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Assertiveness
By Skazitelnitsky
"So how's every little thing?" Uhura asked innocently enough as she took a seat across from her favorite helmsman in the Officer's Lounge.
"Fine." Sulu looked up and noticed a look in his friend's eye that tended to mean trouble for someone.
"Everything?" she pursued, handing him a fresh cup of coffee.
He accepted it warily. "Yeah."
"Even your new love affair that I'm not supposed to know about?"
The helmsman sighed. One simply could not keep secrets from a good communications officer. After taking a quick glance around to check that none of the room's other occupants were being overly attentive, he confessed, "Yes. Off the record, that's fine too."
She put her elbows on the table and folded her hands into a classic 'Let's talk' posture. "Just 'fine' or 'really fine'?"
Sulu shrugged. "Just really fine."
Uhura raised her eyebrows. "Problems already?"
"No." The lieutenant was surprised at how much confidence his answer lacked.
"Hmmm." The Communications Officer mulled this reaction over like a doctor trying to reach a diagnosis. "Different than you expected?"
"A little," Sulu admitted. "Don't get me wrong -- it's great but..."
"But?"
"He's not..." The helmsman struggled for the right word. "...assertive."
"Really?" Uhura blinked. "You mean our boy doesn't like it on top?"
"Shhhh," Sulu cautioned. "I don't know if he does or not. He hasn't shown any interest. I think it might be my fault. I came on really strong at the start of this and I've been... I don't know... enjoying babying him, teaching him..."
"So he was as inexperienced as we thought he was?"
"I was boldly going where no man had gone before," Sulu confirmed. "It's not like I don't enjoy being in control, but he doesn't initiate anything. I'm beginning to feel like the whole thing's all me -- That I pushed him into this and I'm forcing him to stay."
"Hmmm." Uhura steepled her fingers thoughtfully. "Have you talked to the boy?"
The helmsman sighed. It felt good to finally verbalize the difficulty that had been nagging him for the past two weeks. However it also hurt to admit there was anything wrong with the perfect relationship he'd dreamed of for so long and worked so hard to set into motion. "If I tell him to be more assertive, even if he does it, he's not really being assertive, he's just doing what I tell him."
"Hmmm," the Communications Officer repeated.
"Have I already screwed this up?" the helmsman asked miserably.
"Sh sh sh." Uhura held up two silencing fingers. "Hmmmm," she repeated, drawing the sound out with judicial weight. "When you're with him, and it's time to get it on, do you wait for him to come to you, or do you pounce?"
A large lightbulb seem to go on inside the helmsman's brain. "Ahhh," he groaned, letting his head fall back against the back of his chair. "I pounce," he confessed to the heavens. "I always pounce. I pounce frequently. I pounce consistently. I am pouncing the relationship to death."
Uhura folded her hands. "Then what you need to do is..."
"Not pounce?" Sulu made a face as he considered this option. "That's going to be hard..."
She silenced his objection with a click of her tongue and a wave of her hand.
"Okay..." he agreed reluctantly. "But what if he feels rejected? Thinks I'm mad at him? Thinks I'm manipulating him? Thinks I don't love him?"
"You've got to give him a chance," the Communications Officer said sternly. "Either you're serious about making this work or you aren't."
"I'm serious," the helmsman assured her.
"Good. Then don't pounce," she instructed sternly. "Don't worry about how he's going to react. Wait and see how he reacts. And in the end, if all else fails -- and only then -- remember you can always just fuck him and try again another time."
"Okay," Sulu agreed, taking in a deep breath. "I think I can live with that."
The most difficult thing to do when one is running a mantra of 'Don't pounce' in one's head, Sulu discovered later in his cabin, is to try to sustain small talk. Chekov had only given him a strange look when asked, "How was your day?" When one sits a few inches away from a conversation partner for an eight hour duty shift, the conversation partner expects one to already have a pretty damn good idea of how his day was.
They'd lapsed into silence. Chekov was reclining on the lieutenant's bunk ('Looking particularly pounceable,' Sulu's brain commented. 'Shut up, brain,' the lieutenant commanded.) reviewing a completed report he planned to turn in to Mr. Spock the next morning. He had taken off his boots ('He has such cute little feet,' Sulu's brain sighed. 'Not now,' the lieutenant pleaded.) and tunic and was wearing a black t-shirt ('He looks so sexy in black,' Sulu's brain observed. 'You're not winning any friends here, brain,' the lieutenant warned.). The ensign seemed to have forgotten the half glass of vodka he was holding.
Sulu had chosen ice water, hoping to keep a clear head. He was chewing discontentedly on a cube when an idea hit him. "Would you like another drink?" he offered, rising.
As Sulu knew he would, Chekov immediately drained his glass and held it out. "Yes," the Russian said, smiling a warm, sexy, come-hither smile. "Please."
'Bastard,' the lieutenant thought, gritting his teeth as he turned to the replicator.
"Could I have a gin and tonic?" the ensign requested unexpectedly.
On the Russian's lips ('Oh, those lips!' his brain effused. 'Get stuffed,' the lieutenant suggested.) 'gin and tonic' sounded like the most exotic drink ever concocted by man.
"Okay," the helmsman said, sounding surprizingly amiable to his own ears. "Didn't know you liked gin and tonics."
