Target Area

(Sulu/Chekov)

M for sexual situations

"You sure you're okay?" Sulu looked so worried that Chekov almost grinned, but winced instead when he sat down on the bench in the locker room, realizing that his runner's muscles did not translate well to fencing parries. Sulu had been right, although he did not appear to be savoring the moment.

"I am fine, Hikaru. Stop worrying." He pushed away the hands patting down his ribs and sighed in defeat. "I am never going to be good at this, am I?"

"Just because you didn't catch on right away? Fuck, Pavel. It took me years." He stopped trying to check for injuries and looked guiltily into his eyes. "Want me to make it up to you?"

"No need for that," he said, but he stared at the hands Sulu was unconsciously flexing by his side. They hadn't talked yet about that kiss, the one they weren't supposed to have, the one brought on two days ago by too many glasses of spiked punch at the New Year's party and not enough sober reservations. Sulu had pushed him away and Chekov had walked back to his quarters, avoiding eye contact with the people littering the corridors of the ship at 0100 hours.

"I could massage your back," he offered, taking a step closer to him.

Pavel closed his eyes as Sulu starting rubbing his shoulders, hesitantly, and then with more confidence as Pavel didn't protest. His head dropped tiredly, feeling the tension dropping away in the strength of Sulu's fingers.

Sulu's breath was hot on his neck. "You should remove your shirt and lie down on the massage table."

Who was he to argue when he made such nice requests? Especially in such a low voice.

That voice. That was the tone Sulu used when he became affected, when his fingers trembled on Pavel's skin, just as they had when he had touched his face during the kiss before he pushed him away. Now it was rough, muttering to himself as he arranged him on the table, tilting Pavel's head away so he couldn't see what he was doing. Pavel shivered as he remembered how Sulu had become distracted during the lesson, allowing Pavel to score some blows that nicked his clothing and made his eyes darken, but not in irritation. The nicks just seemed to motivate him to teach Pavel movement and stance more than anything.

Pavel knew what it was like to be good at something and Sulu was excellent at fencing.

He was also rather talented at finding knots in his shoulders and—oh god—loosening them. "Hikaru—ugh—that's good. Right there." He rolled his shoulders and lay flatter on the programmable surface that was softening around him and massaging his burning thighs as Sulu worked on his back. He felt the capable hands make a sweep up and down, using fists to fight tension and leave his muscles completely lax before moving to a new area, his moans becoming more guttural until he realized that anyone standing outside right now would think that the noises he was making were more sexual than...not.

Just like that, he was hard. Or maybe he had been since Sulu's face had grown determined and he had said "no, that was not a lunge Pavel, try again," even though Pavel's face was red with concentration and his muscles burning to stop.

"You can move lower," Pavel said, tensing as he waited for a reply.

Sulu moved his hands to the small of his back. "Here, you mean?"

"Lower," he whispered, but Sulu seemed to hear because his thumbs grew wider in their movements, circling the top of his ass, getting bolder and sneaking under his work-out trousers. The touch made him keen softly and he bit his lip so that he could keep it inside in the quiet room.

He stopped and Pavel lay still for a moment before rising and sitting back on his heels to look at Sulu, standing next to the table, hands flexing once more, face troubled. "Come here," he said, deciding to take charge of the situation. "Come here and kiss me."

Pavel could clearly see his mind working as well as the moment Sulu gave in, climbing on the table to frame him with his arms, keeping him from going anywhere as he kissed him deeply, thoroughly, answering any concerns Pavel still had after the rejection at the party.

"I want you, Pavel. So damn much." Sulu thrust against him, holding him down on the massage table, tangling his legs with his rubbing himself against Pavel as he spoke quietly. "You—you surprised me and I wasn't sure you were ready."

"Stupid. That's stupid." Pavel gasped as Sulu spread his legs with a sharp movement of his knee and reached down to palm his erection through the layers of cloth. "You should have asked, should have known." He could feel Sulu hard against his open thigh and he wriggled under Sulu's weight, silently asking for more.

Sulu gave into his demand and rocked against him, continuing to kiss him as they grew more frantic in their movements, promising ridiculous things to each other the more wound up they became. Pavel clutched Hikaru to him as he came, taking his weight gratefully and wrapping himself around him like a limpet. Sulu thrust once more and groaned before stilling in his arms.

Even completely relaxed and almost crushed from Hikaru's weight, Pavel was content and unable to stop touching him, smoothing his hair that was growing a little long lately and touching all the skin uncovered by clothing.

"I think I won," Pavel said into Sulu's ear—he looked relaxed enough to fall asleep on the padded table, on top of him.

Except now he was laughing, shoulders shaking. "Sure, Pavel. You won this round. But just wait until we try again."

"En garde," Pavel shook his fist in the air for emphasis.

"Allez," Sulu murmured.