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It's Not Big a Deal

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Scotty was wasted. Which isn't to say he was acting much different than usual. But this time was different. Carol could tell from the moment she walked into the rec room. She'd gone there to unwind a little after a grueling shift, and spotted Scotty hunched over the bar in the back, babbling sarcastically to no one in particular.

Carol joined him out of sympathy, noting a radius of nervous talking around him.

Michael was volunteering as bar tender that night. He was the most laid back of all the PHD Chemists on the ship, usually at odds with Dr. McCoy in the Biology Lab. Michael gave Scotty a wide birth to chat with Carol, and looked slightly disappointed when she ordered a whisky sour and nothing else. He poured her her drink then sat back down with a group of scientists around a nearby 3D chess table.

Carol didn't mean to be rude, but she was distracted.

Finally, Scotty noticed he had company. "Weel, if it isnae th' bonnie Ms. Marcus." He slurred, finding his balance enough to turn towards her, "Havnae come 'ere tae gie picked up by onie handsome Scotsmen noo, hae ye?"

"Afraid not." Carol smiled.

Scotty reciprocated, chuckling to himself, "Shame." He downed a shot and made a face, then took a deep breath, summoning his cognizance to shout, "Oy, Michael!" He held the tiny glass up like a bell, "Whit diz a bloke hae tae dae tae gie anither roon? ...Cuz ah will dae it."

Round? Carol thought. She noticed a line of shot glasses hidden by beer bottles.

"Nae as guid as th' mince Ah hae doon in engineerin'," He said to her, "Bit Ah seem tae hae finished aw 'at aff." He raised his eyebrows haughtily.

Oh. Carol wondered if this had anything to do with the Captain's decision to postpone landing at the next supply port for another week. They were well within range, but the science team needed more time on Neptro 6.

Michael had poured him one shot before Scotty intervened, "That's enough bairn, I'll tak' it frae 'ere." He shooed him away comically from the bottle. Michael suddenly looked like an ensign again, walking away awkwardly. Carol sighed, sipping her drink as Scotty took another shot and immediately refilled the glass, "Whit was Ah sayin'? Och reit, sae Ah've decided it cannae hurt tae stairt workin' oan th' public supply. Since we hae sic' a surplus." He gestured sarcastically.

"Hmm." Carol hummed, unconvinced, "Yes, I'd heard of your home away from home when I started in Technologies." She had always amused herself thinking of Scotty hording stuff away like a stressed but happy ferret.

Scotty smiled in pride, his boyish glow returning, "Weel, that's jist a perk o' th' job. Bit if yoo'd lyke, Ay kin let ye in oan it." He winked.

Carol tilted her head smartly, "You're quite the charmer. Tell me, did Ensign Chekov get to hide out there last year?"

Scotty went pale, looking like he'd had one too many drinks again, "Whit...! He better nae hae..."

Carol felt it again. Like something was wrong. Something different, "How is Mr. Chekov?"

Scotty downed another two shots, "Braw. Braw. He's guid. Ah dunnae kinn whit ur ye askin' me fur?" He said, repositioning himself. But that last shot went to his head too fast and he nearly fell off his chair.

Carol caught him, along with every glance in the room, "Okay, come on now, I think you've had enough."

Michael noticed too and had risen to help.

"Nah, a'm braw, a'm braw!" He shoved Michael away. Not Carol though, he leaned on her heavily, "Ah dinnae need a'body's hulp, ye nerdy brute." He said, eying his blue shirt stubbornly.

Carol huffed, shoving him onto his feet. Scotty swayed, then put his arm around Carol, "A'richt, a'richt." He gave in, taking one last swig from the bottle, "Bin a while since a lassie traivelt me haem." He smiled drunkenly.

"Thanks Michael." Carol ignored Scotty and flashed Michael a grateful smile.

Michael sighed, continuing to clean up the bar as Carol helped Scotty stumble out of the rec room.


They'd gotten to the bottom level of the ship when Scotty finally stopped hitting on Carol... and began the Scottish bar songs. Carol would've regretted going to the bar that night, but the truth was, Scotty wasn't so bad of a drunk. Carol had seen McCoy drunk, who went through stages of being hostile and then very depressed, and she much preferred Scotty. Scotty was a gentle although extremely intelligent man, and it showed through in everything he did. If he ever made good on any of his flirtatious threats, he'd probably get too nervous and insist on a proper, romantic night first.

