FIC: So Close and Yet... [Star Trek XI]
Jun. 12th, 2009 10:08 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
darktrent182TITLE: So Close and Yet...
DISCLAIMER: Star Trek XI doesn't belong to me – the universe belongs to Gene Roddenberry and so many people that if they were all to sue me, various descendants would be in debt up to their eyeballs. Written for entertainment purposes, no money made, please don't sue, yadda.
FANDOM: Star Trek XI
PAIRING: Scotty/Chekov
WORD COUNT: 3,720
RATING: NC-17
WARNINGS: This. Is. Porn.
SUMMARY: A creative solution to not being able to see each other.
CHALLENGE: Written for the Star Trek Kink Meme, because I'm a sheep.
PROMPT: Click here for details.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: Unbeta'd liek woah.
***
He shouldn't have done it, really.
Scotty knew that he might be needed in Engineering, but Miller and Thompson were good men (yes, Thompson wasn't a man, but she was still reliable). There weren't any emergencies on the horizon, and the severe damage from their last brush with Klingon warbirds was well on its way to being fixed.
It hadn't helped his sex life, though.
The few times that Chekov had made a ship-wide announcement from the bridge had been the only times when he saw Chekov face-to-face over the past few weeks, due to the repairs he'd had to supervise. Working with a new crew was always a pain in the arse because it took time to get used to everyone's rhythms, and for them to fall into a cohesive unit that worked well under pressure and could pull miracles out of their collective arses whenever the Captain said to do so. Still, it was an unfortunate fact of life that whenever someone from Engineering beamed down in an away team, they usually didn't come back, and as a result, the Enterprise kept having to get more engineers to fill the gaps, and the process would start again.
Scotty nodded to a few crewmen as he headed out of Engineering, reaching inside his pocket again for the data storage unit that one of the bridge crew had passed to him, saying it was from Chekov about some equations they'd been working on together before the Klingons started giving everyone headaches.
Seeing as how Scotty knew for a fact that they hadn't had anything to argue over except for whether or not Engineering was off-limits for sex (Chekov was for it, which rather surprised Scotty, but Scotty didn't want to risk getting stuck naked in a Jefferies tube and having to get some poor ensign to grease them out. Those damn things were narrow.), Scotty had no idea what he was holding in his hand, except that it was a smaller type of unit, black with a few stylistic designs and a few scuff marks that said louder than anything else that this was Chekov's, and not one from the ship's supplies.
Scotty made it to his quarters, sitting down at his personal computer and plugging in the storage unit. After a few moments, a new window popped up, revealing Chekov in a darkened room, his face lit by the glow of blue lights.
"Mister Scott," Chekov began, his voice as neutral as any ship-wide broadcast. "I have been going over your calculations concerning the transportation of high-welocity matter in a short time frame. Included in this unit are my own calculations, corrections, and suggestions about your theory. I look forward to a response when you are next awailable." The Chekov on the screen paused for a moment, and then winked solemnly before the screen closed.
Scotty blinked. "But we already went through those," he muttered to himself. Frowning, he opened up the directory to look at the contents of the storage unit, and found only one other file. Another recording, instead of text, labeled simply, 'YLT'.
Scotty tried to open it, only to be confronted with a prompt demanding a password in glowing red letters. Nonplussed, he narrowed his eyes and tried the file name. Which... didn't work. Sitting back in his chair, he found himself smiling. There was something on this thing not meant for public consumption.
He tried 'high-velocity matter', a few variations of that phrase, variations on 'calculations, corrections, and suggestions', a few of their own in-jokes, and after five minutes of getting the same error message, Scotty glared at his computer.
"If you were going to make a secret message for me," he muttered to an absent Chekov, "you could've made the password something easier."
In a fit of peevishness, he tapped his commlink. "Scotty to Ensign Chekov."
"Ensign Chekov, here, sir," Chekov chirped. "How can I help you?"
"Well, you can tell me what this bloody password's supposed to be, for starters," Scotty muttered. "I've not cracked it, and I'm wondering if the security's all that necessary."
There was a telling silence, and Chekov coughed a little. "Some of those equations come from sources that would rather not be talked about, sir."
Scotty snorted. If Chekov had known people like that, he could've gotten himself into a lot more trouble in the Academy than he actually had. "All right, then. A hint about the password, if you please?"
"How did you feel when you were on Delta Vega?"
"Wait, come again?" Scotty asked, frowning in confusion.
Chekov repeated the question, and added, "It is one word, less than seven letters. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm needed on the bridge."
The commlink clicked off, leaving Scotty to stare at his computer.
He tried 'hungry'. The computer bleeped a negative.
'Starving' was two letters too long, and resulted in another bleep, and pretty soon, Scotty was beginning to think his computer was cursing at him.
It was only on a whim that he tried 'lonely', and the computer chirped an affirmative before opening another window.
"Well," Scotty said, smiling, "what do you know?"
This window was practically a copy of the one before -- Chekov sitting in a dark room, lit only by the blue lights on his cheeks.
"Hello, Scotty," Chekov murmured, his voice far less formal and far more what Scotty was used to hearing in the mornings after they'd spent the night together. "I... I am not sure what to say."
The recorded Chekov cleared his throat. "Ship-wide broadcasts are one thing, but this...?" He shook his head, smiling sheepishly. "I guess I will muddle through this somehow, and hope you respect me when we see each other again."
He lifted his gaze, staring at the camera head-on. "I... miss you. Yes, I know we are on same ship, only a few decks away, but not seeing you, not hearing your voice... it is difficult."
"Oh, Pavel," Scotty murmured, resting his chin in one hand as he kept watching.
"I was hoping to make this a present, something you could look at when you were lonely," Chekov explained with a shrug, "but your birthday is already passed, so it is late. But... maybe you will make one for me?"
Scotty frowned. "What do you mean by that?"
Chekov smiled a little, ducking his head for a moment before looking up at Scotty through his eyelashes. "You will see," he purred, as if he were the one actually answering Scotty's question instead of being a recording. "Enjoy."
The window went black, and it was the same camera, though a different view. The room was dimly-lit, just the right dimness Scotty liked when they were taking their time with things. Chekov's bed was front and center, far enough to let Scotty see the whole thing, but close enough that he wouldn't have to squint.
Chekov stepped into frame with his back to the camera, wearing his regular uniform. Looking over his shoulder, he smiled.
