Work Text:
Four hundred and six civilian deaths in the attack. Out of the several million it could have been, the victory was outstanding. For Hikaru, four hundred and six civilians was too many.
Krall was still on-board. Krall was still alive. Chekov relayed the Captain’s orders as they stalked through the ship, Sulu with his eyes forwards, Chekov pressed against his back.
He’d recognised the buildings as the ship had surfaced from the city’s waterway. He and Ben had walked down the banks, Kim swinging between them, half a week ago. He’d known how to orient himself and to land on Krall’s ship because he knew the town, knew the buildings, knew the pathway.
Ben , his heart ached, his hands gripped tight around his blaster. Kim . He’d read the city’s damage reports even as the bridge had let out a small cry of victory. Four hundred and six civilians. A ten minute walk from the waterway to their house. A nice day, a weekend, Ben and Hikaru’s favourite path. Ben and Kim walking, the alarms sounding, alien ships and debris falling from the sky—
Krall was still on-board. Krall was still alive. He and Chekov sent one way, to investigate. Krall was the priority.
“Captain says Krall has er,” Chekov paused. “Shapeshifted. The ship is clear.”
Hikaru slotted his blaster in its holster in a slick movement as he moved for the nearest computer.
“I wonder if I misheard, that Krall shapeshifted.”
“No,” Hikaru said. “You didn’t.”
“Sulu?” Chekov asked, following him. “What are you doing?”
“Ben,” Hikaru replied, simply. He felt Chekov go still beside him, the young, bubbling energy of action fizzling to nothing.
“They did not leave Yorktown?” Chekov’s voice was quiet, attempting not to disturb Hikaru’s typing.
Hikaru gripped the screen, fingers stilling. “I made them move.”
“Oh,” Chekov said, falling quiet.
-
Hikaru felt giddy. Yorktown. Yorktown . It was like a dream come true. An outpost that the Enterprise would use, frequently, for shore-leave. A city capable of holding millions of civilians. It had schools, it had Starfleet, it had shops and waterways and, best of all, it could have Ben, and Kim. If Hikaru couldn’t go home for five years, he was sure as hell going to bring his home as close to him as possible.
He had received the alert two months before Yorktown had been completed. It had come from the Federation, telling the officers that they, and their families, had priority access to the newly created homes and schools. Two months, Hikaru thought, and he could see his family. His husband, his daughter, and they could have a home together again. Five years had not seemed long when he had left. Two more years sounded impossible.
Yorktown. If they lived there, Ben, and him, and Kim, Hikaru could take a year off, maybe two, before taking another commission. At the end of their mission, Hikaru was more than sure he’d be assigned his own ship. Promotion to Captain. The crew of the Enterprise might stay together, take another five years, another ten, but Hikaru wanted to see Kim grow, just for a while. He did not regret joining the crew of the Enterprise, but he’d learnt from his mistake anyway.
He’d take shorter commissions, or ones with more regular leaves. He’d be home for Kim’s birthday, and for his and Ben’s anniversary. They’d go to a restaurant, and he’d order the most expensive thing on the menu, because Ben was worth it.
Ben was raising Kim so well it almost made Hikaru jealous. Ben and Kim would send him video messages, showing him what Hikaru was missing. Kim was happy. Ben was happy. They did so well without him. It was stupid, he knew, but he wanted to be there. He wanted his family. He wanted his husband.
The video-call finally went through, and Ben’s face lit up as their feeds synchronised. “ Hikaru ,” Ben said, by way of greeting.
“Hey,” Hikaru replied, feeling breathless, like he was meeting Ben for their first date all over again. “I missed you.”
“I’ve missed you too.” Ben’s smile was soft, and hurt, and glad. Ben worried, Hikaru knew, that every videocall was the last. That a Klingon ship would destroy the Enterprise, or that Hikaru’s parachute wouldn’t open and he’d hurtle towards a planet with nothing but a fencing sword and hope. “What?” Ben asked as Hikaru’s lips grew into a grin.
“I was thinking about that time I told you about the parachute.”
