withthepilot (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
withthepilot) wrote2010-04-15 06:44 pm
withthepilot) wrote2010-04-15 06:44 pm
Entry tags:
Fic: Switched
Title: Switched
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Chekov/Sulu, Kirk/McCoy (with a twist~)
Word count: 1,393
Notes: Written for the following prompt by![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
moonfoot_gamgee over at a comment!fic party at ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
chulu: "Chekov and McCoy switch bodies. Sulu is baffled, but also amused because McCoy in Chekov's body is kind of hilarious. Shenanigans ensue." I was waiting to post this in case I wanted to make it longer but I think I like it as is.
Warning: Body-switching, as mentioned.
Summary: It's strange for Sulu, seeing his boyfriend in the doctor's body; but it's also somehow alluring.
"Okay, so, um...just say that last part again, Bones?" Kirk asks. McCoy and Chekov—their faces drawn and hair mussed, uniforms stained and dirty—exchange an exhausted glance.
"Damn it, Jim, I'm Bones, remember?" Chekov—no, McCoy—snaps at the captain.
Sulu runs a hand over his face and groans.
The thing is, it was supposed to be a routine aid mission. But then the inhabitants of this paranoid little planet, whatever its name is, freaked out at the sight of the big, bad starship and shot some crazy beam in the direction of the bridge, just as McCoy and Chekov were discussing something near the helm. Now their bodies have been switched and the sight of McCoy hunched over and running through files in his PADD, his mouth drawn into a thoughtful line, paired with Chekov snarling at Kirk and waving his arms around like a madman, is wigging Sulu out, big time.
"I think this has happened before," Chekov suddenly pipes up, and the sound of McCoy's deep voice sounding out those Russian-accented syllables makes Sulu dissolve into nervous giggles. "What?" he asks, though it sounds like Vat? and Sulu has to muffle a louder laugh into his sleeve.
"Nothing! I just—"
"Shut up, Hikaru," McCoy and Chekov both say. Then Sulu's so boggled that he has to sit down.
"Highly curious," Spock says. He peers over McCoy's—no, Chekov's—shoulder to examine what he's found. "But it appears that the doctor has found a prior instance of such a phenomenon similar enough to..." He trails off when he realizes his mistake. "The ensign," he corrects himself, his face shifting briefly toward an approximation of embarrassment.
"You goddamn simpletons," McCoy says, then. But it's Chekov's mouth shifting into that signature scowl, his voice drawling the doctor's Southern inflection, and Sulu feels a little torn over which version of who is more attractive right now, because jesus christ. Kirk clears his throat and shifts his stance and Sulu can tell the problem is a shared one. "Can't any of you so-called geniuses keep track of who's who, just for a damn minute? I know I look like Chekov but I'm McCoy, and the kid looks like me, but he's Chekov. Got that?"
Chekov looks up and nods with a fierce expression. "It is not difficult to understand this switch."
"Indeed," Spock says. "My apologies, Doctor, Ensign. It would serve you well to rest, given the possible trauma your systems have experienced, which we cannot yet properly ascertain. I will work with Doctor M'Benga and the science department to review this past occurrence and devise a solution."
"Forget it," McCoy says, shaking his head vigorously, curls bouncing. "I'm working with you on that."
"That would be unwise, as we do not yet have an accurate idea of the severity of the situation and the inherent risk in—"
"I'm staying," McCoy insists, and then Kirk steps forward, laying a hand on his partner's unusually slight shoulder.
"No, you're going back to our quarters with me and that's an order," he says. Sulu jerks his head up at that and frowns.
"Hey, wait. You can't take him to bed with you when he...when he looks like..."
Kirk exhales. "I know what he looks like, Hikaru. But this is Bones."
"Yes, and I am Pavel, Hikaru," Chekov adds, arching a brow in a way that sends a weird shiver down Sulu's spine. "So do not be ridiculous."
Sulu gapes at all of them for a few seconds and then folds his arms over his chest. "Okay, fine. So, Jim, you'd be completely fine with it if I had sex with Pavel while he looks like McCoy?"
