fairhearing: (the final frontier)
[personal profile] fairhearing
Title: Souvenirs
Author: Fair Hearing
Pairing: Sulu/Chekov
Rating: So very NC-17
Warnings: Language and like aggressively explicit sex
Kink request: "Some not evil but very pushy aliens force everybody who visits their planet to get their nipples pierced. Chekov is on the away mission when this happens..." but do these nipple piercings hold a mysterious secret???
Notes: For [livejournal.com profile] hollycomb WHO DESERVES SO MUCH MORE, BUT. ;_;

"Yes, I am aware of that, sir, but it still doesn't explain why Chekov was the only crew member assaulted in this way," Sulu says into his communicator, still pacing the room crisply, Chekov still watching him miserably from their bed.

Kirk huffs out an exasperated agreement and Chekov lets out another moan of misery as he buries his head under the pillows.

It's been exactly twenty-five minutes since Chekov's away team returned from a four-day-long excursion to Thamasa II. Sulu had been waiting for him in the transporter room with a little bouquet of daisies (complete with roots and soil in their polymer vase -- Sulu would never present his boyfriend with slaughtered flowers) and shifting his weight back and forth a bit in his impatience. It was the first time they'd been separated longer than overnight since they started dating, and Sulu's mouth was watering a little at the thought of what they'd get up to once they got back to their room.

But when Chekov appeared on the platform with the rest of the away team, he'd given Sulu a sort of queasy half-smile, and when Sulu rushed up to hug him he'd shrunk back in a way that had made Sulu's heart plummet through his stomach.

"No, no!" Chekov had said hastily, taking Sulu's hand and squeezing it. He brought it up to his mouth for a quick kiss before the queasy look returned. "Just -- let us go home and talk there, okay?"

He had been standing strangely, with his shoulders hunched high, and his cheeks were so pink Sulu was afraid he might have a fever. He all but ran Chekov back to their room and pleaded to hear what was wrong as the door was still sliding closed, the daisies tossed on the dresser, forgotten.

Chekov had blushed even further and slowly raised his shirt.

"Captain, we're talking about assault on a Federation officer!" Sulu exclaims now.

"Sulu, I said I agree with you," Kirk's voice says. He sounds a bit resentful. "Spock and I are trying to figure out the actual legal procedure involved in getting them to undo this. No one's ever actually brought a complaint against the Thamasans before."

"Oh, right, sure, I know. Peaceful and art-loving and pacifistic and crap, who apparently saw it fit to kidnap Chekov and pierce his fucking nipples, sir."

"Hikaru!" Chekov sits up in horror and throws a pillow at Sulu's head.

"Ow! Uh. Sorry." Sulu glances over to Chekov guiltily.

"No, I get it, Lieutenant," says Kirk's voice. "It's, um, an emotional situation. Listen, I'll let you know as soon as I find something out, okay?"

"Aye, sir," Sulu mumbles, and flips his communicator shut.

He approaches the bed cautiously. Chekov's buried his head under the pillow again, and when Sulu gently places a hand on his shoulder, he lets out a muffled moan of despair.

"Hey," says Sulu. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to embarrass you."

"Oh, it doesn't matter, it doesn't matter." Chekov emerges with his hands covering his face tragically. "I have already died of embarrassment, it cannot get any worse."

Sulu strokes the back of his fingers sympathetically.

"Do they still hurt?" he says.

Chekov uncovers his face. His eyes are still a little overbright and his cheeks still slightly pink. He keeps biting his lower lip, which is flushed almost red at this point. All of this is because of emotional turmoil and Sulu does not find any of it hot. At all.

"A little," Chekov says softly, looking into Sulu's eyes.

A leetle, Sulu repeats to himself silently. Out loud he says, gently, "Let me check them again?"

Chekov's face gets redder, making his eyes look even more green (or possibly more blue, Sulu hasn't quite figured them out yet) and his freckles stand out more. He avoids Sulu's eyes as he takes the hem of his shirt and draws it up over his chest.

