FIC: One Little Bite [Star Trek XI]
Jun. 30th, 2009 11:48 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
darktrent182TITLE: One Little Bite
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: 6,683
RATING: NC-17
WARNINGS: Vampire!Scotty
SUMMARY: Scotty being distracted is only the tip of the iceberg.
CHALLENGE: Written for the![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
st_xi_kink, because I'm a sheep.
PROMPT: Click here for details.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: Thanks to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
raikomotomiya and stardate64783 for their help and encouragement. Set in the same universe as Foot in the Door.
***
It was one of those gamma shifts spent in Scotty's quarters where it was taking work home, but it was the kind of work they both enjoyed. The lights were bright enough to see by, but low enough to be comfortable. The coffee table that Scotty had brought to the ship when he'd been made Chief Engineer was pushed against one wall so that they could both sit on the floor comfortably as they worked. Sure, working while sitting on the couch was fine, but this was the sort of thing that required his attention. Getting distracted by dead comfortable sofa cushions and what could be done on them, while nice, wouldn't really help matters.
Chekov frowned at a PADD, the black shirt he was wearing setting off the paleness of his skin. A freckle or two on his neck caught Scotty's eye, and he found himself wondering how long it had been since he and Bones had last drank together. A week ago? Maybe two?
Chekov finally looked at Scotty, his eyebrows lifting in polite curiosity. "Yes?"
Scotty's eyes snapped up to meet Chekov's. "Sorry. Got a bit distracted."
The younger man frowned for a moment before realization dawned. "You... have not fed recently?"
Scotty cleared his throat. It wasn't a subject they talked about all that much -- that Scotty was a vampire and had been for years, and that he needed to drink blood every once in a while, just to keep in fighting trim. Chekov knew about it, of course -- with the way he'd found out, he couldn't really have avoided it -- but it didn't mean that Scotty was altogether comfortable with him knowing. It caused the kinds of thoughts that made Scotty wonder about the nature of their relationship, whether they were together because of how well they meshed with each other, or if there was an element of novelty in it for the Russian.
Scotty shied away from that topic, and shrugged. "Bones's been busy. And anyway, it's not like I'm going to die if I don't get it."
Chekov nodded slowly, not looking entirely convinced, but willing to let it slide. "Would you like to?"
"We've been over this, lad." Scotty shot him a look that wasn't surprised. "You're not food."
"I know, but it is not food this way," Chekov pointed out.
Scotty's eyes narrowed. "Oh? What is it, then?"
"It is..." Chekov paused, considering his next words. "It is taking care of you. Making sure you are well enough to perform your duties."
Scotty smiled at the effort he was making. "You know how I spent six months on Delta Vega?"
Chekov frowned at the change of subject, but nodded. "You were living on rations."
"And what do you think I did to drink blood?" Scotty asked.
The younger man blinked. "I thought you had fed from Keenser?"
Scotty laughed out loud with a wince. "Oh, come on, lad! I have some standards. Besides, Keenser's blood's acidic. The first time I'd try taking a pint, my tongue'd probably burn right off."
Bright blue eyes widened. "What did you do?"
"I went without, of course." Scotty shrugged. "It's easy enough to do, since the outpost there didn't have major emergencies every week like the Enterprise does."
"Weren't you hungry at all?"
Scotty smiled. "Wouldn't you be if you were living off Starfleet protein nibs?"
"But..." Chekov shook his head, still looking confused. "How could you starve yourself? Don't you and Doctor McCoy drink together once a week?"
"When we can find the time, aye," Scotty acknowledged. "But we're not always drinking blood when we do that. Sometimes I bring my whiskey or he breaks out good bourbon. It's having someone to drink with that's the important thing."
Chekov blinked. "Oh."
"It's all right, lad." Scotty winked solemnly. "You didn't know."
They each went back to their respective PADDs, with Chekov shifting every once in a while and Scotty occasionally glancing at his neck and wishing he wasn't so damned principled.
Chekov broke the silence, then. "So, you do not need to feed, but you are still hungry, yes?"
Scotty nodded distractedly, still looking at his PADD. "It's more like feeling a might peckish, but that's about the size of it."
"And you do not want to drink from me, because you think of the people you drink from as food?" Chekov looked up from his PADD to watch Scotty's profile.
Scotty nodded. "Right again. And you are most definitely not food."
"But, if you go by that reasoning," Chekov said, still watching him, "then I could be food."
Scotty frowned, turning to look at him. "I don't follow."
"You said that Doctor McCoy uses blood from the emergency medical supplies, yes?" Chekov asked, looking intent. "Sometimes he mixes it into the alcohol that you two drink?"
Scotty nodded slowly. "Aye."
"Then it is possible that you have drunk my blood, depending on if Doctor McCoy does not pay attention to which crew member's samples he gets the blood from." Chekov smiled, looking as if he'd won an argument.
"There's a difference between drinking blood that's already mixed into bourbon and actually latching onto someone's neck," Scotty said firmly. "Even if I might've drunk your blood, I've no way of knowing, have I? I could have been drinking Uhura's blood for all I know, or the captain's."
Chekov narrowed his eyes. "You are a wery frustrating man, Mister Scott."
"Considering what it is you're suggesting, I'll take that as a compliment," Scotty replied, grinning. He leaned over and bussed the Russian on his cheek. "I'm perfectly fine."
Chekov shot him one last skeptical look before turning back to his PADD, his stylus tapping away at some equations.
Twenty minutes passed before Chekov said, "You're staring."
Blue-grey eyes jerked away from the freckle on Chekov's neck they'd been focused on. "Sorry."
Chekov sighed and closed the program he was looking at, setting down the PADD and turning to the older man. "It is wery distracting."
"I did apologize," Scotty pointed out. "Won't happen again, promise."
Chekov snorted. "Until it does. Here, how about we play a game?"
"Game?" Scotty's eyebrows rose.
"Yes." Chekov nodded. "I believe it's called 'Just the Tip'."
Scotty coughed, looking at Chekov with some surprise. "You do know how that's played, right?"
Chekov looked singularly unimpressed. "I was a wirgin before we started dating, not stupid. Instead of you trying to penetrate me, bite me with just the tips of your fangs."
"Oh, like that's an improvement over the original," Scotty muttered. "Feeding is still feeding."
Chekov shook his head firmly. "It is not." He held up his index finger. "One, your fangs do not inject a poison, nor does your saliva have any effect." He added his middle finger. "Two, you do not absorb blood through the fangs. The fangs are only to break the skin so that you have easier access to the blood without seriously injuring the person you're drinking from, yes?"
Scotty shook his head. "They're also to keep prey in place. They're so bloody long for a reason."
Chekov cleared his throat, looking a bit surprised. "You have never shown me them before, so I do not know how long they are."
"You have too seen them before," Scotty objected. "How else would you have known I was a vampire?"
Chekov shook his head. "You were in the middle of rescuing me from a prison planet. I did not exactly have time to see just how long they were."
Scotty snorted. "You're impossible, you know that."
The young man blinked at his tone. "You're going to show me?"
"If it'll shut you up about this feeding business," Scotty half-muttered. He closed his eyes and concentrated on running his tongue over his teeth.
"What are you doing?" Chekov asked.
Scotty opened his eyes to see the Russian eying him curiously. "I'm getting my fangs out, what do you think?"
"I thought you could only bare them when you were in a stressful situation." Chekov frowned.
"If that were the only time, my sex life would've been a lot lonelier," Scotty pointed out dryly. He saw the look on Chekov's face, and gusted a sigh. "All right, fine. This is only going to happen just this once, and it's only for the demonstration."
Chekov frowned again. "What is?"
"You're going to help me get them out," Scotty said, scooting closer to the younger man until they were nearly shoulder to shoulder. "Now, remember how I've told you not to run your tongue along my teeth whenever we kiss?"
Chekov nodded, looking intensely curious.
"Do it, only this time, focus on my canines. A stroke or two normally does the trick." He looked at Chekov in the eye. "Got it?"
Chekov nodded, a smile spreading across his lips. Straddling Scotty's lap, Chekov slid his arms around Scotty's neck, and kissed him deeply.
It didn't take long for the fangs to extend -- suddenly having a lapful of enthusiastic Russian helped quite a bit -- and when they separated for air, Scotty found himself struggling against the arousal that was sparking through him.
"Your eyes..." Chekov murmured curiously. "They are not red."
"It's a near thing," Scotty managed around the fangs, breathing heavily. "I'm trying not to get overexcited."
Chekov wriggled, and Scotty clapped both of his hands on Chekov's hips firmly. "And you're not helping."
"What if you did get overexcited?" Chekov murmured, leaning in close enough that Scotty could feel his breath against his lips.
"You don't want that to happen," Scotty said firmly, closing the distance just enough to barely brush his lips against Chekov's. "Trust me."
Chekov sighed slowly, reaching up a hand to stroke Scotty's cheek. "You are not a monster."
"I know I'm not," Scotty murmured, nuzzling at the hand. He caught a gentle whiff of something... enticing, and before he knew it, his lips were pressed to Chekov's wrist, and the overwhelming urge to bite, to see the red blossom out and run down that pale skin--
He jerked his lips away, looking into Chekov's eyes.
The whites of his eyes slowly filled with red as Chekov watched, and then his lips pulled into a slow, dangerous smile, the fangs sharp and white against his skin.
"Just a wee nip, then?" he murmured, straightening up until their noses were a few inches apart.