Ben’s face fell, like he was reliving the conversation. “Don’t you dare tell me it’s happened again, Hikaru Sulu, or so help me—” Ben’s scolding tone wore off as Hikaru’s expression turned fond. “Or so help me I’ll make you regret it, you hear me?”
“You say that to my face, Benjamin Sulu,” Hikaru said. “You come here and you say it to my face.”
Ben snorted, running his fingers through his hair. “You wish. You wish you could get me on that death trap of a ship.”
“This place could use some flowers. I’ll ask the Captain what he thinks.”
“Wouldn’t that breach some sort of universal code? Bringing flowers from different solar systems onto foreign planets…”
Hikaru could name more than a dozen textbook examples of Ben being right. “You’re supposed to be a florist, Ben, you’re supposed to sell flowers, not tell your customer they’ll destroy entire ecosystems.”
“Oh,” Ben said, leaning back in his seat. “That reminds me…” His voice went distant for a second as his face went out of shot, ducking underneath the computer desk. “I did a wedding yesterday, and they asked for these…” Ben held a handful of bright white flowers, tiny, the stems intense and green, like stars on stalks.
A surge of emotion coursed through Hikaru. He could smell the flowers now, woven through the church pews. Ben had done their flowers, had had to be forced into it, but had done it because Hikaru had asked, and his fingertips had been stained green by the stems, and it had made Hikaru laugh as he’d slipped the ring onto Ben’s finger.
Ben had been so self-conscious, had been on the verge of crying, but Hikaru was crying anyway, and the flowers had smelled sweet, and it hadn’t mattered that neither of them had family in the pews.
Hikaru wanted to touch the flowers, to take them from Ben’s hand and inhale their soft scent. Instead, he stopped himself from welling up by picturing Ben, walking down the aisle, hands in his pockets to prevent anyone seeing the stains.
“Please tell me you made the groom touch the flowers.”
Ben laughed; a beautiful sound. “Both brides were far too sensible to go anywhere near them.”
They talked about the shop, how it had seen a rise in weddings recently, and how Kim had started a side-business for them, tying flowers into crowns for a few credits. Ben put the wedding bouquet down, setting a crown atop his head with pride, and holding a second, matching one out towards the camera. “This one is for Papa.”
Ben turned the crown around so that Hikaru could have a good look at it. “It’s very yellow,” Hikaru observed, wishing he could’ve watched Kim putting the thing together.
“Because Papa has a yellow uniform, of course.” Ben was smiling. “She wants me to repaint the entire shop, and to change our uniforms so we match you.”
Here was his chance. The giddiness from earlier returned. “Don’t paint it yet.”
Ben tilted his head, confused by the statement. “Did you change shirts?”
“No, I— I want to move to Yorktown, I want to chase this commission. Come with me.”
Ben searched Hikaru’s eyes for the joke, his face blank.
The giddiness in Hikaru’s gut turned to queasiness. “Ben,” he tried, “From now on, the Enterprise’s shore-leave will always be in Yorktown. Federation members get first dibs on housing. You, me, Kim, we can buy a house there. You can have your shop, paint it yellow.”
“No.”
Hikaru was expecting it, but it still hurt.
“Ben,” Hikaru said, his voice not yet ready to plead. Hikaru hated that his voice sounded like a warning, like Hikaru was in charge. “Please.”
“Where even is Yorktown, Hikaru? Do you know?”
“I can send you the coordinates now, if you want, it’s not that far—”
Ben was taking off his crown, placing it to the side. His face was stony. “I don’t want to move, Hikaru. Taking Kim out of school, out of her life, out of her planet ?”
Hikaru looked down at his desk, feeling his eyes prick. He just wanted to be with his family. He just wanted to be close. To know they were only one shore-leave away. He nodded. He understood. Who knew if Yorktown would be safe? The schools would be new, the houses new, everything new. Ben liked nature. He liked old-fashioned. He wanted his daughter to grow up knowing what flowers smelled like, and what it was to take care of a wooden house. Ben was only thinking about Kim. He nodded again.
“I’m sorry, Hikaru.”
