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wellownedbkupTitle: Easy Money, Lying on a Bed (Coda)
Prompt: Chekov's a good, dutiful son who sends lots of letters home from his very first starship assignment. Then there's that trip to the pleasure planet he's not quite sure how to explain to his mother.
Pairings: Chekov/Sulu.
Notes: As requested, the scene directly following what I posted before.
Rating: NC-17, Mature, XXX…. Whatever you wanna call it, it’s porn.
The moment Sulu nods is the very same moment that Chekov sheds the innocent choir-boy attitude and cants himself further into Sulu’s space, eyes downcast coyly and grip on his hair flexing like a pulse. Even without the glitter and the eyeliner, Chekov still looks like an exotic pinup in only his uniform pants, all sleek and ethereal in the harsh light in his room. He knows it too, licking his lips even as the corners tip up in a smirk.
Sulu doesn’t even know how he does it, suddenly finding himself following the sway of narrow hips back a handful of steps to the bed beside the wardrobe, down onto it without a thought. He finds himself covering Chekov easily, aligned and pressed together at hips. He doesn’t even try to stop himself from rocking into the cradle of Chekov’s hips, the hot press of hard cock to hard cock that has both of them shivering. Sulu just stops a moment to breathe, braced with hands on either side of Chekov’s head and constricted by all the clothes he still wears.
Chekov doesn’t let him get his bearings. He rolls his hips upward, one leg draped over Sulu’s flank and drawing their bodies together in a parody of the actual act. It’s not enough, not nearly enough, and they’re both impatient as he strips Sulu’s shirt up and sets his mouth to his chest. He presses little kisses, biting and sucking, across the bared skin. It’s soft and cool under his lips, the only sign that he’s having any effect at all in the sound of Sulu’s heart racing.
“I have been waiting so long for you, Hikaru.” The breathy whisper makes Sulu moan softly. “So empty with waiting for you. Fill me up, Hikaru. Make me yours.”
They break apart, an explosion of movement that gives them the space to rip their pants and shoes off, Sulu continually distracted by the long stretches of bare skin appearing before his eyes. Chekov smiles, a bright smile despite the desperation in their eyes, falling to his knees in front of Sulu, hands gently pushing his out of the way and grasping at the fly.
“Let me,” he breathes, running the tip of his nose along the outline of Sulu’s cock. He runs his fingertips beneath the waistband to gently maneuver them down, snagging up his shorts in the process.
There’s nothing for Sulu to hold onto except Chekov when he starts bobbing his head on his cock. “Pavel,” Sulu groans, hands slipping into the curls atop Chekov’s head to try to ground himself. His knees nearly give out as the ingénue takes him deep into his throat, swallowing around his length like it was nothing. “Pavel, please,” he finds himself saying, tugging at his hair until he can get the boy to release him.
The smug little smirk on Chekov’s face doesn’t go unnoticed, but they’re both willing to let that pass in favor of stealing kisses as they lie back onto the bed again. Chekov sucks gently on Sulu’s tongue, as if he wishes he were still previously engaged, and Sulu can barely stand to be denied much longer. Chekov isn’t easily swayed, prolonging the kiss even as his hand rolls a condom onto Sulu’s cock and perfunctorily prepares himself. Slowly, as if it takes effort to leave the comfort of his lover’s mouth, he finally releases him, turning lust-blown eyes up to gaze upon his lover. “Hikaru.”
One word is all it takes, all the permission in the world. Sulu presses into the boy, unable to wait any longer and shudders at the way his mind shuts down to a mantra of hot tight fuck. He presses inexorably forward, hearing somewhere at the edge of consciousness Chekov’s gasps of pleasure. He can’t last long like this, he thinks as he finally bottoms out and stops; neither of them can. Sulu drops his head, their foreheads brushing and his eyes drawn down to where they’re pressed so tightly together that their sweat mixes and slips off to the side. Chekov tightens around him, fingers from one hand spearing through his hair as he brings him down for a kiss.
“Fuck me, Hikaru. I need it. I need you.”
Sulu gives him exactly what he asks for, hips snapping in and out as he tries to hold out. Chekov makes it harder and harder to do, clenching down on him and rolling his hips in counterpoint, making each motion the pinnacle of pleasure. “Pavel… I.. please!” Sulu manages to gasp, unable to move his hands from where they’ve attached at Chekov’s hips. It’s enough, more than enough, for Chekov to get a hand on his own dick, stripping it in time to Sulu’s stuttering thrusts.
There’s no more warning. Sulu can’t hold back anymore, fucking through his own orgasm until Chekov peaks with a hiccupping sigh. They collapse onto the bed, panting with the exertion. Sulu keeps blinking up at the bulkheads, the red painted ducts that carry everything around the ship.
“Damn.”
Chekov gives a breathy chuckle. “Lesson one.”
Sulu summons the effort to turn his head to look incredulously at his lover. “Really?” At his nod, he turns back to look at the ceiling. “Fuck.”
