Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/585229.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Star_Trek:_Alternate_Original_Series_(Movies)
  Relationship:
      Pavel_Chekov/Hikaru_Sulu, Mirror_Pavel_Chekov/Mirror_Hikaru_Sulu
  Character:
      Pavel_Chekov, Mirror_Pavel_Chekov, Hikaru_Sulu, Mirror_Hikaru_Sulu
  Additional Tags:
      Rape, non-con, Stalking, Obsession, Aphrodisiacs, Drugged_Sex, Sex
      Pollen, Rejection, unrequited_feelings, Mirror_Universe, star_trek_mirror
      universe, POV_Villain
  Stats:
      Published: 2012-12-06 Chapters: 9/9 Words: 7991
****** Friend Is A Four-Letter Word ******
by asimaiyat
Summary
     Pavel wants Lt. Sulu to want him... but we can't always get what we
     want. From the ISS Enterprise Kinkmeme prompt by RubyNye: "In regular
     Trek fics, people stumble onto sex pollen. In the Mirror Universe, I
     imagine it would be used as a weapon." Mind the warnings, this one is
     dark.
***** I *****
Roman numerals are better because they have a clear structure and reason behind
them. If you think for some time about why 5 comes after 4, it does not make
any sense at all. You cannot predict it. However, when given I and II, any
sensible person might guess that the next numeral is III. Lieutenant Uhura has
mentioned that Chinese numerals work in a similar way, and this makes Pavel
feel pleased. He reminds himself that if she ever wants something from him, he
must have her teach him the Chinese numerals. Of course, the ISS Enterprise
computers are designed to use the Arabic numeral set that is most commonly used
with Imperial Standard, and there is no way to program them otherwise. Of
course, one cannot always have what one wants. Still, that is for on-duty work,
and when Pavel is doing calculations for any other reason (usually because he
is bored or tense or confused or angry or any other species of unpleasant
feeling, or because he wants something and is not yet sure of how to get it),
he uses his PADD and stylus, and writes in a combination of Roman numerals and
his own odd algebraic shorthand that, conveniently, no one else can read.
This is what Pavel happens to be doing on the occasion of his first real
conversation with Security Chief Hikaru Sulu. He hears a deep voice from above
him and behind, slightly to the right:
"What're you working on, Ensign?"
Pavel doesn't want to look up from his work, but he can see the officer's
insignia out of the corner of his eye, and he knows it would not do to be rude.
He meets the man's eyes and sees a face that is all clean, broad planes and
angles, only marred by an angry red scar across one cheekbone. "Stars," he
answers.
Sulu frowns in the way that means I'm not sure that you answered my question,
but it is remarkable how rarely people say that out loud. "Huh," he says
instead. "I guess I won't argue with results."
Pavel smiles but says nothing, although he does not want the conversation to
end. Sulu has a pleasant voice and face, and he seems to appreciate Pavel's
work. He is the first person Pavel has met since being assigned to the
Enterprise who seems like he could be easy (or even possible, really) to get
along with. Pavel wants to charm him, draw him closer.
"So, stars, huh?"
"Da, yes. Do you have a favorite star, Lieutenant?"
"You know, I haven't really thought about it. I guess Orion's Belt, because
that was the first constellation I learned when I was a kid. I remember
wondering why he didn't have his backup arrows stashed in there, let alone a
skinning knife... some hunter."
"Orion's Belt is three stars, though."
"Then I guess I don't have a favorite. I'll have to pick one." He smiles in a
lazy sort of way, which is asymmetrical and yet still appealing. It indicates
that he is enjoying the conversation but finds it a bit beneath him, a
distraction, maybe. Which is alright, because it is a distraction for Pavel,
too.
"You should tell me, when you do."
"Sorry?"
"When you pick a favorite. I would like it if you would tell me which it is."
He pauses for maybe half a minute before adding, "Sir."
Sulu leans down over Pavel's console and rests a muscular forearm against it.
The movement is easy and graceful; Pavel moves like a runner, which he once
was, but this man moves almost like a dancer. "You know," he says in a tone
that is mostly amused but faintly menacing, like the purr of an unfriendly cat.
"When it's just the two of us, you can call me Hikaru." Then Sulu smiles and
strides away.
There is a small part of Pavel's mind that does not like this, because it is
not right. It is not the way things happen, especially not in the Fleet, and
especially not to him. It is too easy, and too pleasant, and that means it is
probably dangerous or untrue. But the larger part of Pavel's brain ignores this
train of thought, because it is nothing more than a superstition, a false
interpretation of probability. The fact that something has not happened yet
does not preclude it happening ever. So Pavel goes back to his sums, and pushes
aside the little tug at his mind that says that something has been set out of
place.