After the third reprise of the second poorly but exuberantly sung song, Carol realized Scotty was taking them to the depths of engineering, no doubt where Scotty kept his nest. They passed under a large fuel pipe, and sure enough, came to an out of place mechanical door. Scotty slung a slew of swears at it, and it's lights turned blue and unlocked. Carol laughed.

The room was so filled with wires and pipes that it didn't appear to have any walls. Screens lined one area above an array of equipment hooked up to outlets littered throughout the room. The screens showed what appeared to be the status of every part of the ship. There was even a technical map of the ship framed lovingly below. It wasn't all mechanics, though. It was actually quite homey. There was a bar in one area (filled with empty bottles and dispensers), a few deep armchairs near the screens, and a bed in the corner with several faded pillows, its sheet half falling off. Another door led to a private bathroom, Carol assumed.

"Ah, haem awa' frae haem." Scotty collapsed onto his bed, blindly pulling the sheets up over him and failing because he was laying on them.

Carol sighed, "Alright. Do you need anything?" She wasn't sure if she should be seeing this.

"Hrmm...lazy..bastards...." He mumbled something about ensigns as he gave up on the blankets and reached down for a bottle on the floor. It was at his lips before he realized it was empty. He groaned and rolled onto his back miserably, "Oh lassie, A'm fucked. Sae fucked."

Carol's posture sunk a little, "C'mon, we're not that far from the base. Why are you drinking so much lately, anyway?" She scolded him, walking over to help with the sheets.

Scotty didn't move, moaning dramatically as Carol worked against him to pull the sheets out.

"A'm a monster, lassie. Ah shuid be pat awa', locked up, ugh..."

Carol shoved him off the edge of the sheet and finally yanked them away, "You're not a monster." She retorted, throwing the sheets on him anticlimactically.

"Yuaydmmhffmnoit..." He blubbered beneath the blankets.

Carol sighed. She tugged the blanket down an inch, off of his face, "What?"

" Ye dinnae ken th' hauf o' it..."

Carol paused. Scotty was... was he crying? She sighed and sat down on the edge of his bed, "Do you want to talk about it?"

Scotty wiped his eyes, " Ah cannae stoap lassie, ah cannae dae it..."

Was he talking about drinking? "Well, maybe you can join a support group? Or just... try and cut back a bit..."

Scotty laughed spitefully, " Nae, nea... Nae th' bevvy, lassie." He looked at her like she was a sweet, innocent angel, "Oh lassie..." He sniffled, " Tis nae e'en close."

"Well what is it? Maybe I can help." She insisted.

"No lassie, there's naethin ye kin dae. A'm juist fucked. Ha. Haha. Nae even. That's th' kinch isnae it? It's gotta be. It's gotta be th' kinch..."

Carol tilted her head in confusion.

Scotty tried to get up but just rolled a little to one side and ended up staring at the framed photo of the Enterprise, "A'm sae sorry, bairn." He teared up, " Ye deserve a better jimmy than me tae maintain ye. A'm a traitor. A pervert. Hell, A'm a bloody pedophile." He squeaked.

"Mr. Scott." Carol was concerned now, "What are you talking about?"

"Ah... Ah think..." Scotty rolled onto his back to face her. He put a hand on Carol's side dramatically, "Ah think a'm in love, lassie."

Carol huffed in annoyance, "Oh, really. That's enough." She stood up, "If you don't want my help then I'm leaving. You can wallow in your pity party alone." She said curtly.

"Na! Na, lassie, nae ye!" Scotty looked alarmed and ashamed, "Ye'r a bonnie, gorgeoos, smart as hell lady. Hell, if ye wanted me, a'd gie it tae ye every hoor ay every day!"

"Mr. Scott!" Carol sighed.

"A'm juist saying, lassie! Nae need tae gie yer panties twisted. Unless yoo're intae that. A'd love tae help, but..." Carol's stern look shut him up fast. "...but, tis nae ye, lassie." He started looking pitiful again. And Carol, despite herself, calmed down. She sat back down.

