Archive of Our Own

Late-late-late-late. Sulu sprints across campus, checking his chronometer as he crosses through the archway out to Kargan Street. It's almost 2100; there's no way Cadet Anonymous is still going to be there.

Not that they had plans. Not that anything was actually agreed to. Hell, not that he even knows Cadet Anonymous's name. They're not lovers, not boyfriends; the closest Sulu can say is that they've been fucking for three weeks now, and Sulu didn't really want that to come to an end quite this fast.

But the routine shuttle transport today was anything but routine, and if Sulu hadn't managed to land the thing, he'd have had a lot more to worry about than getting laid tonight; he might not be around to worry about anything at all. As it was, Sulu had gotten a compliment from Commander Harace on his flying, everyone had landed safely with no injuries, and the only real trouble was that Sulu was three hours late getting home, thanks largely to the paperwork.

But three hours. They always meet around 1800. The guy could have found a dozen people to leave with in three hours. Sulu knows damn well he's worth the wait, but he also knows the guy he's been meeting isn't very patient and isn't very picky. With both of those factors in mind, Sulu's still in his uniform; he didn't even bother to change once he got home.

He slows down a block away from the bar, glad he's in good enough shape to sprint that far without getting too out-of-breath. He smooths down his uniform, combs his fingers through his hair, and looks at his reflection in a window.

He winces. He should have taken the time to change; he looks like one of those cadets who goes into town with a uniform and an attitude, trying to impress people before he has to exchange so much as a word with them. It's such a clichéd approach. Sulu can remember a half-dozen cadets who used it on him before he started at the Academy; he knows how effective the look is. It isn't very subtle.

There's not much he can do about it, though, and if the guy's not here, at least Sulu won't strike out.

He walks into the bar and looks around. He does get the attention he expected, and he makes eye contact with people, smiling, definitely not ignoring them. He might be trying to pick one of these people up later; he'd rather come across as friendly than as too good to give anyone the time of day.

"Hey, sailor. Buy you a drink?"

Sulu turns around. He grins, ear-to-ear, before he can stop himself, and Cadet Anonymous grins right back, looking at Sulu like he knows how glad Sulu is to see him. Unlike Sulu, he's out of uniform, wearing a black leather jacket over a tight white t-shirt. Black leather pants, too. If Sulu hadn't shown up, he wouldn't have been at any risk of striking out, either.

But Sulu's here now, and he's not about to let anyone else go home with this guy tonight. "I'll drink if you're buying," he says. The guy slings an arm around Sulu's shoulders and pulls him back to a table in the corner, and Sulu sits down.

"Busy day?"

"Like you wouldn't believe."

"Trust me, I've had enough busy days of my own to believe most things." He signals the waitress, who comes over and looks from one to the other of them, smiling all the way. "A Breshtanti ale for me and...?"

"A Young's Double," Sulu says.

The waitress winks at them and heads off, and the other guy raises his eyebrows.

"Did you just order a chocolate beer?"

"The man knows his beers." Sulu laughs.

"Do you have a thing for chocolate, or is it just that good? It's what, a three-hundred-year-old recipe?"

"You can try it yourself if you want."

The guy's eyes narrow--not much, just a fraction, but Sulu catches it. He realizes a second later what that look's about: he sidestepped the question altogether. "Hey--"

"I'll do that. So--"

"No, listen--"

"--should I ask about your day again, or should we agree to stop asking questions? We never did draw lines--"

"Stop. All right?" Sulu stares the guy down, and although the guy doesn't give any ground--doesn't even blink--Sulu can see him calming. "You think I ran all the way here in my uniform because I want to keep my boundaries clear?"

The guy keeps looking at Sulu, but Sulu doesn't back away from that stare. Finally, the guy leans back in his chair and nods.

"Okay. So--how was your day?" His eyebrows go up just a little. "You're three hours later than your usual, and you're still in uniform."

"Had some technical difficulties with a standard shuttle run. There were some loose ends afterwards."

