Word count: 1249
Summary: Kirk and Sulu achieve terminal velocity.
"Sulu, what's the fastest you've ever gone?" Captain Kirk asked, somewhat dreamily.
Hikaru stared at him in surprise. They'd been at the bar for a while, despite its sticky counters and turpentine-flavored booze, but the captain hadn't had that much to drink. "Um, warp eight, sir." He hoped the 'duh' wasn't obvious in his voice.
The captain shook his head. "Kirk is fine, Sulu. Or Jim, if you prefer. And I don't mean the speed of anything utilizing a subspace field. I'm talking about planet-bound transportation, subject to Newtonian physics."
Hikaru felt his astonishment ease as it became obvious that the captain wasn't non compos mentis quite yet. "I'm not sure."
"You ever train as a shuttle pilot?"
"Nope," Hikaru said. "I went straight into Starfleet after I graduated high school."
"Do any drag racing as a kid?" the captain asked, smirking in a way that suggested he certainly had.
Hikaru snorted. "Ca-- Kirk. I grew up in San Francisco. I never even learned to drive a car."
Kirk's eyes, which had begun to droop with alcohol and the late hour, opened wide. "You're kidding me."
Hikaru shook his head and took another sip of his drink.
"From walking to piloting a spaceship is a pretty big jump."
"I can also ride a bicycle," Hikaru told him, but Kirk didn't even crack a smile, apparently still shocked by Hikaru's admission.
"Next time we're on Earth, I'll teach you to drive," he said after some thought. "Okay?"
"Sure." After piloting the Enterprise, Hikaru was pretty sure that a vehicle that moved along a single plane and whose controls consisted of a few levers and a wheel would be a snap.
Kirk grinned. "Awesome." He took another swig of his beer, and said, "So, your fastest speed before was probably, what, thirty, thirty-five kilometers per hour?"
"My fastest speed before when?"
"Before we took that dive off the drill platform," Kirk said, sounding faintly surprised that Hikaru had to ask. Hikaru took a moment to appreciate Kirk's terminology--"we" rather than "you" and "dive" rather than "pratfall"--and to wonder why Kirk couldn't employ the same tactfulness all the time. "How fast do you think we were going by the end?"
"We fell far enough to reach terminal velocity," Hikaru said, his interest finally piqued. "Vulcan's gravitational acceleration is 16.7 meters per second squared."
"Vulcan atmosphere is 0.64 kilograms per meter cubed," Kirk added. "Mass is 79 kg plus about 20 kg for our gear minus two parachutes plus--"
"68 kg," Hikaru said. "Say maybe 0.56 square meters for area and 1.4 for the drag coefficient..."
"We can use the Enterprise computer to get more accurate figures later," Kirk murmured.
Hikaru nodded, still calculating, and said, "104.5 meters per second!" a minute later, his voice overlapping with Kirk's as they got the answer at almost the same instant. "Hot damn," he added.
"My thoughts exactly," Kirk said, raising his beer bottle to clink it against Hikaru's.
The fourth unknown planet they came across on their mission was inhabited by a species so isolationist that not only did they refuse to answer the Enterprise's hails, they hit her with something that overloaded the systems and sent the ship straight into warp ten.
Every member of the bridge crew clung to their stations as the ship rattled around them, while Scotty shouted increasingly incomprehensible status updates over the intercom. In the background, Hikaru could hear Uhura recording a swift yet comprehensive outline of their interaction with the unnamed planet and its location, preparing a subspace message for Starfleet command that would reach them even in the event of the Enterprise's destruction.
Hikaru, for his part, was preoccupied by his struggle to pilot what was in effect a runaway spaceship, with frequent astonished glances at the readings scrolling by on the side of his console.
He could see Chekov's fingers flying across his own console, as he and Spock threw their own suggestions at Scotty. Half the time they received a short, "Tried that," or a more effusive, "Only if you don't mind tearing this ship apart from stem to stern," and half the time Scotty would answer, "Good idea!" only to follow it up twenty seconds later with, "Didn't work."
Hikaru did his best to ignore the interchange while also keeping an ear out for Scotty's occasional instructions to try something else on his end. Either Scotty would figure out how to fix the ship, or he wouldn't; Hikaru's only concern was to keep her flying as true as possible for as long as he could.
As a result, he missed whatever brilliant solution Scotty came up with. The ship dropped out of warp with a painful shudder, and Hikaru scrambled to regain control of the ship, heartrate racing for several seconds before it became obvious that they were in empty space and not dangerously close to a sun or other cosmic hazard.
"Excellent work, Mr. Scott," Kirk called, echoed by cheers and congratulations from several of the bridge crew.
There was the sound of footsteps behind Hikaru's station. "Mr. Sulu." Kirk's hand fell on his shoulder; Hikaru could feel the restrained tension in his fingers, the slight shake as the adrenaline rush began to wear off. "Nice flying."
Hikaru had never done the one night stand thing. He'd had relationships before, and some of them had definitely involved sex. But that happened after he'd gotten to know them fairly well: taken classes with them, worked on group projects, gone on a few dates.
Sleeping with Jim Kirk when they'd known each other a grand total of five weeks, before he'd even gotten comfortable calling the man by his first name, ought to have felt a lot weirder than it did. Apparently, Kirk was rubbing off on him. No pun intended.
"Fuck," Kirk said, and his legs tightened around Hikaru's waist and shoulder. "Harder, c'mon."
"Told you... we shoulda... done it... hands and knees," Hikaru gasped, even as he did his best to oblige.
The slap of flesh on flesh was loud in the spacious captain's cabin, punctuated occasionally by Kirk's muttered encouragement, until he groaned and his body tightened even further around Hikaru's cock as he came.
Released from the imperative to follow the breakneck pace that Kirk apparently required to get off, Hikaru slowed down a little, thrusting deeper into his pliant, relaxed body.
"C'mon," Kirk murmured, apparently under the misapprehension that Hikaru needed further encouragement. Heat pooled at the base of Hikaru's spine, and he was only able to keep going another half a minute before he slammed his hips forward once, twice, and came with a loud groan.
It was a struggle to not collapse on top of Kirk's welcoming body, but he managed to pull out carefully, then let himself fall to Kirk's side in the absurdly large captain's bed.
Kirk edged closer and kissed his cheek, the corner of his mouth. Hikaru smiled and turned onto his side to meet Kirk's mouth in a sweet, lazy kiss that seemed out of character for what Hikaru knew of the captain, but which was more than welcome.
Eventually, Kirk pulled away to say, "You wanna take a nap, go for round two in half an hour or so?" which was far more like what Hikaru had expected of him.
Hikaru grinned and kissed him again. "That sounds just my speed."