"Then who? Who are you torturing yourself over like this?" She asked.

Scotty swallowed, tearing up again, "It's nae thair fault. It's aw me. Ah juist... Ah cannae control it. As cannae stop thinking about it... Ah want tae bugger them in kip, in th' safety shower, in th' nacelles, och..." He groaned miserably. Carol had never seen him like this. She wasn't sure if she was disturbed or sympathetic, "'n' then th'e dreams. Och god, th' things Ah dae tae him...!"


"It's downright illegal! A'm a monster, lassie. Ah dunnaeu kin whit tae dae."

"Scotty. Who?"

Scotty moaned in agony, rolling around.


"...It's Chekov..."

Carol paused.

"Och god. It's Mr. Chekov." He broke out in fresh tears, blubbering into the sheets.

Carol's mouth had fallen open. She didn't know what to say. Slowly, she put a hand on Scotty's shaking shoulder. Surely, he couldn't be serious. Was this an elaborate joke? Was Scotty so drunk he wasn't remembering things right? "There, there..." She whispered to him regardless. Maybe he wouldn't even remember this.



There was no way.

Scotty sighed audibly, pulling himself together, "Oh lassie, ye'r tae guid tae me. Ah shuid be in jyle."

"Well." Carol said quietly, "He is...eighteen."

Scotty sniffed.

"And you... it's not like you would do anything to him. You're his boss, his mentor..."

"Yeah, yeah that's right." Scotty defended himself, "A'd ne'er lay a finger oan him." He swore.

"Then." Carol thought about it, although she never thought she would, "Maybe you can just...wait for it to pass."

Scotty sniffed, "A'right." He nodded.

Carol patted his shoulder sympathetically, "It'll be okay. Chekov will never know, and you can both move on."

Scotty nodded some more, "Aye. Okay..."

Carol sighed, sitting there with him for a while, and under her soft reassurances (and a half gallon of alcohol) Scotty fell asleep.

Chapter Text

"The M/ARA eez at peak ootput, inteermix ratio at oonhundert-oonhundert, dilithioom creestal stabulized, and eelectro-plasma ootput at two-zousand Teeradynes peer seekond. Zhat shood be more zhan enoff zu sustain oorbitul procedure for anuzzer sewen days."

Scotty came out of his wet dream as he realized Chekov was finished, "Oh, uh. Guid. Weil done, laddie."

Chekov looked pleased, "Zhank you, ser."

Scotty screwed up his determination, determination not to look Chekov up and down as he walked away. Chekov had such a nice arse. Scotty swallowed, failing his task miserably. Hearing Chekov rattle off all that technical talk, about the interworkings of his lady the Enterprise no less, Scotty had the chills. He'd be dreaming about that voice tonight...

"Good morning Mr. Scott."

Scotty jumped, "Yee-ah!" He turned about to face Carol Marcus, dressed in her full cadet uniform, "Woo, ye scared me, lassie!" He clutched his chest.

Carol eyed him knowingly, "Having a good morning?" She glanced at Chekov as he turned a corner.

Scotty blanched "Uh... " He stalled, but then, "Oh Fanny Baws..." Before Carol could protest, he swept her out of the main walkway of the Engineering Bay and into an open security room. He shut the door quickly and turned on the lights. The room hummed to life.


"Mr. Scott! Is this really necessary?" She collected herself.

They hadn't spoken since last night. After Scotty fell asleep, Carol let herself out, but she wanted to stop by to check in on him before her shift. Engineering always started earlier than other departments.

Scotty gave her an apologetic look, "Lassie, look, aboo las' nigh' gotta knoo, Ah was out o' my mind drunk..."

"Mr. Scott."

"There's hee haw between Mr. Chekov 'n' I, that's... that's insane... n' inappropriate!"

"Mr. Scott..."

"Ah wid ne'er...! Nae wi' Chekov, he's a kid!"

"Mr. Scott you said you wanted to screw him in the nacelles."

Scotty's mouth went dry. He shut it.

Carol sighed, amused, "I just wanted to see how you were doing. I'm surprised you're not hung over, vomiting over the railing."