Sulu swallows heavily again at the sight. Really, it almost adds insult to injury how pretty the piercings are. Subtle, tasteful barbell-style studs, of an unknown metal that Sulu first thought was silver but that actually shimmers opalescent when the light hits it, like mother-of-pearl. The two metal beads framing each of Chekov's perfect pink nipples are small and smooth and perfectly placed, unobtrusive in every way. In fact, even though Sulu would never tell him this, they serve only to make his nipples look even more mouthwatering, like garnishes to a gourmet dish.

Or they would, if they hadn't been a result of such a bizarre and traumatic experience. Sulu sighs and runs his hand gently up Chekov's trembling stomach to his breastbone, careful not to go near that tender pink skin.

"Don't worry, baby," he says. "We'll get it all fixed."

Chekov exhales heavily. Sulu can feel it through his palm, and a shiver runs down his back at the sensation.

"I know," Chekov says quietly, looking up at him, and Sulu wishes he didn't look so very good like this, sniffly and sore with his shirt rucked up adorably around his chest. "I just don't know why it had to happen at all."

"I wish I had been there," says Sulu. "I would have... well."

"I wanted you there," says Chekov softly. His hands are closing around the front of Sulu's shirt. "I missed you."

"I missed you, too," Sulu murmurs.

He leans in very carefully when he kisses Chekov, keeping well back from his still-bare chest. But when Chekov parts his lips and starts to touch their tongues together in hot, lingering presses, Sulu's mind goes a bit fuzzy. Soon he finds himself making that deep rumble in the back of his throat, and running his hand down Chekov's cheek to his collarbone to his...

Chekov lets out a choked gasp when Sulu's wrist brushes his chest.

"Oh fuck, shit, I'm an asshole, fuck." Sulu's already launched himself back, off the bed, both hands held up. He pants as he looks down at Chekov, whose hand is clapped over his mouth.

"I am such an asshole, are you okay?" says Sulu.

Chekov just stares up at him.

"Oh God, did I hurt you?"

After a few agonizing seconds, Chekov slowly lowers his hand.

"No," he says at last. "No, you did not."

"Are you sure, because I --"

"Hikaru." Chekov's not listening: he's looking down at his chest and cautiously touching his right piercing with one fingertip. "What did you do to it?"

"Uh. Do?" Sulu tries to think around the sight of Chekov fingering his own nipple, letting out an occasional soft whimper through kiss-swollen lips. "Uh. I just. Touched it."

"It felt good," says Chekov softly, looking up again.

Sulu swallows.

"Like -- not sore?" he says.

"No," says Chekov, and chews his lip. "Like... really good."


Sulu's mouth feels dry. He kneels on the bed again, watching as Chekov lightly rubs his left piercing now, wincing a little.

"Does it still feel... good?" Sulu asks.

Chekov shakes his head. "Just tender." The blush is back on his cheeks. "Hikaru, I think... can you try again?"

"What, you mean -- touch it?"

Biting his lip, Chekov nods.

Sulu swallows, and Chekov watches him as he reaches out a hand and gently touches the other piercing this time, just a soft brush with two of his fingertips.

Chekov's mouth drops open, his eyelids falling half-shut.

Taking this as an encouraging sign, Sulu circles lightly with the pads of his fingers. Instantly Chekov arches up off the bed with a breathy cry of surprise.

"Jesus," whispers Sulu.

Chekov holds Sulu's hand in place to still him, licking his lips once before he opens his eyes.

"This does not happen when I touch them," he says, sounding out-of-breath.

"No," says Sulu, intelligently. He swallows. "What does it feel like?"

"Like... you're touching all through me," Chekov says in a soft voice. He looks adorably embarrassed, and Sulu has to consciously stop himself from bending down to mouth at the flush spreading up that pale throat.

"Um, maybe it only works when someone else, you know, touches them?" he says instead.

"But I felt nothing when Dr. McCoy examined them, or Lieutenant Chapel."

"Well," says Sulu, "well, um, maybe --"



"More," whispers Chekov, coaxing Sulu's hand back over his chest, and Sulu lets out a soft, helpless moan before dipping down to kiss him.

