Final Exam
Title: Final Exam
Author: jaune_chat
Fandom: Star Trek (nuTrek)
Characters/Pairings: McCoy/Chekov, Kirk, Sulu
Rating: NC-17
Wordcount: 3,437
Spoilers: Movie only.
Warnings: Slash, sex-ed with Bones
Disclaimer: Star Trek sure doesn’t belong to me.
A/N: Written for random00b for Sweet Charity.
Summary: McCoy actually prefers have his boyfriend top, and to be assertive about it. Chekov says he can do that, if McCoy will teach him. Lessons ensue.
Chekov squirmed around until his head was pillowed on McCoy’s shoulder, throwing an arm and a leg over McCoy’s body to share his warmth as they reveled in the afterglow.
“I did not mean to yell at you,” Chekov said sleepily, his fingers lightly tickling McCoy’s ribs.
McCoy smothered a cough deep in his chest, and firmed his grip around Pavel. “That was… actually very all right.”
Chekov tipped his face up so McCoy could see his eyebrow raised in surprise. When McCoy had slowed down his thrusts to try to draw things out for another few minutes, Chekov, unusually impatient, had all but barked at him to move, shoving back hard. The resulting orgasm had been sharp and unexpectedly intense, and Chekov had followed him over the edge almost immediately.
“Yes, truly?” Chekov asked. McCoy nodded, stirring slightly as pleasant aftershocks tingled through him at the thought. “One more thing I learned today, then.”
“You keep track?”
“A day you learn nothing is a day wasted,” Chekov declared into McCoy’s chest.
McCoy paused and wondered if it would hurt anything to broach a question he’d been considering for months. Well, if he was lucky, it would be him. In a good way.
“Would you like to learn more?”
The sleepiness vanished from Chekov’s demeanor, and he propped himself up so he could look at McCoy squarely. “What things?”
“Suggestions,” McCoy said cautiously. The medical part of him wanted to tackle the subject head-on, while the rarely-employed more romantic side of him balked at stating things so baldly. The very loud cynical part was, as usual, going to win out as the mediator.
“Desires?” Chekov guessed accurately. “What you want, yes?” McCoy nodded; the kid was quick, and too straightforward for the verbal teasing he had endured with some past partners. “What you do, I like very much. But I am flexible.” That was said with a cat-like stretch that made McCoy struggle to hide a leer. Verbal teasing wasn’t Chekov’s thing, but physical was another matter entirely.
“You ever done this the other way around?”
Chekov stopped himself before his jaw dropped too far, and his expression turned thoughtful. “Ah, once. Things… were too good, too quickly.”
“He didn’t give you another shot?”
“No, I did not. At the time, he was a big crush.” Chekov blushed slightly. “I did not want the embarrassment twice.”
“Then he was an impatient idiot,” McCoy said with finality.
“What are you asking of me?” Chekov sounded focused and intrigued, his confidence bolstered by his boyfriend’s defense. “Just to try all the angles?”
McCoy felt himself going a little hoarse as he clarified, “More than that.”
Chekov smiled a bit at that and slid over until he was straddling McCoy. “You wish me to take charge, yes?”
“I’d like that, yeah,” McCoy said, swallowing.
“It is not something I’ve done.” Chekov’s fingers were sliding down McCoy’s arms, across his stomach, and back up his chest. “You will have to show me, yes?”
“Yes.” McCoy agreed almost instantly.
“In great detail, so I can get it right. We shall have to practice, frequently, of course.”
“Right.” Anything more than one syllable was overrated right at this moment.
“You really liked it when I told you what I wanted?”
McCoy’s body, still exhausted, valiantly tried to stir in response.
Chekov’s smile could have been seen a thousand light-years away.
--------
Lesson #1
“I think I understand. It’s been done to me many times,” Chekov pointed out.
“There’s a lot more to it when you’re the one doing it,” McCoy said firmly. “Prep is not something you want to skimp on, and doing it wrong can be damn painful.”
“I did look up the essential anatomy in the Starfleet database,” Chekov said, looking far too studious for someone who was naked and surrounded by a half-dozen bottles and tubes of lubricant.
McCoy did not laugh, though Chekov’s earnestness was very endearing. Of course he’d looked it up.
“Well now you’re getting a guided tour.” McCoy picked up one of the bottles and put it in Chekov’s hand. “That’s my personal favorite.”
Chekov looked very focused and serious as he concentrated on squeezing the exact, optimal amount on his fingers.
Grinning, McCoy turned himself over, and felt Pavel’s clean hand against his flank, tickling lightly in appreciation.
Then McCoy remembered a few of the more practical considerations with a less experienced partner as something freezing trickled down his ass.
McCoy hissed. “Pavel, warm it up first! It’s damn cold right out of the bottle.”