Scotty calmed himself a little, "A'd like tae be. But Ah assure you, my vitality is th' result o' years o' experience." He gave her a quick look, "Noo, look..."

"Scotty, we already discussed this. I'm not going to the Captain with this, or anyone else for that matter. I trust you." She pointed at him, "Don't ruin that."

Scotty nodded soberly, "Aye." Then, after an awkward silence, "Thanks, lassie."

"Don't mention it." She smiled, "Seriously."

Scotty scoffed a laugh, "Aye, well, dunnae worry aboo tha'. Noone else needs tae know A'd tie th' bairn tae th' nacelle catwalk 'n' make him recite plasma injector produce while ah buck him sensele..."

"Mr. Scott!" Carol put a hand to her head, feeling sick for a moment.

Scotty blinked, realizing he'd gone off without thinking, but then, he laughed, "Sorry. Ah juist... Ah ne'er thought this day wid come."

"Tell me about it." Carol took a few deep breaths.

"Okay, so thare we wur..."


Scotty smiled at her as she pulled herself together. "Ye know, a've bin thinking about whit ye said last night." He relaxed against a security panel, "At least, whit ah thought ye said. Ah checked his chart this mornin', th' lad's only scheduled for another week assisting me."

Carol raised her eyebrows, "Oh?"

"Aye, then he goes back tae Helm Crew."

"That's great!"

"Ah knae! Ah only hae tae put up wi' him for another week." He said, giving a small smile. It felt stale, though. Uneven.

Carol patted him on the shoulder, unnoticing, "See? You can make that. Then you don't have to work directly with him anymore. Just don't screw anything up too bad down here." She said sternly.

Scotty made a face, "Me?! It's th' damn ensign crew doon 'ere screwing everything up! Ye think th' captain wid send me something better than a crew o' monkeys wi' BAs in God knows whit! Shit flinging!"

Carol laughed, "Alright, alright." She checked her PADD, "Oh shit, I've got to get to my shift. Take care of yourself." She smiled warmly.

Scotty chuckled nervously, "You, too, lass."


Scotty left shortly after Carol, shutting the lights off. He noticed the security panel turned off with them. He didn't have time to figure out if that was supposed to happen or not, because he suddenly heard a group of ensigns talking hurriedly in the hall. He could smell a recent blunder. And fear...

"OY! Whit are ye weans daein' tae my ship!" He hollered, rushing out of the room.

The ensigns panicked and dispersed. It was popular belief by new Engineering ensigns that Scotty was in fact just outside of your field of vision at all times, and so far, he had done nothing but support that belief.


As Scotty was running off, he didn't notice one ensign just outside of the security room. Mr. Chekov had come back to find Scotty, and was now lingering out of sight, looking heartbroken.

He'd heard everything, ducking out of sight as Carol left. Granted, he didn't understand half of what Scotty said, but he understood the part about Scotty not wanting him around. He was counting the days until Chekov left.

Scotty... didn't like him.

Chekov bit his lips, thoughts moving a thousand parsecs a second. Should he ask to be transferred back to the helm immediately? What would happen to Scotty if he didn't have an assistant? Did Chekov do something wrong? Suddenly, Chekov noticed the door to the security room wasn't shut all the way, and a different plan began to formulate in his head.

Chekov made sure no one was around, then snuck into the security room. He looked at the panel switch just inside. It had two long switches that could be turned on simultaneously: one controlled the lights, the other controlled the security equipment. Chekov switched just the equipment on and went to the monitors. Sure enough, one of them had recorded a video of Scotty and Carol's conversation. Chekov could download it onto his PADD, translate what Scotty had said, and figure out what he was doing wrong. Then he could fix it, and Scotty would like him!

Chekov made to connect his PADD under the tiny blue lights, but paused.

Was this wrong?

Chekov knew the answer was yes. Spying on people who weren't doing anything wrong was wrong. Recording them and saving it for personal use was wrong. But... Chekov didn't know what else to do. He'd done something wrong (a lot of things, apparently), and he didn't know how else to fix it.

Chekov bit his lip helplessly.




