schweinsty (schweinsty) wrote in ficcy_fic,


Title: Sleepwalking
Fandom: Star Trek XI
Rating: G/PG
Word Count: 980
Summary: Chekov sleepwalks. Somehow, he always ends up in Sulu's bed.
A.N: Written for this prompt on the kink meme.


The first night, Sulu wakes up when his door slides open and the muted light from the hall hits his face.

Framed in the doorway is a slight figure clad in well-worn t-shirt and boxers that Sulu would recognize anywhere.

"Chekov? Is something wrong?"

Chekov stands, silent, for a good twenty seconds before he steps inside, closes the door, and walks over and flops down on the bed.

As Sulu was already sitting up to see what was wrong, Chekov lands awkwardly, his face in Sulu's lap and his legs hanging off the bed.

It only takes one shoulder shake for Sulu to realize that Chekov is fast asleep (and drooling on his crotch). So, naturally, Sulu leans down and blows in Chekov's ear to see if that will wake him.

It does. Very violently. Chekov snaps up with a strangled 'Augh!' and his head collides with Sulu's nose with a loud crunch.

By the time M'Benga puts the finishing touches on the bandages on Sulu's face, Chekov has fallen asleep on one of the sick bay beds, and Sulu doesn't have it in him to wake the kid up.

The second time, Sulu can't sleep (because it's been a long, hard day, and criminals are easier to quiet than consciences) and is heading out for a midnight snack when he opens the door to find Chekov standing outside, rewiring the door controls.

He barely has time for a muttered "Pavel?" before Chekov replaces the control panel, snakes past him, and curls up on the messed-up covers, arms snaking around the pillow that's still warm from use.

Sulu watches him for a minute before he goes to wake him up. Chekov looks so - wholesome. Fresh, even though there are bags under his eyes and bruises on his neck and wrists. The kid could use some sleep - he's probably gotten less than Sulu, lately - and it's not like Sulu hasn't fantasized about having Chekov share his bed before (though, usually, Chekov neither sleeping nor wearing a novelty t-shirt - Marathoners do it with stamina - and threadbare I ♥ St. Petersburg boxers).

But people talk, and much as Sulu might fantasize, he's pretty sure that Chekov doesn't, so Sulu pats Chekov's back and nudges Chekov's shoulder (at arm's length, with his face turned well away) until Chekov wakes up with a yawn and a bleary "What am I doing here?"

Sulu chuckles and manhandles him down to the sick bay. It's a long walk, and Sulu wonders if the floor is cold under Chekov's bare feet. Sulu puts his arm around Chekov's shoulders, and halfway down, Chekov puts his arm around Sulu's waist, slips it lower so his hand rests on Sulu's hip and the inside of his forearm rubs against the dip of Sulu's spine.

Dr. McCoy keeps Pavel overnight for observation, and Pavel sits on the gurney obediently, legs dangling over the edge and fingers fisting over the metal bars. As Sulu walks out, Pavel looks at him, just for a second, and it almost looks like longing, but that can't possibly be right.

Sulu's bed feels empty that night.

The third time, Pavel knocks on his door and stands still, arms folded over his chest, until Sulu limps over and opens it.

"I woke up," Pavel says, gesturing towards the hallway.

"I see." Sulu doesn't move (he's pretty sure Pavel is just going to apologize for waking him and go back to bed), and then Pavel's eyes dart back and forth, and his tongue darts out and wets his lips and he gulps.

"Can I - can I stay here?" He lets out a breath and lets his hands swing loosely at his side, curls them into fists until the knuckles are white and uncurls them again. "Yes. With you?"

Sulu doesn't process it for a minute, and then he thinks something bubble in his chest and spills into a tired grin that makes his face ache because of the bruising on his jaw, and yes, it's really Pavel standing there in front of him, and maybe Pavel's not the only one who's been sleepwalking.

Sulu steps aside and shrugs. 'I would like that very much,' he tries to say, except it somehow gets jumbled in between his brain and his mouth and comes out as "Sure," which is not very romantic, but then, Sulu thinks, Pavel is not a very romantic sort of person, so it's probably okay.

It's a bit awkward, at first; he and Pavel both say "Computer, lights" at the same time, so the lights flick off and on and off again. They don't fit perfectly against each other on the bed: it's small, for one, and Pavel might be scrawny but he's pretty damn bony, and they're both bruised and battered from the mission, and maybe Pavel accidentally snaps his elbow into Sulu's - Hikaru's - ribs (which hurts, because one is broken and the rest are a giant mass of pain), and maybe Hikaru accidentally-without-thinking grips Pavel's arm rather hard (which is bad, because Pavel's arm had a long gash running from elbow to shoulder not ten hours ago, and it might be mostly fixed but still hurts like a bitch), but eventually they settle in together, Pavel with his leg thrown over Hikaru's stomach (hot and kind of hairy where Hikaru's shirt rides up, but not overly uncomfortable), and Hikaru buries his nose in Pavel's hair (it smells like the standard-issue spearmint-scented shampoo most of the men on the ship use), and it's not unpleasant, being scrunched together like this.

And someplace in the middle of realizing that Pavel's drooling on his shoulder and wondering what the hell this means for the two of them (and then realizing he doesn't really care, because it's late and he's tired and this is really kind of nice), Hikaru drifts off.
Tags: character: hikaru sulu, character: pavel chekov, fandom: star trek xi, genre: slash

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