"I don't know if I do," the ensign confessed. "I'm in the mood to try something different tonight."
Sulu sharply reprimanded his heart which fluttered frantically at these words. It didn't necessarily mean anything. Maybe having a drink without vodka in it was the ensign's idea of walking on the wild side.
"Now, don't try to drink it all at once," he advised crossing to the bunk and handing Chekov a tall glass.
The Russian blinked at him. "Why?"
"Well, I guess you can if you want to," he amended, realizing once that he was lapsing into imposing his will on the ensign. "But most people like to sip a gin and tonic."
Chekov took this under advisement and after a small experimental swallow, put the drink aside. "Would you mind reading my report?" he asked, gesturing for the lieutenant to join him.
('No. Would you mind sucking my...' Sulu's brain retorted. 'Watch it,' the lieutenant interrupted.)
"Sure." The helmsman sat down on the bunk and pulled up the arm of the reader.
"Most of this is routine. However, if I make this conjecture..." Chekov reached around the lieutenant's shoulder to tap the screen. "Is it reasonable for me to draw this conclusion?"
"Well," Sulu answered slowly, somewhat distracted by the way the navigator was leaning casually against his back. "It depends on how you support the claim."
Keeping his pointing hand resting comfortably on the lieutenant's shoulder, the ensign reached around with his other hand to page down. "There," he said, clasping his hands across the helmsman's chest. He propped his chin endearingly on Sulu's shoulder. "Is that sufficient?"
('No, but it's a start,' his brain replied rudely. 'Shut up,' the lieutenant hushed. 'I'm not sure, but I think I'm being seduced here.')
"Yeah," he said, completing a cursory inspection of the data, before turning to look full into those liquid brown eyes. "I'd buy it."
Chekov's gaze dropped slowly from the helmsman's eyes to his lips. Moving in a manner so unhurried as to make the movement of tectonic plates look frenzied, the ensign's embrace tightened. He pulled the lieutenant into a leisurely kiss.
('By George, I am being seduced,' the lieutenant chortled. 'This is how you would seduce a girl,' his brain sneered. 'He's going with what he knows,' the lieutenant defended. 'Besides you haven't had a seduction that didn't begin with "Wanna..." and end one way or another shortly afterwards in so long, you don't remember feels like.')
The kiss began mildly, but with considerable heat. Sulu concentrated on staying passive. He felt like the seventeen year old coquette he'd never been.
Chekov broke the kiss, pushed the arm of the reader out of the way, and then turned to his partner with one of his 'This is mega-serious business' looks.
Sulu was so turned on he had to suppress the urge to giggle.
Kissing him about the throat, the navigator began to coax the helmsman out of his clothes. Sulu obligingly pretended that he needed coaxing.
After discarding the balance of his own garments, the ensign gave his partner another commanding look.
Biting his lip to keep from grinning, the lieutenant obediently rolled over onto his stomach. The muscles in his back clenched and quivered with delight as Chekov slowly ran his tongue down his spine. A caressing hand grasped his buttocks as the navigator paused to give special attention to a freckle or two on his way.
The agonizingly gentle touch left the lieutenant's body for a moment. Long fingers returned coated with gel to stroke his cleft. Moaning gratefully, the helmsman spread his legs and arched to facilitate their intrusion.
Sulu's eyes rolled back in his head as he was explored -- carefully and meticulously. It was almost as if the ensign were searching for something...
An electric bolt of sensation coursed through the helmsman causing him to buck against his partner's hand when the navigator located the tiny gland. Chekov stilled him with one hand, and then sent another bolt through him the same way -- probably just to verify that the first result hadn't been a fluke.
'I feel like a Science project,' Sulu thought briefly, as the navigator brought him up onto his knees.
Science, however, had never offered the lieutenant anything to compare with the sensation of the navigator entering him and beginning to search with a different instrument for what his fingers had found.
All the deliberate ponderousness that had characterized the ensign's foreplay was now discarded. His thrusts were breathtakingly rapid and sure.
Between gasps, Sulu realized that he was no longer pretending to let his partner control the situation. Chekov was now inarguably in command.
As if in response to this thought, the navigator deliberately slowed his drive, plunging with professional accuracy down the course he'd charted earlier.
Sulu bit his lip as his lover's thrusts stroked his prostate. He didn't want to climax first.
After a few more adept thrusts, the lieutenant realized that choice was no longer his to make.
He wailed with agonized delight as every muscle in his body clenched and released in a sudden surge of truly galactic force... And then gasped in disbelief as this body-quake of pleasure re-errupted when his partner gave a final thrust spilling warm release inside him.
Sulu remained rooted in place for several moments afterwards, gasping and trembling. He couldn't decided if he were more astonished by the physical or mental impact of what had just happened. Few lovers had ever made him come in that position at all. No one had ever made him come twice in a row using any technique.
"I told you I was in the mood to try something different." Chekov kissed his neck as he gently withdrew. "I hope you don't mind my little experiment."
"Uh, no," the lieutenant answered, still dazed and beginning to hope he'd remain that way forever. "You gotta learn something new every day."
Sulu remained transcendently pleased with himself until the next afternoon when he happened to come around a corner just in time to see his helmpartner talking to the ship's chief communications officer.
"Thank you," he thought he heard his lover say to his most trusted relational advisor before giving her a swift kiss on the forehead. "It worked."
