FIC: Untitled [Star Trek XI]

[darktrent182]

TITLE: Another untitled fic
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: 2,252
RATING: PG-13 for implied sexual situations
SUMMARY: Scotty's been working hard. Chekov finally gets him to relax.
CHALLENGE: Written for the st_xi_kink, because I'm a sheep.
PROMPT: Click here for details.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: Partially beta'd by the awesome koyaannisqatsi. The rest of it's my fault.

***

"Kirk to Engineering," Kirk said, staring at the splendor that was Jerandis III through the forward monitor. "How're things holding up?"

There was a pause, a bit longer than expected, and then, "They're still holding steady, Captain. We should be able to hold orbit around the planet for a bit."

Kirk frowned. "Scotty, you doing okay?"

"Aye, Captain," came Scotty's voice again. "Just a few things decided to go pear-shaped on me at the last minute. It's nothing to worry about."

Kirk's frown deepened, and he glanced at Chekov, who was sitting at his console and not turning around to look at him.

He'd known for a while that Scotty and Chekov had been discreetly seeing each other, but since it wasn't impacting their work, it was easy to look the other way. But just looking at the tension in Chekov's shoulders and back, Kirk couldn't just ignore this.

"All right, Scotty, carry on," he said finally. He switched off the commlink, and glanced at Chekov. "Sulu, ETA to transporter range to Jerandis?"

"Two minutes, sir," Sulu said, glancing at Chekov.

"Excellent," Kirk said, leaning back in his chair. "Just a few more things to take care of, and we're ready for shore leave. Any plans, guys?"

"If you'll pardon me, Captain," Spock said, "asking such a question of the crew can be viewed as an invasion of privacy."

Kirk rolled his eyes. "I didn't order them to tell me. I mean, hell, Scotty's probably going to stay on board and work himself to the bone while we're here on the pleasure planet of the system."

He noticed Chekov's shoulders tighten up again, and he smiled to himself. "Chekov, something wrong with your back? Maybe you should report to Sickbay, get that checked out. Wouldn't want to have back spasms while you're enjoying the delights of Jerandis III."

Chekov almost glanced over his shoulder, but at the last second grimaced and rubbed at one shoulder. "My shoulder, it has been bothering me. I'm sorry, Captain."

Kirk shook his head. "Head for Sickbay. Miller, relieve the ensign."

As Chekov got up from his seat, the two exchanged a look that was an understanding wink on Kirk's part and a grateful glance on Chekov's. And then the ensign was gone.

Kirk pursed his lips to fight down a smile. Being the captain had its perks, and if one of them was playing Cupid for his crew, it wasn't such a bad thing, was it?

***

As Chekov headed down to Engineering, he told himself that it was a terrible thing that the captain knew about them. He wasn't sure how the captain knew, but it should be a bad thing that he did.

Still, if it meant being able to see Scotty sooner, he found that he didn't mind as much.

He turned a corner, and there was Scotty, leaning against one wall, his arms folded and his forehead resting on them as his shoulders rose and fell in slow breaths.

Ordinarily, whenever Chekov wandered into Engineering after his shift while Scotty continued working, he'd find Scotty in uniform, laying underneath of a console as he tinkered inside, sitting in front of a control station and frowning in the fluorescent light, or heading for another station that needed attention.

This time, however, Scotty was shirtless, his skin shining with sweat and patches of grease here and there. Dark stubble stood out on his face where it had grown over the past three days, and when he extended an arm out to Chekov, the fingernails were encrusted with dirt and his forehead was streaked with oil.

If it weren't for the look of total exhaustion in Scotty's whole body, Chekov would've been tempted to reopen the argument for fooling around in Engineering.

"Give it here," Scotty managed, wiggling his fingers in a beckoning motion.

"Give what here?" Chekov asked, confused.

Blue-grey eyes popped open, and he blinked at Chekov. "You're not Kicklighter."

Chekov shook his head. "What is she supposed to give you?"

"A towel." Scotty groaned. "Haven't bathed in three days and I'm covered in sweat." He paused for a moment and added, "You might not want to stand too close to me, lad."

