Disclaimer;; Do not own Star Trek.
Chekov wrinkled his brow and pushed his not very legal glass of whiskey away. His table mates did not notice, continuing on with their banter and celebration. Today was Sulu's birthday and Kirk had arranged for a party in the rec room. It had somehow morphed from a birthday party to a 'let everybody hook up' party, which was why the young Russian genius was is such a foul mood.
Spock and the always lovely Uhura had of course come together, presenting the head pilot with a lavish
potted plant. Chekov had felt embarrassed as Sulu opened the extravagant gifts his friends had gotten him. The navigator had little funds and could not produce something that he felt was up to standard, so instead of giving something pathetic he had opted out of the traditional present. Rather he was going to tell his feelings to the pilot, or, that had been the plan.
What was the saying?Ah yes; To think too long about doing a thing often becomes its undoing.
As Sulu had opened the last present, Kevin Riley, the navigator for beta shift, announced he had not given him his gift. The Lieutenant had stepped up to Sulu, grabbed him by the shoulders, and kissed him. While the rest of the crowd cheered them into making out, Chekov had slunk over to the nearest replicator and ordered a drink, any drink, which was how he ended up with the whiskey.
Soon almost every one at the party had managed to get themselves a date and the room had turned into what would later be described as 'a-not-orgy'. Only Chekov and Scotty were not pawing at someone's clothes; Chekov for his heartbrokenness and wishing to drown himself in a drink he did not particularly care for and Scotty because there were an even amount of people in the room. Eventually some one had grown hungry and demanded the cake to be cut and that is where Chekov was now. Sitting at a table with the senior bridge crew and their 'dates', trying not to look at Sulu perched on Riley's lap.
"You know what we forgot?" The Irishman suddenly shouted, drawing everyone's, except Chekov's, attention to him. "The song!" Everyone, save Chekov and Spock, laughed and a very choppy, very drunken rendition of 'Happy Birthday, Sulu.' began.
Chekov tried to ignore it, he really did. He thought of astrophysics and mapped out the constellation Hydra in his mind's eye, but nothing seemed to distract him from the way Riley's hand was making its way underneath Sulu's shirt and up his chest. When the pilot arched his back slightly during the third 'Birthday', Chekov could not stand it. He stood and half walked half stumbled from the room, doubting anyone would notice or care if they did. He went to observation lounge a few doors down. He plopped himself down in the nearest chair and placed his glass, which he had grabbed on the way out, on the table with a 'clink.'
Blue-grey eyes stared into the vast expanse of space, thoughts drifting.
He had been infatuated with Sulu since he had met him. He was one of the few people who did not treat Chekov as a child. He allowed Chekov to ramble excitedly about inane things like warp factors and how Kirk had pronounced his named correctly today. Sulu was a good friend, no, his best friend. Nothing was ever awkward and they enjoyed the same things, and most of all, each other's company. It was inevitable that Chekov would fall for him. He did not even realize he was attracted to boys until he had seen Sulu tear off his shirt during fencing practice. Actually, if he thought about it, he wasn't attracted to males, just Sulu. The pilot was brilliant without coming off as 'I am smarter than you.', sure of himself but not cocky, and handsome in a different sort of way.
Chekov wondered if Sulu and Riley would be a happy couple. He knew they shared time at the helm together but had never seen them interact while off duty. Chekov concluded that they might have spent time together; after all, he was not with Sulu twenty-four hours a day. He hoped they would be happy; he didn't know if he could take it if Sulu was sad. He hoped they would be happy, as long as he didn't have to watch.
Chekov lifted the glass of amber liquid to the stars, a toast to their future happiness and his misery and drained the whiskey in one gulp. It burned and tasted disgusting but warmed his belly and made him feel slightly fuzzy. It wasn't vodka, but it would do.
He had no idea how long he sat in the dark before Scotty walked through the doors holding two glasses and a rectangular glass bottle filled with the Scot's favourite drink. He said nothing as he watched the Chief Engineer pour two glasses and set one in front of the Russian. Scotty batted his hand away when Chekov reached from the drink, giving him a glare. Chekov pouted and waited.
Scotty picked up the glass Chekov had been drinking from before and sniffed it, pulling a face. "Just as I thought, American and synthetic." He tossed it over his shoulder and it shattered against the wall. "Lad, if ya are goin' to wallow, you should at least be doin' it properly." He took the seat across from Chekov, blocking the Ensign's view of the passing starlight.
"I am not wallowing." Scotty gave a hardy laugh and shook his head.
"An' I'm the Queen of England. Now drink up an' tell ole Scotty what's got your trousers in a knot." Chekov picked up the glass and drank it like the one before. He choked slightly as he swallowed.
"This..this is real!" He sputtered, eying the bottle that sat so innocently on the table.
"Of course it's real! Brewed it meself! Don't be tryin' to tell me you ain't got some real Russian vodka holed up in your room." Chekov felt his cheeks colour. "Come on now, tell me why you stormed out of that lovely party. It wasn' the singin', was it?"
Chekov shook his head, trying not to smile at the joke. "No, not the singing, though, that was dreadful." Scotty laughed and poured Chekov another a glass. "I could not bear watching it any longer." Scotty nodded and took a long sip from his own glass. Chekov took the hint and sipped at the whiskey.
"Couldn' watch Riley and Sulu anymore, ya mean?" Chekov stared at him, the glass still at his lips. "Don' worry, it wasn' obvious. Just know how to recognize what ya going through yourself, ya know?" Chekov nodded weakly, still looking a bit frightened. "Do ya love him?" The Russian blinked in surprise.
"I..I do not know what love feels like, so I am unsure." Scotty hummed and took another drink.
"Do ya get butteflies when he smiles? Can he make your bad day go away jus' by sayin' 'Hi'? Does he make ya feel good 'bout yourself? An' most of important of all; if he was happy with some one else, would ya be happy for him and not try to ruin it?"
"Da..yes. Yes. I never want to see Hikaru sad." Chekov answered without hesitation. For a moment, Scotty gave a sort of sad smile, but it was gone as he raised his glass with a grin.
"Then by the power invested in me by this here glass o' scotch, I declare ya in love with one Mister Lieutenant Hikaru Sulu." They clinked their glasses together and drank.
They were silent for a long while, Chekov leaning a bit to the side to stare out into the stars and Scotty watching the wall.
"Do you think I will ever have a chance?" He asked slowly, eyes glancing over to the Scot.
"Lad, you could have a snowball's chance in hell but you should never give up and don' stop lovin' him. It's the greatest thing ya could do for someone, even if they don' know ya love them."
Chekov grinned at Scotty and spent the rest of the night toasting to unrequited love, birthdays, whiskey, and the happiness of everyone aboard the Enterprise.