A/N: Hola mishamigos! J2 got me good- wait, not that's one of Misha's tweets. Sorry. Anyway, welcome to the first chapter of my Sulu/Chekhov one shot collection (Do they have a ship name?)! So basically, this is a collection of stories ranging from the time they get together until death do they part. I will try to update reguarly, but no promises because I am running a play and I have to work and school, so things pile up. I hope you enjoy!
Pavel Chekhov spent a lot of his time and energy on his best friend, HIkaru Sulu. Hikaru got most of his joy from Pavel. There was rarely a moment that the two spent apart. They practically live attached to each other. When asked Kirk will recall the time that he found them tangled up on Chekhov's bed after watching the marathon of some old show called Doctor Who. The rest of the crew would recount similar tails of the two's adorable and, as Spock puts it, illogical attachment. They were inseparable in every way. It was only natural that they would fall in love.
Pavel Chekhov spent a lot of his time and energy trying to hide his feelings from his best friend, Hikaru Sulu. Hikaru got most of his joy from watching Chekhov blush every time he even looked in the younger's general direction. Chekhov knew better than to love someone that he worked with, but alas, as he states, "Love is a chemical reaction that sends messages to the brain telling it to like people who it shouldn't like." Translation, love is a bitch.
Pavel was a naturally awkward boy. He spent most of his time thinking about things that he couldn't explain to anyone, save Kirk and Spock. Often he found himself shying away from social interaction with anyone but Sulu and the Captain who often snuck him shots of vodka underneath the vulcan's deathly regulation. He never dreamed in a million years that he would profess his love to his friend that obviously did not love him back. Alas, I must state again, love is a bitch.
When you ask Scotty, he will describe it as the most monumental hook up of the modern day. He was sitting at the bar with Sulu the night before their first shore leave of the Enterprise's five year mission. They were both exhausted, having struggled to get in their last few hours before they were officially off duty. Kirk insisted that the entire bridge crew go to the bar and get a drink on him, they having done such a tremendous job those last few months. Sulu quickly dragged the Schott to the bar and ordered them the finest Scotch in the house.
Most of the girls got tired of flirting with the bridge crew men (and women, on occasion) after the first few tries, but one engineer insisted on bugging Sulu until he was passionately and forever hers.
Unfortunately for that certain engineer, Chekhov had just gotten off shift with the Captain and had just walked onto the deck when she began her usual flirt routine. Kirk chuckled to the boy's let.
"You've got some competition, champ." Kirk was the only one who knew about the Navigator's crush, Chekhov having come to him one evening exclaiming 'Love has struck my heart with its unforgiving arrow and it directed me towards HIkaru Sulu.' the boy should have been a poet, not an engineer. Since then, Kirk had done little things to get the two together. He sat them right next to each other during meetings and had them put on the same away teams. His personal favorite was buying them three seasons of Doctor Who, as well as the first five of a show called Supernatural that they had to watch. They were cooped up in Sulu's quarters for days on end.
Chekhov burned a bright red, but made no movement to approach Sulu.
"Oh don't be a sissy, Pav," Kirk said after a moment, "he is right there and you have been waiting to tell him for, like, ever. Go," with a little nudge, Chekhov began walking towards Sulu. He stopped at the bar to order a grape soda and sat down next to his best friend. The women clad in engineer red was in between Chekhov and his target, and his courage was growing thin. 'This is just a computer,' he told himself. 'You just have to wire it right.' That's when he heard it. That one sentence. Four little words uttered from the perfectly lined lips of the unfortunate girl standing between Chekhov and Sulu.
"So my quarters, right?"
Chekhov froze. Anger swelled inside of his chest. How dare she? How dare she even think about thinking about inviting his Hikaru to her quarters? Without even thinking, Pavel pushed past the unfortunate girl and crashed into his pilot's arms. For the first time in a long time, Chekhov felt as though he didn't have to hide from Sulu. He could do anything, say anything and it would be alright.
That's why he kissed him.
It wasn't hard, or passionate, or even sexy. It was simply a gentle exchange of love between the two as they fought the flirtatious engineer. Chekhov pulled back and rested his forehead against his Hikaru's and opened his eyes. Sulu was smiling. Not the fake smile that boys wear to impress people, but his real, lopsided smile.
"What took you so long?" He asked. Pavel heard Kirk whoop in the background walk over.
"Sorry, Honey," he said to the girl, "but, I think that's a no." The girl stood for a good ten seconds more before whispering 'oh' and hurrying out of the room.
Secretly, Sulu had known about Chekhov's crush from the very first night. Kirk thought that it was in the best interest to tell Sulu his exact words (seriously, poetry) to see if the feeling was mutual. Sulu cursed a few times in Korean and eventually said, 'Yeah love seems to be doing a lot of that lately.'
Needless to say, Pavel Chekhov and Hikaru Sulu were seen by no one for the rest of shore leave.
A/N: So, thoughts? Please review and favorite and all that jazz. Expect another chapter within the next few days. Love you all, and thanks!