“Sorry! Sorry,” Pavel said instantly, and rubbed a bit to warm up the lubricant.
“Now go slow at first, just a little bit at a time…” McCoy said through clenched teeth. Pavel pushed in a single finger, slowly, twisting it gently as McCoy had done to him at first.
“But you do not go as slow with me, Len.”
“I haven’t done this for ten years!”
“Ah, so I am in virgin territory, yes?”
“Don’t push me, Pavel- ah!”
Pavel had been working his way in with steady persistence for the past few moments, his long, narrow finger feeling unexpectedly good…
“Len? Is that the spot?”
McCoy felt himself going cross-eyed as Pavel’s slow exploration inside his body became focused on a single, spongy knot of flesh that was making him shake and sweat.
“Yesssss…” he managed.
“First try!”
“Don’t be so damn proud of yourself- ngh!” McCoy almost swallowed his own tongue as Chekov gently slid his fingers over his prostate several more times.
“Good, yes?”
“Yes, damn it!”
“And what’s the second lesson?” Pavel asked, beginning to pull his hand away.
“Finishing what you started!” McCoy snapped.
“Ah!”
With studious care, Pavel made certain he passed his first test with flying colors.
--------
Lesson #2
McCoy couldn’t see it, but he could tell that Pavel was blushing to the roots of his hair.
“I’m sorry Len! It was just, you felt so good and…” Pavel trailed off and pulled away, pulling his knees together to hide his over-eager and spent member.
“Damn it, Pavel, it’s your first try! Give yourself a break,” McCoy said, body still primed from Chekov’s first real attempt. He pulled Chekov close and put his hand on the evidence of McCoy’s arousal. “You’re doing things right, trust me. You just need practice.”
The blush faded a bit, and Chekov brought his head up in determination.
“Give me a few moments, and I can try again!”
--------
Lesson #3
McCoy braced himself as Chekov raced to completion, groaning at the heat as Chekov came inside him. Almost immediately, Chekov collapsed over McCoy’s back, breathing hard at the effort of holding back to so long.
“Pavel? Pavel, don’t leave me hanging here,” McCoy said, squirming slightly, his erection heavy and aching for relief.
Making an embarrassed noise, Chekov reached around and took McCoy in hand, trying to make his strokes match their combined thrusts of a moment ago.
“Sorry! Sorry, Len.”
“Don’t,” McCoy said, words choppy and ragged as Chekov pushed him to the brink, “apologize. Ever.”
If McCoy had been with any other older or more experienced man, Kirk, Pike, hell, even Spock, he wouldn’t have had to deal with the awkwardness of lessons. They would have had to make some minor adjustments to each other, but the skill set would have been there. It would have been easy.
But then he wouldn’t get to feel Chekov’s hands on him, learning him like a star chart, exploring every territory he had to offer, and then finding exciting new ways to get there. That was something he couldn’t get from experience. That only came from Pavel.
--------
“Bones! You doing all right?” Kirk dropped down at McCoy’s table, all smiles and swaggers. Apparently shore leave had been productive. He made a note to get Jim into sickbay to check him over for anything new and exciting he might have picked up.
“Fine,” McCoy said tersely.
“I haven’t seen much of you lately.” Kirk’s question was innocent, but his expression invited confidence. He kept the crew in line through a combination of charisma, confidence, pure genius, and knowing every damn piece of gossip ever spoken within the walls of the Enterprise.
“I’ve been busy. Medical research.”
“You and Chekov? Is that what they’re calling it these days?”
McCoy got up from the table and walked straight out of the mess hall. Which, he realized three seconds later, just confirmed every one of Jim’s suspicions. Damn.
---------
Lesson #4
“The first time, it was an accident. I got impatient,” Chekov said, furrowing his brow in intense concentration. “I… have never been so specific before.”
“Don’t try to be Spock,” McCoy said quickly. “Just tell me what you want.”
“But what about what you want?” Chekov asked. “I have been learning what you like…”
“And going above and beyond the call of duty. Any more of what I like and I’m going to be resorting to my own hypos to keep from collapsing of sexual exhaustion.”
Chekov’s grin was a thing of beauty.
“Let me know what you want. Tell me what you need me to do. That’s what I want.”
Chekov pondered that question carefully. “I am a very junior officer,” he said slowly.
“I know you don’t have command experience, Pavel. I’m not worried about it.”
“Ah,” Chekov said. “Do you… want me to be impatient? Or, um, mean?”
“There’s no whips or chains under my bed, if that’s what you’re asking,” McCoy said with amusment.
Chekov looked almost faint with relief.
“You said not like the Commander. What about the Captain?”
McCoy looked horrified, and Chekov was able to maintain his serious demeanor for another five seconds before he cracked. “Your face, Len!”