Chekov stared into his eyes and shivered, nodding once.
Scotty grinned before kissing Chekov's lips, then his jaw, and then kissing a trail down the length of his neck, brushing his lips against the point where the neck met the shoulder. Then he dragged the fangs ever so lightly against the warm, pale skin.
Chekov gasped, the pleasant shiver intensifying. Scotty could feel the younger man twitch in his trousers where he straddled Scotty's waist.
"So warm," Scotty purred, licking a small patch and then gently blowing on it.
Chekov whimpered, his body stiffening.
"Absolutely lovely," Scotty murmured. "It's almost a shame to break this pretty skin."
"Please," Chekov whispered.
"Hmm?" Scotty slid his hand up Chekov's side, and then tugged the collar as far away from where his lips were as possible without ripping the fabric. "Please what?"
"Bite me," Chekov whispered, shivering again.
Scotty grinned. "That's not what you're supposed to say, lad." He dropped a gentle kiss against the bared skin as a consolation prize. "You're supposed to beg me not to. You're not supposed to like it this much."
Chekov whimper-growled, shaking his head. "I won't lie to you. I want this."
Scotty growled in response, kissing a messy trail up to Chekov's ear. "Just for that, you're getting only the just the tips." He kissed his way down again, and when he got to the skin he'd been toying with moments before, he opened his mouth and bit down as gently as possible.
Blood welled from the two puncture wounds, hot and rich, but it was the Russian's loud moan, the hands reaching up to cradle his head, fingers urging him closer, further, deeper that distracted him. For a moment, blood dribbled onto his tongue, and then he remembered himself, remembered what he was supposed to be doing. Not deeper, not further, but pinching the small wounds shut with his lips, licking carefully at what little had spilled out, pathetically small compared to the artery so enticingly nearby, but much less dangerous. It was that sobering thought that made Scotty close his eyes, concentrate on retracting the fangs, and enjoy what little there was to savor.
Hands tightened on his head, and he found himself staring into bright blue eyes.
"That wasn't enough," Chekov croaked.
Scotty licked his lips, making sure to catch any stray drops he might have missed. "It's as much as you'll get."
Chekov glared at him, using his position to pin Scotty against the couch he'd been leaning against. He leaned in close to whisper against Scotty's ear, "Just for that, I'll only use just the tip."
Scotty jerked back, blue-grey eyes snapping up to meet Chekov's, and then Chekov was kissing him, hard. When he felt a slippery tongue pressing against his teeth, Scotty tried to pull back from the kiss, only to find that Chekov was holding him still, the tongue now flirting with the fangs that were extending.
He reached up, grabbed the back of Chekov's shirt, and pulled. "Wait--"
"You had better have good reason," Chekov growled, his hips thrusting against Scotty's.
Scotty groaned, gritting his teeth and closing his eyes, all the while feeling the fabric of Chekov's shirt under his fingers start to give.
"I do," Scotty managed. "Just give me a moment, and I'll remember it."
Chekov leaned forward, indulging in another hip-thrust, this one slower and harder than before. "Yes," he moaned, his breath shaky against Scotty's lips.
Scotty stared at him, taking in the heavy-lidded blue eyes, the flushed cheeks, the kiss-stung lips that were inches away from his. Chekov thrust against his hips, and Scotty started to thrust back when he could see the two small marks where he'd bitten Chekov just a minute ago. "No," he half-groaned, trying to figure out how to get leverage to get Chekov off his lap while Chekov ran his hands down Scotty's chest.
"Why no?" Chekov whispered, his accent thickening. He couldn't seem to stop himself from wetly kissing Scotty's lips.
"Lad-- Sweet Jesus," Scotty groaned loudly when Chekov did some sort of figure-eight motion against him with his hips that had Scotty grabbing two fistfuls of black shirt. Scotty sucked in a breath filled with Chekov's scent, and frantically grabbed at Chekov's hips to stop him. "Lad, that side of me-- it doesn't care who it hurts when it wants something."
Chekov stared at him, his lips parted. For a moment, Scotty thought that the younger man had finally come to his senses, but then he murmured, "It's a part of you. That's all that matters."
"Pavel--" Scotty began, but then Chekov leaned down, bypassing Scotty's mouth to try to kiss at his throat.
One of Scotty's hands snapped up to lock around the back of Chekov's neck like a vise.
"Don't."
"Or what?" came the even question.
"It's an instinct, lad, it's not something I can fight very easil--" Scotty's voice cut off into a loud groan as Chekov wriggled in his lap again, pressing a trapped erection against Scotty's groin and making Scotty wish they weren't wearing so many damn clothes.
The neck under his hand tried to move forward. Scotty's hand locked tighter around it.
"Stop."
"Bite me, and I will."
Scotty growled helplessly. "Dammit, Pavel."
There was a long pause, and then Chekov relaxed in Scotty's arms. The neck under Scotty's hand stopped straining, the hips against his were a heavy weight instead of the impossible wriggling just moments ago, and when Chekov pulled back to meet his gaze, the bright blue eyes were serious.
"All right," Chekov murmured, "I will stop."
Scotty frowned at him, not quite sure if Chekov was waiting to surprise him. The younger man was surprisingly good at playing innocent until the last moment when he wanted something. "Promise?"
Chekov nodded before sighing heavily, his arms sliding around Scotty's neck in a loose embrace. "I do not see why we can't," he muttered, irritated.
Scotty glared up at him, the whites of his eyes still red, and his fangs visible against his bottom lip. "You have eyes, lad. You've seen what I can do when I'm like this. I don't want you to have some sort of romanticized idea that having sex with a vampire with a full mad-on is going to be a walk in the park."
Chekov snorted, shifting his weight. "Sorry," he apologized when Scotty's hands clapped on his hips to keep him still. "But it is... exciting. To think that even when you are reduced to... a primal nature, you still want to feed from me. You could have ripped my throat open with your teeth, but you didn't. You love me, and you won't hurt me."
"Pavel, you're not getting it," Scotty snapped. "When I've had sex just to feed from someone, they woke up the next morning with cuts and bruises. Hell, I damn near broke a lad's arm once because he thought I was playing with him. This is dead serious."
"You won't hurt me," Chekov said simply. "I know what you are, Scotty. I know what you can do. Already, I have the advantage over the people you have fed from." He leaned in close to brush a kiss over Scotty's lips.
Scotty accepted the brief kiss and looked up at him with a sigh. He could already feel himself starting to give in, but he needed to do this before anything else happened.
"Promise me."
Chekov blinked, surprised disbelief in his eyes. "That you won't hurt me?"
"That you won't let me hurt you," Scotty said firmly. "If it looks like I'm going to do anything at all to hurt you -- and I mean anything -- I need to know you're going to do your damndest to survive."
Chekov nodded solemnly. "I promise."
Scotty watched him for a long moment, taking in the light flush on Chekov's cheeks, the bright blue eyes looking so full of life and energy. The light smell of sweat and his off-duty clothes. The weight of him in his lap. The tantalizing smell of blood, warm and thick that Scotty had only gotten a taste of before. The way Chekov was licking his lips now and leaning in...
Scotty closed his eyes for a moment, and thought to himself, Fuck it.
Power surged through his arms, his legs and hips, sending both of them to the floor. There was some rolling, with Chekov trying to roll on top before Scotty pinned him to the ground and ravished his mouth. A tongue poked at his fangs, and Scotty could feel blood rushing through him from head to toe.
The black shirt's neckline shredded as Scotty tried to get at Chekov's skin, blue eyes flashing momentarily with panic before Scotty slid his hand along warm, soft skin. He moved down quickly, handfuls of shirt giving way before he nuzzled and licked at the revealed skin.
When he sucked at a nipple, the body beneath him groaned, hands finding his head, fingers rubbing through his short hair. He could feel a light dusting of chest hair against his cheek when he nuzzled at the pectoral, the heartbeat fast and hard under his ear before he growled and moved further downward.
There were arteries in the thighs, the groin. He could tease himself with their closeness before moving on to the main feast. They had time.
The fly of Chekov's trousers gave way under impossibly strong hands, revealing two very important details. First, that they weren't as durable as they'd first appeared. The second was that Chekov wasn't wearing underwear.
Chekov propped himself up on his elbows, watching with wide blue eyes as Scotty growled.
Scotty threw an arm over Chekov's hips to keep him from moving, and then buried his nose into the wiry brown curls at the base of Chekov's erection, inhaling deeply.
"Požalujsta," Chekov groaned, his fingers finding Scotty's hair again and trying to run through the buzzcut without much luck. Scotty mouthed at the skin, the scent of musk and blood filling his nose and threatening to make him dizzy. He licked at one side of Chekov's flesh, humming a little at the taste, but giving it an apologetic kiss before tearing the rest of the fabric and exposing Chekov's pale thighs.
Vaguely, in the back of his mind, he remembered paying attention to Chekov's thighs before on other occasions, learning where he was ticklish, and where he could nibble to make the younger man groan.
Part of him wanted to bite down, drink from the femoral artery, but there was always a danger. It was harder to stop bleeding when it was the thigh, and if he couldn't stop the bleeding, things would get ugly.
Fingers in his hair suddenly tightened, grabbing what little they could and pulling. Scotty bared his teeth and snarled, lifting his head up and glaring at Chekov.
Chekov was breathing deeply, his lips parted. He shook his head, and swallowed before managing, "Not there."
