The BLTS Archive - Shoreleave by Sigrid (sigridthehaughty@yahoo.com) --- Archive: ASCEM,bLTS, yes please Disclaimer: anne bows in Paramount's direction and thanks the Rodenberry family for their indulgence. --- Taking his chances, Chekov had left the raucous bar with the young woman (he hoped), nodding to the glass Sulu raised in his direction. She had breasts, lovely large ones, but that was no guarantee. He drew a deep breath and ran a hand down over her hip as they rode up the hotel's elevator. So many months in space and everyone treating him like he was the youngest of three brothers in a folktale. But in the folktales, no matter how stupid the youngest seemed, he always came out on top. Was she a woman, though? A bridge to cross when he came to it. --- Sulu had watched gloomily as Chekov left the bar. He'd been considering making a move this shoreleave, but Chekov had immediately made tracks for the big-busted Tilorian the minute they'd entered the bar. Chekov used his charms very effectively, Sulu had thought as he watched. A downward glance, thick dark lashes set off by pale skin. The wide-eyed look, the coy flirtatious glances, a tongue that flicked out to lick the rim of his glass... He probably didn't even know he was doing it. 'Naive' and 'Chekov' were practically synonymous. Sulu sighed and looked around the bar. There had to be someone here who could show him a good time. --- Chekov raised a hand and palmed Ila's nipple gently through her tunic, then drew a fingertip across it. She smiled at him and leaned forward to nibble at his neck and he sighed happily as he undid the fasteners and slid the shirt from her body and tossed it on a waiting chair. Shoreleave. He ran his hands over her back and smiled at the feeling of her three (three!) breasts pressed firmly to his chest. Gently he eased the skirt over her hips and drew her close, careful not to look down. Yes, she was moving and gyrating against him now, and she... Seemed to have a very large dick. Shit. Wait, wait, wait. No, he was Chekov. He, like all the crewmembers on the starship Enterprise, would bravely do his duty, no matter what the circumstances. Like any other Starfleet officer. He drew back to look at her. "Are you...?" "Herm," she said. Suddenly she seemed older, sympathetic, and she brushed the hair back from his eyes. "Oh, honey. Don't worry. If this isn't your thing..." "Won't know unless I've tried it, yes?" He drew her (him?) in closer again and wished he'd paid more attention to the intricacies of Tilorian pronouns. "That's okay, sweetie. Look, there's a bar we can go to, I can find someone nice for you. There's no reason..." She looked disappointed, he thought a bit smugly. "I joined Starfleet to broaden my horizons. No reason I shouldn't cross this frontier, is there?" He tried again to kiss her and this time she let him. But she also slid her arms around him and patted his back, like a mother soothing a baby. Would no one in the universe acknowledge that he was no longer a child? "On the other hand, if my inexperience..." He let his voice trail off and attempted to look sad and hopeful at the same time. It worked. But then, it always did. It wasn't often that that look didn't get him exactly what he wanted. "Handsome boy like you? I think I can show you a few things. But first..." She crossed to a cabinet and removed a decanter, and poured two small glasses of an amber liqueur. "I think this may help you relax." He accepted the glass handed him and sipped the liqueur. It warmed him, and seemed to infuse the room with a golden haze. "Yes, I thought you might like that," Ila said silkily. "Let's see what else you like..." --- Chekov stood at the window and watched dreamily as large white flakes drifted to the ground. The streets had the hushed quality of a late winter evening, the deep snow muffling the sound of the few beings actually going anywhere. For the most part, everyone was inside, and warm. It felt a bit like home. Sort of. Not the architecture, perhaps, but the cold in the air and the quality of the light. The single moon set the landscape aglow. Chekov dug his toes into the thick carpet and idly rubbed a sore spot on his hip. "What are you thinking about, you handsome boy?" Chekov turned from the window, a faint smile on his face. "Home," he said simply. Turning back, he looked down into the quiet streets "So, I scared you enough so that you want to turn tail and run back to mama?" A finger traced his spine and then a hand slid over his ass. His somewhat tender ass. "Hardly." Chekov smiled as his new lover pressed against him from behind, his (her?) arms coming to wrap around him. She was slightly taller than he, so he leaned his head back against his shoulder, enjoying the feel of the cock pressed against him. "More?" she purred in his ear. "More of something..." This had been one hell of a shoreleave. --- "Mr. Chekov, you look well rested." No, Captain, Chekov looks like he got laid, Sulu thought. Which you would