Chekov snorted, moving into Scotty's personal space with the ease of familiarity. "Where is your shirt?"

"Currently plugging up a leak in a water turbine," Scotty grunted. "If I were to say that you might not want to kiss me unless you're willing to get beard burn, would that stop you at all?"

Chekov shook his head.

"Oh, good," Scotty leaned down and brushed his lips lightly against Chekov's. When the younger man tried to deepen the kiss, Scotty pulled back. "I haven't--"

"Brushed your teeth," Chekov cut in, a bit impatiently, reaching for one of Scotty's hands and squeezing it gently. "I can guess. Come."

Scotty shook his head. "Can't leave. There's still some wiring to fix 'round here."

"It will still be there tomorrow," Chekov said firmly. "You have been keeping ship together for three days. You need rest." Scotty opened his mouth to object, but Chekov reached up and placed a finger on his lips. "No objecting. There are ensigns here working, yes? They can make sure ship does not fall apart while you are on the planet."

Scotty shook his head, and suddenly started to sway drunkenly.

"You prove my point for me," Chekov grunted, moving to stand shoulder to shoulder with the man and wrap one of Scotty's arms around his shoulders while he wrapped one arm around Scotty's waist. "We're going to transporter."

"You're a hard man, lad," Scotty whined, but started picking up his feet and half-dragging himself out of Engineering. "Why not my quarters?"

"Because you only have shower, not bathtub," Chekov explained sensibly.

"A tub?" Scotty asked, surprised.

Chekov nodded. "All the finest accomodations on Jerandis. And I have my quarters there already assigned. The faster we get to the transporter, the faster we can get to the tub."

Scotty snorted. "You don't have to tell me twice."

It took some time to get to the transporter room, and the one tech still there was rather surprised at Scotty's appearance. Chekov explained the situation, as well as the location of the quarters he'd been assigned while on Jerandis, and soon, they were transported to a spacious living room with large windows that let in natural light.

Scotty groaned. "If you don't find the bathroom quick, I'm landing on that couch over there." He nodded over at a couch that looked like it was a cross between leather and suede.

"Not to worry," Chekov replied. "Come with me. I think the bathroom is this way."

A few doors later, they found a spacious bathroom, complete with an old-fashioned tub set into the floor, a sink, and shelves filled with fluffy, white towels.

Scotty looked around, a bit bemused by the sight. "Jerandans sure know how to make a man feel welcome, don't they?"

"Yes," Chekov said distractedly, turning Scotty in his arms and undoing the fly of his trousers.

Scotty snorted. "You don't know how much I'd love to right now, but I'm dead tired."

Chekov rolled his eyes and slid his fingers under the waistband of both Scotty's trousers and underwear. "I'm undressing you so that we can bathe. Sex can wait." The clothes dropped to the floor in a dark puddle before realizing that Scotty's shoes were still on.

"Sex can wait?" Scotty asked, raising an eyebrow at Chekov. "You are eighteen, aren't you?"

"Like you said, you are exhausted," Chekov pointed out, carefully maneuvering Scotty and easing him down to sit on the edge of the tub. Kneeling down, he pried off one shoe and set it down before tackling the sock. "I like you participating, not a dead fish."

Scotty snorted. "Aren't you worried I'd drown in the tub?"

"We are bathing together," Chekov corrected him, prying off the second shoe and sock, and setting them together close to the door. "Will be easier to wash you if I'm with you." With that, he stood and started skinning out of his clothes, dropping them on the floor carelessly until he was naked.

Scotty looked him up and down appreciatively. "You're enough to tempt a saint, you know that?"

Chekov smirked. "You might not say that when I start the massage."

"Massage?" Scotty's eyebrows rose.

Chekov nodded, turning the taps on to start the water running. He tested the temperature with his hand, twisting taps until it was just a hair too hot. "I am not a professional, but it does not seem hard. Here, I show you."