***** II *****
It is common knowledge on the Enterprise that Hikaru Sulu prefers men. This is
good news to Pavel. Sulu is also known as a particularly passionate sadist, and
this is not particularly bad news to Pavel, who has decided that he wants to
have Sulu as a lover. The idea has both strategic and aesthetic appeal, but it
poses difficulties in implementation. Pavel has never seduced anyone on purpose
before, and while their work together on the bridge will easily convince Sulu
of the benefits of an alliance with someone of Pavel's tactical intelligence,
he will also undoubtedly realize that simply being liked by Pavel is enough to
convey the greater advantage. Which leads Pavel back to the question of
seduction. He knows that he has been called "pretty" in the past, and while in
those situations it did not work to his advantage, it might now. But he does
not know if Hikaru likes "pretty," let alone how to present himself for that
purpose. He quickly learns Sulu's shift schedule, figures out where he will be
at any given time, but this is merely an academic exercise because he has no
idea what to say.
Fortunately, Sulu seems to be taking the initiative in this matter. More and
more often, he approaches Pavel after his shift, asking him questions and
inviting him to spend small amounts of time together. That sinking feeling of
unreality persists, but Hikaru goes out of his way to mention a few Russian
Romantic composers of the nineteenth century whom he enjoys (Pavel has not
heard of them) and some Russian generals of the twentieth century whom he
admires (Pavel has all of their biographies in his personal computer), and as
he says these things his voice is low and rich, and Pavel tells himself that it
would be stupid to question good luck.
It has been almost two weeks since their first real conversation, and Hikaru
seems almost bashful when he lowers his voice, leans over the console, and says
"Hey, Pavel. I was thinking. I'd like to show you something that's very
important to me. It's a little embarrassing to explain, though, so it'll have
to be a surprise." He levels his eyes with Pavel's and holds out one hand, as
if Pavel is already beginning to follow after him, as he says "Come with me."
It is exactly the kind of vague request that you would have to be stupid to
trust, but this is a day (Stardate 2632.38) that Pavel will always remember as
a day of being stupidly trusting, and of course he goes.
Pavel follows Hikaru's fluid stride through corridors that he has never seen
before. He is a little afraid, and also excited, both states existing at once
until they arrive at their destination and they collapse into one tight knot of
delight hovering around his throat. When Hikaru opens the door (Pavel watches
carefully for the entry code, mostly because he has noticed that almost
everyone else onboard does that when someone opens a door), he sees a
greenhouse -- or, at least, it is a little hidden-away room saturated with
light and heat from sunlamps and humidity puffing out of the environmental
control panels and, everywhere he looks, exotic plants that are as uncharted to
Pavel as every other aspect of this experience. It is not a trap. It is a kind
of... intimacy, to be shown these things. In a way it is like, secretly, they
are all for him.
"Hikaru, this is amazing! You grew them all?"
"Yeah." Hikaru grins, as if he were worried that Pavel would not like it. "Be
careful -- some of them are pretty dangerous." Hikaru holds out one of his
surprisingly delicate fingers, and a green tendril reaches out to entwine it.
He pulls the finger away quickly, just as the tendril begins to constrict, and
grabs two pairs of large red rubber gloves from the hook where they are hanging
beside the door, handing one pair (almost tossing them) to Pavel. "Just in
case." Pavel feels awkward as his fingers seek out the corresponding fingers of
the gloves, but Hikaru slides them on cheerfully and then snaps the rubber on
purpose in a showy gesture.
Pushing aside the plant with the greedy tendrils, Hikaru leads Pavel through
the greenhouse, pointing out his favorite plants. Many of them have some sort
of poison, like the Bleeding Heart flowers (which are named that, he learns,
for their shape, which does look like a sad little heart) and the Erasmian
Night-Blooming Rosetta (whose thorns administer a lethal dose of neurotoxin
with a barely noticeable scratch). Some can be used as recreational drugs.
Quite a few are carnivorous, including one plant from Romulus whose leaves are
large enough to trap a large rat. He explains the mechanism used by carnivorous
plants to detect and trap prey in great scientific detail, pointing out the
small "hairs" that trip the plant's sensors and cause the trap to snap shut.
Pavel listens with silent passion to all of this, finding Hikaru's scholarship
impressive and his enthusiasm endearing, transforming the notoriously
formidable officer into someone Pavel is able to relate to. He knows that it
would be more efficient to extract the valuable compounds from the plants and
re-create them in a lab to use or sell as weapons, but he does not say this out
loud. It is beside the point.
Nestled away in the shade of a small tree with shiny purple leaves, Pavel spots
a plant that, unlike the others, is encased in a large glass box. The plant is
beautiful, almost sensual in appearance, with supple green stems and a flower
composed of what Pavel has learned to describe as a prominent stamen and
pistils surrounded by vivid red and orange petals that seem to melt away from
the center of the blossom. Pavel moves toward it in curiosity, careful not to
step on anything as he makes his way.
"Hikaru? What is this plant? Why is it covered up?"
"Don't touch it!" Hikaru appears afraid for a moment before he recovers himself
and laughs at his reaction. "Sorry. That's strelitzia satyria, the Satyr Plant.