“We are not bringing Jim Kirk into the bedroom, not even theoretically!” McCoy nearly sputtered.
“Then I shall have to observe to find the best way to command. Something you will like, yes?”
“You don’t have to do this any way but how you want to.”
“I am a very quick learner, but I must have someplace to start-.” Chekov stopped himself and looked thoughtful. “I think I have it. Give me a few days, Len, and I think I will surprise you.”
-----
McCoy tended to be focused when he worked. Very focused. Yes, he could triage a chaotic situation, and yes he could keep track of multiple patients at once, but beyond them, the world might as well not exist. Which was why he hadn’t noticed that Pavel had stuck himself in a quiet corner of sickbay until there had been a fairly significant lull.
“Ensign, did you need something?” McCoy asked, only a touch less gruff than his usual tone. The rest of his staff suddenly became very absorbed in whatever tests or treatments they were doing.
“No, Doctor. I was merely observing for future reference,” Chekov said, tapping in something on his padd.
“Observing what?” McCoy demanded.
“Your professional demeanor.”
McCoy took the padd from Chekov, read a half-dozen lines, and shoved it back in his hands.
“Carry on.”
The ingenious little bastard was actually taking notes.
------
“What’s going on with you and Pavel?”
McCoy clenched his jaw as Sulu sat down at his table in the mess hall. He should have eaten in his office, even if it wasn’t terribly hygienic. Having Pavel haunting sickbay, giving him subtle glances in between patients, was making McCoy too distracted to avoid the rest of the too-curious crew.
“The usual,” McCoy said calmly, not wanting to add more fuel to the gossip fires.
“You know, he actually came and observed three of my self-defense classes the other day. Pavel, observing self-defense. You know anything about that? When I tried to talk to him, he said he was doing research. And when I asked about what, he almost said your name and then made a quick escape,” Sulu said.
McCoy prided himself on being able to handle any number of bad situations with grace under pressure. But even he couldn’t stop the very faint blush from reddening his cheeks.
“You’re kidding me,” Sulu said, eyes widening. “The captain said something, but I thought he was just pulling my leg.”
“You can tell Jim Kirk his next appointment is going to be early and extra uncomfortable,” McCoy snapped.
“But… Pavel? If Pavel’s… You? I thought you didn’t…” Sulu drifted to a halt, not sure how to finish his statement.
Normally McCoy would have just let Sulu (and by extension the rest of the crew, especially Kirk) hang for information. But some of Pavel’s enthusiasm and mischief had apparently rubbed off on him; he wanted to see the expression on Sulu’s face.
“You thought I didn’t catch?” McCoy asked casually.
Sulu made a sharp nod of disbelief. “Pavel!” he stated, begging for more of an explanation.
McCoy was feeling generous enough to give it to him. “Pavel was made an officer on the fleet flagship when he was seventeen. In the three years he’s been on this ship, he’s constantly out-thought everyone on board. He’s a certifiable genius; you don’t think he’s teachable?”
“Oh.” Sulu suddenly got it, eyes widening. “Are you sure you know what you’re getting yourself into?”
McCoy didn’t dignify that with an answer.
------
Final Exam
“Len.”
McCoy froze as his cabin door shut behind him. Shivers chased each other down his spine when Chekov stepped from the bathroom, looking damp and freshly scrubbed. He was only wearing the black undershirt and briefs from his uniform, clinging material designed more for comfort than style. Chekov should have looked vulnerable, half-naked. Something about the smile on his face made him seem entirely the opposite.
“You’re late,” Chekov continued. “I’ve been waiting.”
“Traffic,” McCoy said blandly, trying to cover a pleasurable roil in his gut.
Chekov shook his head. “This is not true. You all but ran home tonight, hoping I’d be here. It is lucky for you that I asked for this shift off.”
“Why’s that?” McCoy felt his mouth going dry and swallowed.
“Because I’ve wanted to fuck you all day.”
As a doctor, Leonard McCoy knew that depriving organs of blood was a bad thing. However, his brain would just have to do without for a while, because thought was unnecessary and his cock needed the blood instead. Watching Chekov standing there with his arms over his chest, bare-footed, tossing his curls back while obscenities dropped off his tongue overrode all medical training. Dear God, when Pavel set out to learn something, he did not go halfway.
“Pavel… yes,” he said hoarsely.
Chekov smiled slightly and made an imperious gesture. “I want to see you, Len.”
McCoy hadn’t gotten naked so fast since he was sixteen.
Chekov took a few steps closer, reaching up to put one hand on the center of McCoy’s chest, flexing his fingers to scratch lightly. This close, he had to look up into McCoy’s face, his skin milky-pale in comparison to McCoy’s. Chekov had filled out slightly in the three years they’d known each other, but he was still one of the smallest men on the ship.