know if you caught sight of your own expression in the mirror. The ensign just smiled his normal good-natured smile and turned to his station. Sulu watched him speculatively. What had happened between Chekov and that Tilorian with whom he had left the bar? He'd disappeared into the hotel and not re-emerged for two days. And the goodbye kiss Sulu had seen him planting on -- him? her? ne? -- well, it had made his toes curl even as his stomach twisted with jealousy. The Tilorian hadn't been male. Which meant there was a 50/50 chance it had been a hermaphrodite, every sexual organ fully responsive... Sulu's own sexual organs began to twitch. He had found himself a willing male partner, having been unwilling, himself, to ask whether the women were women or... not. Apparently Tilorians could tell by scent. Chekov would probably not have had sex with a hermaphrodite, Sulu thought as he piloted the ship out of orbit. Or if he had, Sulu mused, perhaps he had just ignored the existence of the alien's cock. It was unlikely that... Yes, completely unlikely, so get your mind off this train of thought and back on the job at hand. Save your fantasies for later. --- They say a little learning is a dangerous thing, Chekov thought. In this case, a little learning was perhaps not dangerous, but it did make him see certain things in a whole new light. Surreptitiously, he eyed the bridge crew. The captain. Handsome, certainly. But still, the captain. True, Captain Kirk would probably fuck anything that moved. Well, anything that wasn't an ensign under his command. Spock. Chekov thought a moment. Intriguing but ultimately... No. He directed his gaze at Sulu. Well, there at least he knew that Sulu's tastes ran in both directions. The question was did Chekov make a move, or did he gather a little more intelligence, so to speak. Sulu was a good friend; it was important not to lose sight of that fact. Still contemplating the possibilities, he rubbed absently at the bruise that had not yet faded from his hip. --- Sulu lay on his bunk and fruitlessly tried *not* to imagine what it would be like to have Pavel Chekov in his bed. The next time they were on shoreleave, maybe then he'd make an attempt to discover whether those come-hither looks meant what they seemed to mean. What he *wanted* them to mean. But, frankly, Chekov had cut a wide swathe through the available men on the ship after returning from Tilori and Sulu didn't really feel like becoming one of the many. At least, not while they were both on duty. Shoreleave, that was another matter. Anything went, on shoreleave. The next shoreleave, unfortunately, was a good six weeks away. --- Several weeks later, Chekov was still down to contemplating one singular possibility with an increasing sense of frustration. Perhaps Sulu simply did not find him attractive? That could not be so, Chekov told himself comfortingly. Could it? Or perhaps, he thought for the umpteenth time, the wiles he used on women were not effective on men. But that did not seem quite likely either. He'd experimented on a few -- well, more than a few -- crewmembers and had a singularly exceptional success rate. Was it because Sulu was his superior officer? Well, Sulu had been known to bed an ensign or two. But not any with whom he was friends. And not one with whom he shared a bridge shift. So maybe that was the reason? If at first you don't succeed, Pavel... At any rate, they would be on shoreleave in a few days. Maybe after he took care of that bit of business, he would get an opportunity. --- Sulu ducked back into a doorway as Chekov examined his surroundings uncertainly. What the hell was Chekov up to? This was not a section of town an idiot ensign should wander into on his own. And yet there was Pavel, blithely ambling the streets while the rest of the (sane, sensible) crewmembers were exploring the delights of the Capian pleasure gardens. Skulking around an alien city was *not* how Sulu had intended on spending his shoreleave. No, he'd had plans that included spring wine and enticing a certain ensign into warming his bed. Actually, no. He'd planned on letting Chekov do the enticing. But Chekov, for reasons that Sulu could not fathom, had turned him down for... For what?! Sulu watched through narrowed eyes as Chekov made his way purposefully towards what appeared to be a bar. The man had turned him down for a seedy dive? Surely Sulu couldn't have misread the flirtatious glances that had been sent his way since they'd spent shoreleave on Tilori. Well, the glances that had been sent his way when Chekov wasn't honing his skills on any other willing crewmate. What was the young idiot up to, anyway? Whatever you're up to, Chekov, you need someone watching your back. And it looks like I'm elected. Sulu sent a silent prayer to whatever gods might watch over naive young ensigns, not to mention the lieutenants currently stalking them. --- Chekov looked around the bar. Not his type of place. A bit rougher than he cared for. But