Chapter Text

After Scotty's talk with Carol, Scotty found it much easier to endure his thoughts whenever Chekov was around. That, combined with his ceasing hangover, and Scotty was feeling great. By lunch, however, Scotty was beginning to wonder if Chekov was easier to deal with because he wasn't around nearly as much as usual.

Was Chekov ditching him?

Normally, Chekov followed him around all day, only letting up when Scotty sent him off to do a task. But that afternoon, Scotty had to find him to tell him to do something. He'd always turn out to be doing it already, but still. When Chekov didn't wait for Scotty after lunch (Scotty took the first lunch then relieved Chekov), Scotty felt a little upset. He had to remind himself that this was, in fact, exactly what he wanted, but it made him feel like shit.

Chekov showed up just before the end of their shift, checking in with Scotty and relaying the status of the ship. Scotty barely heard him. He wanted to talk to him, to ask him if everything was okay, but Scotty couldn't work up the nerve before Chekov took his cue to leave.


To Chekov, Scotty wasn't acting any different than normal. Chekov didn't want to say or do anything stupid around him before he found out what Scotty had said that morning, so he went straight to his room after his shift.

The room was dark.

"Sulu?" Chekov called out. He got no response. Good.

He took his shoes off, "Lights."

The lights turned on, revealing a cluttered but highly organized room. Two people lived there, both with extensive hobbies, so the room was always containing some project or another. Sulu had his plants and Chekov had his holo-panels, and together they had a couple of computers. They made great roommates, as they had similar schedules and interests, but at the moment, Chekov was glad Sulu was still in the botany lab.

Chekov activated his best computer: one that was hooked up to the whole ship's database like the ones in the helm.


He put the file into an analyzer and opened his translate program. His heart sank when it didn't recognize the language. Chekov put on a determined face and started digging. He found more language programs on the database, but nothing matched. No problem, he could just search for the dialect. He looked through his options, then realized he had no idea what to look for. He didn't know what part of Scotland Mr. Scott was from.

Chekov made a frustrated sound and sank in his seat. If only he'd asked. Or just... talked to Scotty. Maybe that's what he should do. Abandon all this spy stuff and just... talk to him.

He sighed, pouting. No. He could do this.

Chekov worked through the list of dialects, listening to the few seconds of his file through each, until after a half an hour, one dialect finally registered.

Chekov bolted upright. He brought his computer up to a stand and hit play. He watched Scotty rush Carol into the room. He plugged his ears for parts he knew weren't relevant. He bit his lips, trying to see where he should listen. Finally, he found it. He turned the volume up...

" else needs to know I'd tie the kid to the nacelle catwalk and make him recite plasma injector produce while I fuck him sensele..."

Chekov's brows came together in confusion. The program was reciting his words in a flat, Russian tone, but... it didn't make sense.

He replayed it. Again. And again. Until he realized the program wasn't messing up. Scotty was saying... he said... he wanted to...

...have sex with him.

Chekov went red. Then pale. He sat down, his legs too wobbly to stand on as the file looped in Russian. He needed... he needed to hear Scotty's voice say it. He wasn't sure why. He turned the program off and just played the file. Suddenly what Chekov had overheard made sense.

Mr. Scott wanted to have sex with Chekov. And more than that. He wanted to have kinky sex with Chekov.

Chekov stared in shock, no longer listening. Frozen. Or melting. He wasn't sure which. He felt weird. Suddenly the door opened.

"Chekov?" It was Sulu.

Chekov scrambled to turn the program off. He was sweating, "Hello." He said quickly, "Um, how was yoor day?"

Sulu didn't notice anything was up. He really was the perfect roommate. He gave Chekov a sly smile, "Great. I have a date, so I'm just changing." He said, starting to strip on his way to the bathroom., "What are you up to?"

"A date?" Chekov removed his PADD, not hearing that last thing. He meant to delete the file once he heard it, but he hadn't, "Oh, with who?" Sulu's life was so interesting. Even though he worked with boring plants. Something Chekov reminded him about all the time.

"You know Micheal from the Chemistry Lab?" Sulu's voice echoed in the bathroom.

"Mikeal?!" Chekov gaped, "He eez not gay..."

"Oh yes he is...!" Sulu sang.

