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Interruptions

By Skazitelnitsky

Inspired by a Mycchal's "Paybacks"

"If you say that things could be worse once more," Chekov warned, "I may be forced to kill you."

Sulu only smiled. "And how would you do that?"

The ensign took a moment to consider his options. Given their positions, the options were somewhat limited. "I could bite open your jugular vein..."

"Wouldn't you drown in my blood, though?"

"Perhaps," Chekov conceded. "However, that might be a risk I would be willing to take."

"Oh."

"I could smash my forehead against yours until I fractured your skull...."

"I can see you've been putting some thought into this."

Chekov squinted his eyes speculatively. "Although it might be more efficient to direct the force of my impact against your nose. Shards of bone could penetrate into the brain..."

"Okay, okay," the lieutenant interrupted. "I get the point. I didn't realize I was getting on your nerves so badly."

The ensign sighed heavily. "If only my nerves were all you were on."

"Sorry." The lieutenant shifted his weight as much as the restraints binding his wrists and ankles to the four posts of the hotel bed would allow him. "Is that any better?"

"No." Chekov replied ungratefully. Being handcuffed to the headboard and footboard of a bed with a grown man spread-eagled on top of him wasn't doing wonders for the Russian's disposition.

"Sorry." Sulu repeated. "Guess I'm starting to feel pretty heavy to you."

The Russian sighed peevishly. "I begin to understand why some women dislike sex."

At the mere mention of the word, the lieutenant stiffened -- in more ways than one. He and his helm partner exchanged a glance which -- considering the fact that their faces were mere inches apart -- was fairly unavoidable.

"No talking about sex," they agreed in unison.

The Enterprise officers pondered an appropriate alternate topic for a few silent moments.

"Well.." Sulu began brightly.

"Things could be worse?" Chekov guessed.

"At least we both used the john in the restaurant before we left."

"No talking about using the toilet either," the ensign decided.

Since this was probably also a very wise request, Sulu was once more at a loss for something to say.

Chekov sighed again and the lieutenant had to make a very determined effort to not think about how pleasantly ticklish the sensation of the ensign's hairy chest moving under his was.

"They'll both be women," the Russian predicted pessimistically.

Sulu didn't have to ask what he was talking about. Chekov had requested a six hour pass to visit the shore leave facilities at Phoebus IV. He'd only wanted to visit a few bars, eat a good meal and perhaps take in a show. At one of those bars, he'd met up with Sulu -- who had a three day pass and a hotel room. The meeting proved unlucky for the navigator when it turned out that an unknown assailant had been waiting for the two friends when they'd stopped by Sulu's room to change for dinner. As best as they could reconstruct, the intruder had stunned them and confiscated their uniforms, communicators and currency. In a bizarre twist of humor, the thief (or thieves) had stacked his (or her) unconscious and naked victims on the room's bed and handcuffed them into a rather... inconvenient position one atop the other.

The room's chronometer was out of their sightlines, but figuring they'd been out an average amount of time for a phaser-type weapon's heavy stun setting, the two estimated that Chekov's six hour pass was near or past expiration. When the navigator failed to report to the ship on time, Security would automatically initiate a search. If standard procedure was followed, a pair of guards would show up to check Sulu's room just as soon as they were able to pinpoint that as the ensign's last known destination.

And if the navigator's luck for the night kept running the way it had been during his visit to Phoebus, then yes, those two guards would probably turn out to be female or some other combination of identities and personalities guaranteed to maximize the embarrassment factor of the situation.

"Don't worry about it," Sulu counseled. "Whoever finds us will surely have seen situations far worse than this."

"Worse, yes," Chekov agreed. "More amusing, no."

"Well..."

"And you know that one of them is going to say, 'Are we interrupting something?'"

"Well..." Since he couldn't deny the likelihood of the Russian's prediction, the lieutenant decided another change of subject was in order. "At least this won't be the most embarrassing predicament I've ever been caught in."

"It won't be?"

"No, there was the time that I got caught in the Botany lab with...." Sulu stopped himself as soon as he realized he was broaching one of their taboo subjects.

Chekov groaned miserably and squeezed his eyes closed as if that could stop his automatic physical reaction to whatever memory or image the helmsman's comment had conjured. "I thought we agreed not to talk about sex."

"Sorry." The lieutenant wasn't having much luck controlling his own response.

"Talk about the most un-erotic thing you can think of," the ensign ordered.

"Tellurites?" Sulu suggested, although the sensation of the navigator's erection hardening against his own was far from unpleasant.

The image of ill-tempered, pig-snouted humaniods surprisingly enough did not have the desired effect. In fact, the suggestion only seemed to make the situation more acute.

"Tellurites turn you on?"

Chekov's cheeks reddened even more deeply. "No, not usually. But I happened to see a video recently... one of Ensign Bergman's..."

Bergman's porn stash was an underground legend among the Enterprise's junior officers. No one over the rank of second lieutenant was officially supposed to know anything about them. Sulu raised an eyebrow.