Ila had suggested he come here, if they made it to Rigdisia, and so here he was. He wished he could have taken up Sulu up on his offer to see the pleasure gardens. Perhaps later. Yes, definitely later. He ordered a drink and looked around the bar once it was safely in hand. "Interesting place you've found." Chekov swallowed his beer the wrong way. "Mr." *cough* "Sulu?" "So, what's the attraction?" Sulu asked, looking around disdainfully as he sipped his own beer. "Ah. Well. Ila, the... Tilorian... thought I might find it intriguing. Perhaps it has changed since... What pronoun do Tilorians use for hermaphrodites?" Chekov said nervously, searching for a topic of conversation. "Ne/nar," Sulu said. "Te/tam for gender neutral objects." "Too confusing." Chekov shook his head. "Anyway, perhaps it has changed since Ila was last here." "Looks like this place has been a dump for the past few centuries," Sulu said, casually turning from the bar to glance at the stone walls from which layer upon layer of paint was peeling, to the light fixtures which seemed to have evaded dusting for a good decade at least. Not to mention the bar's clientele which resembled nothing so much as a convention of thugs. "Beer is good, though," Chekov said, turning to look as well. He started as Sulu leaned his thigh against Chekov's. With a sigh, he moved away. Wrong time, wrong place. --- Sulu gave Chekov a quick look as he felt the other man lean away from him. What the hell? Close to two months of flirtation and now Ensign Chekov was playing hard-to-get? Sulu considered. Or maybe the ensign was just shy? No, a couple of months ago he might have thought 'shy' but now... Now it seemed that there was more than a bit of manipulativeness hidden behind that doe-eyed innocent expression. Yes, Chekov knew exactly what he was doing. At least when it came to sex. Not when it came to choosing a bar. This place, thought Sulu, was making him decidedly uneasy. Sulu stiffened as a Tilorian stood from his table and sauntered towards them, his eyes intent on Chekov. "Hello. You look like you're new here." The gaze slid over Sulu before returning to gaze avidly at Chekov. "This is my first visit to this lovely planet, yes." Don't give him an opening, Sulu groaned to himself. "Well, someone should show you a good time then." The Tilorian's smile grew wider and he reached out to brush her hand across Chekov's cheek. "Showing him a good time is my responsibility," Sulu said mildly, not liking the glazed look that had entered Chekov's eyes. Chekov gulped and fluttered his eyelashes at the Tilorian, while kicking Sulu none too subtly in the ankle. Sulu began to feel rather indignant. Chekov had been pursuing him for weeks and the minute Sulu started to show a little interest, he headed in the other direction. Or perhaps Sulu had just waited too long. "I'm sure *I* could show you things you've never even dreamed of," the Tilnori murmured. "I am told I am quite imaginative," Chekov replied with a demure smile. Sulu looked from the Tilorian to Chekov and back again. "Really? That's not what I've heard." He took a last swallow of his beer and grabbed Chekov's arm. "C'mon Pavel. Places to go, people to see." "Things to do," Chekov agreed, pulling his arm out of Sulu's grasp and sending a sultry look at the Tilorian. "I'm Grenleer, sweet thing." "Pavel," Chekov said huskily. Enough was enough, Sulu thought. He tugged on Chekov's arm and attempted to force-march him out of the bar. Some intimation of danger was prickling at the back of Sulu's neck. "I guess he's the jealous type," Grenleer said softly, placing a possessive hand on Pavel's shoulders. "Yes. It is problematic for me," Chekov said. Sulu blinked from one man to the other. "Pavel, we're leaving. Now." "You may leave, if you wish," Chekov said. "Me, I wish to stay." "Pavel. We're leaving. There's something about this situation..." Sulu swallowed as four cloaked figures stood, threw back their hoods, and pointed disruptors at them. Romulans. Fuck. "You were saying, Mr. Sulu?" Chekov asked. "Gentlemen, would you step this way?" Grenleer asked. Shrugging, Sulu did as he was bid, Chekov following closely on his heels. --- Sulu paced as he considered their cell. Chekov sat in the corner, nursing his bloody hip. The cell was primitive, but effective. A cage within a cage within a cage. "You were set up," Sulu lectured. "It would seem so," Chekov said. Sulu rather felt that he failed to show sufficient chagrin. "The Tilorian you met on Tilori -- she..." "Ne," Chekov interrupted. "*Ne* set you up." Chekov lifted the makeshift bandage and looked at the wound visible through the hole in his uniform. His manner was resigned rather than otherwise. "A chip, planted subdurally. Not quite sure what the information was..." "Really? I thought you knew everything," Chekov muttered. "But doubtlessly it had something to do with the Romulan's plans for this sector." "Doubtlessly," Chekov agreed. "Pavel, you must be more careful," Sulu instructed. "Yes. I will be more careful," Chekov said. Was Chekov gritting his teeth? "Are you in pain?" Sulu asked, concerned. "Of a sort." Chekov flashed him an insincere smile and went back to contemplating his wound. --- The lecture was over. Finally. Why had Sulu had to come along and spoil everything? Now matters were so much more complicated than they needed to be. "Pavel?" Sulu's voice interrupted his thoughts and Chekov braced himself for another lecture. