"I have never particularly enjoyed it," Chekov announced.

"Never enjoyed Valentine's Day?" Sulu repeated incredulously. "Why not?"

The ensign shrugged took another sip of coffee. "It just seemed like an excuse for whoever I was with to become angry with me."

Sulu laughed. "That should only happen when you forget."

"I always forgot," Chekov admitted. "That is why I'm glad I'm..." The ensign paused to scan the rec room for eavesdroppers, before finishing conservatively, "...Glad I am not dating any woman this year."

Lt. Sulu, knowing that he was the "not woman" that Chekov was "not dating," had to smile at this reticence. "If you always forget, then why are we talking about Valentine's Day?"

The ensign shifted uncomfortably. "I was wondering if you had any plans."

The helmsman's smile broadened evily. "I might."

The navigator frowned. "Nothing elaborate, I hope."

Sulu was beginning to catch on. The ensign's state of alarm had Uhura's fingerprints all over it. As far as Chekov knew, the Communications officer had no knowledge of the helm partners' affair. She had been torturing the ensign with impunity for weeks now. She'd probably frightened the Russian with some outlandish Valentine's Day antics from Sulu's past that she'd invented. "Elaborate?" the lieutenant repeated nonetheless. "What does that mean?"

Chekov shrugged uncooperatively. "I don't know."

The lieutenant set his lips into a firm line. "Exactly what is it that you want to avoid?" he asked, knowing the ensign was overdue for a good lecture on the interpersonal dangers of continuing to live in denial of his new-found bisexuality.

Instead of frankly expressing his discomfort with public displays of affection as Sulu was anticipating he would, Chekov screwed up his face like a petulant nine-year-old and replied, "Flowers and chocolate. I hate them."

Sulu made a valiant effort not to laugh, but could tell he wasn't going to be able to use the situation as he wished. Chekov's reply was too naive, too damnably, endearlingly cute to segue properly into his planned sermonette. Besides it gave him a deliciously wicked idea....

"Well," he said, smiling. "You shouldn't worry about that one bit."

Chekov, who was beginning to recognize the look of a deliciously wicked plan being hatched, frowned suspiciously. "What?"

"Just put the thought from your mind, buddy." Sulu patted his helm partner's arm. "I'll take care of you."

*** *** ***

"Bozhe Moi." Chekov blinked in amazement at the state of the lieutenant's cabin when he entered a few days later. "What the hell is this?"

The room was draped with scarlet and dusty rose swathes of silk. Lacey heart-shaped pillows of all sizes were scattered willy-nilly. Sulu himself was dressed in an old-fashioned tuxedo with a red bow-tie. An identical outfit was laid out on the poofy satin comforter-covered bed.

"You *do* forget completely about Valentine's Day, don't you?" the helmsman said, locking the door behind his friend and lowering the lights.

"You said you weren't going to do this," Chekov accused, folding his arms.

"No." Sulu crossed to light the red wax candles placed on most of the room's flat surfaces. "I said you didn't need to worry about it -- And you don't."

"I am not so certain about that," the ensign said as Sulu picked up the tux jacket and shirt.

"Obviously you're experiencing some post-traumatic Valentine's Day stress," the lieutenant concluded. "What you need is work through your valentineophobia in a safe environment with a therapist you trust. You do trust me, don't you, Pavel?"

Chekov raised a dubious eyebrow. "At the moment, no."

"I see." Sulu nodded sagely and put his free arm around his helm partner's waist. "I forgot to establish a positive therapist/patient bond first, didn't I?"

When the ensign opened his mouth to answer, the lieutenant pulled him into a kiss.

Chekov left his arms stubbornly crossed for a moment, but soon began to thaw under the insistent heat of his partner's lips. First one hand then the other moved down to caress the lieutenant's hips, pulling their bodies more tightly together.

When Sulu tugged at the bottom of the navigator's shirt, Chekov pulled it off without hesitation.

"Here," he said, handing the ensign a shirt when his partner reached for him. "Get dressed."

Chekov growled with frustration as the lieutenant walked over to pour two glasses of wine. "You are a strange man, Hikaru Sulu," he accused, shouldering into the starched white shirt.