Kirk gives Chekov an appraising look, as if appearances aren’t deceiving and he's the partner Kirk knows and loves; but then the navigator frowns at him and folds his arms protectively over his chest, returning the captain's gaze with a wary and icy one of his own.
"Um...okay," Kirk concedes, nodding. "No sex until it's fixed. Deal?" He extends a hand and Sulu takes it for the shake.
"Deal."
"We are standing right here!" Chekov complains. He stands and pushes his PADD off on Spock, who looks more than happy to back away from the impending melodrama. "I will have sex with my boyfriend if I want to! Come on, Hikaru." And he grabs Sulu's hand with one of his own, much larger in size and tighter in grip than Sulu is used to, and starts to drag him out of sickbay, leaving behind a bewildered looking Kirk and a grumpy doctor in Chekov's body, still scowling with his hands planted firmly on his hips.
"But they—" Sulu protests weakly.
Chekov doesn't stop pulling.
Back in his quarters, Sulu sits on the edge of the bed and watches as Chekov undresses, revealing a body that he doesn't recognize. McCoy is broad and tanned, a product of the American South, whereas Chekov is lithe and toned, as pale as the winter sky that drifts over his native land. It's a little exciting, watching this new version of his boyfriend, glimpsing these stretches of skin he's not meant to see; moreover, he misses the familiar planes of Chekov's form, the delicate curvature of his ears and nose juxtaposed with the calculating glimmer of his sharp gaze.
After a few minutes, Chekov catches him staring and smiles with one side of his mouth.
"You don't like me this way, do you? Is okay."
"No, I..." Sulu starts to shake his head, laughing at the absurdity of the situation and pawing at his face. "I don't know the right answer to that question, actually."
"There is no right or wrong answer." Chekov sniffs and walks over to the bed in his shorts. Sulu almost wants to look away from the sight of all that bare flesh—flesh that doesn't actually belong to Chekov. But this is Chekov—he knows as much when he feels gentle fingers along his shoulders, running into his hair. That's definitely Chekov's touch. "I know this is odd for you. It is odd for me, too. I feel so..." He looks himself over and wrinkles his upturned nose. "Bulky."
Sulu laughs and reaches up to touch Chekov's hair, which feels nice and silky, though he misses the slightly frizzed curls. "You're not bulky. You're handsome, really. McCoy's a handsome guy. But...I do miss you. Your body. Spock and M'Benga will get it back, though."
"Da," Chekov says, and it's so bizarre to hear that come out of McCoy's mouth, that they both end up laughing. Sulu has to admit that McCoy's smile is particularly gorgeous; he's not sure he's actually ever seen it more than once. He can't help but wonder how often Kirk gets to see it.
"I keep wondering," he admits, quietly, "what Jim and McCoy are doing right now."
"Just talking, like us, I am sure." Chekov laughs when Sulu gives him a disbelieving look. "You don't think so?"
"This is Kirk we're talking about, here."
"Yes, but the captain is a man of his word." Chekov rubs Sulu's thigh gently and exhales, his breath warm when it reaches Sulu's neck. "I suppose he is right and we should not do anything we normally would do."
"Yeah," Sulu agrees. He looks up and bites his lip at the sight of the doctor's face gazing back at him. "Let's just go to sleep."
They get into bed and when the lights are dimmed and the covers pulled up, Chekov gives Sulu a shy yet knowing smile before he leans over and kisses him. In the morning, there's no telling how Kirk and McCoy will act or if they'll be truthful about what they did tonight, but in the long run, Sulu supposes it doesn't matter much; despite the unusual lips and the hazel eyes peering at him from beneath dark lashes, he can feel Chekov here in their bed, pressed all along his side, suffusing the same warm glow he always does, just from a different vessel—a beautiful vessel, not only because it carries Chekov's spirit. And as he parts his lips for the slick slide of Chekov's clever tongue, Sulu decides that nothing much else matters; that it's not wrong. In any bodies, any forms, he and Chekov would surely find each other.