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have... It could have happened to anyone." Chekov leaned his head back against the bars. "True." "I mean, you weren't to know." "Also true." In a manner of speaking. "So perhaps..." Sulu walked over to Chekov and sat down on the floor beside him. Tentatively, his arm went around Chekov, and with a sigh, Chekov relaxed and leaned against him. Nice, Chekov thought. It is a bit chilly in here. And sympathy and warmth were more welcome than pointless lectures that he couldn't even refute, given the circumstances. "I'm sure the Enterprise is looking for us. They'll find us," Sulu said comfortingly. "I am certain that they will," Chekov said, yawning. "Rest, then. I'll keep watch." "Certainly." Settling his weight more firmly against Sulu's body, Chekov drifted off into sleep. --- There was the sound of phaser fire and shouting. Sulu tensed... It had sounded like the captain, but it was impossible to tell in the pitch dark. From the scraping sounds he was hearing, it appeared that their cages were being unlocked. And then the room was flooded with light. Sulu blinked his eyes to clear them and saw his captain standing before him. "Well, gentlemen, you don't look *that* much worse for wear." "Captain," Chekov said. He rose unsteadily to his feet, and Sulu leapt to assist him. "It wasn't his fault," Sulu said. "It could have happened to anyone. He just..." "He followed me," Chekov interrupted. "Apparently his presence was unwelcome and the Romulans reacted with more force than they might have otherwise." "No matter. Except for the added bruises the two of you are sporting, it actually worked out to our benefit. We were able to catch a few more agents in our net." The captain bestowed a cheerful glance on them both. "Have Bones check you both out, and then you're both free to enjoy two days of shoreleave." Sulu looked from the captain to Chekov and back again, trying not to let his mouth hang open in disbelief. Chekov just shrugged. --- Sulu sat silently as the doctor repaired the damage to Chekov's hip, hmmphing disgruntledly as he did so. "No need for such brutality. I was able to remove the thing with a pair of tweezers." Sulu sighed. Yet more evidence of how completely he'd misjudged the situation. "You, Mr. Sulu, are free to go." "I'd prefer to wait until you're finished with Mr. Chekov. Sir." "That's not necessary, Mr. Sulu," Chekov said. "Ah. Okay. See you planetside?" Sulu asked hopefully. "Doubtlessly," Chekov replied, and batted his eyelashes. Pricktease, Sulu thought as he left sickbay. --- The pleasure gardens, Sulu thought, were boring. They would not be boring, he thought, if he was with someone. But he was quite obviously alone. Turning a corner, he quickly averted his eyes from Nyota who had obviously found a playmate. Dejected, he left and headed for his hotel. As he rode the lift, he was further depressed by the presence of a triad of Tilorians who were obviously on their honeymoon. Sulu now had a distinct unfondness for Tilorians, which made their happiness doubly -- or was it triply? -- annoying. Sighing, he keyed open the door to his hotel room, and stopped short. There, splayed on his bed, was a very naked Ensign Chekov. "Miss me?" Chekov asked coquettishly. "Er..." Sulu replied. Chekov rose from the bed and advanced purposefully. "I missed you," Chekov said. He reached forward and wrapped his arms around Sulu, drawing their bodies tightly together. Hooking a leg behind Sulu's knees, he began to grind his pelvis rhythmically. "Uh. I thought you were mad at me?" Sulu said after Chekov released him from their first rather breathless kiss. "I was." Chekov looked at Sulu, his eyes heavy- lidded. "And you're not anymore?" Sulu asked, unable to keep his own hips from gyrating in time. "Obviously not." "Back there in the bar," Sulu asked breathlessly, "the whole thing was a setup?" "Sulu, do you always talk so much?" Chekov asked exasperatedly. "No. I just..." "Just save it for later, yes?" Chekov sighed deeply as Sulu opened his mouth to ask yet another question. Fortunately, there was an easy way for him to cut him off. "Sulu, you will not speak unless it's to say 'yes, I like that,' or 'no, I don't like that.'" Chekov said, once the kiss had ended. "Do you understand?" Sulu nodded, glassy-eyed. "Good." Unwinding his arms from around the pilot, Chekov drew him towards the bed and positioned Sulu against the pillows. "I've learned quite a few things since my last shoreleave." --- The End