- but then Sulu's back between his legs, spreading his knees wide open before he begins to jack his cock.


It's a ridiculous sound, a scream he mostly managed to hold in. Chekov arches his chest out toward the ceiling and pants between his fingers, his breaths so loud and harsh that each one's almost a cry itself. He can't stop it, he looks down at Sulu, holding the dildo firm inside him and jacking him so hard and fast, perfect; Sulu's lips are parted around Chekov's cockhead and he's staring up at Chekov as he pants.

"Come on," Sulu says. "Come on. I want it. Please."

He sounds so desperate, that's all it's going to take, up and up and Chekov explodes into orgasm, crying out and arching and keening like he's never done in his life. His ass lifts off the bed with it, and Sulu's got his lips sealed so far down around Chekov's cock, swallowing fast and moaning with every pulse and every one of Chekov's wails.

But it doesn't stop; Chekov keeps coming, through the bucking of his hips, through the desperate jerking, until he's gone quiet and he's still spilling slow down Sulu's throat, staring up at the ceiling as he feels Sulu suck and swallow. And it's not too much, not like being drained. It's like being drawn.

"Oh," is all he can say, in a whisper.

When it's over, Sulu slides the dildo out so slowly that Chekov only really feels when it leaves him, a little wet sound and a brief coolness. Sulu, his eyes closed, keeps his mouth on him the whole time, tonguing Chekov's soft cock all over in long stripes, very gentle. He places a kiss against Chekov's inner thigh when he's finished and opens his eyes, smiling when he sees Chekov watching him.

Chekov's speechless, so free and floating he can hardly keep his eyes open as Sulu nuzzles his way up his body to the pillows, where he pulls Chekov close, strokes his hair.

"Yeah," Chekov whispers against him, to every question.
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