"Extreme circumstances sometimes call for extreme actions," the helmsman responded, handing his lover both glasses while he tied the red bowtie in place. He then retrieved his glass and took the ensign by the arm. "Now," he said, leading him over to the room's small table for two. "Let's talk about your fear of chocolate..."

Chekov rolled his eyes as he took a seat opposite the helmsman. The little table was filled with covered dishes, candles, and a vase of roses. "I'm not afraid of chocolate."

"Good." Sulu put his elbows against the table and steepled his fingers thoughtfully. "But you do claim to *dislike* chocolate...."

"Hikarushka," the navigator protested. "This isn't necessar...."

"You aren't allergic, are you?" the lieutenant demanded abruptly.

"No, I..."

"That's good." Sulu poured a little more wine into his companion's glass. "So, could your feelings about chocolate be the result of an unpleasant experience from childhood?"

Chekov sighed resignedly and sipped his wine. "No."

"Can you put your finger on exactly what it is you dislike?" Sulu leaned forward, pressing two fingers to his lips in an imitation of rapt analytical attention. "Is it the texture? the color? the sweetness? or perhaps bitterness? Do you equally dislike all varieties or...?"

"Actually," the ensign interrupted. "I don't dislike it at all."

"Ah!" Sulu nodded and stroked his chin as if this admission had profound significance.

"I simply have never thought chocolates were a very good gift for a.... supposedly intimate occasion," Chekov explained.

"Because..." the helmsman prompted.

"Well..." The Russian shrugged. "It's not really very personal... or even romantic. What's romantic about giving food?"

The lieutenant reached over and patted his partner's hand. "This is good. Very good. We're already making progress."

"Are we?" Chekov asked as the helmsman rose and crossed behind him.

"I'm very encouraged," Sulu said, reaching over the navigator's shoulder to uncover one of the trays before him. "On to phase two...."

On the tray rested a red satin padded sleepmask trimmed in lace and embroidered with hearts. Chekov raised an eyebrow at it. "What's that for?"

"Sensory deprivation is sometimes helpful in focusing the patient's concentration on the root causes of his anxiety," the lieutenant explained lifting it from the tray.

"Right now, you are the cause of my anxiety, 'Karushka," Chekov retorted, lifting his hands protectively to prevent the mask from being fitted into place.

"A little transference of hostilities is perfectly normal for this phase of the proceedings," Sulu soothed, pushing the ensign's hands away gently. "You do *want* to be cured, don't you?"

"Do I really have a choice?" the navigator asked as the mask was fastened over his eyes. "This isn't going to hurt, is it?"

"Why?" the helmsman responded innocently, as he lifted the covers from more dishes. "Do you want it to?"

"No!"

"Just checking to be sure." Sulu turned the ensign so he was sitting at an angle to the table and then knelt down between his partner's knees. "In this sort of therapy, the desires of the patient are of paramount importance."

"Well, what this patient desires most is to....." Chekov let his sentence trail off as the helmsman's hand settled in his lap.

"Sometimes a vigorous massage helps relax the patient," Sulu explained.

The navigator cleared his throat. "Ah, then, that seems to be working... at least to a certain extent."

The helmsman grinned. "Yes. I can see the extent to which it is working."

"Mmmm." The ensign leaned back in his chair. "Phase two isn't so bad."

"This isn't phase two," Sulu said, using his free hand to take an item out of one of the dishes and dip it into the second. "This is phase two," he informed the ensign, putting the delicacy to his lover's full lips.

Chekov's mouth was already a little open, but Sulu didn't force the chocolate covered strawberry inside. He watched as the tip of his lover's pink tongue carefully explored the unidentified offering. The ensign bit into the treat -- just a small bit at first, but that was followed by a more aggressive attack. Chekov took the entire remainder into his mouth at once, then greedily licked the leftover juice from Sulu's fingers.

"You're not afraid of chocolate at all, are you?" the lieutenant asked, impressed.

"We're going to ruin this shirt," the navigator warned.