“I like this,” Chekov said, his hands beginning to wander over McCoy’s body. “I like how big you are. Solid.” He squeezed McCoy’s shoulders and trailed down his arms to his hands. “Clever. Miracle-worker. Half the ship owes you life or limb. There’s so much power here,” Chekov gripped McCoy’s hands, “as well as here.” He ran his hands back up McCoy’s shoulders, spanning their girth, and then rushed down his sides to grip at his hips, his thumbs caressing the hollows, inches away from where McCoy’s erection was heavy, full, and twitching.
“There is so much here,” Chekov murmured, leaning forward to place a kiss on McCoy’s chest. “And all of it is mine.” He pulled with his hands, jerking their groins together, drawing a groan out of both of them as McCoy’s cock came into contact with Chekov’s silk-covered erection, hot beneath the cool fabric.
“Yes…” McCoy let himself be moved, hips shifting and bumping with maddeningly light friction.
“Len, on your knees, on the bed,” Chekov said firmly, loosening his grip on McCoy’s hips, but not stopping his gentle grinding. Making an inarticulate noise in the back of his throat, McCoy pulled away and knelt on his own bed, bent forward, elbows resting on the mattress. He could feel the heat from Chekov’s body when he climbed onto the bed, lingering close but not touching.
“Len, if you do this willingly, how will you stop me from making more demands on you every night?” Chekov asked. McCoy almost jumped when Chekov’s clever fingers began to grope and massage at his ass, pulling him apart and leaving him open and vulnerable. The bare edge of a thumb, slightly slick, teased around the rim, and McCoy clenched on the invader hopefully.
The smack on the side of his ass took him completely by surprise.
“No! I am nowhere near done here. You will wait!” Chekov said firmly.
“Christ,” McCoy breathed, consciously relaxing and loosening his body. This worked. This very much worked.
That feeling jumped tenfold in the next second when Chekov's slick fingers began to tease and torment him, sliding around the rim of his ass and then in, shallow penetration one after the other, or a deeper slide with a single finger, but never for very long. McCoy felt himself rocking back, trying to get more penetration, and Chekov warned him to stillness with another light smack.
“I was so impatient that one time,” Chekov said, his fingers beginning to push in two at a time. “I wished all of you, fast and hard and ready to drive me to collapse. But you thought you knew what was best, yes?” McCoy actually bit the comforter as Chekov hooked his fingers in deep, tapping at his prostate and making him see stars.
“Len, did you forget I have the fastest type-command speed in Starfleet? My fingers have eyes.”
McCoy did manage to say something into the bed which may have been a very muffled but emphatic protest that no, he had not forgotten, and he’d die a happy man if Pavel just wouldn’t stop doing what he was doing forever.
And just like that, Pavel’s hand was gone.
“Breathe, Len.”
And then he was back, his cock sliding deep and fast into McCoy’s body, sparing him nothing, and giving him everything, splitting him open beautifully. McCoy scrabbled for purchase as Pavel picked up the pace, driving him deep and down into the bed, his angle damn-near perfect.
“Len, move! I want you, now!” Chekov cried, his hands closing in on McCoy’s hips.
Calling on every deity he’d ever heard of and a few he made up on the spot, McCoy pushed back, urged by Pavel’s hands. Then the angle was absolutely perfect.
“Stars save me,” Pavel gasped, and one hand came free from McCoy’s hip to slide down to his flushed erection. His slick fingers grasped and tugged, driving McCoy’s cock through his grip in pace with their thrusts. Pavel cried out against the skin of McCoy’s back as his cock swelled and spent itself deep in his lover’s body. His clever fingers never stopped moving, and McCoy followed him over the edge in the next minute, his limbs trembling from the intensity of the orgasm.
He had to collapse, taking Pavel with him, not bothered by his weight as they both lay there to regain their strength. Pavel, predictably, found his voice first.
“You liked?” While there was a bare hint of boyish uncertainty in his tone, most of it was lazy with confident self-satisfaction.
McCoy shifted himself very carefully, so that Pavel’s other hand, still trapped under him, could feel the spattered and sticky evidence of his “like.”
“You better not have been joking,” McCoy growled in response.
“About doing this every night?” Pavel’s question was about as far from innocent as he could get. “Len, I would never lie to you.”
“I sure as hell can’t stop you.” And by can’t, McCoy meant, “why would I want to?”
“Well, I’m sure you have already figured out, Len, when I learn something, I must learn all there is to know about it. We have many more lessons together, you and I. Many, many more…” Pavel kissed right between McCoy’s shoulder blades, and to his mild astonishment, McCoy could feel Pavel begin to harden again inside him. “Starting now.”
Leonard McCoy reached a hand back to grasp at Pavel’s briefly, a wordless thanks, and then reached down to hang on for dear life.