Chekov's mouth is so wet and hot, tasting a little like the cherry candy he's addicted to but mostly like the indefinable something that's all him, and Sulu can't believe how much he missed this. He brings up his other hand to Chekov's other nipple and rubs them as he kisses him, still just light and teasing around the areolae, in the way that usually makes Chekov purr in the back of his throat; but this time, when Sulu's fingertips nudge the metal of his piercings, Chekov cries out against his lips like he's being burned.

More of that, Sulu wants more of that -- but there's all this cloth in the way. Impatiently he pulls Chekov's shirt up and off, and he slicks his fingers with two wet swipes of his tongue before he brings them back to those pert little nipples, the cool metal nubs.

Chekov lets out a guttural groan, and his flushed face is so gorgeous that Sulu has to take it between his hands and kiss it all over, cheeks and chin and mouth. But Chekov whines and pulls at his hands, desperate to have Sulu's wet fingers on him again. He rubs his bare chest against the fabric of Sulu's uniform jersey, moaning deep enough that it vibrates hard against Sulu's tongue, so deep that Sulu has to draw back for a second, breathing hard, overwhelmed.

"Hikaru," Chekov cries mindlessly, trying to pull him back. His legs are wrapped around Sulu's waist, his knees spread obscenely wide as he rubs the clothed crack of his ass against Sulu's erection. "In me, inside me" -- and Sulu's mind blanks white.

He manages to get Chekov's legs unlocked from around his waist and rips off their clothes off in seconds, flinging them to the floor. But he slows down when he's got his fingers slick with lube and he's working them between Chekov's asscheeks, into that tight heat, trying hard to ignore how much Chekov is whimpering and pulling at him in desperation.

Sulu always has to take it slow preparing Chekov -- he's always so eager, so tight -- but whatever those piercings are doing to him have him clutching around Sulu's fingers in such incredibly hot squeezes that it makes Sulu dizzy. And when Sulu finally starts to work his cock in, he has to throw his head back for a second and groan, because Chekov feels almost as tight as the first time they did this. He's making the same sounds he made that first night, too -- desperate whimpers through his nose at every one of Sulu's slow rocking inches into his body.

Finally Sulu is as deep as he can get, his balls resting tight against Chekov's ass, and he leans over him, bracing himself and breathing hard, taking a second to try to catch his breath.

"Uhh, yeah, please." Chekov is rolling his head on the pillow, sounding almost delirious. His eyes are half-closed, his hair dark with sweat against the white sheets, and he's got one hand on Sulu's side to hold him deep in place and the other stroking over his own nipples, which are now flushed so pink they look almost red. Every time he rubs one of his piercings, he gasps and moans and squeezes around Sulu's cock in tight, hot pulls.

"Ah -- fuck, baby." Sulu closes his eyes, breathing hard, trying not to lose control. But then Chekov arches his back with a moan and locks his legs around Sulu's ribs.

"Hikaru," he whispers. He's panting, soft and warm, spread all the way open for Sulu; and the two bright points of metal on his chest almost seem to glow against his nipples, the dark-flushed skin.

Sulu draws back with a growl and shoves back in, sealing his mouth over Chekov's to swallow his cries of pleasure, and closes his hands over that trembling chest before he starts to thrust. Those nipples are as hard as pebbles under Sulu's palms, smooth and yielding like satin once they're between his fingers.

"Let me taste," he mumbles over Chekov's gasping mouth.

When Sulu bows his head and starts licking, Chekov screams with his entire body, arching and bucking, clenching around Sulu's cock. Sulu teases him faster, tonguing the cool metal studs and whispering air onto his skin, and Chekov sobs, reaching down to jack his own cock furiously.

But something's come over Sulu, too. He growls against Chekov's chest and grabs his wrists, stretching them to either side and pinning them tight against the mattress.

"Hikaru!" cries Chekov, thrashing.

Chekov screams when Sulu starts fucking him hard, pounding his prostate and sucking at his piercings to the same fierce rhythm. And before Sulu can think about what he's doing, he closes his teeth gently around one quivering nipple, barely biting -- and Chekov goes completely, utterly silent.

Worry flashes for a split-second. But then Chekov's entire body spasms violently, clenching around Sulu's cock so hard that Sulu cries out in shock. His orgasm blindsides him: he throws his head back with it, shouting, and grips Chekov by the backs of his knees to keep him in place as he pumps his come into him, grinding and groaning and working his hips till he's empty.