Its pollen is an extremely potent aphrodisiac, as in, once you've breathed it
in you can't control yourself. Whoever happens to be in the room, you'll do
anything to get your hands on them, if you know what I mean."
Pavel nods, knowing very well what he means. Hikaru smirks.
"Apparently satyria here has been responsible for quite a few shotgun weddings
back on his homeworld. From the reports, it sounds like a pretty incredible
drug -- imagine literally not being able to think about anything else, just
this burning sexual desire. To feel like if you can't fuck someone, you're
going to die right on the spot." He drops into a voice that is self-consciously
lascivious, as if he is imitating some old holo. "I can't quite imagine what it
must be like; is it torture? Or is it ecstasy?"
Clearly it has been a long time since you were seventeen, Pavel thinks. It is
definitely torture. He does his best to prevent his cheeks from flushing at the
words that Hikaru is saying in that sinful voice, but it is very difficult.
Hikaru flashes him a conspiratorial look, and then blithely walks on, to show
Pavel his orchids, which cannot kill or maim anyone but nonetheless seem to be
Hikaru's favorites. Pavel listens closely, admiring everything that Hikaru
tells him is admirable, and then, leaning against the bark of a tree whose bark
is dotted with colorful bromeliads, Hikaru pulls him close and kisses him.
The kiss is rough and aggressive, but Pavel determines that this is not for any
specific emotional purpose, and is only because that is the way Hikaru always
kisses. He likes it, having his lips bitten and his tongue sucked and that
strong hand, still clothed in its thick rubber glove, wrapped around the back
of his neck. He kisses back with equal opposing force, nipping hard with his
sharp canines at the corner of Hikaru's lip. Hikaru gasps, and then growls,
"Fuck! You're gonna pay for that." Pavel smiles and murmurs, "Make me."
Hikaru maneuvers them into a horizontal position, taking advantage of a patch
of soft moss that Pavel seems to remember being told is vital to the
replication of the rainforest ecosystem. It feels nice under his back, as
Hikaru rolls on top of him and bites at his neck and collarbone. Under other
circumstances Pavel might make an effort to be silent, to not show weakness,
but he suspects that Hikaru would like to get a reaction from him, so he
happily provides it. Their gloves come off, followed by their shirts, but it
has been a long day and the heat in the greenhouse is oppressive, and they do
not get very much farther than kissing before they are tired and sweaty and
staring up at the canopy of leaves and flowers, and the tiled industrial
ceiling just beyond.
Pavel asks Hikaru about his work, and learns a few new things about Security,
which are filed away in the appropriate compartment of his mind. Hikaru asks
him about navigation, how he learned it, that sort of thing. Then he looks
slightly sideways into Pavel's eyes and begins, "So, I've been wondering
something."
"Yes?"
"For a couple of weeks now, the course you've been setting... it's not just
another way to get to Urizon Epsilon, is it?"
"I do not understand..." Pavel frowned, hoping that he could divert this
subject of conversation.
"What I mean is, I've been in this quadrant before. Detours are detours, but
none of where we've been is familiar. There's definitely something shady in the
charts. So what's the story?"
"I am sorry, Hikaru, but I cannot tell you that. I am the only person who knows
besides the Captain. If anything happens, it is me who will be dead. Worse than
dead."
"Come on, Pavel. Just look at us." Pavel looks at them, half-dressed and
entwined among the drooping orchids. It is not the best thing he could have
done for his thought processes at the moment. "Nothing's going to happen unless
you're in on it. I'd just... rather know than not know. You know that sometimes
the Captain's too secretive for his own good." He raises an eyebrow. "Besides,
I showed you my secrets."
This moment is the main reason why Pavel will later remember himself as having
been particularly, disastrously, stupidly trusting on this day. Because he
bites his lip and furrows his brow, and then replies, "Okay. But it is just
between us, right?"
"Of course."
"Okay. The Captain has arranged to deliver a shipment of contraband weapons to
the syndicate on Delta, against Imperial orders. It is part of some larger
strategy to undermine Admiral Pike and position the Captain to, as he says,
negotiate with Fleet command. I do not know the end game, except that the Delta
syndicate are best known as spies and gatherers of information, so it seems to
me that the payment for the weapons will not be in credits, but in secrets. It
is more of a risk than I would take, but I am not Captain. He says that you
have to take risks if you want to get anywhere."
Hikaru blinks a couple of times. "Huh." He frowns. "How does he think he's
going to keep that a secret from all of us?"
"Next week, we will stop for an emergency refuel. No one will be permitted to
leave the ship. The transaction will take less than an hour, and then we will
resume the actual course to Urizon Epsilon, which I have conveniently shortened
by about half. It is a simple shortcut, really."
"Damn, Ensign. Nice job walking all over your security clearance. Do me a favor
and remember me when you're running this boat."