Author: jaune_chat
Fandom: Star Trek (nuTrek)
Characters/Pairings: McCoy/Chekov, Kirk, Sulu
Rating: NC-17
Wordcount: 3,437
Spoilers: Movie only.
Warnings: Slash, sex-ed with Bones
Disclaimer: Star Trek sure doesn’t belong to me.
A/N: Written for random00b for Sweet Charity.
Summary: McCoy actually prefers have his boyfriend top, and to be assertive about it. Chekov says he can do that, if McCoy will teach him. Lessons ensue.
Chekov squirmed around until his head was pillowed on McCoy’s shoulder, throwing an arm and a leg over McCoy’s body to share his warmth as they reveled in the afterglow.
“I did not mean to yell at you,” Chekov said sleepily, his fingers lightly tickling McCoy’s ribs.
McCoy smothered a cough deep in his chest, and firmed his grip around Pavel. “That was… actually very all right.”
Chekov tipped his face up so McCoy could see his eyebrow raised in surprise. When McCoy had slowed down his thrusts to try to draw things out for another few minutes, Chekov, unusually impatient, had all but barked at him to move, shoving back hard. The resulting orgasm had been sharp and unexpectedly intense, and Chekov had followed him over the edge almost immediately.
“Yes, truly?” Chekov asked. McCoy nodded, stirring slightly as pleasant aftershocks tingled through him at the thought. “One more thing I learned today, then.”
“You keep track?”
“A day you learn nothing is a day wasted,” Chekov declared into McCoy’s chest.
McCoy paused and wondered if it would hurt anything to broach a question he’d been considering for months. Well, if he was lucky, it would be him. In a good way.
“Would you like to learn more?”
The sleepiness vanished from Chekov’s demeanor, and he propped himself up so he could look at McCoy squarely. “What things?”
“Suggestions,” McCoy said cautiously. The medical part of him wanted to tackle the subject head-on, while the rarely-employed more romantic side of him balked at stating things so baldly. The very loud cynical part was, as usual, going to win out as the mediator.
“Desires?” Chekov guessed accurately. “What you want, yes?” McCoy nodded; the kid was quick, and too straightforward for the verbal teasing he had endured with some past partners. “What you do, I like very much. But I am flexible.” That was said with a cat-like stretch that made McCoy struggle to hide a leer. Verbal teasing wasn’t Chekov’s thing, but physical was another matter entirely.
“You ever done this the other way around?”
Chekov stopped himself before his jaw dropped too far, and his expression turned thoughtful. “Ah, once. Things… were too good, too quickly.”
“He didn’t give you another shot?”
“No, I did not. At the time, he was a big crush.” Chekov blushed slightly. “I did not want the embarrassment twice.”
“Then he was an impatient idiot,” McCoy said with finality.
“What are you asking of me?” Chekov sounded focused and intrigued, his confidence bolstered by his boyfriend’s defense. “Just to try all the angles?”
McCoy felt himself going a little hoarse as he clarified, “More than that.”
Chekov smiled a bit at that and slid over until he was straddling McCoy. “You wish me to take charge, yes?”
“I’d like that, yeah,” McCoy said, swallowing.
“It is not something I’ve done.” Chekov’s fingers were sliding down McCoy’s arms, across his stomach, and back up his chest. “You will have to show me, yes?”
“Yes.” McCoy agreed almost instantly.
“In great detail, so I can get it right. We shall have to practice, frequently, of course.”
“Right.” Anything more than one syllable was overrated right at this moment.
“You really liked it when I told you what I wanted?”
McCoy’s body, still exhausted, valiantly tried to stir in response.
Chekov’s smile could have been seen a thousand light-years away.
--------
Lesson #1
“I think I understand. It’s been done to me many times,” Chekov pointed out.
“There’s a lot more to it when you’re the one doing it,” McCoy said firmly. “Prep is not something you want to skimp on, and doing it wrong can be damn painful.”
“I did look up the essential anatomy in the Starfleet database,” Chekov said, looking far too studious for someone who was naked and surrounded by a half-dozen bottles and tubes of lubricant.
McCoy did not laugh, though Chekov’s earnestness was very endearing. Of course he’d looked it up.
“Well now you’re getting a guided tour.” McCoy picked up one of the bottles and put it in Chekov’s hand. “That’s my personal favorite.”
Chekov looked very focused and serious as he concentrated on squeezing the exact, optimal amount on his fingers.
Grinning, McCoy turned himself over, and felt Pavel’s clean hand against his flank, tickling lightly in appreciation.
Then McCoy remembered a few of the more practical considerations with a less experienced partner as something freezing trickled down his ass.
McCoy hissed. “Pavel, warm it up first! It’s damn cold right out of the bottle.”