It isn't until Sulu's panting through the aftermath, his head heavy on Chekov's shoulder, that it occurs to him that Chekov might have had a seizure or something. He jerks his head up, but there's Chekov watching him through heavy-lidded eyes, limp against the sheets and breathing so hard through his slack, swollen mouth that he sounds close to passing out.

Sulu becomes aware of a sticky wetness on his chest, dripping from his chin. He brings a hand up to wipe it away and gazes at his wet fingers in wonder.

Chekov has never, ever come without having his dick touched before. Ever.

He and Chekov stare at each other for a while in silence, breathing hard. Sulu's the first to speak.

"Holy shit, baby."

Chekov laughs breathlessly, and Sulu smoothes his fingers over his hot cheek as he pulls out with care, both of them moaning a little at the friction. Afterward Sulu leans back on his elbow, stroking a hand down Chekov's side. Those pierced nipples are still flushed red, still wet and shiny from Sulu's tongue, and Sulu touches one of them very gently, in awe.

"What did they put in these things?" he says, listening to Chekov's breath hitch as he strokes him softly with his thumb, sweat cooling on their skin.

"Hikaru," says Chekov, looking so small and soft that Sulu draws the blanket up over them and pulls him close. "I did not tell you before," he continues, against Sulu's chest.

"Tell me what?"

"It is why I didn't want to bother the captain about this." He looks embarrassed. "At the dinner, on Thamasa, I was the only one to drink their special wine, from the dandelions, you know. And, um, I was talking a lot. About you."

"Yeah?" says Sulu with a grin. "What were you saying?"

"Hikaru." Chekov hides his face against Sulu's shoulder.

Sulu has a pretty good idea of what he was saying, actually. Gaila has teased Chekov in the past for having "a huge crush on his own boyfriend," and even before they started dating, Sulu would hear the occasional tidbit from the ensign decks or engineering crew about what Ensign Chekov had supposedly gushed about him this week. He still reacts the way he did then, with his ears going hot and with an intense disbelief at what life seems to have handed him, and now he just kisses Chekov's hair without pressing him further.

"Well, they seemed to like hearing about you and me very much," Chekov continues. "Very, very much -- they kept asking me more, and got so happy when I answered. They were very excited, Hikaru."

"Huh," says Sulu. "I do remember hearing that the Thamasans rate romantic love above like, everything else."

"I think this is true, yes." Chekov links their hands together. "They asked me my favorite part of you."

"Oh, really?" says Sulu, light and teasing. He bumps his hips against Chekov's. "And what did you say?"

Chekov plays with Sulu's fingers. "I said how kind you are. How strong someone must be, to be kind in the way you are."

Sulu feels his cheeks heat. He doesn't reply, just swallows and keeps watching Chekov's face.

"And they all liked that, but then they said, no, your favorite thing that he does in the bed." Chekov starts to blush, but keeps going. "Now you must remember I was very drunk, Hikaru, so I thought it was a fine question. And, um, I said, it is when we are making love and, you, um, you kiss my chest. Where you kissed it today."

"Oh," says Sulu, after a second.

"And then they were all very excited and they brought me to some kind of temple, I think it was, or maybe it was just decorated nicely, I don't know, but anyway, that's where they, um, did it." He winces up at Sulu. "It seemed to make sense at the time."

"So, wait," says Sulu. "Are you thinking that the two are connected? Like, how the piercings, you know -- make you feel -- and how you told them you like me playing with your nipples?"

"Hikaru!" whispers Chekov, pushing Sulu's shoulder, and how he can manage to look scandalized when he's just been so well-fucked is a mystery. "But -- yes, I think so. It was when you alone touched them that I... felt this way. And on the planet I thought I kept hearing their word for 'amplify,' but I assumed I was just very drunk and getting my vocabulary confused."

"'Amplify,'" repeats Sulu softly, ghosting his fingers over one of the metal studs and watching as a quiver runs through Chekov's body from shoulder to shin.

"But," says Sulu after a second. "For a while before, you were the one touching them. And they still, you know, seemed to work."