"When did you find out?"

Sulu popped out of the bathroom half dressed, looking for his dress shirt, "This morning." He grinned.

Chekov smiled, "Wow..." Chekov was jealous. He'd never so much as asked anyone out on a walk. He'd had a few wild times on missions (he was a magnet for alien chicks) but he'd never been able to do that on the ship with people he'd be able to stay with for more than a few days.

"Got any plans tonight?" Sulu asked as he did his hair in a mirror by the door.

"Ah, just more work." Chekov smiled sheepishly. That was mostly true.

Sulu shook his head, "Starfleet should be giving you two paychecks, since you're working two jobs."

"I wish. But I can do both." He said honestly, "I like hawing a lot to do."

"Well, since you're so insistent..." Sulu began, "Can you water Min-Ho for me? He's really high maintenance..."

"Yes, ok." Chekov said, spying the large, leafy, purple plant in the corner. It wasn't supposed to be purple, that's why Sulu got to keep it as a pet. But it drank more than Mr. Scott...

"Thanks a lot." He slipped on his shoes, "Okay, I'll see you later, Chekov."

"See yoo." Chekov nodded.

Chekov let out a breath when the door slid closed. Somehow, he felt even weirder than before. His stomach hurt. Chekov put the computer screen back into desk mode and lay in bed. He hadn't even changed yet. Chekov had the bottom bunk, since he went to work before Sulu. He picked up his PADD, staring at the file. What was he going to do? For once, nothing was coming to mind.

Chekov got up and showered. He changed into lounge clothes and watered Sulu's plants, casting furtive glances at his PADD. He wasn't paying attention when he watered Min-Ho, and it tried to root itself to Chekov's arm. He shouted and jumped back, giving him his water spitefully and from a distance.

After Chekov worked on the navigation plots for the supply dock voyage next week, he finally had nothing to do but contemplate the file. The lights had dimmed, simulating night time. It was a clever rig he had set after brainstorming with Sulu. It was good for both of them, but also the plants. Sulu still wasn't back (his date must have been going well), so Chekov lay back in bed with his PADD. He stared at the file more, until finally he resigned himself to listening to it again. He put headphones in and just listened to the audio.

He'd only listened to it once when he felt weird again. He put his hand on his stomach, trying to settle himself, but it wasn't working. Still, he couldn't stop listening to Scotty's voice, saying what he'd do to him. Now that he knew what Scotty was saying, it hit him. Scotty wanted to fuck him...

The file had looped three times when Chekov found his hand wandering down the front of his sweatpants.

"...A'd tie th' bairn tae th' nacelle catwalk..."

Chekov put a hand around himself, feeling himself absentmindedly.

"...'n' make him recite plasma injector produce while ah buck him sensele..."

Chekov sighed, understanding this feeling. He was turned on. Scotty saying all this stuff about him... it was hot. He closed his eyes, letting Scotty's words illustrate the scene in his head as he moved his hand, finding all his favorite places. He stroked himself slowly but constantly, Scotty's voice always touching him in just the right spot at the right moment. A part of him couldn't believe what he was doing, but that part was buried beneath a pleasure so much more poignant than that he'd felt in the past. Chekov kept going until he'd lost count of how many times he'd heard the recording, lost in himself.

Finally, with a soft breath and gasp, he came through his fist and onto his stomach, gasping faintly as Scotty's words echoed in his head like it was through a tunnel. He kept touching himself after, enjoying the aftershocks, imagining it was Scotty through the numbness.

He cleaned himself up but kept the headphones in. And despite everything on his mind, he fell asleep before Sulu got home and didn't even wake when he came in past midnight.

Chapter Text

Scotty had gotten used to Carol's counseling and for once he wanted someone to talk to who could talk back. But he didn't call her or visit that night. He didn't want to tell her that he didn't want Chekov to leave. Chekov was the best assistant Scotty had ever had. He was always on track, knew as much about the ship as Scotty did, and could keep up with him no matter what. Not even their language barrier was a problem.