“Sorry! Sorry,” Pavel said instantly, and rubbed a bit to warm up the lubricant.
“Now go slow at first, just a little bit at a time…” McCoy said through clenched teeth. Pavel pushed in a single finger, slowly, twisting it gently as McCoy had done to him at first.
“But you do not go as slow with me, Len.”
“I haven’t done this for ten years!”
“Ah, so I am in virgin territory, yes?”
“Don’t push me, Pavel- ah!”
Pavel had been working his way in with steady persistence for the past few moments, his long, narrow finger feeling unexpectedly good…
“Len? Is that the spot?”
McCoy felt himself going cross-eyed as Pavel’s slow exploration inside his body became focused on a single, spongy knot of flesh that was making him shake and sweat.
“Yesssss…” he managed.
“First try!”
“Don’t be so damn proud of yourself- ngh!” McCoy almost swallowed his own tongue as Chekov gently slid his fingers over his prostate several more times.
“Good, yes?”
“Yes, damn it!”
“And what’s the second lesson?” Pavel asked, beginning to pull his hand away.
“Finishing what you started!” McCoy snapped.
“Ah!”
With studious care, Pavel made certain he passed his first test with flying colors.
--------
Lesson #2
McCoy couldn’t see it, but he could tell that Pavel was blushing to the roots of his hair.
“I’m sorry Len! It was just, you felt so good and…” Pavel trailed off and pulled away, pulling his knees together to hide his over-eager and spent member.
“Damn it, Pavel, it’s your first try! Give yourself a break,” McCoy said, body still primed from Chekov’s first real attempt. He pulled Chekov close and put his hand on the evidence of McCoy’s arousal. “You’re doing things right, trust me. You just need practice.”
The blush faded a bit, and Chekov brought his head up in determination.
“Give me a few moments, and I can try again!”
--------
Lesson #3
McCoy braced himself as Chekov raced to completion, groaning at the heat as Chekov came inside him. Almost immediately, Chekov collapsed over McCoy’s back, breathing hard at the effort of holding back to so long.
“Pavel? Pavel, don’t leave me hanging here,” McCoy said, squirming slightly, his erection heavy and aching for relief.
Making an embarrassed noise, Chekov reached around and took McCoy in hand, trying to make his strokes match their combined thrusts of a moment ago.
“Sorry! Sorry, Len.”
“Don’t,” McCoy said, words choppy and ragged as Chekov pushed him to the brink, “apologize. Ever.”
If McCoy had been with any other older or more experienced man, Kirk, Pike, hell, even Spock, he wouldn’t have had to deal with the awkwardness of lessons. They would have had to make some minor adjustments to each other, but the skill set would have been there. It would have been easy.
But then he wouldn’t get to feel Chekov’s hands on him, learning him like a star chart, exploring every territory he had to offer, and then finding exciting new ways to get there. That was something he couldn’t get from experience. That only came from Pavel.
--------
“Bones! You doing all right?” Kirk dropped down at McCoy’s table, all smiles and swaggers. Apparently shore leave had been productive. He made a note to get Jim into sickbay to check him over for anything new and exciting he might have picked up.
“Fine,” McCoy said tersely.
“I haven’t seen much of you lately.” Kirk’s question was innocent, but his expression invited confidence. He kept the crew in line through a combination of charisma, confidence, pure genius, and knowing every damn piece of gossip ever spoken within the walls of the Enterprise.
“I’ve been busy. Medical research.”
“You and Chekov? Is that what they’re calling it these days?”
McCoy got up from the table and walked straight out of the mess hall. Which, he realized three seconds later, just confirmed every one of Jim’s suspicions. Damn.
---------
Lesson #4
“The first time, it was an accident. I got impatient,” Chekov said, furrowing his brow in intense concentration. “I… have never been so specific before.”
“Don’t try to be Spock,” McCoy said quickly. “Just tell me what you want.”
“But what about what you want?” Chekov asked. “I have been learning what you like…”
“And going above and beyond the call of duty. Any more of what I like and I’m going to be resorting to my own hypos to keep from collapsing of sexual exhaustion.”
Chekov’s grin was a thing of beauty.
“Let me know what you want. Tell me what you need me to do. That’s what I want.”
Chekov pondered that question carefully. “I am a very junior officer,” he said slowly.
“I know you don’t have command experience, Pavel. I’m not worried about it.”
“Ah,” Chekov said. “Do you… want me to be impatient? Or, um, mean?”
“There’s no whips or chains under my bed, if that’s what you’re asking,” McCoy said with amusment.
Chekov looked almost faint with relief.
“You said not like the Commander. What about the Captain?”
McCoy looked horrified, and Chekov was able to maintain his serious demeanor for another five seconds before he cracked. “Your face, Len!”