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Chekov/Sulu, Kirk/McCoy (with a twist~)
Word count: 1,393
Notes: Written for the following prompt by
moonfoot_gamgee over at a comment!fic party at chulu: "Chekov and McCoy switch bodies. Sulu is baffled, but also amused because McCoy in Chekov's body is kind of hilarious. Shenanigans ensue." I was waiting to post this in case I wanted to make it longer but I think I like it as is.Warning: Body-switching, as mentioned.
Summary: It's strange for Sulu, seeing his boyfriend in the doctor's body; but it's also somehow alluring.
"Okay, so, um...just say that last part again, Bones?" Kirk asks. McCoy and Chekov—their faces drawn and hair mussed, uniforms stained and dirty—exchange an exhausted glance.
"Damn it, Jim, I'm Bones, remember?" Chekov—no, McCoy—snaps at the captain.
Sulu runs a hand over his face and groans.
The thing is, it was supposed to be a routine aid mission. But then the inhabitants of this paranoid little planet, whatever its name is, freaked out at the sight of the big, bad starship and shot some crazy beam in the direction of the bridge, just as McCoy and Chekov were discussing something near the helm. Now their bodies have been switched and the sight of McCoy hunched over and running through files in his PADD, his mouth drawn into a thoughtful line, paired with Chekov snarling at Kirk and waving his arms around like a madman, is wigging Sulu out, big time.
"I think this has happened before," Chekov suddenly pipes up, and the sound of McCoy's deep voice sounding out those Russian-accented syllables makes Sulu dissolve into nervous giggles. "What?" he asks, though it sounds like Vat? and Sulu has to muffle a louder laugh into his sleeve.
"Nothing! I just—"
"Shut up, Hikaru," McCoy and Chekov both say. Then Sulu's so boggled that he has to sit down.
"Highly curious," Spock says. He peers over McCoy's—no, Chekov's—shoulder to examine what he's found. "But it appears that the doctor has found a prior instance of such a phenomenon similar enough to..." He trails off when he realizes his mistake. "The ensign," he corrects himself, his face shifting briefly toward an approximation of embarrassment.
"You goddamn simpletons," McCoy says, then. But it's Chekov's mouth shifting into that signature scowl, his voice drawling the doctor's Southern inflection, and Sulu feels a little torn over which version of who is more attractive right now, because jesus christ. Kirk clears his throat and shifts his stance and Sulu can tell the problem is a shared one. "Can't any of you so-called geniuses keep track of who's who, just for a damn minute? I know I look like Chekov but I'm McCoy, and the kid looks like me, but he's Chekov. Got that?"
Chekov looks up and nods with a fierce expression. "It is not difficult to understand this switch."
"Indeed," Spock says. "My apologies, Doctor, Ensign. It would serve you well to rest, given the possible trauma your systems have experienced, which we cannot yet properly ascertain. I will work with Doctor M'Benga and the science department to review this past occurrence and devise a solution."
"Forget it," McCoy says, shaking his head vigorously, curls bouncing. "I'm working with you on that."
"That would be unwise, as we do not yet have an accurate idea of the severity of the situation and the inherent risk in—"
"I'm staying," McCoy insists, and then Kirk steps forward, laying a hand on his partner's unusually slight shoulder.
"No, you're going back to our quarters with me and that's an order," he says. Sulu jerks his head up at that and frowns.
"Hey, wait. You can't take him to bed with you when he...when he looks like..."
Kirk exhales. "I know what he looks like, Hikaru. But this is Bones."
"Yes, and I am Pavel, Hikaru," Chekov adds, arching a brow in a way that sends a weird shiver down Sulu's spine. "So do not be ridiculous."
Sulu gapes at all of them for a few seconds and then folds his arms over his chest. "Okay, fine. So, Jim, you'd be completely fine with it if I had sex with Pavel while he looks like McCoy?"