“I thought it would make it easier,” Hikaru said, his voice cracking, just slightly. “But I know you have to think about Kim. I know you have to do what’s best. It’s just…” Hikaru sighed, his breath shaky. “Hard.”
Ben closed his eyes, his own resolution faltering. Hikaru had to respect Ben’s wishes. Hikaru knew that Ben could be easy to manipulate, had been manipulated his entire life. Hikaru did not want to be one of the many men who had abused Ben’s trust.
“Hikaru, you’re asking me to move us to a remote outpost because of your career.”
Hikaru nodded, again, knowing it to be true and helpless to the implications.
Ben sighed, and Hikaru looked back towards the screen, watching Ben play with the starry flowers, watching him pluck petals one by one. “I’ll think about it, okay?” Ben met Hikaru’s eye.
Hikaru's nod was not hopeful, but thankful.
“You’re the only family I have left,” Ben said, not letting Hikaru look away. “I want Kim to grow up well, but I want you to be happy, too, so I’ll think about it.”
Hikaru touched his knuckle to his screen, wishing he could feel Ben, could put his arms around his shoulders, could share his warmth, kiss his jaw. “I love you.”
“I love you too.” Ben stroked his own screen, fingers curving as if tracing Hikaru’s cheek. “Next time, call when it’s not 2 AM.” The unexpected humour in Ben’s voice dissolved the lump in Hikaru’s throat. “Kim told me to tell you that only bad people are awake at 2 AM, and that she doesn’t want you trying to make me a bad person.”
“You tell her that Papa says it’s okay to stay up until 2 AM, because Papa is the good dad and Daddy is the nerdy dad.”
“Don’t you dare say that to her face, Hikaru, do you know how hard it is trying to make her go to bed at a reasonable time? If her hero Papa told her to stay awake, she’d kill herself trying to do it.”
“We both know that Kim’s real hero is her Daddy.” Hikaru stroked the photo of Kim he had taped to the corner of his personal computer; an older photo than the one on the bridge. “I know he’s mine.”
“Says the Federation’s best pilot at 25 with a PhD in Astrophysics, the founder of Starfleet Academy's European Swordsmanship club and top of his class in botany...”
“Ben,” Hikaru reprimanded, feeling the accomplishments like a bruise.
“Sorry,” Ben said. “It’s just. I want you to be safe.” He laughed. “I wish you were shit at your job, so you could come home.”
“You’re the reason I’m here, Ben. You’re the reason I’m good at my job.”
It was Ben’s turn to be reduced to wordless nodding. Then he sighed, which turned into a yawn.
“You’d better go get some sleep.” Hikaru checked the time converter app he kept open on every personal piece of equipment he owned; a quick trick he used to make himself feel closer to his family. “I’ll talk to you soon, and I promise I’ll try to grab a slot when Kim’s awake. ...I love you, Ben.”
“Love you too, Hikaru. Stay safe.” The first words were soft, the second were a command. Hikaru wondered what point he would have to be at to disobey Kirk’s orders to obey Ben’s.
-
Hikaru Sulu had been a trophy for Hosato and Yoshiko Sulu to shine. He had been an elder son, an elder brother. He had had to accomplish. His siblings were smart, too, but they had not had to fight against a culture 200 years behind the times. Yuki had estranged herself from the family long before Hikaru was old enough to have bonded with her. Aiko had had a girlfriend of two years when Hikaru joined Starfleet, eighteen, having been single his entire life.
Hikaru's dorm was off campus, and every day, he had had to walk a couple of blocks to get to class. For over a year, Hikaru had walked past the same shop, twice a day, barely noticing its presence but for the occasional sniff as he registered a sweet-smelling rose, or to jump over a puddle of water, pooling after the staff had watered the plants.
Hikaru was trying to stuff formulas into his head for his finals when a flower blocked his path. He stared at it, the red head limp against the pavement, while his mind repeated letters in a cycle. He couldn’t understand why there was a flower in his path. It was so bright. Beautiful. Rosa rugosa, the botanist within him supplied. An invasive species in North America. Native to East Asia.