"Since I cannot be with you in person, I was thinking that maybe I could keep you company this way," he said by way of explanation. "But first, I need to get ready, yes?"
He turned away from the camera, rolling his shoulders, and then his head and neck, taking his time in working out the kinks as though he had all the time in the world. He turned to face the camera, hands grabbing the gold shirt and pulling it slowly upwards, a flash of pale skin bared when the black undershirt rode up. When it was off, Chekov carelessly dropped it on the floor, looking over his shoulder at Scotty to dare him to pick it up.
Scotty's mouth went dry. He'd had his suspicions when he saw the bed first thing, but now he was positive.
Chekov had made him a sex tape.
"Is wery hot in here," Chekov said, his words conversational, but the tone feeling like a caress on Scotty's skin. "How are you feeling?"
Scotty cleared his throat, but didn't reply. His eyes were starting to itch from the need to blink. The trouble was, if he blinked, he might miss Pavel Chekov, Sex God.
Chekov turned around, leaning over to get closer to the screen. "Maybe you should get comfortable," he purred. "This may take a while."
Scotty didn't need to be told twice. He shifted in his chair, settling himself back to enjoy the show.
Chekov tilted his head just a little, looking shy and coy and so devious as he gave Scotty a wicked smile. "There are things I've wanted to say to you, Scotty."
"Things?" Scotty asked, finding himself a bit curious. Chekov held his own during a debate and in regular conversation, sure, but considering what he was doing, Scotty found himself even more intrigued. Chekov didn't say much in bed except for apologizing whenever he knocked something over, or whenever he liked something Scotty was doing.
Long fingers reached up to the undershirt's zipper, the black fabric parting as the teeth separated. "The next time you see me, I want you to pin me against a wall."
Scotty's eyebrows rose. "Oh?"
The pale hand reached the bottom of the shirt, and the fabric slid off, revealing a slender chest with a light sprinkling of blond-brown hair. When the arms were free, the hands returned to Chekov's chest, fingertips lightly touching. "I want to know every time that you've seen this. That you've watched me touch myself, wishing it was you."
Scotty watched the fingers trace lines and curves, circling around nipples until they hardened, and then trailing down to a smooth stomach. The fingers made their way to the waistband of the Starfleet-regulation trousers, toying with the clasp idly, as if they had no idea how much they were driving Scotty crazy.
"I love your hands," Chekov sighed, and Scotty's eyes looked back at his face, watching the Russian's eyes slip closed, his lips parted in a soft sigh.
"Strong..." One hand reached over to grasp a hip. "Nimble..." Fingers flicked across the skin of his stomach, teasing and light. "Responsive..."
He let go of his hip, his hand moving slowly until his index finger reached his lips. He leaned in, a flicker of teeth nibbling on the tip before his lips wrapped around the digit, his expression yearning.
Scotty licked his lips, leaning back in his chair, his hand straying to the zip of his trousers and easing it down. Wouldn't do to be too hasty, would it?
Chekov opened his eyes to aim a sultry look at him before licking once at his finger. "Should I suck my finger, Scotty? Should I imagine you watching me with those beautiful eyes?" He nibbled at it lightly before looking at the camera.
"Or should I move?"
He dropped his finger from his lips, causing Scotty to groan out loud at the loss, and as Scotty watched, Chekov stroked his hands down his chest, pinching a nipple lightly, circling around his navel.
"Scotty," he whispered, "I'm so hard...." One hand stopped toying with the trouser fly, moving downward. The heel of his palm against the tent in his trousers made both the bright blue eyes slip closed as he shuddered and moaned.
Scotty wasn't far behind, mirroring the recording's action, wanting to throw his head back but not wanting to miss a second of this.
"God, I want you," Chekov whispered heatedly. "I want so much. To feel you pin me against a wall so that I can't move, your kisses making my head spin from lack of air..." He backed up, unsteady on his feet, until he hit the edge of the bed, and when he did, he jumped a little, sitting down a bit gracelessly. He bit his lip and muttered something vicious in Russian before looking up at the camera again. "I'll edit that part," he muttered.
Scotty laughed out loud. "Oops."
The window continued uninterrupted, Chekov reaching for the trousers' zipper and dragging it down as slowly as he could.
Scotty could see his hands shaking, wanting to pull it down faster, to get his trousers and underwear off and be done with them, but this was a strip tease, and a damn good one. "I want to feel you undress me," Chekov murmured, undoing the clasp and parting the fabric. "It always feel so good when you do it."
Scotty opened his trousers as well, rubbing his hand over his trapped erection lazily.
"You asked me once, what one of my fantasies was," Chekov murmured. "It is you... seducing me." His eyes shied away from the camera, away from Scotty, but he stood up to hook his thumbs into his trousers, dragging both them and his underwear down, freeing his hard-on. As the cloth dropped to the floor, he shuddered and sighed, one hand cradling himself and stroking once or twice before he opened his eyes to look into the camera again.
"You would undress me, so slowly, touching me and asking me what feels good," he purred, fingers trailing down a thigh, the other hand lightly curved around himself, the thumb flicking against the head. He shuddered, blue eyes slipping shut. "You would purr into my ear, tell me how handsome I look, and grope me when I was too distracted."
Chekov jumped a little as the hand on his thigh had traveled around to his backside and had apparently squeezed. When he opened his eyes again, he was sheepishly smiling. "You told me once that you would stop if I ever stopped enjoying it, but I don't want you to stop."
There was movement as Chekov kicked his trousers and underwear away, and he sat on the bed. It was obvious that he was trying to make it look sexy, but he didn't quite manage, and he sighed explosively, looking annoyed and edible and adorable all in the same breath.
"I don't know how people make sitting on a bed look sexy," he muttered. He laid down across the bed, facing the camera, his left arm propping himself up as his right rested along his side. "I shall have to edit here too." He paused for a moment, and looked up at the ceiling curiously. "I wonder..."
"What is it?" Scotty asked, smiling a bit at watching Pavel Chekov lay on the bed, eying the ceiling, instead of some supermodel who knew how to move. He'd take a lover he knew well over any cover girl any day of the week.
Chekov rolled to lay on his back on the bed, his arms held up above him, his hands flat as though envisioning something on the ceiling. "If I could mount camera here, it would be good angle for watching." He glanced over at the camera and grinned. "I should mount camera here and record us having sex."