Pavel grins. "I will try to remember you." He runs a hand down Hikaru's chest,
tracing muscles and scars, emboldened by the flattery. They kiss for a while
longer, lazy and content, before Hikaru raises his arms above his head in a
stretch that extends from his interlaced fingers all the way down to his trim
waist.
"Well, I've got Alpha Shift tomorrow, so I think I've got to get to bed. Let me
show you out -- it gets a little twisty back here, I know." Once more, Hikaru
extends a hand for Pavel to take, and Pavel follows his lead, pleased by the
way their fingers intertwine. This is right. This is what he wants, and now he
has it. He follows Pavel back to the main deck, and retires to his quarters for
the evening, where he sits in bed with his PADD and stylus and works out what
he would have done if he had been the Imperial general at the first battle of
Risa, until he was ready to fall asleep.
***** III *****
It is not difficult for Pavel to concentrate on his work the next day (Stardate
2632.39). He wakes up cheerful and sets about his calculations with a clear
head and a sense that things are the way they ought to be, the stars all in
their rightful places and all right with the world. The feeling of apprehension
that had been haunting him is gone, because you can't deny what you have seen
and felt and tasted. He acknowledges this, and puts it aside until the end of
his shift.
When he is done for the day, he happens to take a detour that leads him to the
corridor where Hikaru will be finishing his own shift, and happens to bump into
him. A lucky coincidence. He is not sure if Hikaru seems pleased to see him,
but it is the end of a long shift, and of course it is important to appear
reserved in public. Pavel pushes ahead and invites him back to his quarters for
a drink.
"Okay, sure. Give me fifteen minutes to get changed and meet you there,
alright?"
"Yes, that is perfect!" The words come out far too enthusiastic, and Pavel
cringes a little, but Hikaru has already turned back down the corridor.
When the bell sounds, Pavel has already dug out the bottle of good vodka he
smuggled from home and his shot glasses, shoved a few piles of old books and
PADDS under the furniture, and adjusted the lighting five times before giving
up and sighing "Computer, standard lighting." It has been twenty-two minutes.
He tells the door to open, and Hikaru strolls in, wearing his black off-duty t-
shirt. It occurs to Pavel that he should have changed too, but now it is too
late. Hikaru sits at one of the small plastic dining chairs, and the way he
moves confirms Pavel's idea that he has had a very long day.
"Today was not so easy?"
"You could say that, yeah. You probably don't want to know."
"Have a drink?" Pavel pushes one of the shot glasses in Hikaru's direction, and
Hikaru pours himself a shot and downs it without blinking.
He almost smiles, except that one side of his mouth is the only thing that
moves. "This place," he says, as if it were a complete sentence.
"Yes," Pavel says, before taking a shot for himself, and although the sentence
is not complete, the thought is, so complete that there is nothing to say to
it. The silence spreads out like ice across a lake.
"I looked up those composers that you mentioned," he finally says. The
conversation moves on from there. Both of them have more drinks and grow more
at ease, until Pavel feels that it is the appropriate moment to lean forward
for a kiss. As he pushes his tongue past Hikaru's, though, that feeling of
unease pushes back into his mind, because something is obviously out of place.
Hikaru is allowing the kiss but not exactly participating, not like he did
yesterday, and Pavel cannot say that he is surprised when he feels a strangely
gentle hand on his shoulder, not pushing him away, merely suggesting that he
ought to pull back. He does.
"Pavel..."
In the history of the universe no good news has ever been delivered in this
terribly affectionate tone.
"Fuck, I'm just going to be honest. What happened last night, I'm not going to
say it was a mistake or anything, but.. I think we should leave it as a one-
time thing. Appreciate it for what it was. I don't think either of us needs to
be tied down right now, you know?"
Pavel felt as though the ship had abruptly stopped moving through space,
throwing him across the room. He said nothing.
"I mean. I want to have you as a friend. I think we're a good team. But this
isn't a good place to try to have a relationship. Things get... complicated.
You know what I mean. And we don't need that, right?" He is leaning forward
against the table, making eye contact in an open and direct way that makes
Pavel feel patronized, like a small child.
Again the silence needs to be broken, but now Pavel only says, "Fine."
"I'm sorry, I'm an asshole. Ask around, it's a popular opinion anyway."
"No. It is fine. Friends." Somehow, he even smiles.
***** IV *****
Certain texts suggest that to the ancient Greeks, friendship was considered the
highest form of love, the most pure and unselfish.
Pavel has studied these texts, even the ones that have little to do with
mathematics or seafaring or warfare. But he does not think that he will ever
understand them.
***** V *****
Every time Pavel sees more than one Security officer (red shirted, heavily
armed) in one place, his conspiracy theory becomes more elaborate. The weapons
exchange is approaching, and he is painfully aware that its secrecy has been
compromised. He knows exactly what happened. That night in his quarters, of
course, he had understood immediately -- Hikaru had used him for information,
strung him along pretending to like him when he had no intention of even giving
him a chance. But in that moment, he had done a quick comparative analysis and
decided that it would be slightly less humiliating to pretend that he did not
know -- that he was too stupid to figure it out -- than to insist on the truth
and risk making a scene, which would of course end up revealing how invested he
had become in what they were both supposed to agree now was a one-time mistake
that ought to never happen again.