Prompt: Chekov's a good, dutiful son who sends lots of letters home from his very first starship assignment. Then there's that trip to the pleasure planet he's not quite sure how to explain to his mother.
Pairings: Chekov/Sulu.
Notes: As requested, the scene directly following what I posted before.
Rating: NC-17, Mature, XXX…. Whatever you wanna call it, it’s porn.
The moment Sulu nods is the very same moment that Chekov sheds the innocent choir-boy attitude and cants himself further into Sulu’s space, eyes downcast coyly and grip on his hair flexing like a pulse. Even without the glitter and the eyeliner, Chekov still looks like an exotic pinup in only his uniform pants, all sleek and ethereal in the harsh light in his room. He knows it too, licking his lips even as the corners tip up in a smirk.
Sulu doesn’t even know how he does it, suddenly finding himself following the sway of narrow hips back a handful of steps to the bed beside the wardrobe, down onto it without a thought. He finds himself covering Chekov easily, aligned and pressed together at hips. He doesn’t even try to stop himself from rocking into the cradle of Chekov’s hips, the hot press of hard cock to hard cock that has both of them shivering. Sulu just stops a moment to breathe, braced with hands on either side of Chekov’s head and constricted by all the clothes he still wears.
Chekov doesn’t let him get his bearings. He rolls his hips upward, one leg draped over Sulu’s flank and drawing their bodies together in a parody of the actual act. It’s not enough, not nearly enough, and they’re both impatient as he strips Sulu’s shirt up and sets his mouth to his chest. He presses little kisses, biting and sucking, across the bared skin. It’s soft and cool under his lips, the only sign that he’s having any effect at all in the sound of Sulu’s heart racing.
“I have been waiting so long for you, Hikaru.” The breathy whisper makes Sulu moan softly. “So empty with waiting for you. Fill me up, Hikaru. Make me yours.”
They break apart, an explosion of movement that gives them the space to rip their pants and shoes off, Sulu continually distracted by the long stretches of bare skin appearing before his eyes. Chekov smiles, a bright smile despite the desperation in their eyes, falling to his knees in front of Sulu, hands gently pushing his out of the way and grasping at the fly.
“Let me,” he breathes, running the tip of his nose along the outline of Sulu’s cock. He runs his fingertips beneath the waistband to gently maneuver them down, snagging up his shorts in the process.
There’s nothing for Sulu to hold onto except Chekov when he starts bobbing his head on his cock. “Pavel,” Sulu groans, hands slipping into the curls atop Chekov’s head to try to ground himself. His knees nearly give out as the ingénue takes him deep into his throat, swallowing around his length like it was nothing. “Pavel, please,” he finds himself saying, tugging at his hair until he can get the boy to release him.
The smug little smirk on Chekov’s face doesn’t go unnoticed, but they’re both willing to let that pass in favor of stealing kisses as they lie back onto the bed again. Chekov sucks gently on Sulu’s tongue, as if he wishes he were still previously engaged, and Sulu can barely stand to be denied much longer. Chekov isn’t easily swayed, prolonging the kiss even as his hand rolls a condom onto Sulu’s cock and perfunctorily prepares himself. Slowly, as if it takes effort to leave the comfort of his lover’s mouth, he finally releases him, turning lust-blown eyes up to gaze upon his lover. “Hikaru.”
One word is all it takes, all the permission in the world. Sulu presses into the boy, unable to wait any longer and shudders at the way his mind shuts down to a mantra of hot tight fuck. He presses inexorably forward, hearing somewhere at the edge of consciousness Chekov’s gasps of pleasure. He can’t last long like this, he thinks as he finally bottoms out and stops; neither of them can. Sulu drops his head, their foreheads brushing and his eyes drawn down to where they’re pressed so tightly together that their sweat mixes and slips off to the side. Chekov tightens around him, fingers from one hand spearing through his hair as he brings him down for a kiss.
“Fuck me, Hikaru. I need it. I need you.”
Sulu gives him exactly what he asks for, hips snapping in and out as he tries to hold out. Chekov makes it harder and harder to do, clenching down on him and rolling his hips in counterpoint, making each motion the pinnacle of pleasure. “Pavel… I.. please!” Sulu manages to gasp, unable to move his hands from where they’ve attached at Chekov’s hips. It’s enough, more than enough, for Chekov to get a hand on his own dick, stripping it in time to Sulu’s stuttering thrusts.
There’s no more warning. Sulu can’t hold back anymore, fucking through his own orgasm until Chekov peaks with a hiccupping sigh. They collapse onto the bed, panting with the exertion. Sulu keeps blinking up at the bulkheads, the red painted ducts that carry everything around the ship.
“Damn.”
Chekov gives a breathy chuckle. “Lesson one.”
Sulu summons the effort to turn his head to look incredulously at his lover. “Really?” At his nod, he turns back to look at the ceiling. “Fuck.”