Scotty had trouble swallowing. The hand rubbing against him had now slipped inside of his underwear of its own accord and was squeezing the taut flesh.
"If I were to top, and you were on your back," Chekov continued along conversationally before realizing that he was supposed to be making a sex video, "I would get to see your face when you come. I could save it on a disc and play it back anytime you are not here." He smirked, rubbing one hand across his stomach while the other returned to lightly stroking his erection. "Is good idea."
"Then again," Chekov said slowly, "if you were to top, I would get to see the muscles in your back as you fucked me."
Scotty's hand squeezed firmly, trying to hold back from coming from the mental image alone. Chekov wasn't helping.
"Mmm, da," he half-growled. "The next time I get you alone, you will fuck me, yes? Do not take your time. I want to feel it for days afterwards." He sat up suddenly and glared at the camera. "But I do not blush on bridge security feed. That is dirty lie."
Scotty stared at the screen for a second before laughing out loud. He'd checked the security feed himself after one night when they'd been particularly... rigorous. Despite what Chekov said, the first time the navigator had sat down, he'd turned a lovely shade of red and tried to find a comfortable angle to sit. Kirk had even asked if he was all right, and it was hilarious to watch him babble that he was fine, thank you.
Chekov seemed to think the threat was enough, as he laid back down again, his lips pursed. "I wish I could know what you are thinking as you watch this. Are you touching yourself?" He laid his head down, resting it on his folded left arm. "Are you pretending that I am there, touching you?"
"Do you really have to ask, lad?" Scotty asked him quietly.
The young man on the video feed considered the camera for a second before springing up from the bed. "Ah! Have perfect idea! Wait here--" He disappeared offscreen, and after what sounded like actual rummaging through things, Chekov reappeared with a tube and a flesh-colored dildo, which looked about the same size as Scotty himself.
There were things he was learning about Chekov left and right, and Scotty didn't mind one bit.
"Another present," Chekov said apologetically, his cheeks turning red. "I was hoping you would use this on me while I sucked you, but there never seems to be a good time to bring it up in conwersation."
Scotty squeezed his eyes shut, trying not to imagine Chekov's mouth on him, making those delicious moans that he usually made when Scotty was balls-deep inside of him. When he opened his eyes to look at his computer screen, Chekov was smirking.
"Now that I have your attention," he murmured, "I will put this to good use."
Scotty watched as Chekov laid back on the bed, looking up at the ceiling as he uncapped the tube and spread some clear lubricant on his hands, slicking it between his fingers. He glanced at Scotty, smirking a little as he reached between his legs. He shifted a bit, looking a little annoyed as he tried to find a good position, and looked at the camera again, gauging distance.
"Can you see--" Chekov started to ask, and then he rolled his eyes and muttered under his breath. "Why am I asking-- you cannot answer." He kept muttering about editing while Scotty himself grinned at the sight, and finally, he managed to lay half on his side and back.
"This is more work than I thought," he muttered. "Am trying to be sexy, and I have to worry about camera angles and--" He gasped, the fingers of one hand disappearing past his balls to enter him. Chekov had been rather responsive down there, Scotty had been pleased to learn the first time they'd had sex.
"Scotty," Chekov growled, biting his lower lip and whimpering a little. "This... feels so good..."
Scotty couldn't agree more, the way Chekov twisted and moaned as he prepared himself. The next time they were having sex, he was going to make Chekov prepare himself, just to be able to watch this again with sweat and moans and the smell of sex in the air.
He watched the young man buck and writhe, glimpses of fingers inside of him before Chekov deliberately stopped himself, pulling out his fingers and collapsing on the bed.
"What'd you go and do that for?" Scotty demanded. "I was watching that!"
Chekov didn't answer, his chest lifting as he sucked in deep breaths. He picked up the dildo, and glanced at the camera as if suddenly remembering that he had an audience. "Sorry." He gave the tip of the dildo a long, apologetic lick before kissing the crown and smearing lubricant on it. "Is better to have you here. You could whisper in my ear about how much you want to bend me over a console and fuck me until I can't remember my name."
That was certainly an idea. Scotty idly considered taking notes.
Chekov examined the dildo, making sure the lubricant was spread evenly. His breath hitched in a laugh before he explained, "If this were you, you would have taken my hand away by now and kissed me." He turned back to the camera, to Scotty. "I need you to kiss me. Let me taste those lips for hours. I could tie you down, just to kiss your lips as long as I want."
Scotty gave himself a good, long pull, imagining Chekov kissing and nibbling at his lips. Motion on the screen caught his eye, and he saw Chekov position the dildo into place and slide it in, the young man's blue eyes widening as he did so.
"Slowly, now," Scotty murmured, his hand stroking up and down his erection. "Slowly."
Chekov wasn't following orders, inserting the dildo inside of him. When it seemed to be fully inside, he shivered.
"Scotty," he moaned breathlessly. He bit his lower lip and wriggled. "Scotty--"
"I'm here, Pavel," Scotty whispered, his hand moving faster and faster. "I'm here."
"Please," Chekov whimpered, his back arching as he screwed himself with the dildo.
Scotty knew the instant that the dildo hit Chekov's prostate, the way the blue eyes widened, the loud gasp, the stiffening body.
"God!" Chekov moaned, twisting and moving the dildo in and out, hitting that spot again and again. His eyes slammed shut, and he cursed loudly in Russian. Scotty could see the sweat standing out on his brow, how hard Pavel was gritting his teeth against the pleasure.
"Come for me," Chekov whispered. "Please."
One last time, and Chekov threw his head back, shouting once as white splashes landed on his stomach and the bedspread.
That was the last Scotty saw before his orgasm hit him, hard and fast like a bar brawl. He stroked faster, working the flesh until there was nothing left to give, and when he came back to himself, his monitor had been striped with sperm, and Chekov was lazily grinning at him, using his clean hand to lick the fluid from his body.
Scotty shuddered and leaned back hard against his chair.
"Da svidaniya," Chekov purred, rolling onto his front and resting his chin on his forearm. "I love you."
And then the window closed.
Scotty sat staring at his computer monitor, the white stripes standing out clear against the blue background of his desktop.
He concentrated on getting his breath back, and when he did, he closed his eyes and let himself feel the endorphins in his skin, the smell of sex in the air.