He has begun to question this decision, however, in the following days. It is
obvious that Hikaru knows that he knows what happened between them, and is not
in any way concerned by it. He sees Hikaru, glinting with gold insignia and
laughing among circles of officers, everywhere he goes. He says hello to Pavel
and smiles and even claps him on the back when he passes, and the message is
clear: As far as I am concerned, our story has already ended. There is nothing
more to say, because nothing you do can possibly affect me. It is almost a
gesture of pity. It is impossible to bear.
Of course this is nothing to Hikaru. He may not be well-liked, but he is so
obviously powerful, so shiningly visible. Pavel feels like a ghost as he
watches from the corridor, listens to muttered conversations whose words he
can't quite make out -- that intimate low register that he had thought might
become his own special privilege. He notices that Hikaru touches people
casually all the time, and that it is just as much a show of force, even an
implied threat, as it is a mark of friendship. He notices where Hikaru goes and
to whom he speaks, telling himself that he is attempting to investigate what he
is doing with the information about the weapons smuggling, but knowing that it
is really because of that acid burn of jealousy that is perhaps marginally
better than the anxiety of not knowing where he is or whom he is with. In the
evenings, he tortures himself by replaying over and over the scene in the
greenhouse, looking for clues that his brilliant mind somehow missed. His
fixation becomes more refined, more specific, until his mind is laser-focused
on just the moment when Hikaru says "if you can't fuck someone, you're going to
die right on the spot," and then just on the way he says "fuck," the curl of
his lips and the slight quirk of one eyebrow. The next steps are not so much a
calculation as a syllogism arising naturally from a series of propositions.
***** VI *****
On his PADD, in his own untranslatable shorthand, Pavel takes notes on what he
has learned about strelitzia satyria. He is amused to learn that Hikaru has
published an article on the subject, among others. The information he finds is
enough to estimate the concentration of active ingredients within the pollen,
as well as the various safety concerns involved.
He checks his regulation emergency medkit to make sure that, as he remembered,
it contains a gas mask loaded with oxygen. He double-checks schedules, both
official and observed. And on a different PADD, in neat Standard type, he
records all suspicious movements of the Security squad. During the day, he sits
at his console and plots the course to Delta, trying not to wonder how many of
them already know where they're doing. Trying not to let his eyes flash every
time he catches a flicker of red in the periphery of his vision.
At night, he checks the diagram he has made of schedules to confirm that the
corridor ought to be empty for twenty-five minutes, and he walks quietly from
his quarters down the ark hallway that Hikaru showed him. Each step must be
deliberately muffled to counteract the clumsiness of his too-large regulation
boots. Every noise from the pipes or the engines makes him freeze in his path
like a spooked rabbit, ready to run for his life.
Pavel keys in the entry code, and the greenhouse door opens for him. He finds
the rubber gloves hanging beside the door and pulls them on. He is not willing
to take a chance on activating the lights and tripping an automatic security
camera, but he can shed a small amount of light by flicking on his communicator
and pointing the screen at the path ahead of him. The room looks different in
the dark, now that the Erasmian Rosettas are dripping with voluptuous red
flowers and the plant that had greeted Hikaru is curling and uncurling its
tentacles freely. Pavel remembers the path around the room and towards the
little tree in the back, and finds the glass case that houses satyria. Securing
his gas mask first, he lifts the case off and sets it aside. It is a very
precise operation to extract the pollen into the vial, and he wishes he could
do it with more light and without thick gloves, but after some fumbling he is
sure that he has enough, and seals it up before creeping back the way he came,
glad to close the door on the room full of now sinister-seeming plants -- but
he could still swear that he can see tendrils unfurling in the corner of his
peripheral vision. He follows the complex map of corridors that he has by now
thoroughly memorized, and arrives at his quarters without being seen.
That night he sleeps soundly, like a small child.
***** VII *****
The next day, Pavel finishes a shift on the bridge and strolls over to the
canteen, and finds Hikaru eating lunch with a few of his friends in red, right
on schedule. Hikaru is tearing into his sandwich with his teeth, as two of his
friends snicker over some private joke. Pavel smiles big and bright, catching
their attention.
"Lieutenant Sulu! I had hoped that I would run into you!"
Sulu raises a skeptical eyebrow, putting down his sandwich.
"My friend from the Conservatory just sent me some old holo movies, pirates and
sword fights. I thought you would enjoy them, so I made copies. Pirate copies,
appropriate, I think?"
Two or three of the security officers laugh. Hikaru smirks. "That was pretty
cool of you, Ensign. You have them with you?"
"No, I did not know I would see you today. I could bring them to your quarters,
but I do not know when you will be free." Pavel pretends to think about it "If
you would like, I have no shifts tonight. You could come by my quarters any
time that it is convenient."