"Its presence is not required for the later stages," Sulu conceded. "I suppose we could remove it at this juncture, if you wish."

"I don't know why you bother to dress me up at all," Chekov said as the helmsman untied the bow tie with his teeth.

"Really?" Sulu paused long enough to brush his lips against the navigator's. "Care to take a wild guess?"

"Perhaps because you like to *undress* me?" the ensign hypothesized.

The helmsman rewarded him by licking the last traces of chocolate from the corners of his mouth.

"I must be right," Chekov deduced. "Would I also be correct in assuming that the remainder of Phase two will consist of my sampling other ... um, *delicacies* covered in chocolate?"

Sulu kissed a soft line up to the ensign's ear. "Are you objecting?"

"No." The ensign's fingers found the buttons of the helmsman's shirt and began to undo them. "But I would like to suggest a modification."

"A good therapist must be adaptable," Sulu conceded at the navigator unfastened his pants.

Chekov pushed the mask back. His eyes pupils were so dilated that his eyes looked black. They glittered hungrily in the candlelight. "I'd like to dispense with the candy coating and concentrate on the sampling."

The lieutenant caught his breath as his helmpartner pushed his pants aside and took him into his mouth. "Oh, my," he gasped as the navigator sampled the entire length of him. "Adaptability sure does have its rewards...."

With subtle direction from the ensign's hands, Sulu spread his knees further, resting his hands on Chekov's shoulders for balance. The ensign attacked him with gusto, sucking hard and swallowing him over and over again.

After a few moments, the navigator surfaced for air, his eyes wide, his color high, and his breathing irregular.

"Huh?" Sulu queried, dazed.

The ensign finally recaptured enough oxygen to gasp, "On the bed."

Chekov's guiding hand on his back informed Sulu that this was a command, not a request. "What are you doing? he asked, as the navigator gently bent him over the satin covered bunk.

"Moving us on to phase three," the ensign replied, reaching for a tube of lubricant.

"Oh." The lieutenant helpfully removed his trousers. "Deciding to take an active part in your treatment?"

"Yes." The navigator pressed his partner back down to the bunk and rapidly prepare him. "I've decided it's time create a more intimate therapist/patient connection."

"Oh, my," Sulu gasped as he was penetrated. "Oh, my."

"You approve?" Chekov asked working inward.

"Mmmm." The helmsman had to admit his was impressed. "That's quite a deep connection you've established."

"Could be deeper," the navigator promised.

Sulu's eyes rolled back in his head as his partner made good on his boast. Stretching his legs out in one direction and his chest, shoulders and head in the other, he snuggled against the soft comforter as the ensign worked him slowly.

The helmsman was surprized by his partner's display of control. Usually the very passionate Chekov usually tended to... No sooner had the thought occurred than Sulu could feel the ensign beginning to lose it. The navigator's thrusts began to come hard and fast, losing the measured regularity of rhythm.

Sulu smiled and gripped the covers. Control was nice, but this was the Chekov he knew and loved. The ensign pistoned into again and again pushing them both inexorably to the edge. At the very moment, the helmsman thought the navigator was too consumed with his own pleasure to remember him, Chekov's hand wrapped around him, caressing him. Sulu was moved by the gesture -- So moved, in fact, that his blinding, teeth-jarring orgasm was only seconds behind the ensign's own.

They remained joined together for an immeasurable time afterwards, floating on their shared bliss. It took a while for Sulu to sort out his senses and remembered to whom they belonged and how they functioned.

Chekov finally withdrew and collapsed beside his partner, unable to move anything cumbersome than his lungs.

When Sulu caught his breath enough, he laughed. "Happy Valentine's Day."

"Thank you," The ensign tried to laugh, but was too exhausted to manage it. He rolled his head over so he could kiss his lover's shoulder. "Sorry for spoiling your plans," he said, "but I can assure you that I am completely cured of any valentineophobia I ever entertained."

"Really?" Sulu grinned, then made a face. "Well, damn."

"You're disappointed?"

"Yeah." The helmsman wrapped an affectionate arm around the ensign's chest and nuzzled his neck. "You shoulda seen what I had planned for the flowers..."

*END*