When he was able to think coherently, as well as move, he got out of his chair and went to find Chekov.
After all, he did owe the man a kiss against a wall.
DISCLAIMER: Star Trek XI doesn't belong to me – the universe belongs to Gene Roddenberry and so many people that if they were all to sue me, various descendants would be in debt up to their eyeballs. Written for entertainment purposes, no money made, please don't sue, yadda.
FANDOM: Star Trek XI
PAIRING: Scotty/Chekov
WORD COUNT: 3,720
RATING: NC-17
WARNINGS: This. Is. Porn.
SUMMARY: A creative solution to not being able to see each other.
CHALLENGE: Written for the Star Trek Kink Meme, because I'm a sheep.
PROMPT: Click here for details.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: Unbeta'd liek woah.
***
He shouldn't have done it, really.
Scotty knew that he might be needed in Engineering, but Miller and Thompson were good men (yes, Thompson wasn't a man, but she was still reliable). There weren't any emergencies on the horizon, and the severe damage from their last brush with Klingon warbirds was well on its way to being fixed.
It hadn't helped his sex life, though.
The few times that Chekov had made a ship-wide announcement from the bridge had been the only times when he saw Chekov face-to-face over the past few weeks, due to the repairs he'd had to supervise. Working with a new crew was always a pain in the arse because it took time to get used to everyone's rhythms, and for them to fall into a cohesive unit that worked well under pressure and could pull miracles out of their collective arses whenever the Captain said to do so. Still, it was an unfortunate fact of life that whenever someone from Engineering beamed down in an away team, they usually didn't come back, and as a result, the Enterprise kept having to get more engineers to fill the gaps, and the process would start again.
Scotty nodded to a few crewmen as he headed out of Engineering, reaching inside his pocket again for the data storage unit that one of the bridge crew had passed to him, saying it was from Chekov about some equations they'd been working on together before the Klingons started giving everyone headaches.
Seeing as how Scotty knew for a fact that they hadn't had anything to argue over except for whether or not Engineering was off-limits for sex (Chekov was for it, which rather surprised Scotty, but Scotty didn't want to risk getting stuck naked in a Jefferies tube and having to get some poor ensign to grease them out. Those damn things were narrow.), Scotty had no idea what he was holding in his hand, except that it was a smaller type of unit, black with a few stylistic designs and a few scuff marks that said louder than anything else that this was Chekov's, and not one from the ship's supplies.
Scotty made it to his quarters, sitting down at his personal computer and plugging in the storage unit. After a few moments, a new window popped up, revealing Chekov in a darkened room, his face lit by the glow of blue lights.
"Mister Scott," Chekov began, his voice as neutral as any ship-wide broadcast. "I have been going over your calculations concerning the transportation of high-welocity matter in a short time frame. Included in this unit are my own calculations, corrections, and suggestions about your theory. I look forward to a response when you are next awailable." The Chekov on the screen paused for a moment, and then winked solemnly before the screen closed.
Scotty blinked. "But we already went through those," he muttered to himself. Frowning, he opened up the directory to look at the contents of the storage unit, and found only one other file. Another recording, instead of text, labeled simply, 'YLT'.
Scotty tried to open it, only to be confronted with a prompt demanding a password in glowing red letters. Nonplussed, he narrowed his eyes and tried the file name. Which... didn't work. Sitting back in his chair, he found himself smiling. There was something on this thing not meant for public consumption.
He tried 'high-velocity matter', a few variations of that phrase, variations on 'calculations, corrections, and suggestions', a few of their own in-jokes, and after five minutes of getting the same error message, Scotty glared at his computer.
"If you were going to make a secret message for me," he muttered to an absent Chekov, "you could've made the password something easier."
In a fit of peevishness, he tapped his commlink. "Scotty to Ensign Chekov."
"Ensign Chekov, here, sir," Chekov chirped. "How can I help you?"
"Well, you can tell me what this bloody password's supposed to be, for starters," Scotty muttered. "I've not cracked it, and I'm wondering if the security's all that necessary."
There was a telling silence, and Chekov coughed a little. "Some of those equations come from sources that would rather not be talked about, sir."
Scotty snorted. If Chekov had known people like that, he could've gotten himself into a lot more trouble in the Academy than he actually had. "All right, then. A hint about the password, if you please?"
"How did you feel when you were on Delta Vega?"
"Wait, come again?" Scotty asked, frowning in confusion.
Chekov repeated the question, and added, "It is one word, less than seven letters. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm needed on the bridge."
The commlink clicked off, leaving Scotty to stare at his computer.
He tried 'hungry'. The computer bleeped a negative.
'Starving' was two letters too long, and resulted in another bleep, and pretty soon, Scotty was beginning to think his computer was cursing at him.
It was only on a whim that he tried 'lonely', and the computer chirped an affirmative before opening another window.
"Well," Scotty said, smiling, "what do you know?"
This window was practically a copy of the one before -- Chekov sitting in a dark room, lit only by the blue lights on his cheeks.
"Hello, Scotty," Chekov murmured, his voice far less formal and far more what Scotty was used to hearing in the mornings after they'd spent the night together. "I... I am not sure what to say."
The recorded Chekov cleared his throat. "Ship-wide broadcasts are one thing, but this...?" He shook his head, smiling sheepishly. "I guess I will muddle through this somehow, and hope you respect me when we see each other again."
He lifted his gaze, staring at the camera head-on. "I... miss you. Yes, I know we are on same ship, only a few decks away, but not seeing you, not hearing your voice... it is difficult."
"Oh, Pavel," Scotty murmured, resting his chin in one hand as he kept watching.
"I was hoping to make this a present, something you could look at when you were lonely," Chekov explained with a shrug, "but your birthday is already passed, so it is late. But... maybe you will make one for me?"
Scotty frowned. "What do you mean by that?"
Chekov smiled a little, ducking his head for a moment before looking up at Scotty through his eyelashes. "You will see," he purred, as if he were the one actually answering Scotty's question instead of being a recording. "Enjoy."
The window went black, and it was the same camera, though a different view. The room was dimly-lit, just the right dimness Scotty liked when they were taking their time with things. Chekov's bed was front and center, far enough to let Scotty see the whole thing, but close enough that he wouldn't have to squint.
Chekov stepped into frame with his back to the camera, wearing his regular uniform. Looking over his shoulder, he smiled.