For a moment Hikaru is quiet, probably realizing that the smart thing to do is
to say yes, and avoid the appearance that he is avoiding Pavel. Of course,
Pavel knows and he knows that he is very much avoiding him, but to publicly
admit so much would make him look weak, like he is afraid of some teenaged
ensign fresh off the ground. No, Hikaru is obviously committed to the belief
that Pavel is no kind of threat.
So he smiles, again the one where only one side of his mouth moves, and says
"Sure. I'll be there around 2030. Leave a light on, okay?" And then he turns
back to the square-jawed woman sitting next to him, and it is as though he has
entirely forgotten Pavel's existence. Pavel turns silently and walks away.
He thinks about that smile again, later, as he sits folded up in his bed
waiting for 2030 hours to roll over on the big digital clock above the door.
Rachmaninoff's Prelude in G minor (op. 23, no. 5) is playing through the wall
speakers on repeat, and part of his mind is continuously going over details,
returning over and over again to the possibility that Hikaru might just not
show up. In that case, he would have to invent a new plan, and at the moment he
has no ideas. It is 2015 hours and almost everything is ready. He has checked
the pressure release on the sample vial, double-checked the seal on his gas
mask and the calculations that let him know how long the exposure will last. Of
course, he is not sure that Hikaru will visit at all, and if he does not, it
will be time for a new plan. Now is not the time to think about that. It will
only distract him from the moment at hand.
Thinking of that asymmetrical smile, the low confiding tone of voice that he
can't stand the thought of anyone else hearing, he removes his pants and folds
them at the foot of the bed. In the nightstand drawer, along with a compact
phaser and an antique cube puzzle, there is a small tube of lubricant swiped
from a shelf in sickbay. It has occurred to Pavel that if his plan works out in
the expected manner, it would be a serious mistake not to be prepared ahead of
time. He has learned to enjoy a certain amount of pain, but as always, there
are limits. So he lets the future play out ahead of time in his mind, images of
Hikaru desperately tearing his clothes off and biting him like an animal, as he
rolls his hips up against the mattress and begins to penetrate himself with his
fingers. He is disciplined and efficient, doing his best to concentrate on the
practical purpose, his own safety, rather than the sensation, but nevertheless
he thinks yet again of the way Hikaru described the effects of the pollen, the
body language that transformed a scientific fact into lewd innuendo.
It is difficult to drag his mind away from that image, but he manages, pulling
his pants back on and washing his hands in the small bathroom adjoining his
sleeping quarters. The clock reads 2030, but Hikaru did say "around" 2030, and
it would be unusual for him to be exactly on time for such a trivial purpose.
Standing near the door, Pavel readies the little aerosol vial and pulls his gas
mask on over his curly hair, and tries not to watch the clock.
At 2037, the chime sounds and the computer asks if he would like to invite
Hikaru in. The timing now is very precise, very difficult. He shakes the vial
and opens it, and he thinks he must be imagining it but could swear that
there's a golden shimmer in the air for just a moment as he turns and paces the
distance across the room, just before the bell rings and the door slides open.
He counts down the time of exposure, thirty seconds, forty...
"What the hell?"
"I was just helping at the science lab. They needed a volunteer."
"You.. whoa. I need to sit down." Hikaru blinks several times in a row, and
then sneezes, and then frowns. "Feeling lightheaded." He turns and lowers
himself into the chair, and looks at Pavel for a long time. Pavel smiles. This
is a good sign.
"Shit, what's going on? Why do you look so ... oh God." His face flashes with
rage, and he's out of the chair. "Motherfucker! You did this... fuck... hold on
a second." Hikaru stands terribly still, bracing one hand against the chair. He
is breathing hard. Pavel leaves the gas mask on his desk and crosses the room
to stand just inches away from the other man, looking him in the eye. "You
little bastard," Hikaru whispers, but when Pavel kisses him hard, he grinds
their bodies together with uncontrolled desire. He grabs a handful of Pavel's
shirt and tears it off, breaking the sash that is supposed to hold it together.
"You want me to fuck you?" Hikaru's voice is a raw growl.
"You want to, yes?"
"I want to kill you -- just -- not now." It is like the previous time, in the
greenhouse, except that rather than smoothly leading them both into a
horizontal position, now Hikaru unbalances him with a kick to his ankles and
pushes him to the floor, and both of them are fumbling for the fastenings of
their pants. Hikaru's breathing is ragged, like it hurts to fill his lungs, and
Pavel can hear his heart pounding through all of their points of contact. When
their pants are undone, Hikaru does not bother removing his boots. He pins
Pavel to the metal floor with one hand splayed across his chest, grimacing in
pain for a moment as he is forced to break the contact of their bodies in order
to find a workable position, spreading Pavel's thighs with his own as far open
as he can force them, shaking with the effort of holding himself still for long
enough to line himself up. He bites his lip until it's white, something that
Pavel has never seen him do before and finds intensely erotic. "Fuck... hurts
so bad. Make it stop."