“We are not bringing Jim Kirk into the bedroom, not even theoretically!” McCoy nearly sputtered.
“Then I shall have to observe to find the best way to command. Something you will like, yes?”
“You don’t have to do this any way but how you want to.”
“I am a very quick learner, but I must have someplace to start-.” Chekov stopped himself and looked thoughtful. “I think I have it. Give me a few days, Len, and I think I will surprise you.”
-----
McCoy tended to be focused when he worked. Very focused. Yes, he could triage a chaotic situation, and yes he could keep track of multiple patients at once, but beyond them, the world might as well not exist. Which was why he hadn’t noticed that Pavel had stuck himself in a quiet corner of sickbay until there had been a fairly significant lull.
“Ensign, did you need something?” McCoy asked, only a touch less gruff than his usual tone. The rest of his staff suddenly became very absorbed in whatever tests or treatments they were doing.
“No, Doctor. I was merely observing for future reference,” Chekov said, tapping in something on his padd.
“Observing what?” McCoy demanded.
“Your professional demeanor.”
McCoy took the padd from Chekov, read a half-dozen lines, and shoved it back in his hands.
“Carry on.”
The ingenious little bastard was actually taking notes.
------
“What’s going on with you and Pavel?”
McCoy clenched his jaw as Sulu sat down at his table in the mess hall. He should have eaten in his office, even if it wasn’t terribly hygienic. Having Pavel haunting sickbay, giving him subtle glances in between patients, was making McCoy too distracted to avoid the rest of the too-curious crew.
“The usual,” McCoy said calmly, not wanting to add more fuel to the gossip fires.
“You know, he actually came and observed three of my self-defense classes the other day. Pavel, observing self-defense. You know anything about that? When I tried to talk to him, he said he was doing research. And when I asked about what, he almost said your name and then made a quick escape,” Sulu said.
McCoy prided himself on being able to handle any number of bad situations with grace under pressure. But even he couldn’t stop the very faint blush from reddening his cheeks.
“You’re kidding me,” Sulu said, eyes widening. “The captain said something, but I thought he was just pulling my leg.”
“You can tell Jim Kirk his next appointment is going to be early and extra uncomfortable,” McCoy snapped.
“But… Pavel? If Pavel’s… You? I thought you didn’t…” Sulu drifted to a halt, not sure how to finish his statement.
Normally McCoy would have just let Sulu (and by extension the rest of the crew, especially Kirk) hang for information. But some of Pavel’s enthusiasm and mischief had apparently rubbed off on him; he wanted to see the expression on Sulu’s face.
“You thought I didn’t catch?” McCoy asked casually.
Sulu made a sharp nod of disbelief. “Pavel!” he stated, begging for more of an explanation.
McCoy was feeling generous enough to give it to him. “Pavel was made an officer on the fleet flagship when he was seventeen. In the three years he’s been on this ship, he’s constantly out-thought everyone on board. He’s a certifiable genius; you don’t think he’s teachable?”
“Oh.” Sulu suddenly got it, eyes widening. “Are you sure you know what you’re getting yourself into?”
McCoy didn’t dignify that with an answer.
------
Final Exam
“Len.”
McCoy froze as his cabin door shut behind him. Shivers chased each other down his spine when Chekov stepped from the bathroom, looking damp and freshly scrubbed. He was only wearing the black undershirt and briefs from his uniform, clinging material designed more for comfort than style. Chekov should have looked vulnerable, half-naked. Something about the smile on his face made him seem entirely the opposite.
“You’re late,” Chekov continued. “I’ve been waiting.”
“Traffic,” McCoy said blandly, trying to cover a pleasurable roil in his gut.
Chekov shook his head. “This is not true. You all but ran home tonight, hoping I’d be here. It is lucky for you that I asked for this shift off.”
“Why’s that?” McCoy felt his mouth going dry and swallowed.
“Because I’ve wanted to fuck you all day.”
As a doctor, Leonard McCoy knew that depriving organs of blood was a bad thing. However, his brain would just have to do without for a while, because thought was unnecessary and his cock needed the blood instead. Watching Chekov standing there with his arms over his chest, bare-footed, tossing his curls back while obscenities dropped off his tongue overrode all medical training. Dear God, when Pavel set out to learn something, he did not go halfway.
“Pavel… yes,” he said hoarsely.
Chekov smiled slightly and made an imperious gesture. “I want to see you, Len.”
McCoy hadn’t gotten naked so fast since he was sixteen.
Chekov took a few steps closer, reaching up to put one hand on the center of McCoy’s chest, flexing his fingers to scratch lightly. This close, he had to look up into McCoy’s face, his skin milky-pale in comparison to McCoy’s. Chekov had filled out slightly in the three years they’d known each other, but he was still one of the smallest men on the ship.