When Scotty first heard that a seventeen-year-old had taken over his department, he was appalled. But within five minutes of Chekov getting him up to speed, Scotty was smitten. Chekov was a genius. A miniature Einstein with a cute Russian accent. Scotty would have been in love with Chekov on principle alone. But he also happened to be the sexiest creature Scotty had ever seen.

On Earth, Scotty's romantic life had been brief. He'd found his true love in the shapely, efficient form an intergalactic Federation ship. It was love at first sight. Scotty knew the Enterprise more intimately than the Captain knew his last handful of romantic partners. And despite popular belief, Captain Kirk was actually quite the romantic.

To say Chekov was an outlier in Scotty's otherwise well planned out and well taken care of love life would be an understatement. He wasn't sure where his feelings for Chekov had come from (he suspected his groin) but they'd taken over every kilowatt of his being. That was not normal. Maybe it was revenge for all those hormonal, young feelings he'd pushed aside to figure out to how to warp faster than the speed of light (something he never actually figured out on his own, by the way). Or maybe Scotty had just found his kink. Because the things he wanted to do to Chekov were also not normal. Not for him, anyway.

Scotty sighed, sipping a whisky, neat. Very neat. As in, just water.

"Aw whalluper!" He threw the glass on the rug "Howfur dae ye expect me tae bide lik' this, Jim?!" He hollered at the empty room.

Keenser's head poked out from a ventilation pipe somewhere above.

"Nae ye, ye git!" Scotty raised his arms, muttering to himself as he went to bed. Sober. What was this universe coming to?


Scotty felt just as bad the next morning as he did the previous one. And it didn't help that he was woken an hour before his alarm by his monitors flashing and beeping urgently.

The night crew for engineering had somehow missed the memo that they were in orbital position for an extra week, and amped the electro-plasma output to three thousand Teradynes. Which would have been fine, if the ship were moving. The Enterprise blew three EP taps overnight, leaving the whole ship without AC. It had only been twenty minutes since the AC went down, but it was hot, and Scotty knew it would get much worse unless they fixed the taps.

Scotty stormed through Engineering Bay, fuming. He had Keenser wake every one of his Engineering ensigns through the emergency network as Scotty verbally thrashed about the control room, setting the output back to Chekov's numbers. When he was done, he had a crew of nine waiting for instructions.

"Aw'ight, everbody SHUT IT! We got three taps in need o' repairs or noone's gaun back tae kip! LUCKILY th' taps blew! So th' extra energy th' night crew desperately thooght the Enterprise needed in order to STAY FECKIN' STILL haes already been drained! Ah need three wee ones in th' EPS in FIFE MINUTES oan those taps. Gie suited up an' in thaur NOW! Communicators on!" He shouted over the hums and whirs of the bay, "And Ah ken tis hot, but keep yer clothes on! As dinnae want anyone losing their skin coz they were startin' tae sweat!" He counted the heads as they dispersed. Everyone was there, good. Wait. Where was Chekov? "AW DAMN IT A' TAE HELL!" Scotty ran off to find Keenser.


Chekov was in his room, fast asleep. He'd forgotten to take out his headphones when he fell asleep, and was woken by Sulu shaking him, "Chekov! You going to sleep through every alarm?"

Chekov awoke with a start, looking around in confusion. What was in his ears? Oh right. Oh shit! "Sorry!" He got up, letting Sulu go back to sleep. Wait. Alarm? Chekov looked to his PADD. It was flashing red, "Der'mo!" He swore.

Chekov changed into his uniform and ran out into the hall, still getting his shirts on. The elevator seemed purposefully slow as Chekov held his flashing PADD, trying to turn it off. The halls were deserted and seemed unusually warm. The moment the elevator opened to Engineering, however, it exploded with sound and heat. Chekov rushed in, looking for Scotty amidst the chaos.

"Chekov!" Scotty appeared behind him, not five steps away, "Where th' hell have ye bin'?" He was red in the face from all the yelling, "Come wit' me, noo!"

Chekov swallowed. He followed swiftly, racked with guilt. Scotty had briefed him fully and told him where they were going before Chekov remembered the audio file. Chekov turned bright red just as Scotty had turned to him for an answer.

"Y...yes, ser!" He stammered.

"Guid!" Scotty went on, leading Chekov through a narrow pathway following a plasma conduit as he talked.