"You can make it stop," Pavel murmurs. "Come on, I'm ready." He nips at
whatever parts of Hikaru are accessible to his teeth, his long tan neck and the
rims of his ears. Hikaru makes a weird animal noise and suddenly Pavel feels
his cock pressing in, in one firm, fast stroke. Once Hikaru is inside him, he
pulls back his upper body, tossing his head back to look up at the ceiling as
he fucks Pavel relentlessly, each thrust jarring his whole body against the
floor and the firm grip of Hikaru's hands on his shoulders. It hurts, despite
his preparation, and Hikaru is obviously paying no attention to his partner's
pleasure, but Pavel likes it rough and he loves seeing Hikaru like this,
unraveling with desperation. He wriggles his right arm free of Hikaru's hold
and reaches down to stroke his own cock, staring up at Hikaru's teeth digging
into his lip and the straining tendons in his neck, the little trickles of
sweat that are starting to run down his scarred chest. He comes after just a
few moments, letting himself float for a moment on the rush of endorphins,
aware that this is only the beginning. The effects of satyria ensure that their
coupling will last for at least twice the normal arousal cycle of the effected
person. He relaxes his body as much as he can, feeling every sensation more
acutely in his sensitized nerves. Hikaru's breathing is becoming steadily
louder, something like a roar or a growl rumbling under the strained sound.
"I like that you fuck me hard," Pavel says, trying to catch his own breath.
"Fuck, I can't stop." There's a hiss of rage in Hikaru's voice that almost
scares Pavel. He dismisses the fear, because this is exactly what he wanted,
and it is just how he imagined it. Hikaru changes his angle slightly, trying to
reduce the strain on his trembling arms, and slams into Pavel's body hard
enough to make him gasp. He must like the sound, because he lowers his head and
bites into Pavel's shoulder, sucking on the spot for dear life before tearing
his mouth away. "I'm going to fuck you 'till you bleed."
"Promises," Pavel gasps, his eyes now half-closed with pleasure, feeling
himself approaching another orgasm. He wants Hikaru to look at him, to engage
with him, and he doesn't mind accomplishing that by making him angry. Hikaru's
response is wordless but unmistakable, firm fingers twisted into Pavel's hair
and slamming his head back against the floor, reacting before Pavel has even
got the word out. Combat reflexes, he thinks, right before he comes again.
After that, it hurts more than it feels good, his body twitching and recoiling
at every touch. It lasts for another ten minutes, and by the end of it Pavel is
reciting star charts inside his head to distract himself. Hikaru's eyes are
squeezed shut and his body seems to be moving automatically, not responding to
Pavel or any other outside force. When he comes, it is forceful but not
obviously pleasurable, his mouth slightly open and panting, his eyes not
opening. He pulls out -- there is some blood there, but not much -- and lies
flat on his back on the floor, fighting for breath, and no one says anything
for ninety seconds.
"What the fuck," Hikaru says.
"Pardon?"
"I... you know what, I'm going to go to sleep." Pavel says nothing, knowing
that the effect of the pollen on the body is particularly exhausting, and that
affected individuals tend to require several hours' rest after the fact. He
waits for Hikaru to lose consciousness before sitting up and looking at him,
admiring the sweaty surfaces of his body.
Pavel hurts all over, but he barely notices the bruises already forming,
because so far his plan has worked brilliantly. The most triumphant part of the
Prelude in G minor is just starting again on the recording, and he feels like a
conqueror. He hates to leave Hikaru sleeping on the cold floor, but he knows
that there is no point in trying to lift him, so Pavel simply covers his guest
with a sheet and sets about cleaning himself up as thoroughly as he can. He
rinses his washcloth in cold water to keep the blood stains from setting, and
when he notices that he is freezing cold himself, he returns to Hikaru's side
and curls up next to him, contemplating his next steps.
***** VIII *****
Hikaru sleeps without tossing or turning, lying spread out on his back for
almost two and a half hours. Pavel does not sleep. He rests his head against
Hikaru's shoulder, his hair flattened with sweat, and tries to think of every
possible thing that could happen in the immediate future. No matter how many
possibilities he explores, he can never be sure that he has not missed
anything.
Hikaru lets out a little groan before squinting and stretching his arms,
without opening his eyes, so Pavel has to roll out of the way of the stretch.
He watches Hikaru wince a little and roll his shoulders as his eyes open just a
crack, probably evaluating just how sore his arms and shoulders are. Finally he
wakes enough to notice Pavel next to him.
"Huh... did I do that?" It takes a moment to realize that he's referring to the
bruises lining both sides of Pavel's neck and shoulders. "Did we...?"
Pavel nods with a slightly nervous smile. He is just wondering whether the
apparent amnesia is permanent when Hikaru tenses all over and props himself up
on one elbow, eyes flaring.
"Of course. Pavel, you little shit, what made you think I was someone to fuck
around with? Do you think I'm not going to kill you?"