"Huh." The guy tilts his head. "I wasn't pegging you for an engineer..."

"I'm not. I was the pilot."

"Oh." The guy smiles. "Now that makes more sense. Tough landing?"

"Nothing I couldn't handle." Sulu smirks.

"I bet."

"So what about you? Pilot, engineer, communications, sciences...?"

"Command track."

"Really." It comes out before Sulu can stop himself, and he winces at himself. The guy cracks up. "Yeah, that came out wrong on my part. Sorry..."

"No, trust me--five years ago I'd have said the same thing. I didn't want anything to do with Starfleet."

"But you got here anyway."

"I did. I got a really good recruiting speech from someone who was actually worth listening to. How about you?"

"I grew up in San Francisco."

"Oh, local boy."

"Mm-hm. And I've been flying all my life. I think I've always wanted to be a part of Starfleet; it just seemed right."

The waitress comes by with their beers, and the guy picks up the tab, scanning his thumbprint for the credits immediately rather than waiting until later. He eyes Sulu's chocolate stout, and Sulu laughs as he hands it over. The expression on his face after he's tried it makes Sulu laugh even harder.

"Jesus. Either you love chocolate or you have some really strange ideas about beer."

"Both."

"Yeah, well--" The guy takes a nice long swig of his Breshtanti ale, and Sulu has a moment to appreciate the line of his throat as he swallows. The guy catches Sulu's expression and chuckles. "If you drink fast, we can get out of here."

"I really don't give a damn about the drink."

The guy grins. "I didn't think so."

* * *

Back in Sulu's quarters again, this time the guy takes the lead. It's a surprise, but not an unwelcome one. He unzips Sulu's uniform jacket and shoves it off his shoulders, then yanks the sweater out from his trousers and half-pulls, half-drags it off Sulu's body; the thing's so stretchy it winds up stuck to his head and one hand for a minute before they can both struggle it free. The guy's laughing once the sweater's gone, though, and he ruffles Sulu's hair. Sulu rolls his eyes and reaches for the guy's leather jacket, but the guy just shrugs out of it and lets it drop to the floor, pushing Sulu's hands away when they reach for his shirt.

He backs Sulu up against the wall, kicking aside both jackets and Sulu's sweater on the way there. He pins Sulu to the wall, one thigh between Sulu's legs, and when Sulu tries to reach for his shirt, he grabs both of Sulu's wrists and pins those against the wall, too. Sulu's eyebrows go up, and the guy licks his lips, waiting for Sulu to say something, but eventually Sulu just leaves his hands there and lets the guy draw his fingertips down Sulu's arms and over his sides, then across his waistband, both hands sliding down to his hips and holding him in place.

He bends forward, and Sulu tilts his head, expecting to meet him halfway, but he's not going for Sulu's mouth this time. He kisses Sulu's neck, licks and kisses until he gets to the hollow of Sulu's throat, then starts moving down, licking over Sulu's chest and the curves of his muscles. Sulu groans and spreads his legs a little wider; the guy presses his advantage, pushing his thigh forward and rubbing it up against Sulu's cock.

He comes back up after a few more licks--never actually getting to Sulu's nipples, damn it--and he grabs Sulu by the hair and pins his head back against the wall. Sulu laughs out loud at that--this kind of aggression is definitely not what he ever expected from this particular guy--but he stops laughing when the guy kisses him. He kisses back, then, and he leaves his wrists against the wall, waiting for the guy to show him where he wants them next.

Next doesn't have anything to do with Sulu's wrists, though; next the guy uses his one free hand to unfasten Sulu's fly, thigh easing away so he can get his hand into Sulu's pants and draw his cock out. Sulu gasps against the guy's mouth, and the guy squeezes--firm grasp, solid, nice--and then he backs off completely, dropping to one knee so he can get Sulu's boots off, then his trousers and his boxer-briefs, everything shoved aside so he can stand right back up and go back to kissing him.