"I have considered this," says Chekov, looking serious. "Hold still for a moment."

Chekov takes Sulu's hand and pulls away until their interlaced fingers are their only point of contact. With his other hand, he thumbs one of his piercings experimentally and gasps, shivering in pleasure.

Sulu exhales at the sight, twitching to get closer, but Chekov shakes his head to stop him.

"Now, without," he says unsteadily. He lets go of Sulu's hand, disconnecting them completely, and rubs at his chest again. His only reaction this time is a slight frown.

"Anything?" says Sulu.

"No." Chekov scoots back. "It seems you must be touching me, but it does not matter where."

At this, Sulu reaches to take gentle hold of Chekov's face, stroking his cheekbones with both thumbs. Chekov smiles, closes his palm over his left piercing, and holds it there, pressing lightly. He lets out a deep, contented breath, his eyelids drooping a bit.

"I do not think I want them removed," he says after a minute.

"Yeah," murmurs Sulu, slightly mesmerized. He shakes his head a little and draws back. "Want me to tell the captain?"

"Yes, please. Only --" Chekov scrunches his face up -- "please do not tell him why."

"I won't, don't worry." Sulu kisses Chekov's adorably furrowed brow before getting up.

Sulu's picking through the pile of clothes on the floor looking for his boxers -- for some reason it seems obscene to comm the captain while naked -- when he hears Chekov gasp sharply.

"What's wrong?" says Sulu, crossing back to the bed at once. He's keenly aware of the possibility of unknown alien voodoo side-effects, and Chekov's eyes are screwed shut, his mouth slightly open in what might be pain, his hand still pressed over his heart. Sulu leans over him, fretting.

After a second Chekov lets out a shaky breath. When he looks up at Sulu, his eyes are black with pupil.

"It happens even when you're leaking from me," he whispers.

Sulu stares down at him, heart pounding in his ears.

"Yeah?" he finally manages to say, his voice hoarse.

Chekov nods. He's starting to pant.

Sulu slowly kneels on either side of Chekov's naked body, straddling him.

"You need more?" he whispers as he slides his hand down to the crack of Chekov's ass. He starts gently fucking that leaking hole with two fingers, feeling though his own warm come, watching Chekov throw his head back and cry out. "Want more, baby?"

"Da, ahh, Hikaru, yes." Chekov arches, fingering his own nipples, and Sulu makes a rumbling sound of approval in the back of his throat. Roughly he turns Chekov on his side.

"C'mere, pretty." He pulls Chekov into a spooning position. "Lift your leg up."

Both of them shiver when Sulu enters from behind in one long, breathless stroke, Chekov whimpering and scrabbling at his chest and Sulu exhaling deeply. Sulu loves this, when they've already fucked once and they don't have to prepare, he can just sink into Chekov like he belongs inside him. He keeps Chekov's leg snug in the crook of his arm as he pushes even deeper, to the hilt, squeezing out a thin ring of come and making Chekov arch and whine.

"So nice and tight," Sulu murmurs when their balls are nestled together.

"Hisha," Chekov whimpers, humping back against him, and Sulu smiles against his shoulder -- he knows Chekov is far gone when he starts to soften Sulu's name into unrecognizable Russian. "Please."

"Hmm?" Sulu's just holding Chekov in place, grinding a little and licking at his neck.

"P-please, put -- your mouth on them."

Sulu pauses for a second to look at him. Chekov's head is tipped back: he's looking at Sulu pleadingly through heavy-lidded eyes, his back arched and fingers teasing his piercings.

"Like you told them?"

"Ah -- yes, please --"

"You do it first," he whispers into Chekov's ear. "Rub them, make yourself feel good."

Chekov sobs a little but obeys, thumbing his nipples hard. Sulu starts to move, still just grinding, a slow swivel of his hips.

"Yeah," he whispers, watching Chekov finger his chest and tip his head back, moaning. "That's good, like that."