Kirk gives Chekov an appraising look, as if appearances aren’t deceiving and he's the partner Kirk knows and loves; but then the navigator frowns at him and folds his arms protectively over his chest, returning the captain's gaze with a wary and icy one of his own.
"Um...okay," Kirk concedes, nodding. "No sex until it's fixed. Deal?" He extends a hand and Sulu takes it for the shake.
"Deal."
"We are standing right here!" Chekov complains. He stands and pushes his PADD off on Spock, who looks more than happy to back away from the impending melodrama. "I will have sex with my boyfriend if I want to! Come on, Hikaru." And he grabs Sulu's hand with one of his own, much larger in size and tighter in grip than Sulu is used to, and starts to drag him out of sickbay, leaving behind a bewildered looking Kirk and a grumpy doctor in Chekov's body, still scowling with his hands planted firmly on his hips.
"But they—" Sulu protests weakly.
Chekov doesn't stop pulling.
Back in his quarters, Sulu sits on the edge of the bed and watches as Chekov undresses, revealing a body that he doesn't recognize. McCoy is broad and tanned, a product of the American South, whereas Chekov is lithe and toned, as pale as the winter sky that drifts over his native land. It's a little exciting, watching this new version of his boyfriend, glimpsing these stretches of skin he's not meant to see; moreover, he misses the familiar planes of Chekov's form, the delicate curvature of his ears and nose juxtaposed with the calculating glimmer of his sharp gaze.
After a few minutes, Chekov catches him staring and smiles with one side of his mouth.
"You don't like me this way, do you? Is okay."
"No, I..." Sulu starts to shake his head, laughing at the absurdity of the situation and pawing at his face. "I don't know the right answer to that question, actually."
"There is no right or wrong answer." Chekov sniffs and walks over to the bed in his shorts. Sulu almost wants to look away from the sight of all that bare flesh—flesh that doesn't actually belong to Chekov. But this is Chekov—he knows as much when he feels gentle fingers along his shoulders, running into his hair. That's definitely Chekov's touch. "I know this is odd for you. It is odd for me, too. I feel so..." He looks himself over and wrinkles his upturned nose. "Bulky."
Sulu laughs and reaches up to touch Chekov's hair, which feels nice and silky, though he misses the slightly frizzed curls. "You're not bulky. You're handsome, really. McCoy's a handsome guy. But...I do miss you. Your body. Spock and M'Benga will get it back, though."
"Da," Chekov says, and it's so bizarre to hear that come out of McCoy's mouth, that they both end up laughing. Sulu has to admit that McCoy's smile is particularly gorgeous; he's not sure he's actually ever seen it more than once. He can't help but wonder how often Kirk gets to see it.
"I keep wondering," he admits, quietly, "what Jim and McCoy are doing right now."
"Just talking, like us, I am sure." Chekov laughs when Sulu gives him a disbelieving look. "You don't think so?"
"This is Kirk we're talking about, here."
"Yes, but the captain is a man of his word." Chekov rubs Sulu's thigh gently and exhales, his breath warm when it reaches Sulu's neck. "I suppose he is right and we should not do anything we normally would do."
"Yeah," Sulu agrees. He looks up and bites his lip at the sight of the doctor's face gazing back at him. "Let's just go to sleep."
They get into bed and when the lights are dimmed and the covers pulled up, Chekov gives Sulu a shy yet knowing smile before he leans over and kisses him. In the morning, there's no telling how Kirk and McCoy will act or if they'll be truthful about what they did tonight, but in the long run, Sulu supposes it doesn't matter much; despite the unusual lips and the hazel eyes peering at him from beneath dark lashes, he can feel Chekov here in their bed, pressed all along his side, suffusing the same warm glow he always does, just from a different vessel—a beautiful vessel, not only because it carries Chekov's spirit. And as he parts his lips for the slick slide of Chekov's clever tongue, Sulu decides that nothing much else matters; that it's not wrong. In any bodies, any forms, he and Chekov would surely find each other.