He gently turned Scotty around until Scotty's feet were inside the tub, the water level slowly creeping over them. Resting his hands on Scotty's shoulders, he stroked a few times before starting a slow, firm squeezing with his fingers.

The effect was almost immediate. Scotty moaned out loud, his head falling forward until he looked like he was ready to fall into the tub. "You have exactly a year to stop that," Scotty groaned, his accent thickening.

Chekov chuckled, dropping a kiss to the nape of Scotty's neck. "Only a year?"

Scotty groaned again when Chekov found a knot of tension and started carefully working at it.

The tub filled as Chekov kept working, and when the water cut off automatically, Chekov helped Scotty ease into the water before climbing in himself, the hot water almost a shock when it touched his skin. From there, it was a simple matter of applying soap and a washcloth to the grease stains and the dirt while Scotty was content to half-float with his eyes closed.

"Can you shave yourself, or should I do it for you?" Chekov asked finally, running his fingers over Scotty's stubble. It was unusual to see him not clean-shaven, but he couldn't say that he minded the look all that much.

One blue-grey eye popped open. "I don't need to shave, do I? I'd much rather have a sandwich or two before bed."

Chekov shrugged. "You are usually clean-shaven, so I thought I would offer. And you shave, you will have more than a sandwich or two." He eyed Scotty critically. "You look too thin."

Scotty blinked, and then started to chuckle. "You're worse than my mother. A sandwich, and then bed. I'll be fine."

Chekov shook his head, standing up and letting all of the water splash off of him before stepping out of the tub. "You need someone to take care of you."

Scotty blinked again. "You know you don't have to take it on yourself to do that, don't you, lad?"

"Maybe I want to," Chekov murmured, plucking a white bathrobe off of a hook on the back of the door before leaning down to kiss Scotty's cheek.

"You're not leaving so soon, are you?" Scotty asked, a bit surprised. "There's still room for two in here."

Chekov smiled. "I am going to order the food, and see if I can find the bedroom again. Stay there, and relax."

Scotty raised his eyebrows at the younger man, but leaned back against the edge of the tub. "All right, but hurry back."

Chekov raised an eyebrow at him. "What for?"

"I've not seen you except for ship-wide broadcasts in four days," Scotty replied, looking pointedly at what he could see through the open bathrobe. "I rather miss looking at your arse, if you don't mind my saying."

Chekov laughed and headed out of the bathroom. "I'll be right back."

***

Scotty sank back on the bed, his eyelids at half-mast. "That," he announced, "was the most delicious thing I've ever tasted."

Chekov smiled, rolling Scotty over in order to free the bedspread from underneath of the man. He rolled Scotty back into position and drew up the blankets around his chest. "Good. And the massage?"

"Heavenly," Scotty murmured, reaching up to scratch his stubble with one hand. "The happy ending didn't hurt matters either. The things you can do with that mouth of yours..." he purred.

Chekov leaned down to kiss Scotty, slow and deep. He could feel the arousal returning, but he tamped it down as best he could. Scotty looked ready to drop off at any moment, and he wasn't kidding when he said that he liked Scotty as an active participant. "Go to sleep. I will be here."

"Bed's big enough for two," Scotty suggested. "Promise not to molest you while you're asleep."

Chekov smiled. "You would, but that is not the point. How am I supposed to make sure food and technical journals are waiting for you if I do not make preparations?"

The hint of a smile slipped from Scotty's mouth, and he reached up one hand to tug at Chekov's wrist. "Stay with me?"

Looking into the dark blue eyes, the spot of brown glinting in the natural light in the room, Chekov found himself nodding. "You are wery difficult."

"You wouldn' have me any other way, would you?" Scotty asked, the smile returning as Chekov lifted the covers and slid underneath of them, scooting closer until he felt a bed-warmed arm slip around his waist.

"Definitely not," Chekov agreed, dropping a kiss on Scotty's lips before sinking down into the mattress, reveling in the softness of the pillow. "Go to sleep. You deserve it."

Scotty hummed and scooted closer. Chekov felt a kiss against his curly hair, and then Scotty relax into the mattress beside him, and drift off to sleep.

END