"I'm going to play with these new toys every day," he continues softly, bringing his palm up to help rub Chekov's hand over his nipples. "I'm going to bite them and lick them till they're nice and sore. And then I'm gonna fuck you, baby, over and over, all night long, pump this nice tight ass full of come. And the next morning every time you move, your shirt's gonna rub against your sore little nipples, and my come's gonna leak from your sore little asshole, and you're gonna blush and gasp and try not to come in your pants on the bridge, aren't you?"

"Ah --!"

"But I think maybe you will anyway. You're gonna come in your pants right there on the bridge. Aren't you, Pavel? You're gonna come right there in front of everybody."

"Hikaru!" Chekov pushes himself back onto Sulu's cock, desperate to be fucked, and breaks into that babble of Russian that Sulu's only begun to be able to translate: baby and please and I need it.

By now Sulu's control has run out, too, and he growls into Chekov's ear as he starts pounding into him. He dips his head down, catching a glimpse of Chekov's stiff red cock slapping his stomach with each thrust, and closes his mouth over one of those pierced pink nipples, feeling the vibration of Chekov's breathless scream.

He can only reach one, but Chekov takes care of the other, thumbing it clumsily while he fists his cock. He's hiccupping out his breaths, boneless, almost catatonic with pleasure. In seconds he's coming again with a choked wail.

"Shit," whimpers Sulu, squeezing his eyes shut at the unbelievable pulsing tightness.

He throws Chekov onto his hands and knees, takes him by the hips, and starts fucking him so hard Chekov keeps sliding further and further up the sheets, crying out, his body still squeezing around Sulu's in his orgasm. Sulu pauses, panting and waiting for the aftershocks to pass, then pulls out slowly, almost all the way, just to see that raw pink skin clinging around him. He shoves back in with a groan for a few last, desperate thrusts, coming to the idea that now Chekov's sore little nipples match that sore little hole.

For a long time afterward they just lie there, panting and exhausted.

Finally Sulu rises up to his elbows and pulls out very slowly.

"Are you okay?" he murmurs against Chekov's back.

Laughing a little, Chekov nods. He squirms a bit, and Sulu helps turn him over so that his back is against Sulu's chest, the sheet pulled over the wet spot. When they're tucked together, Chekov reaches back to take Sulu's hand and puts it over his heart, holding it there, Sulu's pinky just touching the stud. Sulu nuzzles at Chekov's throat, feeling his steady heartbeat against his lips and under his palm.

They lie there for a while, warm and sated. Chekov's so quiet that Sulu assumes he's fallen asleep, so it's a surprise when he breaks the silence.



"What would you have told them?" Chekov turns over to look at him. "If they asked you your favorite thing of me."

"Besides everything?"

Chekov laughs and pushes at him, but Sulu catches his hand and kisses it, looking him in the eyes.

"Hikaru," Chekov chides him softly after a minute, blushing.

"Hmm, well." Sulu kisses his hand one more time before he lets it go. He stretches a little, feeling his own cheeks heat. "I guess it would just be... when I'm inside you, feeling you squeeze me so tight."

"Mm, yes, I like this also," says Chekov, smiling lazily.

Suddenly his eyes fly open.

"Hikaru! Does that mean they would have pierced your... you know?" He glances down between Sulu's legs meaningfully.

"Oh, God!" Sulu laughs, shuddering. "I don't even want to think about it."

"But it didn't hurt. And if they made me feel so good with just my nipples..."

After a moment's thought, Sulu glances at him. They raise their eyebrows at each other.


The next day, Kirk frowned as Sulu boarded the transporter platform.

"Are you sure you want to do this, Lieutenant?"

"Positive, sir," said Sulu sternly. "It's imperative I confront the Thamasans personally about Ensign Chekov's condition."

Chekov watched from the controls, looking troubled but brave.

"At the very least you could bring some security detail with you," said Kirk.

"No, no. Thank you, Captain, but I have to do this alone." Sulu nodded to Chekov. "When you're ready, Pavel."

When Sulu waved before dematerializing, Kirk found it a bit odd. Odder still was what he thought he saw Chekov doing out of the corner of his eye: fluttering his fingers as he waved back, grinning and looking giddy. But when Kirk turned to check, Chekov's face was solemn, his hands clasped behind his back.

Kirk headed back to the bridge, shaking his head a little.

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