Scotty's eyes narrowed, irritation taking hold. "Not here?" he snarled, stroking Chekov's thigh possessively.
Chekov pressed his lips together and shook his head again. "Not there."
"Then where?" Scotty rasped, his hand sliding over to Chekov's groin, and then squeezing the base of the man's erection firmly. "Here?" he asked with a smirk.
"Do it, and I'll break your neck," Chekov warned in a low tone.
"You will?" Scotty asked, looking ghoulishly amused. Suddenly, Chekov found himself on his back, with Scotty's lips at his ear. "What if I wanted to drain you dry? Make a mess on this nice, clean carpet? Maybe I should turn you instead. You'd make a lovely vampire, all big blue eyes and unquenchable thirst."
"You won't do that," Chekov said firmly. "Any of it."
Scotty licked a wet stripe from the base of Chekov's neck back up to his ear, reveling in the shiver the movement produced. "You sound sure of that, lad."
"I am sure," Chekov growled. Just as suddenly, he shoved at Scotty's chest as hard as he could, managing to free himself just enough to wriggle out of the way.
Scotty followed, almost a blur of motion until Chekov found himself pressed against a wall, his hands held at the wrists over his head in one of Scotty's hands. "You cannae run." He leaned in, kissing at the pale neck and running his tongue over the small red puncture marks he'd made earlier.
Chekov shivered. "If you are going to bite me," he murmured, his eyes half-lidded, "bite me in bed."
"And who're you to be giving orders?" Scotty asked, his voice roughening with irritation.
"I am yours," Chekov murmured. "And you are mine."
Scotty considered this for a moment, and then knelt down quickly, throwing Chekov over one shoulder.
Chekov yelped, fighting to right himself and yelping again when Scotty ripped the seat of his trousers and swatted his backside. He cursed loudly in Russian before demanding, "Put me down!"
"First you say you want to be bit in bed, and now you're saying to put you down?" Scotty asked lightly, heading for the bedroom. One of his arms was like a steel cable wrapped around Chekov's legs, while the man's free hand was lightly groping his ass. "You really should make up your mind, lad."
"I did not mean carry me like a sack of potatoes!" Chekov snapped.
Scotty chuckled, low and dark enough to make the hairs on the back of Chekov's neck stand up. He yelped as he was tossed onto the bed, and after a bit of righting himself, he glared at Scotty.
Scotty, who was smirking and shrugging out of his shirt and tossing it to one side. His trousers and underwear came off in one motion, and soon, Scotty was crawling up the bed, his eyes focused with a laser-like intensity on Chekov's before they were nose to nose. "You're in bed now, lad," he whispered. "Anymore requests, or can I go about my work in peace?"
Chekov stared into his eyes and swallowed audibly before shaking his head.
"Good," Scotty growled, planting one hand on Chekov's chest and pushing him down. "On your back, and stay there."
Chekov bit his lower lip when he felt Scotty's lips at his collarbone. "But what if I don't want to?"
"Then you won't get bit, now, will you?" Scotty asked calmly, pushing aside the shredded remains of Chekov's shirt as he made his way down the younger man's chest, detouring to kiss and nibble at skin that proved ticklish, all the while one of his hands was driving Chekov to distraction, cradling and stroking him with maddening slowness.
Chekov's stomach muscles tensed when he felt Scotty's lips near his navel. "What did I say about biting me there?"
Red and dark blue eyes glared at him. "I'm not biting." He dropped a small kiss that could only be described as insolent on Chekov's lower abdomen. "And who said I was going to bite you here?"
"In Russian folktales, wampires are sneaky creatures," Chekov said, whimpering when he felt Scotty stroke him a few times, a thumb lightly tracing around the head. "You could be pretending you won't to surprise me."
"So, what does it say about you that you're sleeping with one?" Scotty smirked. "Get me the lube from the drawer."
Chekov's eyes narrowed. "What are you planning to do?"
Scotty growled, low and dangerous. "Do it."
Shooting his lover a look that was braver than he felt at the moment, Chekov fished out the tube of lubricant, his hand fumbling as he felt fingers teasing him and a tongue replacing the thumb at the head of his cock. "Scotty--"
Lips wrapped around him just as he found the tube, and he nearly dropped it on the floor. "Scotty--"
Scotty hummed a little around him, and Chekov found himself pinned to the bed with one arm, his hips trapped when he tried to thrust upwards.
Scotty took the tube from him, spreading some of the lubricant on his fingers before returning to tease Chekov's balls. The lips disappeared long enough for Scotty to murmur, "Hold still."
Chekov groaned. "Hold still. You do not hold still when I do this to you."
He felt a tongue swirl around him before red-and-dark-blue eyes met his gaze. "It's not my fault your lips are so pretty."
"I do not have pretty--" Chekov moaned when Scotty went back to licking and teasing him. He could feel the slippery fingers trace around his balls one last time before sliding back, teasing back and forth against him. He was pretty sure he started pleading in Russian, because Scotty was chuckling around him, causing him to moan again. There was a light scrape of teeth, causing Chekov to gasp, and then the warm mouth disappeared, the tongue replaced by a thumb as he felt a finger slip inside of him.
Chekov tried to breathe, but it felt like there wasn't any air in the room.
Scotty licked the inside of his mouth and smirked. "Yes, you do." Chekov could feel the finger inside him moving in slow circles, patiently stretching the muscle as if they had all night. "Do you know how you look right now?" he asked mildly.
Chekov shook his head slowly.
"Like temptation itself," Scotty said, watching him with those eyes. "And I don't want to fight it." He leaned down to indulge in a slow lick of Chekov's erection, smirking at the younger man's groan. His hands kept moving slowly, so damn slowly, and Chekov bit his lower lip.
"Faster," he gasped. "Please."
"Faster?" Scotty sounded amused. "And miss watching you shiver?" He pretended to think about it for a moment, looking sinister and curious at the same time. "What will you do for me if I go faster, then?"
Chekov whined, his teeth digging into his lip. "What do you want?"
"Oh," Scotty said with a chuckle, his fangs flashing as he grinned. "That's not the sort of question you ask a vampire, lad." He withdrew his finger and carefully added a second, twisting his wrist as he pushed in, forcing another groan out of the younger man.
"What can I offer--" Chekov groaned, trying his best to screw himself on Scotty's fingers and whining when Scotty wouldn't do it. "--that will make you say yes?"
Scotty ran a thumb over the head of Chekov's erection, his smile somehow fond and amused. "I'm not sure, actually. I rather like seeing you moaning like this. Begging me to get on with it."
Chekov didn't need to be told twice. "Please, Scotty," he murmured, meeting Scotty's gaze and reaching toward him with one shaking hand. "Don't tease me like this."
"But I'm enjoying myself," Scotty protested, a smile tugging at his lips. "Besides, your mouth says don't, but this--" He gave Chekov a long, slow pull, "--isn't objecting."
Chekov whimpered, the muscles in his legs tensing. "I want something bigger," he rasped. "More filling."
Scotty's eyes flashed for a moment before he smiled again. "More filling?" he asked, not sounding as innocent as he tried to look. Chekov felt the fingers disappear, and when they returned, there was a third helping to stretch him. "How's that, then?"
Chekov gritted his teeth and glared at Scotty. "Don't play games," he growled, thrusting towards the fingers, trying to take them deeper. "I am not wirgin you have to seduce."
"You certainly look like one," Scotty grinned. "Sweet. Wholesome. Innocent."
"If you do not fuck me now, I will tie you to bed and make you watch me fuck myself with dildo," Chekov snarled.
Scotty's eyes widened for a second, like a predator that had sighted its prey, and it was all the warning had before Chekov found himself pinned against the bed, his legs hooked over Scotty's shoulders as Scotty entered him. He shouted in surprise before Scotty crushed his mouth against his, and started thrusting, hard and fast.
Chekov could hear the slap of Scotty thrusting into him, skin meeting skin as he rocked back and forth. The smell of sweat, his and Scotty's intermingling filled his nose. The deep, wet kiss muted Scotty's growls but Chekov could still feel them through his lips. When Scotty pulled back, Chekov could see the familiar dark blue irises, with the small brown patch in the right one, surrounded by blood-red brilliance.
"Bloody--" Scotty grunted, burying himself to the hilt and breathing heavily.
"Are you finished already?" Chekov asked, a bit surprised.
Scotty breathed a few more times before shaking his head. His lower lip slipped between his teeth, his fangs pressing against the pale skin. "Give me... a moment." He shifted, running his fingers down Chekov's thighs appreciatively for a moment before he pulled back and thrust in, taking his time with each movement.
Chekov groaned, his head sagging back onto the pillow. "Scotty," he half-whined.
Scotty shook his head, the grin returning, but this time, it was fond and amazed and just a little crazed. "I'm fucking you now, lad. If you want something, you're going to have to be more specific."
Chekov glared up at him. "You know what I meant."
Scotty's eyes narrowed, but he didn't quicken his pace. "Do I, now?"
"You are wery frustrating," Chekov grumbled, breathing in a little sharply when one of Scotty's thrusts rubbed against his prostate.
"I know," Scotty said smugly. "Now, I believe you were going to ask me to do something?" He bit his lip again as he kept the unhurried pace, and Chekov found himself distracted by two small points of red.
He frowned. "You're bleeding."
Scotty frowned. "What?"
"You," Chekov said, reaching up with a thumb and brushing it against one of the small puncture wounds. There was a spot of blood on his thumb, which he showed to Scotty.