"Since I cannot be with you in person, I was thinking that maybe I could keep you company this way," he said by way of explanation. "But first, I need to get ready, yes?"
He turned away from the camera, rolling his shoulders, and then his head and neck, taking his time in working out the kinks as though he had all the time in the world. He turned to face the camera, hands grabbing the gold shirt and pulling it slowly upwards, a flash of pale skin bared when the black undershirt rode up. When it was off, Chekov carelessly dropped it on the floor, looking over his shoulder at Scotty to dare him to pick it up.
Scotty's mouth went dry. He'd had his suspicions when he saw the bed first thing, but now he was positive.
Chekov had made him a sex tape.
"Is wery hot in here," Chekov said, his words conversational, but the tone feeling like a caress on Scotty's skin. "How are you feeling?"
Scotty cleared his throat, but didn't reply. His eyes were starting to itch from the need to blink. The trouble was, if he blinked, he might miss Pavel Chekov, Sex God.
Chekov turned around, leaning over to get closer to the screen. "Maybe you should get comfortable," he purred. "This may take a while."
Scotty didn't need to be told twice. He shifted in his chair, settling himself back to enjoy the show.
Chekov tilted his head just a little, looking shy and coy and so devious as he gave Scotty a wicked smile. "There are things I've wanted to say to you, Scotty."
"Things?" Scotty asked, finding himself a bit curious. Chekov held his own during a debate and in regular conversation, sure, but considering what he was doing, Scotty found himself even more intrigued. Chekov didn't say much in bed except for apologizing whenever he knocked something over, or whenever he liked something Scotty was doing.
Long fingers reached up to the undershirt's zipper, the black fabric parting as the teeth separated. "The next time you see me, I want you to pin me against a wall."
Scotty's eyebrows rose. "Oh?"
The pale hand reached the bottom of the shirt, and the fabric slid off, revealing a slender chest with a light sprinkling of blond-brown hair. When the arms were free, the hands returned to Chekov's chest, fingertips lightly touching. "I want to know every time that you've seen this. That you've watched me touch myself, wishing it was you."
Scotty watched the fingers trace lines and curves, circling around nipples until they hardened, and then trailing down to a smooth stomach. The fingers made their way to the waistband of the Starfleet-regulation trousers, toying with the clasp idly, as if they had no idea how much they were driving Scotty crazy.
"I love your hands," Chekov sighed, and Scotty's eyes looked back at his face, watching the Russian's eyes slip closed, his lips parted in a soft sigh.
"Strong..." One hand reached over to grasp a hip. "Nimble..." Fingers flicked across the skin of his stomach, teasing and light. "Responsive..."
He let go of his hip, his hand moving slowly until his index finger reached his lips. He leaned in, a flicker of teeth nibbling on the tip before his lips wrapped around the digit, his expression yearning.
Scotty licked his lips, leaning back in his chair, his hand straying to the zip of his trousers and easing it down. Wouldn't do to be too hasty, would it?
Chekov opened his eyes to aim a sultry look at him before licking once at his finger. "Should I suck my finger, Scotty? Should I imagine you watching me with those beautiful eyes?" He nibbled at it lightly before looking at the camera.
"Or should I move?"
He dropped his finger from his lips, causing Scotty to groan out loud at the loss, and as Scotty watched, Chekov stroked his hands down his chest, pinching a nipple lightly, circling around his navel.
"Scotty," he whispered, "I'm so hard...." One hand stopped toying with the trouser fly, moving downward. The heel of his palm against the tent in his trousers made both the bright blue eyes slip closed as he shuddered and moaned.
Scotty wasn't far behind, mirroring the recording's action, wanting to throw his head back but not wanting to miss a second of this.
"God, I want you," Chekov whispered heatedly. "I want so much. To feel you pin me against a wall so that I can't move, your kisses making my head spin from lack of air..." He backed up, unsteady on his feet, until he hit the edge of the bed, and when he did, he jumped a little, sitting down a bit gracelessly. He bit his lip and muttered something vicious in Russian before looking up at the camera again. "I'll edit that part," he muttered.
Scotty laughed out loud. "Oops."
The window continued uninterrupted, Chekov reaching for the trousers' zipper and dragging it down as slowly as he could.
Scotty could see his hands shaking, wanting to pull it down faster, to get his trousers and underwear off and be done with them, but this was a strip tease, and a damn good one. "I want to feel you undress me," Chekov murmured, undoing the clasp and parting the fabric. "It always feel so good when you do it."
Scotty opened his trousers as well, rubbing his hand over his trapped erection lazily.
"You asked me once, what one of my fantasies was," Chekov murmured. "It is you... seducing me." His eyes shied away from the camera, away from Scotty, but he stood up to hook his thumbs into his trousers, dragging both them and his underwear down, freeing his hard-on. As the cloth dropped to the floor, he shuddered and sighed, one hand cradling himself and stroking once or twice before he opened his eyes to look into the camera again.
"You would undress me, so slowly, touching me and asking me what feels good," he purred, fingers trailing down a thigh, the other hand lightly curved around himself, the thumb flicking against the head. He shuddered, blue eyes slipping shut. "You would purr into my ear, tell me how handsome I look, and grope me when I was too distracted."
Chekov jumped a little as the hand on his thigh had traveled around to his backside and had apparently squeezed. When he opened his eyes again, he was sheepishly smiling. "You told me once that you would stop if I ever stopped enjoying it, but I don't want you to stop."
There was movement as Chekov kicked his trousers and underwear away, and he sat on the bed. It was obvious that he was trying to make it look sexy, but he didn't quite manage, and he sighed explosively, looking annoyed and edible and adorable all in the same breath.
"I don't know how people make sitting on a bed look sexy," he muttered. He laid down across the bed, facing the camera, his left arm propping himself up as his right rested along his side. "I shall have to edit here too." He paused for a moment, and looked up at the ceiling curiously. "I wonder..."
"What is it?" Scotty asked, smiling a bit at watching Pavel Chekov lay on the bed, eying the ceiling, instead of some supermodel who knew how to move. He'd take a lover he knew well over any cover girl any day of the week.
Chekov rolled to lay on his back on the bed, his arms held up above him, his hands flat as though envisioning something on the ceiling. "If I could mount camera here, it would be good angle for watching." He glanced over at the camera and grinned. "I should mount camera here and record us having sex."