Hikaru bent to pick it up, only to have his hand met with another, also attempting to rescue the flower from certain death. They pulled back, simultaneous. Hikaru stood, flushing. He had not registered another person beside him.
“Head in the clouds?” the man asked, successfully retrieving the flower and giving it a once-over.
“Yeah, sorry, I’m, finals, sorry. Did I step on it?” Closer, now, Hikaru could see that the flower was not perfect, that it was lopsided and that the stem had snapped, close to the head.
“It’s a bit crushed, I’m sorry to say. Can’t sell it.” The man, Ben, his nametag read, licked his lips, before meeting Hikaru’s eye with a sort of anxious determination. He held out the rose. “For you.”
Any thought of finals, of equations, of space, of botany, of being the best darn pilot in the Federation, they were destroyed by the sight of this man, holding out a rose, his cheeks pink, his hair a mess, his lips bitten.
Hikaru took the rose, dumbstruck. “Thank you.”
Ben nodded, deep enough that it could have been a half-bow. “I hope your studies go well,” Ben said, before high-tailing it into the shop, not looking back. Hikaru kept the rose pressed to his nose as he walked, taking in deep breaths of the smell and thinking about Ben.
-
The next time Hikaru saw Ben was New Year’s eve.
The short-lived pleasure of the rose had crumbled as its petals had fallen, and Hikaru had convinced himself that the man had simply given the rose to him because he happened to be there. It was harder to fall for Ben than he’d wished it could be. In Ben he saw another family like his own, another closet. ...The rose had been a marketing ploy, to make Hikaru want to shop at the place because the proprietors were charming, and nice, and sweet…
He stood on the threshold of the shop and felt his heart beat quick in his chest. Ben was there with his back to Hikaru, bent over a bucket of flowers, arranging them with delicate fingers.
Hikaru didn’t want to disturb Ben at work, so he took a quiet step forwards, into the shop, then promptly tripped over a bucket, grasped at air and found himself windmilling his arms to keep straight.
Ben, shocked by the initial clamour, had whirled, coloured to see Hikaru, blanched at the accident, and leapt, evidently without thinking, towards Hikaru to keep him from falling. He ended up overcompensating too much and tackling Hikaru to the floor.
It was safe to say that Hikaru had made a good second-impression. When they had finished laughing, they untangled themselves and dusted off their clothes.
“What can I do you for, then?” Ben was smiling like Hikaru was an old customer, a good friend. It occurred to Hikaru that Ben might not even remember him.
“I, er…” Hikaru glanced around him. “I need half a dozen roses.”
“Oh,” Ben had said, regaining his composure. “Right, of course. What colour?”
Hikaru scratched his forehead as he considered the choices. “Which ones last the longest?”
Ben pointed at the darkest red, the petals barely blooming.
“Okay, then yeah. Those. Please.”
Ben picked six from the bucket and brought them to his table, setting them down on a piece of paper. “For your girlfriend? Boyfriend?”
Hikaru felt his cheeks burn. “No.”
“Oh.” Hikaru wanted to hear a ‘good’ in Ben’s voice.
“They’re for my grandma. Ohakamairi.” He wasn’t even sure Ben would know what that meant, until he saw the flinch of understanding.
“We sell incense, too, if you need it.”
“Oh really? Yeah, please, one box of that too.”
Ben wrapped the roses and handed them over. “Your grandma’s lucky, having a grandson visit her grave on new year’s eve.” Hikaru half-shrugged, then watched as Ben disappeared into the back. He returned with a box of incense.
“On the house.”
Hikaru frowned. “If you keep giving me stuff for free, your business will go bankrupt.”
Ben looked to the floor, then, again, that anxious determination. “I guess you’ll have to find some way to pay me back.”
-
Hikaru had dropped all plans he had made with his starfleet friends so he could pick Ben up from outside the shop at eight. The shop was, he had been told, also Ben’s house, so Ben had had enough time after closing up to get cleaned, changed and shaved.
Hikaru had apologised to his grandma for not staying as long as he should have after cleaning her grave, but he thought she would understand. She was the only one who ever had. He’d run home, cleaned, changed, changed again, panicked, changed again, and decided he’d have to wear something or risk being thought of as a streaker.