Scotty closed his eyes tightly, his jaw tightening as he gritted his teeth. "Don't show me, lad."
Chekov shot him a surprised look he couldn't see. "You are that hungry?"
Scotty took a deep breath before nodding twice. "I said before I was feeling a might peckish. My own blood isn't going to help, though."
Chekov hummed, sounding like he was almost thinking while Scotty thrust back and forth inside of him, and when Scotty heard a sucking sound, his eyes snapped open.
Chekov blinked, pulling the thumb out of his mouth that had wiped away Scotty's blood.
Scotty froze.
"What?" Chekov asked, looking confused.
"You just drank my blood," Scotty said, almost blankly.
Chekov blinked again, and looked down at his thumb. "So I did," he said with a frown. "Was I not supposed to?"
Scotty stared at his bright blue eyes, his full lower lip. "It won't turn you," he replied slowly.
Relief appeared in Chekov's eyes. "Ah." He reached up again with his thumb and wiped at the other puncture in Scotty's lip, catching where it had started to run down Scotty's chin. Bright blue eyes watched him curiously before Scotty could see the idea forming on Chekov's face.
Chekov brought the bloody thumb to his mouth, and licked it with one, slow swipe.
Scotty's hips snapped forward, unable to stop themselves. The deep kiss that followed was hard, messy, and Scotty could taste his own blood on Chekov's tongue. They were breathless when the kiss ended, and Chekov's eyes were at half-mast.
"Scotty--" Chekov managed before Scotty's hips snapped forward again. He grunted, throwing an arm up to brace himself against the headboard.
Scotty growled, pausing long enough to adjust his grip on Chekov's hips before setting a hard, fast pace. Chekov panted and moaned and whined as Scotty's thrusts grew wilder, and when he started pleading, first in English, and then in Russian, Scotty obliged.
Surging forward, fangs sank into the soft skin of Chekov's neck, and Chekov let out a surprisingly loud shout as he came.
Scotty drank, the sweet taste of blood filling his mouth before he forced himself to stop, pinch the wounds closed, and then licked away the evidence. There were hands in his hair, petting and rubbing and languid. He nosed at one of them gently, kissing the palm before sucking the last few traces of the blood that had made his head swim.
Chekov shivered, murmuring something incoherent, but too boneless from the orgasm to make much sense. Scotty was fairly sure what he meant to say, though.
Scotty pulled out gingerly, murmuring an apology when Chekov winced, and sank down onto the bed next to him, watching his face and chest as his eyes slowly went back to normal.
"That was..." Chekov rasped, licking his lips.
Scotty smiled, reaching over to brush Chekov's curls from where they were sticking to his forehead. "Aye."
Chekov shivered at the touch, his eyes closing as he hummed. "Is it always like that?"
Scotty nodded. "I could probably take a nip from you in a hallway and probably leave you in the same state," he replied. "Though, you'd have a time explaining why you smelled like sex when you got to the bridge."
One blue eye opened to shoot Scotty a look that was somehow both disapproving and intensely curious. "You are not going to do that," he said slowly, "are you?"
Scotty snorted. "No. That's just asking for trouble."
"Mmm," Chekov hummed. "Is good point."
Scotty watched him for a moment longer before he asked, "How're you feeling?"
If Scotty didn't know any better, he would've sworn Chekov was radiating smugness. "Like I've eaten dozens of canaries," he purred, stretching out in bed and almost smirking. "Will you do that again soon?"
Scotty frowned. "Not too soon. You might feel a bit tired for a day or two. Blood loss isn't very forgiving."
Chekov hummed and nodded. "Is probably better this way." At Scotty's curious frown, he smirked. "If we could do that everyday, I would never let you leave the bed."
Scotty snorted, leaning over to kiss Chekov's temple. "Aye, lad. If I didn't show up for my shift, there'd be more than a few people looking to serve my head on a silver platter to the Captain."
Chekov shifted gingerly on the bed with a wince before looking down at the shredded remains of his clothes that he was still miraculously wearing. "Speaking of serving your head on a silver platter..." he muttered before shooting Scotty a dark look.
Scotty cleared his throat and ducked his head. "Sorry about that. I got carried away."
Chekov plucked uselessly at the remains of his black T-shirt. "I liked this shirt."
"I'll get you a new one?" Scotty offered.
"I hope so," Chekov replied. "If you are kicking me out again, I will need new clothes."
Scotty sighed. "I'm not kicking you out. We have to be discreet, and walking out of your lover's quarters after the night shift is hardly discreet."
Chekov rolled his eyes. "I am sure the crew knows, Scotty, and more importantly, they do not care. I will be nineteen in a month, more than past legal age of consent."
"Aye, but you don't look that different from when you were seventeen," Scotty pointed out. "It can be hard remembering how old you are when you're still bouncing down the corridors like a rabbit."
"I don't bounce." Chekov frowned. He still rolled over onto his side and slid an arm around Scotty's middle, though.
Scotty grinned. "'Course you do. You look adorable when you do."
Chekov shot him a dark look. "Adorable."
"Aye," Scotty agreed, sliding closer so that he could stroke Chekov's curly hair. "Have I ever mentioned you're sexy when you're going on about physics?"
"Many times," Chekov said, smiling a little before he shifted and grimaced. "We should get cleaned up."
Scotty nodded. "Back in a mo." He disappeared into the bathroom and emerged a minute later with a damp towel, which he used to carefully clean Chekov's abdomen and backside. Chekov shivered a little when the towel touched sensitive skin, but sagged back onto the bed. When Scotty got back, he kissed Chekov's lips gently and laid back down next to him.
"How are you feeling," Chekov murmured. "Are you still hungry?"
Scotty shook his head. "I'm all right. Full. Satisfied." He smiled a little at Chekov. "Happy."
"Happy is good," Chekov agreed. He looked Scotty in the eye and said simply, "Thank you."
Scotty frowned. "For what?"
"For biting me, even if you didn't want to," Chekov explained. "Was it difficult?"
Scotty sighed and shook his head. "All too easy, actually, but it's all right. You're here, and you're all right. That's all that matters to me right now."
Chekov watched him for a minute or two before scooting close enough to kiss his cheek. "Thank you for trusting me."
"Shouldn't I be saying that to you?" Scotty asked lightly.
Chekov shook his head. "You were worried I would get swept up in the moment and not treat the threat seriously."
"You were certainly pushing it a few times, there," Scotty grumbled, kissing his forehead gently. "Trying to show you weren't scared of me, were you?"
"A bit," Chekov agreed. "I also wanted to show you that even when you were like that, you would not hurt me." He brushed a finger over Scotty's lower lip and frowned. "Your lip is healed?"
"It doesn't take all that much blood to fix a small thing like that," Scotty pointed out, kissing the digit as it stroked the chapped skin. "What, did you want to lick my blood again?"
"I might be tempted," Chekov murmured, shifting a bit where he lay and looking up at Scotty intensely. "I did not think it would get that kind of... reaction out of you."
"Drinking blood's an intimate thing with us," Scotty explained. "There used to be all sorts of theories -- we were taking in part of the person's soul when we fed on them, that sort of thing. With you drinking my blood, it's a bit different."
"In what way?" Chekov asked curiously.
"You feel a bit more energetic, don't you?" Scotty asked.
Chekov frowned for a moment, stretched, and nodded, shooting Scotty a surprised look. "The blood?"
Scotty nodded. "And since vampires have more sensitive noses--" He tapped the side of his nose in illustration. "--drinking my blood is like wearing a sign around your neck saying, 'Property of Montgomery Scott'." He smiled a bit nervously. "I would've warned you, but I wasn't expecting you to do that."
Chekov considered that for a moment. Then, he sat up to lean over Scotty, his curly hair dangling as he looked down at him.
Scotty blinked, a bit surprised at the look in Chekov's eye. "Would it help if I apologized?"
Chekov shook his head slowly, a slow smile tugging at his lips.
Scotty's eyebrows rose. "Is this something I should be apologizing for?"
Again, Chekov shook his head slowly.
"Oh," Scotty said, non-plussed. "Good... right?"
Chekov nodded.
"You're going to screw me silly now, aren't you?" Scotty asked.
Chekov grinned.
Scotty heaved a mock-sigh. "You do realize I'm an old man, don't you? I don't have the kind of stamina to keep up with you."
"You have enough," Chekov purred, leaning down to kiss Scotty slowly.
When they surfaced from the kiss, Scotty was smiling up at him. "Aye, I think I do."
END
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: 6,683
RATING: NC-17
WARNINGS: Vampire!Scotty
SUMMARY: Scotty being distracted is only the tip of the iceberg.
CHALLENGE: Written for the
st_xi_kink, because I'm a sheep.PROMPT: Click here for details.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: Thanks to
raikomotomiya and stardate64783 for their help and encouragement. Set in the same universe as Foot in the Door.***
It was one of those gamma shifts spent in Scotty's quarters where it was taking work home, but it was the kind of work they both enjoyed. The lights were bright enough to see by, but low enough to be comfortable. The coffee table that Scotty had brought to the ship when he'd been made Chief Engineer was pushed against one wall so that they could both sit on the floor comfortably as they worked. Sure, working while sitting on the couch was fine, but this was the sort of thing that required his attention. Getting distracted by dead comfortable sofa cushions and what could be done on them, while nice, wouldn't really help matters.