But it's different now--now Sulu can feel the guy's leather pants up against his bare skin, the warmth of his thigh pressed to Sulu's cock. Sulu twists his head away from the guy's kisses, cursing. "Come on--bed--now," he pants.

"Maybe I don't want to take you to bed," the guy murmurs. He reaches up again and threads his fingers through Sulu's, keeping Sulu pinned to the wall. "Maybe I want to fuck you right here."

"Maybe we'll both fall on our asses if you try that," Sulu says, rolling his eyes. The guy's got a couple inches on him, and he's strong, but he's human. Wall sex is never as easy as it looks in the vids.

But if the look in the guy's eyes is anything to go by, Sulu just offered him a challenge, and he's not backing off. "I'll take my chances if you will," he says, licking his lips. Sulu's still frowning at him, and the guy manages to look brash and earnest at the same time. God, no wonder Sulu's been obsessing over him. "I won't let you fall."

"Oh, big hero," Sulu says, but he glances over to his nightstand. "Get the lube?"

"Good call." He goes to the nightstand and grabs lube and a hand towel, tossing the towel over his shoulder and opening the lube. Sulu's all set to wince his way through this part--it's not like he never gets fucked, but it's not exactly daily, or even weekly--but the guy's easier on him than Sulu expected, gentle without treating him like he's going to break. The first few times his fingers move in, it does burn a little, but after that it's a nice slick glide, and Sulu can actually start to relax into it. The guy's not good enough with his prep to make Sulu feel like he needs this, but he knows he can take it now, and he lifts his eyebrows.

"Planning to get your cock in on the action at some point?"

"I dunno." The guy licks his lips, grins, twists his fingers. Sulu grunts; there's a sudden feeling of almost, almost when the guy's fingers move past just the right spot, but the angle's awkward and the feeling disappears fast. "What if I just want you to call me a son of a bitch and leave you hanging?"

"Fifty credits says you've never left anyone hanging in your life," Sulu says. It's getting harder and harder to keep his voice even; his body's getting really interested in the guy's fingers and what they're doing, and before he knows it he's squirming between the guy and the wall, trying to get more. "Come on. Come on. Do it."

"Fuck, you sound so good," the guy says; his voice isn't even anymore, either. He draws his hand back and uses the towel to clean up, and he undoes his fly and gets his cock out. Then it's a hell of a lot of awkward positioning--Sulu gets one leg around the guy's waist, but it's not enough; he ends up having to jump up while the guy slams him against the wall and pins him there with body weight.

That's great for getting him in place, but the guy's not in him yet, and having come this far, Sulu wants it--actually wants to get fucked, wants this guy to fuck him. He braces himself, puts some weight on the guy's shoulders, and the guy reaches down, gets a hand between them, and tries to angle up and in. Sulu growls with frustration, brings his other leg up, and that's almost right--the guy's almost there--and Sulu helps out, squirming down, trying to hold onto the guy and keep himself upright at the same time. The guy's cock goes in another inch, and Sulu bangs his head back against the wall, gasping.

"Yeah," the guy groans, and he shoves his hips forward and up, and Sulu slides down, angling down just right so the guy can actually push into him all the way. It hurts enough Sulu has to grit his teeth against it, but he isn't struggling away at this point; they've come way too far to stop now.

The guy pulls back just a fraction of an inch and pushes in again, and from there, he picks up some confidence. He's rough--they don't have the option to be careful in this position--but it doesn't matter. He's focused on Sulu like Sulu's never seen him before, eyes locked onto Sulu's and body pushing in hard, and between the guy's weight against his chest and the grip he has on Sulu's thighs, Sulu believes him. He's not going to let Sulu fall, and neither one of them is going anywhere.

"Come here," Sulu growls, and he puts a hand on the back of the guy's neck, leaning in and kissing him hard. The guy stops moving and kisses back, openmouthed and wet and sloppy; Sulu can smell his sweat. None of this is enough, all of a sudden--the guy's still mostly-dressed, and Sulu's desperate to feel bare skin against his. He grabs at the guy's t-shirt and starts trying to get it up, over his chest, off, but the fabric's old and soft and he hears it tearing before he realizes it's giving way.