Scotty had trouble swallowing. The hand rubbing against him had now slipped inside of his underwear of its own accord and was squeezing the taut flesh.
"If I were to top, and you were on your back," Chekov continued along conversationally before realizing that he was supposed to be making a sex video, "I would get to see your face when you come. I could save it on a disc and play it back anytime you are not here." He smirked, rubbing one hand across his stomach while the other returned to lightly stroking his erection. "Is good idea."
"Then again," Chekov said slowly, "if you were to top, I would get to see the muscles in your back as you fucked me."
Scotty's hand squeezed firmly, trying to hold back from coming from the mental image alone. Chekov wasn't helping.
"Mmm, da," he half-growled. "The next time I get you alone, you will fuck me, yes? Do not take your time. I want to feel it for days afterwards." He sat up suddenly and glared at the camera. "But I do not blush on bridge security feed. That is dirty lie."
Scotty stared at the screen for a second before laughing out loud. He'd checked the security feed himself after one night when they'd been particularly... rigorous. Despite what Chekov said, the first time the navigator had sat down, he'd turned a lovely shade of red and tried to find a comfortable angle to sit. Kirk had even asked if he was all right, and it was hilarious to watch him babble that he was fine, thank you.
Chekov seemed to think the threat was enough, as he laid back down again, his lips pursed. "I wish I could know what you are thinking as you watch this. Are you touching yourself?" He laid his head down, resting it on his folded left arm. "Are you pretending that I am there, touching you?"
"Do you really have to ask, lad?" Scotty asked him quietly.
The young man on the video feed considered the camera for a second before springing up from the bed. "Ah! Have perfect idea! Wait here--" He disappeared offscreen, and after what sounded like actual rummaging through things, Chekov reappeared with a tube and a flesh-colored dildo, which looked about the same size as Scotty himself.
There were things he was learning about Chekov left and right, and Scotty didn't mind one bit.
"Another present," Chekov said apologetically, his cheeks turning red. "I was hoping you would use this on me while I sucked you, but there never seems to be a good time to bring it up in conwersation."
Scotty squeezed his eyes shut, trying not to imagine Chekov's mouth on him, making those delicious moans that he usually made when Scotty was balls-deep inside of him. When he opened his eyes to look at his computer screen, Chekov was smirking.
"Now that I have your attention," he murmured, "I will put this to good use."
Scotty watched as Chekov laid back on the bed, looking up at the ceiling as he uncapped the tube and spread some clear lubricant on his hands, slicking it between his fingers. He glanced at Scotty, smirking a little as he reached between his legs. He shifted a bit, looking a little annoyed as he tried to find a good position, and looked at the camera again, gauging distance.
"Can you see--" Chekov started to ask, and then he rolled his eyes and muttered under his breath. "Why am I asking-- you cannot answer." He kept muttering about editing while Scotty himself grinned at the sight, and finally, he managed to lay half on his side and back.
"This is more work than I thought," he muttered. "Am trying to be sexy, and I have to worry about camera angles and--" He gasped, the fingers of one hand disappearing past his balls to enter him. Chekov had been rather responsive down there, Scotty had been pleased to learn the first time they'd had sex.
"Scotty," Chekov growled, biting his lower lip and whimpering a little. "This... feels so good..."
Scotty couldn't agree more, the way Chekov twisted and moaned as he prepared himself. The next time they were having sex, he was going to make Chekov prepare himself, just to be able to watch this again with sweat and moans and the smell of sex in the air.
He watched the young man buck and writhe, glimpses of fingers inside of him before Chekov deliberately stopped himself, pulling out his fingers and collapsing on the bed.
"What'd you go and do that for?" Scotty demanded. "I was watching that!"
Chekov didn't answer, his chest lifting as he sucked in deep breaths. He picked up the dildo, and glanced at the camera as if suddenly remembering that he had an audience. "Sorry." He gave the tip of the dildo a long, apologetic lick before kissing the crown and smearing lubricant on it. "Is better to have you here. You could whisper in my ear about how much you want to bend me over a console and fuck me until I can't remember my name."
That was certainly an idea. Scotty idly considered taking notes.
Chekov examined the dildo, making sure the lubricant was spread evenly. His breath hitched in a laugh before he explained, "If this were you, you would have taken my hand away by now and kissed me." He turned back to the camera, to Scotty. "I need you to kiss me. Let me taste those lips for hours. I could tie you down, just to kiss your lips as long as I want."
Scotty gave himself a good, long pull, imagining Chekov kissing and nibbling at his lips. Motion on the screen caught his eye, and he saw Chekov position the dildo into place and slide it in, the young man's blue eyes widening as he did so.
"Slowly, now," Scotty murmured, his hand stroking up and down his erection. "Slowly."
Chekov wasn't following orders, inserting the dildo inside of him. When it seemed to be fully inside, he shivered.
"Scotty," he moaned breathlessly. He bit his lower lip and wriggled. "Scotty--"
"I'm here, Pavel," Scotty whispered, his hand moving faster and faster. "I'm here."
"Please," Chekov whimpered, his back arching as he screwed himself with the dildo.
Scotty knew the instant that the dildo hit Chekov's prostate, the way the blue eyes widened, the loud gasp, the stiffening body.
"God!" Chekov moaned, twisting and moving the dildo in and out, hitting that spot again and again. His eyes slammed shut, and he cursed loudly in Russian. Scotty could see the sweat standing out on his brow, how hard Pavel was gritting his teeth against the pleasure.
"Come for me," Chekov whispered. "Please."
One last time, and Chekov threw his head back, shouting once as white splashes landed on his stomach and the bedspread.
That was the last Scotty saw before his orgasm hit him, hard and fast like a bar brawl. He stroked faster, working the flesh until there was nothing left to give, and when he came back to himself, his monitor had been striped with sperm, and Chekov was lazily grinning at him, using his clean hand to lick the fluid from his body.
Scotty shuddered and leaned back hard against his chair.
"Da svidaniya," Chekov purred, rolling onto his front and resting his chin on his forearm. "I love you."
And then the window closed.
Scotty sat staring at his computer monitor, the white stripes standing out clear against the blue background of his desktop.
He concentrated on getting his breath back, and when he did, he closed his eyes and let himself feel the endorphins in his skin, the smell of sex in the air.