Chekov frowned at a PADD, the black shirt he was wearing setting off the paleness of his skin. A freckle or two on his neck caught Scotty's eye, and he found himself wondering how long it had been since he and Bones had last drank together. A week ago? Maybe two?
Chekov finally looked at Scotty, his eyebrows lifting in polite curiosity. "Yes?"
Scotty's eyes snapped up to meet Chekov's. "Sorry. Got a bit distracted."
The younger man frowned for a moment before realization dawned. "You... have not fed recently?"
Scotty cleared his throat. It wasn't a subject they talked about all that much -- that Scotty was a vampire and had been for years, and that he needed to drink blood every once in a while, just to keep in fighting trim. Chekov knew about it, of course -- with the way he'd found out, he couldn't really have avoided it -- but it didn't mean that Scotty was altogether comfortable with him knowing. It caused the kinds of thoughts that made Scotty wonder about the nature of their relationship, whether they were together because of how well they meshed with each other, or if there was an element of novelty in it for the Russian.
Scotty shied away from that topic, and shrugged. "Bones's been busy. And anyway, it's not like I'm going to die if I don't get it."
Chekov nodded slowly, not looking entirely convinced, but willing to let it slide. "Would you like to?"
"We've been over this, lad." Scotty shot him a look that wasn't surprised. "You're not food."
"I know, but it is not food this way," Chekov pointed out.
Scotty's eyes narrowed. "Oh? What is it, then?"
"It is..." Chekov paused, considering his next words. "It is taking care of you. Making sure you are well enough to perform your duties."
Scotty smiled at the effort he was making. "You know how I spent six months on Delta Vega?"
Chekov frowned at the change of subject, but nodded. "You were living on rations."
"And what do you think I did to drink blood?" Scotty asked.
The younger man blinked. "I thought you had fed from Keenser?"
Scotty laughed out loud with a wince. "Oh, come on, lad! I have some standards. Besides, Keenser's blood's acidic. The first time I'd try taking a pint, my tongue'd probably burn right off."
Bright blue eyes widened. "What did you do?"
"I went without, of course." Scotty shrugged. "It's easy enough to do, since the outpost there didn't have major emergencies every week like the Enterprise does."
"Weren't you hungry at all?"
Scotty smiled. "Wouldn't you be if you were living off Starfleet protein nibs?"
"But..." Chekov shook his head, still looking confused. "How could you starve yourself? Don't you and Doctor McCoy drink together once a week?"
"When we can find the time, aye," Scotty acknowledged. "But we're not always drinking blood when we do that. Sometimes I bring my whiskey or he breaks out good bourbon. It's having someone to drink with that's the important thing."
Chekov blinked. "Oh."
"It's all right, lad." Scotty winked solemnly. "You didn't know."
They each went back to their respective PADDs, with Chekov shifting every once in a while and Scotty occasionally glancing at his neck and wishing he wasn't so damned principled.
Chekov broke the silence, then. "So, you do not need to feed, but you are still hungry, yes?"
Scotty nodded distractedly, still looking at his PADD. "It's more like feeling a might peckish, but that's about the size of it."
"And you do not want to drink from me, because you think of the people you drink from as food?" Chekov looked up from his PADD to watch Scotty's profile.
Scotty nodded. "Right again. And you are most definitely not food."
"But, if you go by that reasoning," Chekov said, still watching him, "then I could be food."
Scotty frowned, turning to look at him. "I don't follow."
"You said that Doctor McCoy uses blood from the emergency medical supplies, yes?" Chekov asked, looking intent. "Sometimes he mixes it into the alcohol that you two drink?"
Scotty nodded slowly. "Aye."
"Then it is possible that you have drunk my blood, depending on if Doctor McCoy does not pay attention to which crew member's samples he gets the blood from." Chekov smiled, looking as if he'd won an argument.
"There's a difference between drinking blood that's already mixed into bourbon and actually latching onto someone's neck," Scotty said firmly. "Even if I might've drunk your blood, I've no way of knowing, have I? I could have been drinking Uhura's blood for all I know, or the captain's."
Chekov narrowed his eyes. "You are a wery frustrating man, Mister Scott."
"Considering what it is you're suggesting, I'll take that as a compliment," Scotty replied, grinning. He leaned over and bussed the Russian on his cheek. "I'm perfectly fine."
Chekov shot him one last skeptical look before turning back to his PADD, his stylus tapping away at some equations.
Twenty minutes passed before Chekov said, "You're staring."
Blue-grey eyes jerked away from the freckle on Chekov's neck they'd been focused on. "Sorry."
Chekov sighed and closed the program he was looking at, setting down the PADD and turning to the older man. "It is wery distracting."
"I did apologize," Scotty pointed out. "Won't happen again, promise."
Chekov snorted. "Until it does. Here, how about we play a game?"
"Game?" Scotty's eyebrows rose.
"Yes." Chekov nodded. "I believe it's called 'Just the Tip'."
Scotty coughed, looking at Chekov with some surprise. "You do know how that's played, right?"
Chekov looked singularly unimpressed. "I was a wirgin before we started dating, not stupid. Instead of you trying to penetrate me, bite me with just the tips of your fangs."
"Oh, like that's an improvement over the original," Scotty muttered. "Feeding is still feeding."
Chekov shook his head firmly. "It is not." He held up his index finger. "One, your fangs do not inject a poison, nor does your saliva have any effect." He added his middle finger. "Two, you do not absorb blood through the fangs. The fangs are only to break the skin so that you have easier access to the blood without seriously injuring the person you're drinking from, yes?"
Scotty shook his head. "They're also to keep prey in place. They're so bloody long for a reason."
Chekov cleared his throat, looking a bit surprised. "You have never shown me them before, so I do not know how long they are."
"You have too seen them before," Scotty objected. "How else would you have known I was a vampire?"
Chekov shook his head. "You were in the middle of rescuing me from a prison planet. I did not exactly have time to see just how long they were."
Scotty snorted. "You're impossible, you know that."
The young man blinked at his tone. "You're going to show me?"
"If it'll shut you up about this feeding business," Scotty half-muttered. He closed his eyes and concentrated on running his tongue over his teeth.
"What are you doing?" Chekov asked.
Scotty opened his eyes to see the Russian eying him curiously. "I'm getting my fangs out, what do you think?"
"I thought you could only bare them when you were in a stressful situation." Chekov frowned.
"If that were the only time, my sex life would've been a lot lonelier," Scotty pointed out dryly. He saw the look on Chekov's face, and gusted a sigh. "All right, fine. This is only going to happen just this once, and it's only for the demonstration."
Chekov frowned again. "What is?"
"You're going to help me get them out," Scotty said, scooting closer to the younger man until they were nearly shoulder to shoulder. "Now, remember how I've told you not to run your tongue along my teeth whenever we kiss?"
Chekov nodded, looking intensely curious.
"Do it, only this time, focus on my canines. A stroke or two normally does the trick." He looked at Chekov in the eye. "Got it?"
Chekov nodded, a smile spreading across his lips. Straddling Scotty's lap, Chekov slid his arms around Scotty's neck, and kissed him deeply.
It didn't take long for the fangs to extend -- suddenly having a lapful of enthusiastic Russian helped quite a bit -- and when they separated for air, Scotty found himself struggling against the arousal that was sparking through him.
"Your eyes..." Chekov murmured curiously. "They are not red."
"It's a near thing," Scotty managed around the fangs, breathing heavily. "I'm trying not to get overexcited."
Chekov wriggled, and Scotty clapped both of his hands on Chekov's hips firmly. "And you're not helping."
"What if you did get overexcited?" Chekov murmured, leaning in close enough that Scotty could feel his breath against his lips.
"You don't want that to happen," Scotty said firmly, closing the distance just enough to barely brush his lips against Chekov's. "Trust me."
Chekov sighed slowly, reaching up a hand to stroke Scotty's cheek. "You are not a monster."
"I know I'm not," Scotty murmured, nuzzling at the hand. He caught a gentle whiff of something... enticing, and before he knew it, his lips were pressed to Chekov's wrist, and the overwhelming urge to bite, to see the red blossom out and run down that pale skin--
He jerked his lips away, looking into Chekov's eyes.
The whites of his eyes slowly filled with red as Chekov watched, and then his lips pulled into a slow, dangerous smile, the fangs sharp and white against his skin.
"Just a wee nip, then?" he murmured, straightening up until their noses were a few inches apart.
Chekov stared into his eyes and shivered, nodding once.
Scotty grinned before kissing Chekov's lips, then his jaw, and then kissing a trail down the length of his neck, brushing his lips against the point where the neck met the shoulder. Then he dragged the fangs ever so lightly against the warm, pale skin.
Chekov gasped, the pleasant shiver intensifying. Scotty could feel the younger man twitch in his trousers where he straddled Scotty's waist.
"So warm," Scotty purred, licking a small patch and then gently blowing on it.
Chekov whimpered, his body stiffening.
"Absolutely lovely," Scotty murmured. "It's almost a shame to break this pretty skin."
"Please," Chekov whispered.
"Hmm?" Scotty slid his hand up Chekov's side, and then tugged the collar as far away from where his lips were as possible without ripping the fabric. "Please what?"
"Bite me," Chekov whispered, shivering again.
Scotty grinned. "That's not what you're supposed to say, lad." He dropped a gentle kiss against the bared skin as a consolation prize. "You're supposed to beg me not to. You're not supposed to like it this much."