"Someone replaced a comparative anatomy text I was reviewing," the ensign explained. "A practical joke, I assume."

"But you watched it anyway?" Sulu said, unable to resist the urge to make the navigator squirm -- metaphorically and literally.

Chekov shrugged. "The film did contain a good deal of footage illustrating fascinating differences in comparative anatomy."

The lieutenant fought to suppress a giddy urge to giggle. "I never realized you were such a passionate student of Life Sciences."

"This isn't funny."

"Funny" was not precisely the word Sulu would have chosen to describe his take on the situation at the moment. Deciding it would be better to keep his adjective choices to himself, he said, "My neck is starting to hurt again. Mind if I rest my head on your shoulder?"

"I can't stop you," the ensign replied sourly.

"I know you can't. I'm asking if you mind."

Chekov rolled his eyes. "Go ahead."

The ensign's skin was deliciously soft and warm against the lieutenant's cheek. Chekov smelled of vodka and aftershave... And was apparently still thinking about Bergman's video.

"Oh, God," he was muttering under his breath.

"Shhhh," the helmsman soothed. "Just relax."

"You act as though you're enjoying this," the ensign accused.

Sulu wondered if the navigator could feel him smiling against his shoulder. "Let's just say I feel extraordinarily close to you right now."

"Oh, God."

The lieutenant raised his head and turned back toward him. "Chekov," he asked impulsively, "are you really that uncomfortable, or are you as turned on by this as I am and afraid to admit it?"

The Russian's eyes went wide. "I.. I.. I.." he stammered. "You... I... You can't possibly..."

The lieutenant cut off his helm partner's attempted protests with a kiss. Chekov's lips were parted, but Sulu couldn't tell if it was from shock or acceptance.

After a moment, the navigator turned his head to the side, sliding his mouth out from under the helmsman's. "Sulu..." he said, in rather dazed sounding voice. "We will still have to work together after this, you know."

Sensory input from between his legs told the lieutenant that his partner wasn't completely repelled by his advances. "That isn't going to bother me," he whispered, gently touching the tip of his tongue to the lobe of the Russian's right ear. "And I'm thinking of some very interesting ways we can work together right now."

He let his tongue glide over the ridges of the navigator's ear in a slowly tightening circle. The man beneath him trembled as the helmsman's tongue slid into his ear canal, perhaps experiencing sympathetic sensations in other orifices of his body.

"I... " he gasped softly. "I've never..."

"But you want to right now," Sulu purred. "Don't you?"

"I..."

The helmsman reproved his hesitant partner with a playful bite on his earlobe. "Don't you?"

Apparently not trusting his voice, the navigator nodded.

Sulu teased Chekov's lips back towards his with insistent little kisses to the corner of his mouth. Just when it seemed the Russian was on the verge of complete surrender, the door opened.

"Are we interrupting something?"

Chekov's prediction had only been half right. Only one of the grinning Enterprise security guards was a female.

"Actually..." Sulu began.

"Have you apprehended the person who robbed us, yet?" Chekov interrupted hastily.

"Not yet." Crewman Hayes replied, unlocking the handcuffs restraining them as Ensign Talmage broke out her tricorder and scanned for evidence. "We'll have them soon, though. They ditched the communicators, but there's been reports of perpetrators in Star Fleet uniforms holding up liquor stores in the area. We'll probably have them before they have time to drink up their loot."

Sulu didn't move to take advantage of his newly gained freedom. He remained protectively on top of his partner. "Could you two give us a little privacy for a few moments, please?"

Hayes glanced at Talmage, who shrugged and flipped her tricorder closed. "I've got all the data I'm going to need."

"Okay." Hayes clicked open the last set of handcuffs binding the navigator's ankles to the footboard. "Do whatever you need to do. Chekov, the captain wants you to stay where you are for the night. He wants you to stick around so you can talk to the local authorities in the morning if they need you." The security man paused at the doorway and smirked. "Of course you don't have to stay exactly where you are... unless you want to."

"Thanks and get the hell out," Sulu replied pleasantly. When the door hissed shut, he rolled off the navigator. "Well," he said, massaging the muscles in Chekov's arms that he knew had to be as cramped as his own. "That didn't go as badly as you thought it would, now did it?"

"Could have been worse," the navigator admitted weakly, keeping his eyes fastened on the ceiling. He seemed to have gone limp... all over. "Sulu..." he said, finally gaining the courage to turn to his helm partner.

"Shhhhh." The helmsman worked his way down to another part of the ensign's body that seemed in obvious need of massage as well. "Now, let me see... Where were we before we were so rudely interrupted?"

"I..." The navigator's tone sounded like the beginning of a protest.

Sulu waited to see if any other part of the ensign's body was going to register an objection. Feeling none, he continued to rub the now very, very rigid muscle underneath his hand.

"I..." Chekov's voice caught as the helmsman playfully brushed the tips of their rock hard erections against each other. He turned to his helm partner urgently. "I thought they would never leave."