Pavel starts to pull away, to get some distance, and Hikaru lunges forward with
his free arm and pins his shoulder, landing squarely on a bruise from the night
before. This time the pain is not dimmed by adrenaline, and it lights up his
whole brain in a way that is difficult to ignore.
"I do not think you will kill me." He presses on in case Hikaru tries to
interrupt. "I have been taking notes on everything I can find out about your
conspiracy against the Captain and his dealings with the Deltans. Those notes
are currently stored in my official communications file, which is transferred
to the Captain's terminal at midnight unless I cancel the transmission. Of
course, if you were to kill me, I am sure you would be capable of hacking into
my account to remove the information in the next half hour."
Hikaru's mouth curves into a snarl. "That's going to do a lot of good for your
career. Provided that you really do know something, how are you going to
explain how I found out about the trade in the first place?"
"There could be many explanations. The best would be that you interrogated me
for the information, and that I gave in under duress. Of course, I would be
punished, but you would be punished much worse. And your friends as well. Or I
could create a small flaw in the electronic communications system, something
that could believably have been exploited by someone loyal to you. But I prefer
the first course, because it is simpler and would not be difficult to believe.
In fact, it is easier to believe than the truth."
During this speech, Hikaru rolls off of him and stands up in one quick
movement, and half-leans against the nearest wall, looking unsure if he would
rather slump against the wall or push off and pace across the room. His body is
tense, restless. "You mean, because that's just who I am."
"That would not be fair of me. But it is how you are perceived." Pavel pulls
himself into a sitting position, one arm slung around his bent legs.
Suddenly, Hikaru pulls back and punches the wall hard enough that Pavel's first
instinct is to check for a dent. He makes a sound as he does so, a sort of
roar, but does not say anything for a while. His whole body radiates murderous
anger, but he does not touch Pavel or even look at him, instead just staring at
the undented metal wall.
"So." He speaks in his lowest register, still without looking at Pavel. "So I
promise not to fucking kill you. And you delete your blackmail file and tell
the Captain everything's fine. Where's your insurance? What's to say I'm not
going to get back at you later?"
"Oh. I have no insurance of this. I know that you are very angry, and that you
are very, very powerful. But now that I am aware of your plan, and you are
aware that I am aware, I automatically become a part of your plan, yes? And
following from this, I expect that as a part of your plan you will come to find
me very useful."
Hikaru holds his own face in both hands. "You've lost your mind."
"Perhaps. But my wager is that you will change your opinion."
"Okay." Hikaru is pacing back and forth between the wall and a chair. "Okay.
You only have sonic in here, right?"
"Yes."
"Of course. Okay, I'm going back to my quarters to take -- wait, no. First,
you're going to delete that file, and I'm going to watch you do it. Then, I'm
going back to my quarters to take a damn water shower, and figure out what to
do about you. And you're going to stay right here, and stay the hell out of my
sight until you hear otherwise. Is that clear?"
Pavel's survival instinct tells him that this would be a good time to stop
pushing. "Okay." Then he stands up and goes to his computer terminal to pull up
his communications file for the day. Hikaru stands approximately two feet
behind, watching Pavel delete the information.
"I don't get it," he finally says. "Why?"
"Why?"
"I mean, if you knew so much... you already had me up against the wall. All you
had to do was show me this. That's all you had to do..."
For a moment the only sounds Pavel can hear are both of their breathing. He
does not turn away from the computer console when he says, quietly, "Because it
was what I wanted." It is a better answer than the others that come immediately
to mind: because he is not willing to be cast aside and picked back up again
out of convenience, because he cannot stand the way Hikaru turned away from him
without even looking over his shoulder. Because he wants the heat of Hikaru's
passions to be focused solely on him, like sunlight through a magnifying glass.
He listens to the sound of heavy footsteps retreating, the door hissing open
and closed.
***** IX *****
It is Pavel who finally works out how to hack into communications and gain
access to the secret information passed on by the Deltans. The team Hikaru has
chosen to complete the break-in consists of himself, Pavel, and Ensign Maria
Wheeler, the square-faced security officer Pavel recognizes from the canteen,
assigned to keep watch at the door. As soon as the late shift has left the
bridge, they begin to gather in the dark corridor outside of the auxiliary
control room that Pavel has selected. All three are dressed in dark colors to
avoid detection, and as they arrive they share fleeting glances of recognition,
followed by a nod from Wheeler that means all clear and one from Pavel that
means let's go.
He feels the cold through the fabric of his shirt for an instant before he
notices that Hikaru has turned and shoved him back against the wall, meeting
his eyes for the first time in more than a week.
"Just so we're clear. I'm looking for you to fuck this up. You put one toe in
the wrong place, and my day is made. Got it?"
Without waiting for a reaction, he lets go of Pavel and turns away, his
shoulders twitching as if to shake off invisible drops of water. He punches in
the entry code, not watching as Pavel's eyes follow every movement of his
fingers.
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