Chekov whimper-growled, shaking his head. "I won't lie to you. I want this."
Scotty growled in response, kissing a messy trail up to Chekov's ear. "Just for that, you're getting only the just the tips." He kissed his way down again, and when he got to the skin he'd been toying with moments before, he opened his mouth and bit down as gently as possible.
Blood welled from the two puncture wounds, hot and rich, but it was the Russian's loud moan, the hands reaching up to cradle his head, fingers urging him closer, further, deeper that distracted him. For a moment, blood dribbled onto his tongue, and then he remembered himself, remembered what he was supposed to be doing. Not deeper, not further, but pinching the small wounds shut with his lips, licking carefully at what little had spilled out, pathetically small compared to the artery so enticingly nearby, but much less dangerous. It was that sobering thought that made Scotty close his eyes, concentrate on retracting the fangs, and enjoy what little there was to savor.
Hands tightened on his head, and he found himself staring into bright blue eyes.
"That wasn't enough," Chekov croaked.
Scotty licked his lips, making sure to catch any stray drops he might have missed. "It's as much as you'll get."
Chekov glared at him, using his position to pin Scotty against the couch he'd been leaning against. He leaned in close to whisper against Scotty's ear, "Just for that, I'll only use just the tip."
Scotty jerked back, blue-grey eyes snapping up to meet Chekov's, and then Chekov was kissing him, hard. When he felt a slippery tongue pressing against his teeth, Scotty tried to pull back from the kiss, only to find that Chekov was holding him still, the tongue now flirting with the fangs that were extending.
He reached up, grabbed the back of Chekov's shirt, and pulled. "Wait--"
"You had better have good reason," Chekov growled, his hips thrusting against Scotty's.
Scotty groaned, gritting his teeth and closing his eyes, all the while feeling the fabric of Chekov's shirt under his fingers start to give.
"I do," Scotty managed. "Just give me a moment, and I'll remember it."
Chekov leaned forward, indulging in another hip-thrust, this one slower and harder than before. "Yes," he moaned, his breath shaky against Scotty's lips.
Scotty stared at him, taking in the heavy-lidded blue eyes, the flushed cheeks, the kiss-stung lips that were inches away from his. Chekov thrust against his hips, and Scotty started to thrust back when he could see the two small marks where he'd bitten Chekov just a minute ago. "No," he half-groaned, trying to figure out how to get leverage to get Chekov off his lap while Chekov ran his hands down Scotty's chest.
"Why no?" Chekov whispered, his accent thickening. He couldn't seem to stop himself from wetly kissing Scotty's lips.
"Lad-- Sweet Jesus," Scotty groaned loudly when Chekov did some sort of figure-eight motion against him with his hips that had Scotty grabbing two fistfuls of black shirt. Scotty sucked in a breath filled with Chekov's scent, and frantically grabbed at Chekov's hips to stop him. "Lad, that side of me-- it doesn't care who it hurts when it wants something."
Chekov stared at him, his lips parted. For a moment, Scotty thought that the younger man had finally come to his senses, but then he murmured, "It's a part of you. That's all that matters."
"Pavel--" Scotty began, but then Chekov leaned down, bypassing Scotty's mouth to try to kiss at his throat.
One of Scotty's hands snapped up to lock around the back of Chekov's neck like a vise.
"Don't."
"Or what?" came the even question.
"It's an instinct, lad, it's not something I can fight very easil--" Scotty's voice cut off into a loud groan as Chekov wriggled in his lap again, pressing a trapped erection against Scotty's groin and making Scotty wish they weren't wearing so many damn clothes.
The neck under his hand tried to move forward. Scotty's hand locked tighter around it.
"Stop."
"Bite me, and I will."
Scotty growled helplessly. "Dammit, Pavel."
There was a long pause, and then Chekov relaxed in Scotty's arms. The neck under Scotty's hand stopped straining, the hips against his were a heavy weight instead of the impossible wriggling just moments ago, and when Chekov pulled back to meet his gaze, the bright blue eyes were serious.
"All right," Chekov murmured, "I will stop."
Scotty frowned at him, not quite sure if Chekov was waiting to surprise him. The younger man was surprisingly good at playing innocent until the last moment when he wanted something. "Promise?"
Chekov nodded before sighing heavily, his arms sliding around Scotty's neck in a loose embrace. "I do not see why we can't," he muttered, irritated.
Scotty glared up at him, the whites of his eyes still red, and his fangs visible against his bottom lip. "You have eyes, lad. You've seen what I can do when I'm like this. I don't want you to have some sort of romanticized idea that having sex with a vampire with a full mad-on is going to be a walk in the park."
Chekov snorted, shifting his weight. "Sorry," he apologized when Scotty's hands clapped on his hips to keep him still. "But it is... exciting. To think that even when you are reduced to... a primal nature, you still want to feed from me. You could have ripped my throat open with your teeth, but you didn't. You love me, and you won't hurt me."
"Pavel, you're not getting it," Scotty snapped. "When I've had sex just to feed from someone, they woke up the next morning with cuts and bruises. Hell, I damn near broke a lad's arm once because he thought I was playing with him. This is dead serious."
"You won't hurt me," Chekov said simply. "I know what you are, Scotty. I know what you can do. Already, I have the advantage over the people you have fed from." He leaned in close to brush a kiss over Scotty's lips.
Scotty accepted the brief kiss and looked up at him with a sigh. He could already feel himself starting to give in, but he needed to do this before anything else happened.
"Promise me."
Chekov blinked, surprised disbelief in his eyes. "That you won't hurt me?"
"That you won't let me hurt you," Scotty said firmly. "If it looks like I'm going to do anything at all to hurt you -- and I mean anything -- I need to know you're going to do your damndest to survive."
Chekov nodded solemnly. "I promise."
Scotty watched him for a long moment, taking in the light flush on Chekov's cheeks, the bright blue eyes looking so full of life and energy. The light smell of sweat and his off-duty clothes. The weight of him in his lap. The tantalizing smell of blood, warm and thick that Scotty had only gotten a taste of before. The way Chekov was licking his lips now and leaning in...
Scotty closed his eyes for a moment, and thought to himself, Fuck it.
Power surged through his arms, his legs and hips, sending both of them to the floor. There was some rolling, with Chekov trying to roll on top before Scotty pinned him to the ground and ravished his mouth. A tongue poked at his fangs, and Scotty could feel blood rushing through him from head to toe.
The black shirt's neckline shredded as Scotty tried to get at Chekov's skin, blue eyes flashing momentarily with panic before Scotty slid his hand along warm, soft skin. He moved down quickly, handfuls of shirt giving way before he nuzzled and licked at the revealed skin.
When he sucked at a nipple, the body beneath him groaned, hands finding his head, fingers rubbing through his short hair. He could feel a light dusting of chest hair against his cheek when he nuzzled at the pectoral, the heartbeat fast and hard under his ear before he growled and moved further downward.
There were arteries in the thighs, the groin. He could tease himself with their closeness before moving on to the main feast. They had time.
The fly of Chekov's trousers gave way under impossibly strong hands, revealing two very important details. First, that they weren't as durable as they'd first appeared. The second was that Chekov wasn't wearing underwear.
Chekov propped himself up on his elbows, watching with wide blue eyes as Scotty growled.
Scotty threw an arm over Chekov's hips to keep him from moving, and then buried his nose into the wiry brown curls at the base of Chekov's erection, inhaling deeply.
"Požalujsta," Chekov groaned, his fingers finding Scotty's hair again and trying to run through the buzzcut without much luck. Scotty mouthed at the skin, the scent of musk and blood filling his nose and threatening to make him dizzy. He licked at one side of Chekov's flesh, humming a little at the taste, but giving it an apologetic kiss before tearing the rest of the fabric and exposing Chekov's pale thighs.
Vaguely, in the back of his mind, he remembered paying attention to Chekov's thighs before on other occasions, learning where he was ticklish, and where he could nibble to make the younger man groan.
Part of him wanted to bite down, drink from the femoral artery, but there was always a danger. It was harder to stop bleeding when it was the thigh, and if he couldn't stop the bleeding, things would get ugly.
Fingers in his hair suddenly tightened, grabbing what little they could and pulling. Scotty bared his teeth and snarled, lifting his head up and glaring at Chekov.
Chekov was breathing deeply, his lips parted. He shook his head, and swallowed before managing, "Not there."
Scotty's eyes narrowed, irritation taking hold. "Not here?" he snarled, stroking Chekov's thigh possessively.
Chekov pressed his lips together and shook his head again. "Not there."
"Then where?" Scotty rasped, his hand sliding over to Chekov's groin, and then squeezing the base of the man's erection firmly. "Here?" he asked with a smirk.
"Do it, and I'll break your neck," Chekov warned in a low tone.
"You will?" Scotty asked, looking ghoulishly amused. Suddenly, Chekov found himself on his back, with Scotty's lips at his ear. "What if I wanted to drain you dry? Make a mess on this nice, clean carpet? Maybe I should turn you instead. You'd make a lovely vampire, all big blue eyes and unquenchable thirst."
"You won't do that," Chekov said firmly. "Any of it."
Scotty licked a wet stripe from the base of Chekov's neck back up to his ear, reveling in the shiver the movement produced. "You sound sure of that, lad."
"I am sure," Chekov growled. Just as suddenly, he shoved at Scotty's chest as hard as he could, managing to free himself just enough to wriggle out of the way.