That gets the guy's attention; he pulls back, and the break in position and concentration is just enough for them to lose the angle--he slips out, and Sulu's right leg comes down off his hip. He slams Sulu back into the wall, pinning him before Sulu can actually lose his balance and fall down. It hurts, but Sulu doesn't really care. The guy pins his hips to the wall, giving him a point of stability, and Sulu climbs off him, reaching for his shirt again once he's on the ground.

The guy helps out, stripping off what's left of his shirt, and he kicks his boots off, then shoves his pants and boxers off. He grabs Sulu by the arm and pulls him over to the bed, and they go tumbling over, the guy landing on top. Sulu draws his legs up and pushes himself up on one arm, the better to reach an arm around the guy's shoulders and drag him close. The guy's distracted--everything else is falling second to the need to be in Sulu all over again, and when he gets there, it burns hard for a moment before the pleasure sets in again--but as soon as he's in, as soon as his hips are tight against Sulu's ass, he puts both hands down on the bed and braces himself.

"You are so goddamned hot," he growls.

"You're not half-bad yourself," Sulu fires back.

The guy laughs and brings himself down, kissing Sulu hard as he starts moving. Sulu slides a hand down the guy's back, rocking his own hips up with the rhythm the guy's setting up, and soon enough they can't keep the kiss going--the guy's panting hard, sweat rolling down his back, and Sulu's every bit as out of breath. He falls back onto the bed and reaches in between them, gets a hand on his cock as the guy just keeps going, driving in deeper and harder until Sulu's pretty sure he's seeing stars.

The guy reaches down, too, his hand wrapping around Sulu's, and he speeds things up just a little more, hips and hand perfectly in time with each other. Sulu gets his eyes open, and he's not surprised to find the guy looking right into them. The guy's grinning, skin slick with sweat, and Sulu gasps, cock jerking under both their hands, whole body going tense as he comes. The guy grunts and shoves forward hard, last few thrusts coming quick and uneven, but when he comes, it's with a harsh yell that makes Sulu grin ear-to-ear. He struggles out from under the guy in a hurry, but stays close, and the guy flings an arm over Sulu's chest and tucks his head in against Sulu's shoulder.

A few seconds or a few minutes later--Sulu's not sure which and doesn't care--the guy starts chuckling. The rush of air against the side of Sulu's neck tickles, and he rolls onto his side. The guy's looking at him, grinning. He's so damned gorgeous Sulu can't help smiling back at him.

"I think I--" Sulu's throat is hoarse; he has to clear it before he can actually get a sentence out. "I think I ruined your shirt."

"I've got other shirts."

Sulu reaches up and draws his fingertips down the line of the guy's jaw. "I'm sorry I kept you waiting."

"I did wonder." The guy turns his head and nips at Sulu's fingertip. "Maybe we'll say you owe me one."

"I can live with that."

He could ask now, Sulu knows. He could ask the guy's name, and the guy would tell him. They could exchange voicemail codes, make this legit.

He doesn't ask, and Cadet Anonymous doesn't, either. When it's time for him to go, he pulls on his ripped t-shirt and the rest of his clothes, and he looks over his shoulder when he gets to the door.

"I'm free Monday afternoon. About 1300 hours."

Sulu frowns. Monday. Classes, flight testing, fencing practice... "I'll have about half an hour."

"You want to meet here, then? It'd save us some time."

"Well, I wouldn't want to rush you." Sulu grins. "I'll try not to be late this time."

"I'll wait for you if you are."

Sulu's still trying to think of something--anything--to say to that; as the guy lets himself out, he's still got nothing. He falls back on his bed, stares up at the ceiling and stretches. He'll be sore for the next couple of days, but he's not sorry. Not sorry at all.

-end-