When he was able to think coherently, as well as move, he got out of his chair and went to find Chekov.
After all, he did owe the man a kiss against a wall.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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Date: 2009-06-13 10:12 pm (UTC)"Are you pretending that I am there, touching you?"
"Do you really have to ask, lad?" Scotty asked him quietly.
This was my favorite part. But all of it was wonderful!!
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Date: 2009-06-13 10:25 pm (UTC)I kind of meant for it to be more porny than it turned out to be, but I had read an article about sex writing earlier in the day, and it talked about how sex talk isn't just "ooh, harder, do me" or whatever, but can have other things in it, like, "Oh, shit, is the stove still runni-- ah!" or something.
Yay! A happy reader. <3
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Date: 2009-06-13 11:07 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-06-14 01:14 am (UTC)I watch porn for the lolz. :D
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Date: 2009-06-14 02:51 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-06-14 09:08 pm (UTC)As for about when they hook up, the funny thing about these fics is that they're not actually connected in one universe. They're just prompts that kickstarted something in my brain, so I tend to think of them as being different mini-universes? Like, how Author A will write the characters one way, and that's her sandbox, whereas Author B would write the characters a different way, and that's his? Both of them are still "correct" in their interpretations, especially if the characters resemble their canon counterparts, but they're still separate entities in a sense. I dunno.
Either way, there's a few prompts at the kink meme that look promising in terms of first-time fics, so I'll take a gander at those and see what comes out. :D
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Date: 2009-06-14 10:10 pm (UTC)*laughs* when i was little my brother and i used to run out of the room and then back in and then out again until such scenes were over. Now i just make Inappropriate jokes and wait for it to be over. ^_^ Although if its really bad i tend to cover my face with a pillow.
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Date: 2009-06-14 02:03 pm (UTC)Fantastic story and it makes me want my own Chekov video. *grin*
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Date: 2009-06-14 09:13 pm (UTC)Or something. And while Chekov is made of awesome and pretty, I can see him wanting to edit bits of the sex tape. :D
Scotty being Scotty, of course, would find that even sexier than some woman who's making all the right moves, or whatever. *nod*
Sex is awesome, but the characters being themselves while having sex is much, much better.
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Date: 2009-06-15 04:57 pm (UTC)Others have already mentioned how real this feels and I must agree. As someone who reads fic with sexxytiems more for the emotional intimacy/possible humour/possible exploration of a character's personality in a situation we don't necessary get to see them in canon than for the hotness factor (though I won't deny that this fic was that, too), I love how IC both Scotty and Chekov seem in this. I adore all the moments in the tape that Chekov himself to deems "awkward" and Scotty's reactions ("I was watching that!") were just priceless.
To me it also feels that, despite that these characters aren't physically together on-scene in your fic and, you've managed to convey a feeling of connection between them by means of the tape, which I don't believe everyone could just pull off like that.
If I've understood correctly, you don't have anything against people friending your fic-journal, right? I've really taken an interest to your writing and would like to see what you come up with next.
Summary: I loved this, thanks for sharing.
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Date: 2009-06-15 05:13 pm (UTC)I certainly have no objections to people friending the fic journal -- there's not anything that's going to be locked down, so whatcha see is whatcha get. :D
As for the fic itself, I'm glad that the fics you've read were enjoyable, and I'm flattered that you want to stick around to see what pops up next. *^^*
As for this fic specifically, I'm glad that the characters still rang true for you, and that they were themselves while having sex. I've come across too many fics where recognizable characters turn into porn stars or whatever because omghawt, whereas I want to see the guys as themselves. Earlier in the day before I slung this down, I'd read some kind of top ten list of what to do when writing a sex scene, and the bit about sex being messy and awkward and fun inspired me to have Chekov mess up a few times, have it be a conversation between the two, and not just, "Here's a sex tape whenever you need to beat off!" More, this fic seems like a, "I really do miss you, and yes, this is a sex tape, but I wanted to share this with you." sort of thing, which I like.
... So, tl;dr, thank you for commenting, I really liked writing this fic, and I'm glad you enjoyed.
Also? I really should write a sequel to this, with Scotty doing one for Chekov. :D
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Date: 2009-06-15 05:55 pm (UTC)Omg that was a lot of sloppy sentence structures in one comment. I totally should have re-read it one more time before hitting post, even though you seemed to catch my drift anyway.
You shall be friended then. Just wanted to make sure.
I've come across too many fics where recognizable characters turn into porn stars or whatever because omghawt, whereas I want to see the guys as themselves.
My thoughts exactly, particularly about seeing the characters as themselves. I mean, if I wanted to see characterisation sacrificed in favour of the porn I could as well, perhaps, be reading or watching original porn? I've always cared more about how these specific two/three/whathaveyou people would act like in intimate situations and definitely less about the hawwwt.
I really should write a sequel to this, with Scotty doing one for Chekov. :D
And again you took the words right out of my mouth ;).
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Date: 2009-06-15 06:04 pm (UTC)It'll probably be a bit harder for Scotty to do one, seeing as how, sure, he's kept himself fit, and engineering in general tends to keep one on their toes (yay running around screaming in engineering while the ship's about to be sucked into a black hole), but at the same time, Chekov's the pretty one (or so Scotty thinks).
I wonder if Chekov would see the tape, and go after Scotty, because to him, Scotty's damn sexy, or else they wouldn't have been in this relationship in the first place. *nod*
It's just a matter of convincing Scotty of that, perhaps?
(Yeah, I only have HF icons to use for Simon Pegg characters, so yay, HF!)
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Date: 2009-06-15 06:21 pm (UTC)And as for a companion piece, it sounds like you're writing one already :D. I just
thought that Scotty might feel a bit more self-conscious about making a tape of his own too.
Seconding the Hot Fuzz yay (has now ran out of HF icons, excluding the one of a murderous swan that's actually from the cover of a Wodehouse novel).
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Date: 2009-06-15 06:28 pm (UTC)Chekov masturbates (fingering or dildo or both), Scotty watches but doesn't touch. Filthy talking all the way through. Scotty comes on Chekov."
And I ended up imagining a sex tape instead of face-to-face, but at least the OP liked it. :D
So, yeah. Scotty requires more thought. Of course, now I have a mental image of him shirtless and working on hands-on engineering stuff, being sexy and sweaty, but I dunno if that actually works. Especially since Scotty would be working at the time. Hrm.