Scotty followed, almost a blur of motion until Chekov found himself pressed against a wall, his hands held at the wrists over his head in one of Scotty's hands. "You cannae run." He leaned in, kissing at the pale neck and running his tongue over the small red puncture marks he'd made earlier.
Chekov shivered. "If you are going to bite me," he murmured, his eyes half-lidded, "bite me in bed."
"And who're you to be giving orders?" Scotty asked, his voice roughening with irritation.
"I am yours," Chekov murmured. "And you are mine."
Scotty considered this for a moment, and then knelt down quickly, throwing Chekov over one shoulder.
Chekov yelped, fighting to right himself and yelping again when Scotty ripped the seat of his trousers and swatted his backside. He cursed loudly in Russian before demanding, "Put me down!"
"First you say you want to be bit in bed, and now you're saying to put you down?" Scotty asked lightly, heading for the bedroom. One of his arms was like a steel cable wrapped around Chekov's legs, while the man's free hand was lightly groping his ass. "You really should make up your mind, lad."
"I did not mean carry me like a sack of potatoes!" Chekov snapped.
Scotty chuckled, low and dark enough to make the hairs on the back of Chekov's neck stand up. He yelped as he was tossed onto the bed, and after a bit of righting himself, he glared at Scotty.
Scotty, who was smirking and shrugging out of his shirt and tossing it to one side. His trousers and underwear came off in one motion, and soon, Scotty was crawling up the bed, his eyes focused with a laser-like intensity on Chekov's before they were nose to nose. "You're in bed now, lad," he whispered. "Anymore requests, or can I go about my work in peace?"
Chekov stared into his eyes and swallowed audibly before shaking his head.
"Good," Scotty growled, planting one hand on Chekov's chest and pushing him down. "On your back, and stay there."
Chekov bit his lower lip when he felt Scotty's lips at his collarbone. "But what if I don't want to?"
"Then you won't get bit, now, will you?" Scotty asked calmly, pushing aside the shredded remains of Chekov's shirt as he made his way down the younger man's chest, detouring to kiss and nibble at skin that proved ticklish, all the while one of his hands was driving Chekov to distraction, cradling and stroking him with maddening slowness.
Chekov's stomach muscles tensed when he felt Scotty's lips near his navel. "What did I say about biting me there?"
Red and dark blue eyes glared at him. "I'm not biting." He dropped a small kiss that could only be described as insolent on Chekov's lower abdomen. "And who said I was going to bite you here?"
"In Russian folktales, wampires are sneaky creatures," Chekov said, whimpering when he felt Scotty stroke him a few times, a thumb lightly tracing around the head. "You could be pretending you won't to surprise me."
"So, what does it say about you that you're sleeping with one?" Scotty smirked. "Get me the lube from the drawer."
Chekov's eyes narrowed. "What are you planning to do?"
Scotty growled, low and dangerous. "Do it."
Shooting his lover a look that was braver than he felt at the moment, Chekov fished out the tube of lubricant, his hand fumbling as he felt fingers teasing him and a tongue replacing the thumb at the head of his cock. "Scotty--"
Lips wrapped around him just as he found the tube, and he nearly dropped it on the floor. "Scotty--"
Scotty hummed a little around him, and Chekov found himself pinned to the bed with one arm, his hips trapped when he tried to thrust upwards.
Scotty took the tube from him, spreading some of the lubricant on his fingers before returning to tease Chekov's balls. The lips disappeared long enough for Scotty to murmur, "Hold still."
Chekov groaned. "Hold still. You do not hold still when I do this to you."
He felt a tongue swirl around him before red-and-dark-blue eyes met his gaze. "It's not my fault your lips are so pretty."
"I do not have pretty--" Chekov moaned when Scotty went back to licking and teasing him. He could feel the slippery fingers trace around his balls one last time before sliding back, teasing back and forth against him. He was pretty sure he started pleading in Russian, because Scotty was chuckling around him, causing him to moan again. There was a light scrape of teeth, causing Chekov to gasp, and then the warm mouth disappeared, the tongue replaced by a thumb as he felt a finger slip inside of him.
Chekov tried to breathe, but it felt like there wasn't any air in the room.
Scotty licked the inside of his mouth and smirked. "Yes, you do." Chekov could feel the finger inside him moving in slow circles, patiently stretching the muscle as if they had all night. "Do you know how you look right now?" he asked mildly.
Chekov shook his head slowly.
"Like temptation itself," Scotty said, watching him with those eyes. "And I don't want to fight it." He leaned down to indulge in a slow lick of Chekov's erection, smirking at the younger man's groan. His hands kept moving slowly, so damn slowly, and Chekov bit his lower lip.
"Faster," he gasped. "Please."
"Faster?" Scotty sounded amused. "And miss watching you shiver?" He pretended to think about it for a moment, looking sinister and curious at the same time. "What will you do for me if I go faster, then?"
Chekov whined, his teeth digging into his lip. "What do you want?"
"Oh," Scotty said with a chuckle, his fangs flashing as he grinned. "That's not the sort of question you ask a vampire, lad." He withdrew his finger and carefully added a second, twisting his wrist as he pushed in, forcing another groan out of the younger man.
"What can I offer--" Chekov groaned, trying his best to screw himself on Scotty's fingers and whining when Scotty wouldn't do it. "--that will make you say yes?"
Scotty ran a thumb over the head of Chekov's erection, his smile somehow fond and amused. "I'm not sure, actually. I rather like seeing you moaning like this. Begging me to get on with it."
Chekov didn't need to be told twice. "Please, Scotty," he murmured, meeting Scotty's gaze and reaching toward him with one shaking hand. "Don't tease me like this."
"But I'm enjoying myself," Scotty protested, a smile tugging at his lips. "Besides, your mouth says don't, but this--" He gave Chekov a long, slow pull, "--isn't objecting."
Chekov whimpered, the muscles in his legs tensing. "I want something bigger," he rasped. "More filling."
Scotty's eyes flashed for a moment before he smiled again. "More filling?" he asked, not sounding as innocent as he tried to look. Chekov felt the fingers disappear, and when they returned, there was a third helping to stretch him. "How's that, then?"
Chekov gritted his teeth and glared at Scotty. "Don't play games," he growled, thrusting towards the fingers, trying to take them deeper. "I am not wirgin you have to seduce."
"You certainly look like one," Scotty grinned. "Sweet. Wholesome. Innocent."
"If you do not fuck me now, I will tie you to bed and make you watch me fuck myself with dildo," Chekov snarled.
Scotty's eyes widened for a second, like a predator that had sighted its prey, and it was all the warning had before Chekov found himself pinned against the bed, his legs hooked over Scotty's shoulders as Scotty entered him. He shouted in surprise before Scotty crushed his mouth against his, and started thrusting, hard and fast.
Chekov could hear the slap of Scotty thrusting into him, skin meeting skin as he rocked back and forth. The smell of sweat, his and Scotty's intermingling filled his nose. The deep, wet kiss muted Scotty's growls but Chekov could still feel them through his lips. When Scotty pulled back, Chekov could see the familiar dark blue irises, with the small brown patch in the right one, surrounded by blood-red brilliance.
"Bloody--" Scotty grunted, burying himself to the hilt and breathing heavily.
"Are you finished already?" Chekov asked, a bit surprised.
Scotty breathed a few more times before shaking his head. His lower lip slipped between his teeth, his fangs pressing against the pale skin. "Give me... a moment." He shifted, running his fingers down Chekov's thighs appreciatively for a moment before he pulled back and thrust in, taking his time with each movement.
Chekov groaned, his head sagging back onto the pillow. "Scotty," he half-whined.
Scotty shook his head, the grin returning, but this time, it was fond and amazed and just a little crazed. "I'm fucking you now, lad. If you want something, you're going to have to be more specific."
Chekov glared up at him. "You know what I meant."
Scotty's eyes narrowed, but he didn't quicken his pace. "Do I, now?"
"You are wery frustrating," Chekov grumbled, breathing in a little sharply when one of Scotty's thrusts rubbed against his prostate.
"I know," Scotty said smugly. "Now, I believe you were going to ask me to do something?" He bit his lip again as he kept the unhurried pace, and Chekov found himself distracted by two small points of red.
He frowned. "You're bleeding."
Scotty frowned. "What?"
"You," Chekov said, reaching up with a thumb and brushing it against one of the small puncture wounds. There was a spot of blood on his thumb, which he showed to Scotty.
Scotty closed his eyes tightly, his jaw tightening as he gritted his teeth. "Don't show me, lad."
Chekov shot him a surprised look he couldn't see. "You are that hungry?"
Scotty took a deep breath before nodding twice. "I said before I was feeling a might peckish. My own blood isn't going to help, though."
Chekov hummed, sounding like he was almost thinking while Scotty thrust back and forth inside of him, and when Scotty heard a sucking sound, his eyes snapped open.
Chekov blinked, pulling the thumb out of his mouth that had wiped away Scotty's blood.
Scotty froze.
"What?" Chekov asked, looking confused.
"You just drank my blood," Scotty said, almost blankly.
Chekov blinked again, and looked down at his thumb. "So I did," he said with a frown. "Was I not supposed to?"
Scotty stared at his bright blue eyes, his full lower lip. "It won't turn you," he replied slowly.