He was outside Ben’s house at eight. Ben was waiting for him, bundled in a scarf and puffy, red jacket. He looked warm, and cute. Hikaru regretted the thinner jacket he’d opted for, disregarding the cold to look cool. It was almost worth it when Ben looked up at Hikaru’s approach and stared, unabashedly. It was definitely worth it when, later that evening, Ben had remarked that Hikaru looked cold, and had wrapped one arm around Hikaru’s back. Anxious, determined, warm.
-
“I don’t know how to… do this,” Hikaru admitted. He rested his forehead against Ben’s and breathed.
“We’re not doing anything,” Ben laughed.
“No, but— being in a relationship. Being… with you. Romance. I’ve never…”
“Hikaru, are you saying I’m your first partner?” When Hikaru didn’t reply, Ben pulled back. “Was that your first kiss?”
Hikaru bit his lip. “Was it that bad?”
Ben shook his head, in wonder. “But—” then he blushed, and Hikaru knew it was only the adrenaline kick of the experience that kept Ben talking. “You’re so attractive.”
“Says you.” Hikaru licked his lips, then become incredible conscious of how desperate he might seem for doing so.
“Me?” Ben asked, horrified. “No, no, no. You’re— you’re in a different league to me.”
Hikaru frowned. “You can’t be serious. Ben, you’re…” Hikaru struggled to find any word that could adequately surmise the man. Beautiful, he nearly said. “So fucking hot,” he said instead.
-
They didn’t even RSVP to the wedding. Yuki and Aiko had been on the other side of the universe, couldn’t get leave to return. Hikaru’s parents just hadn’t replied.
Ben had proposed on their fourth anniversary. They adopted Kim two years after.
Hikaru was good at his job because, for the first time, he had piloted a ship and not felt it like a chain, his achievements weighing him down. Ben had loved a man he’d seen trip over a bucket of daffodils, and it had made Sulu want to fly.
-
Four hundred and six civilian deaths in the attack. Hikaru could not find it within himself to feel sorry for the families of the four hundred and six civilians, when the safe zones opened and the citizens of Yorktown streamed out. Ben and Kim must have been some of the last escorted into the zones, he heard himself register, because they were some of the first to come out.
He ground his teeth as lists were checked and rules were cleared, the crowd of people held back for minutes longer as security waved certain people of importance through first. Hikaru ground his teeth and stared, stared at a single spot, where a man and his daughter stood, not noticing they were being watched. But then the daughter got restless and took to scanning the crowds. Met his eye. Lit up, jumped, waved, and Hikaru felt the spell break, the numbing buzz of his brain washed away by sheer relief—
He met Ben’s eye and saw his husband shatter, saw him experience the exact same emotions as Hikaru had felt only seconds before; helpless worry, mindless panic, relief, disbelief, love.
Hikaru started to run as the signal was given, crashing into Kim and Ben, meeting them in the middle. He gripped, tight, felt Ben’s fingernails groove into his skin through the back of his shirt. He pulled himself away to pick up Kim, gripped her, just as tight, wetting the straps of her red dress with his tears.
She clung to his neck, sniffing.
“Papa, you smell like smoke. Smoking is bad for you.”
Hikaru let out a long, breathy laugh. “I haven’t been smoking, baby.” And here he thought she had been sniffing back tears. He loosened his grip on her so he could look at her face, his other arm gripping for Ben, so that they were holding her together. Together, for the first time in what felt like years, and for what had nearly been never again.
“Then why do you smell like smoke?”
“Because my ship crashed.”
“...But you’re the pilot,” Kim said, her brows meeting in the middle. “If it crashes, it’s your fault.”
“Not always, baby. Sometimes, nasty people can make you crash.”
“But your Papa,” Ben interrupted, “And his crew, defeated them. Didn’t you.”
Hikaru grinned. “You bet your ass we did.”
Kim whacked him for saying a rude word. Ben praised their daughter for keeping the peace. Hikaru kissed Ben, saying it was to keep him quiet. Around them, a city watched as the USS Franklin smoked.