Title: Untitled Sulu/Chekov
By: carolinecrane
Pairing: Sulu/Chekov
Fandom: Star Trek (Reboot)
Rating: PG
Notes: For duckduck, because it's that kind of day. She requested a little more h/c, Sulu/Chekov-flavored this time. Michelle, I hope this is what you wanted. If not let me know and I'll try again later. Unbetaed for now, because it's time to go hoooome! Best part of the day.
I would have posted this as comment!fic (because let's face it, it is comment fic quality) but it got too long. Of course.
Summary: Sulu/Chekov, Sick Bay, and needless worry. PG. )***
He's still rubbing his neck at the spot where Dr. McCoy stuck him, slipping through the doors of Sick Bay before the medical staff can think of any other suspicious 'treatments' to try out on him. The corridor spins a little as he steps through the door, and he closes his eyes to steady himself. When a hand lands on his arm he opens them again, looking down to find Chekov blinking up at him with the same expression he gets whenever they run across hostile life forms in deep space.
"You are okay?"
"I'm fine," Sulu says, rolling his eyes to prove his point. Which turns out to be a bad idea, because the floor rolls under him a little when he does it. "Like I told you before you dragged me to Sick Bay to be tortured, there's nothing wrong with me."
"You are sure? You do not look fine," Chekov says, still clutching at Sulu's arm like he's afraid Sulu might fall over. And he might, but Chekov doesn't need to know that. Besides, he wasn't even dizzy before he got to Sickbay, so he's pretty sure whatever McCoy stuck him with is the culprit. "Perhaps you should go see the doctor again, just to be certain."
"No," Sulu says, the word coming out so forcefully that he sways a little in Chekov's grip. "I'm fine, Pavel, really. I just...maybe I'll lie down for awhile."
Chekov doesn't say anything, but he's chewing on his lip in that way that tells Sulu he's not going to stop worrying any time soon. It's ridiculous, because Sulu's fine -- aside from the whole dizziness thing, which he's positive now is McCoy's fault anyway -- but he knows from experience that arguing with Chekov will get him nowhere fast.
Anyway, the corridor's still swaying a little, so he doesn't shake out of Chekov's grip as they head toward the living quarters. He doesn't even argue when Chekov lets himself into Sulu's quarters, ushering him over to his bunk and helping him ease down onto the pillow. Once he's safely in bed Chekov lets go of his arm, but before Sulu has a chance to miss the contact his hand lands on Sulu's forehead, stroking through his hair as Chekov settles on the edge of the bunk.
"You don't have to stay," Sulu says, but his voice is low and he half-hopes Chekov won't hear him.
"It is my fault you are injured," Chekov says, fingers tracing the lines of Sulu's face now, and it's kind of weird, but it feels too good for Sulu to put up a fight. "I will stay."
"It's not your fault," Sulu says, forcing his eyes open and wow, whatever McCoy gave him is strong, because now the whole room's swaying back and forth, and he wants to lie down, but he's already flat on his back. "I offered to teach you to fence. Accidents happen."
He closes his eyes again and lets the room move around him, his bunk swaying back and forth as though he's on a boat at sea instead of hurtling through space on a starship. And this stuff better wear off fast, because he's the one who's supposed to be flying this starship in less than twelve hours.
Chekov's murmuring something above him, probably fretting about nearly giving Sulu a concussion. The truth is that Chekov just knocked the wind out of him, though, and if he'd just listened he would have seen that there was no need for a trip to Sick Bay, no need for crazy doctors and suspicious injections that left him feeling a lot weirder than before he got treated. But Chekov's beyond listening to reason, so Sulu just reaches up blindly until his hand closes around the front of Chekov's shirt.
He opens one eye to squint at Chekov as he pulls him forward, murmuring 'hold still' as he lifts himself off the pillow and lands a kiss somewhere in the vicinity of Chekov's mouth. He's nowhere near his target, but it shuts Chekov up anyway, and he turns into the kiss until their mouths are lined up perfectly. And that's nice, because the room's still swaying back and forth, but now Chekov's swaying with him, and when Sulu finally lets him up for air Chekov's stretched out on the bunk next to him.
"I am not moving," Chekov says, fingers back in Sulu's hair.
"What?"
"You said to hold still, but I am not moving."
Sulu frowns at him for a second, then he gives up on trying to work out what Chekov's talking about and closes his eyes. Chekov presses close to him, arm sliding around Sulu's waist and resting his head on Sulu's shoulder. Sulu lets out a sigh and turns into him, breathing in the scent of Starfleet-issue shampoo as he presses his face into soft curls. "Good."***