Relief appeared in Chekov's eyes. "Ah." He reached up again with his thumb and wiped at the other puncture in Scotty's lip, catching where it had started to run down Scotty's chin. Bright blue eyes watched him curiously before Scotty could see the idea forming on Chekov's face.
Chekov brought the bloody thumb to his mouth, and licked it with one, slow swipe.
Scotty's hips snapped forward, unable to stop themselves. The deep kiss that followed was hard, messy, and Scotty could taste his own blood on Chekov's tongue. They were breathless when the kiss ended, and Chekov's eyes were at half-mast.
"Scotty--" Chekov managed before Scotty's hips snapped forward again. He grunted, throwing an arm up to brace himself against the headboard.
Scotty growled, pausing long enough to adjust his grip on Chekov's hips before setting a hard, fast pace. Chekov panted and moaned and whined as Scotty's thrusts grew wilder, and when he started pleading, first in English, and then in Russian, Scotty obliged.
Surging forward, fangs sank into the soft skin of Chekov's neck, and Chekov let out a surprisingly loud shout as he came.
Scotty drank, the sweet taste of blood filling his mouth before he forced himself to stop, pinch the wounds closed, and then licked away the evidence. There were hands in his hair, petting and rubbing and languid. He nosed at one of them gently, kissing the palm before sucking the last few traces of the blood that had made his head swim.
Chekov shivered, murmuring something incoherent, but too boneless from the orgasm to make much sense. Scotty was fairly sure what he meant to say, though.
Scotty pulled out gingerly, murmuring an apology when Chekov winced, and sank down onto the bed next to him, watching his face and chest as his eyes slowly went back to normal.
"That was..." Chekov rasped, licking his lips.
Scotty smiled, reaching over to brush Chekov's curls from where they were sticking to his forehead. "Aye."
Chekov shivered at the touch, his eyes closing as he hummed. "Is it always like that?"
Scotty nodded. "I could probably take a nip from you in a hallway and probably leave you in the same state," he replied. "Though, you'd have a time explaining why you smelled like sex when you got to the bridge."
One blue eye opened to shoot Scotty a look that was somehow both disapproving and intensely curious. "You are not going to do that," he said slowly, "are you?"
Scotty snorted. "No. That's just asking for trouble."
"Mmm," Chekov hummed. "Is good point."
Scotty watched him for a moment longer before he asked, "How're you feeling?"
If Scotty didn't know any better, he would've sworn Chekov was radiating smugness. "Like I've eaten dozens of canaries," he purred, stretching out in bed and almost smirking. "Will you do that again soon?"
Scotty frowned. "Not too soon. You might feel a bit tired for a day or two. Blood loss isn't very forgiving."
Chekov hummed and nodded. "Is probably better this way." At Scotty's curious frown, he smirked. "If we could do that everyday, I would never let you leave the bed."
Scotty snorted, leaning over to kiss Chekov's temple. "Aye, lad. If I didn't show up for my shift, there'd be more than a few people looking to serve my head on a silver platter to the Captain."
Chekov shifted gingerly on the bed with a wince before looking down at the shredded remains of his clothes that he was still miraculously wearing. "Speaking of serving your head on a silver platter..." he muttered before shooting Scotty a dark look.
Scotty cleared his throat and ducked his head. "Sorry about that. I got carried away."
Chekov plucked uselessly at the remains of his black T-shirt. "I liked this shirt."
"I'll get you a new one?" Scotty offered.
"I hope so," Chekov replied. "If you are kicking me out again, I will need new clothes."
Scotty sighed. "I'm not kicking you out. We have to be discreet, and walking out of your lover's quarters after the night shift is hardly discreet."
Chekov rolled his eyes. "I am sure the crew knows, Scotty, and more importantly, they do not care. I will be nineteen in a month, more than past legal age of consent."
"Aye, but you don't look that different from when you were seventeen," Scotty pointed out. "It can be hard remembering how old you are when you're still bouncing down the corridors like a rabbit."
"I don't bounce." Chekov frowned. He still rolled over onto his side and slid an arm around Scotty's middle, though.
Scotty grinned. "'Course you do. You look adorable when you do."
Chekov shot him a dark look. "Adorable."
"Aye," Scotty agreed, sliding closer so that he could stroke Chekov's curly hair. "Have I ever mentioned you're sexy when you're going on about physics?"
"Many times," Chekov said, smiling a little before he shifted and grimaced. "We should get cleaned up."
Scotty nodded. "Back in a mo." He disappeared into the bathroom and emerged a minute later with a damp towel, which he used to carefully clean Chekov's abdomen and backside. Chekov shivered a little when the towel touched sensitive skin, but sagged back onto the bed. When Scotty got back, he kissed Chekov's lips gently and laid back down next to him.
"How are you feeling," Chekov murmured. "Are you still hungry?"
Scotty shook his head. "I'm all right. Full. Satisfied." He smiled a little at Chekov. "Happy."
"Happy is good," Chekov agreed. He looked Scotty in the eye and said simply, "Thank you."
Scotty frowned. "For what?"
"For biting me, even if you didn't want to," Chekov explained. "Was it difficult?"
Scotty sighed and shook his head. "All too easy, actually, but it's all right. You're here, and you're all right. That's all that matters to me right now."
Chekov watched him for a minute or two before scooting close enough to kiss his cheek. "Thank you for trusting me."
"Shouldn't I be saying that to you?" Scotty asked lightly.
Chekov shook his head. "You were worried I would get swept up in the moment and not treat the threat seriously."
"You were certainly pushing it a few times, there," Scotty grumbled, kissing his forehead gently. "Trying to show you weren't scared of me, were you?"
"A bit," Chekov agreed. "I also wanted to show you that even when you were like that, you would not hurt me." He brushed a finger over Scotty's lower lip and frowned. "Your lip is healed?"
"It doesn't take all that much blood to fix a small thing like that," Scotty pointed out, kissing the digit as it stroked the chapped skin. "What, did you want to lick my blood again?"
"I might be tempted," Chekov murmured, shifting a bit where he lay and looking up at Scotty intensely. "I did not think it would get that kind of... reaction out of you."
"Drinking blood's an intimate thing with us," Scotty explained. "There used to be all sorts of theories -- we were taking in part of the person's soul when we fed on them, that sort of thing. With you drinking my blood, it's a bit different."
"In what way?" Chekov asked curiously.
"You feel a bit more energetic, don't you?" Scotty asked.
Chekov frowned for a moment, stretched, and nodded, shooting Scotty a surprised look. "The blood?"
Scotty nodded. "And since vampires have more sensitive noses--" He tapped the side of his nose in illustration. "--drinking my blood is like wearing a sign around your neck saying, 'Property of Montgomery Scott'." He smiled a bit nervously. "I would've warned you, but I wasn't expecting you to do that."
Chekov considered that for a moment. Then, he sat up to lean over Scotty, his curly hair dangling as he looked down at him.
Scotty blinked, a bit surprised at the look in Chekov's eye. "Would it help if I apologized?"
Chekov shook his head slowly, a slow smile tugging at his lips.
Scotty's eyebrows rose. "Is this something I should be apologizing for?"
Again, Chekov shook his head slowly.
"Oh," Scotty said, non-plussed. "Good... right?"
Chekov nodded.
"You're going to screw me silly now, aren't you?" Scotty asked.
Chekov grinned.
Scotty heaved a mock-sigh. "You do realize I'm an old man, don't you? I don't have the kind of stamina to keep up with you."
"You have enough," Chekov purred, leaning down to kiss Scotty slowly.
When they surfaced from the kiss, Scotty was smiling up at him. "Aye, I think I do."
END
ooo
Date: 2009-07-27 05:12 pm (UTC)soo, please to be expanding this verse?!
like, like, like with the time when Bones smells Scotty on Chekov and has a WTF Scottyyouhornybastardhypospray!moment?
or, or, or some Kirk/Vamp!Bones sexytimes (with Kirk being all like, so, vamp huh? extra stamina and muscles = difficult kama sutra positions now possible methinks?)
or additional Chekov hiding bitemarks from the bridge crew before being rumbled?
or Scotty getting all obsessive and protective over his lil blooddonor!Chekov?
IDK WTF but please to be expanding universe coz it is AWESOME :)
x
Re: ooo
Date: 2009-07-27 05:20 pm (UTC)Um, hi there! *waves in a friendly sort of fashion*
I'm really glad that you've enjoyed the series so far? Yes, there are definite plans to expand the universe, as well as introduce characters that haven't gotten airtime yet.
Unfortunately, school is kicking my ass, and we're wrapping up the summer session, so that's why there's been a delay in getting fic out. Sorry for the wait, but yes, there is more coming.
I'll also take your requests into consideration. :D
Re: ooo
Date: 2009-07-27 05:32 pm (UTC)In all seriousness I completely get the RL issues, take your time! Although I am currently unemployed... but all this applying for shizzle takes it out of a girl!
So basically, whenevs is fine by me.
(Secretly rather glad you've got some plot bunnies wandering around tho.)
I'm making a concerted effort not to just LURK when it comes to fic I like and author responses add to the bonus of warm fuzzies when I actually do get around to it.
Funtimes writing! x
Re: ooo
Date: 2009-07-27 07:01 pm (UTC)Good luck with that job search. With the economy being what it is, it's probably going to be murder. :(
As for commenting, we authors appreciate every comment that we get, whether it's construction criticism or even, "Whee! This was fun! I want more!" because it actually lets us know that someone's reading the fic we put a lot of effort into! So, thank you for your comment!