We could take this to an IM if you want, but I'm only going to be able to get on it in 7.5 hours, instead of right this second (damn homework), and I'm not sure what time zone you're in.
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Date: 2009-06-15 06:45 pm (UTC)Drat. I'm in Finland, it's 9.32 pm here. I would otherwise drag myself out of bed at 5 am but I'm supposed to be working all day tomorrow, and then going to pay a visit to my grandmother (who just called to ask why I never visit, when the last time I have been there was Saturday). But feel free to drop me a line anytime ;).
Well, Scotty could begin with the shirtless sweaty stuff and the tape could cut to somewhere more private but yeah, I don't know if it would work. I do'nt actually know anything about constructing fic, not having written any since I was thirteen cause of the whole not-my-native-language-I´m-gonna-suck-factor freaks me out.
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Date: 2009-06-15 06:46 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-06-15 06:50 pm (UTC)(and yes, I saw your correction. :D)
Yeah, I saw your location and was like, "Oh, dear..."
And heck, you're doing a lot better with English than some native speakers I know. There's some people that I can barely understand when I'm at work. :(
I shall have to think about Scotty's tape some more before I try something out. *firm nod*
Try not to kill people at work? :D?
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Date: 2009-06-15 07:11 pm (UTC)"Oh, dear" pretty much sums up the reality of being a Finn ;), though alcoholism and depression ceased to be compulsory to all citizens once we arrived at the 21. century. And it's nice to hear that I'm at least usually comprehensible, I haven't had much first-hand exposure to situations where I could have actively used English with a native speaker, I've been to Hastings for three days in 1999 when I didn't yet speak the language myself and I've once had a teacher who was from Michigan, and that's that. I've just changed my major from Finnish to English though (long story), which hopefully is going to improve the situation somewhat.
But good luck with the writing! I'm if possible even more interested than before.
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Date: 2009-06-15 07:24 pm (UTC)And yay for no more alcoholism and depression! \o/
*pets Scotty and Chekov*
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Date: 2009-06-15 07:38 pm (UTC)A Finnish author once suggested that we have the Russians to blame for teaching us to drink until we drop (the Swedes aren't for that kind of thing, the Norwegians are to far away, the Estonians have probably learned it from the Russians themselves), but he probably just tried to evade responsibility ;). Depression is probably something we came up with to pass the time during the winters, and is futile now that we have electric lamps, the internet and colour tv.
Now I've got to be off to the land of nod. *gives Scotty and Chekov a last pat and leaves*
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Date: 2009-06-25 09:08 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-06-25 11:43 pm (UTC)*pets Chekov*
Glad you enjoyed. :D
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Date: 2009-06-28 08:18 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-06-28 08:22 pm (UTC)I'm still very proud of this one -- the way it looked in my head is the way it came out, and it came together well. *nodnod*
If you're interested in the other Scotty/Chekov stories I've written, I have a tag here at my fic journal:
http://darktrent182.livejournal.com/tag/scotty/chekov
There's a vampires-universe I'm working on as well that has Scotty/Chekov in it. *^^*
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Date: 2009-08-02 11:20 pm (UTC)Lastly, what made this fic so incredibly enjoyable is that it wasn't one dimensionally smutty. I love that there was humor and snark and sexiness. It made it feel more like Chekov was really in the room with Scotty. I can only imagine how he must be feeling on the bridge knowing that Scotty is finally getting around to watching the tape. LOL.
Anyway, I really really wish there was more of this!
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Date: 2009-08-03 12:05 am (UTC)And hey! I'm glad that the way I wrote Chekov's voice worked for you. Yeah, I know what you mean about some authors butchering how he talks and throwing in more Russian words than he actually used in the movie. Personally, I believe that each character should have their own distinct voice, and when you're reading a fic, you should be able to tell the difference. Usually fics have "Blah blah," [character] said, but the best kinds are the dialog-only fics where you know who's who.
I'm not really a dialog-only fan, but if you can get to the point where the character's voices are distinguishable, then I'd say it's good. :D
And yay for humor and snark and sexiness. I had actually read a sex tips article before writing this (or maybe it was during), but it was basically, "Sex isn't just purple-prose and shattering orgasms. It's funny, messy, wonderful." So, yeah.
More of this kind of fic, or more of this pairing, or what?
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Date: 2009-08-03 02:52 am (UTC)I love the quote you stated, "Sex isn't just purple-prose and shattering orgasms". Nothing truer can be said. Some of the best lemon fics I've ever read have a healthy amount of action, drama, humor, and sex. Nothing makes a better story than the feeling that the characters are having a good time too.
I'd basically just love to see more of this pairing from you. Even though this isn't exactly a rare pairing, it's not the most common, and it's even more difficult to find an author who writes more than one fic of said pairing. It's nice to know where I can turn for this pairing.
Anyway, to kill my long review and get to the point, I'd love to keep reading anything you write. Maybe an AU where Chekov and Scotty meet at different points in the Reboot universe, like as a student and instructor, or maybe as co-workers of some science project, much to the ire of Scotty to work with someone so young. Or hey, maybe one where Chekov gets kidnapped by some Overlord who puts him in his collection of exotic pretty boys. Because who's more exotic than a genius level Russian teen? Haha. All the best to you. Cheers!
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Date: 2009-08-03 03:02 am (UTC)As for the pairing itself, a friend of mine introduced me to the pairing after she saw the movie and wrote a fic, so I totally blame her for the conversion. Sadly, the pairing isn't as popular as Kirk/Spock, but it's getting a little bit of attention.
If you're also looking for other Scotty/Chekov fics, there's some that've been posted at the
There's also a comm that
I have a few fics in the works for different prompts from
Thank you again for the compliments, and I hope the links are helpful in the search for the elusive Scotty/Chekov fic. :D
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Date: 2010-01-06 04:35 am (UTC)I was a little concerned... after all, I had never seen a sex tape fic before. But congradulations for it being the first of its kind (as far as I kno).
This was pretty damn sexy...
Follow up, yes?
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Date: 2010-01-06 05:32 am (UTC)I dunno about a follow up -- the trouble with Scotty is that he's not very cooperative when it comes to him making a sex tape for Chekhov, alas. But if I ever come up with a fic that works, I'll be sure to post it on this LJ.
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Date: 2010-01-06 08:13 pm (UTC)