“I like this,” Chekov said, his hands beginning to wander over McCoy’s body. “I like how big you are. Solid.” He squeezed McCoy’s shoulders and trailed down his arms to his hands. “Clever. Miracle-worker. Half the ship owes you life or limb. There’s so much power here,” Chekov gripped McCoy’s hands, “as well as here.” He ran his hands back up McCoy’s shoulders, spanning their girth, and then rushed down his sides to grip at his hips, his thumbs caressing the hollows, inches away from where McCoy’s erection was heavy, full, and twitching.
“There is so much here,” Chekov murmured, leaning forward to place a kiss on McCoy’s chest. “And all of it is mine.” He pulled with his hands, jerking their groins together, drawing a groan out of both of them as McCoy’s cock came into contact with Chekov’s silk-covered erection, hot beneath the cool fabric.
“Yes…” McCoy let himself be moved, hips shifting and bumping with maddeningly light friction.
“Len, on your knees, on the bed,” Chekov said firmly, loosening his grip on McCoy’s hips, but not stopping his gentle grinding. Making an inarticulate noise in the back of his throat, McCoy pulled away and knelt on his own bed, bent forward, elbows resting on the mattress. He could feel the heat from Chekov’s body when he climbed onto the bed, lingering close but not touching.
“Len, if you do this willingly, how will you stop me from making more demands on you every night?” Chekov asked. McCoy almost jumped when Chekov’s clever fingers began to grope and massage at his ass, pulling him apart and leaving him open and vulnerable. The bare edge of a thumb, slightly slick, teased around the rim, and McCoy clenched on the invader hopefully.
The smack on the side of his ass took him completely by surprise.
“No! I am nowhere near done here. You will wait!” Chekov said firmly.
“Christ,” McCoy breathed, consciously relaxing and loosening his body. This worked. This very much worked.
That feeling jumped tenfold in the next second when Chekov's slick fingers began to tease and torment him, sliding around the rim of his ass and then in, shallow penetration one after the other, or a deeper slide with a single finger, but never for very long. McCoy felt himself rocking back, trying to get more penetration, and Chekov warned him to stillness with another light smack.
“I was so impatient that one time,” Chekov said, his fingers beginning to push in two at a time. “I wished all of you, fast and hard and ready to drive me to collapse. But you thought you knew what was best, yes?” McCoy actually bit the comforter as Chekov hooked his fingers in deep, tapping at his prostate and making him see stars.
“Len, did you forget I have the fastest type-command speed in Starfleet? My fingers have eyes.”
McCoy did manage to say something into the bed which may have been a very muffled but emphatic protest that no, he had not forgotten, and he’d die a happy man if Pavel just wouldn’t stop doing what he was doing forever.
And just like that, Pavel’s hand was gone.
“Breathe, Len.”
And then he was back, his cock sliding deep and fast into McCoy’s body, sparing him nothing, and giving him everything, splitting him open beautifully. McCoy scrabbled for purchase as Pavel picked up the pace, driving him deep and down into the bed, his angle damn-near perfect.
“Len, move! I want you, now!” Chekov cried, his hands closing in on McCoy’s hips.
Calling on every deity he’d ever heard of and a few he made up on the spot, McCoy pushed back, urged by Pavel’s hands. Then the angle was absolutely perfect.
“Stars save me,” Pavel gasped, and one hand came free from McCoy’s hip to slide down to his flushed erection. His slick fingers grasped and tugged, driving McCoy’s cock through his grip in pace with their thrusts. Pavel cried out against the skin of McCoy’s back as his cock swelled and spent itself deep in his lover’s body. His clever fingers never stopped moving, and McCoy followed him over the edge in the next minute, his limbs trembling from the intensity of the orgasm.
He had to collapse, taking Pavel with him, not bothered by his weight as they both lay there to regain their strength. Pavel, predictably, found his voice first.
“You liked?” While there was a bare hint of boyish uncertainty in his tone, most of it was lazy with confident self-satisfaction.
McCoy shifted himself very carefully, so that Pavel’s other hand, still trapped under him, could feel the spattered and sticky evidence of his “like.”
“You better not have been joking,” McCoy growled in response.
“About doing this every night?” Pavel’s question was about as far from innocent as he could get. “Len, I would never lie to you.”
“I sure as hell can’t stop you.” And by can’t, McCoy meant, “why would I want to?”
“Well, I’m sure you have already figured out, Len, when I learn something, I must learn all there is to know about it. We have many more lessons together, you and I. Many, many more…” Pavel kissed right between McCoy’s shoulder blades, and to his mild astonishment, McCoy could feel Pavel begin to harden again inside him. “Starting now.”
Leonard McCoy reached a hand back to grasp at Pavel’s briefly, a wordless thanks, and then reached down to hang on for dear life.