Thank god for the heat. Chekov was blushing furiously, realizing he was listening to the voice he'd orgasmed to last night. What in the universe had come over him? Scotty was his boss, his mentor... who wanted to fuck him so bad he was having dreams about it...

When they got into the left nacelle via a Jefferies Tube and Chekov saw the catwalk that led to the right, he finally knew what he was going to do. And for the first time in his life, it wasn't what he knew he should do. What he should do was delete the file, resume work with Scotty as normal for the next week, and maybe try to get a girlfriend on the ship in his spare time. But Chekov didn't want that. He wanted to be like Sulu, he wanted to decide what to do and be able to live with the consequences...

"Are ye listening, laddie?"

Chekov looked up at him, "Aye! Sorry ser."

"Gie yer head in it, lad. We gunnae do this twice, so pay attention." Scotty ordered. He felt bad for being brash to the boy, but he was annoyed at everything at the moment, and he still didn't know how to talk to Chekov properly. Luckily, the kid was resilient as Hell. And when he put on his determined face, Scotty got so turned on he got mad at himself, "Okay, we hae tae activate th' panels up there on both nacelles afore we kinn decrease power flow."

"You want to bring zhe ootage down faster?"

"Aye, but if we dinnae activate those panels first, th' system wilnae be able tae handle it. So let's... aw bugger." Scotty fumbled with the lift controls. There was a platform that raised mechanically to reach the panels above. Scotty banged it a few times, "Why wilnae ya work ya bastard?!"

Chekov blinked, looking around for another way up. There were some metal containers, but they'd be too heavy to stack.

"Mother o'...shit...damnit!"

Chekov's voice stopped him, "Lift me. Zhen I can reach zhem." He said.

Scotty stared.

Chekov wasn't sure he was saying it right, so he connected his fingers by his midsection, like what Scotty would have to do, "You are bigger zhan me, so..."

"Uh...aye. Okay." Scotty said firmly, even though he was battling the most crushing internal struggle of his life.

Scotty made the motion with his hands and sunk down as Chekov approached him. Even though Scotty was absolutely, scientifically sure that Chekov touching him would cause the entire ship to blow up, that didn't happen. Chekov hoisted himself onto Scotty's hands without issue. The issues came when Scotty lifted him up. He got as high as his belly when he couldn't lift anymore and Chekov had to lean on him to stay upright.

"Oy, watch it, lad!" Scotty sputtered, trying to avoid shoving his face into Chekov's crotch.

"I kin not reach!"

"Ugh!" Scotty groaned, hoisting him a little more and getting faceful of Chekov's uniform... and Chekov.

Chekov bit back a grin, "Okay, what now?"

"Enter... the code..." Shit, was Chekov leaning on him? Scotty hugged his legs out of necessity, leaning his head against Chekov's firm thigh. Shit, that was firm.

"What code...?"

Shit. "One. Seven. Three. Eight. Six." Scotty bit at each number. Luckily, the act of keeping Chekov up was so taxing, that Scotty couldn't possibly have gotten an erection.

Even though Chekov was entering the code and doing his job, he was having a great time. In fact, the only problem he was having was keeping from laughing, "Eez zhat all?"

"ARE YE HAVING A LAUGH UP THERE?" Scotty shouted indignantly, "Ah will drop ye, I swear on..."

"No, no, I am soorry!" Chekov smiled, "Eet eez done, let me down."

"Oh, Ah dinnae, since ye like being so tall...!"

Chekov laughed, squirming to force Scotty to give up his grip.

Scotty helped get him down, or rather, helped himself inch Chekov down, in which there was a lot of him just holding Chekov, who didn't mind at all. He was laughing in the cutest fucking possible way and it made Scotty want to pin him and have his way with him right on the platform.

Oh right. Chekov was the ensign jailbait who piloted the ship and potentially Scotty straight into early retirement. Although there'd be nothing straight about it. Scotty quickly let him go and backed away, catching his breath, "Alright..." His voice was shaky, "Let's...let's goo tae th' next one. Hopefully th' other lift will be workin'." He shot Chekov a mutinous glance, who was biting his lips keenly. God that was cute.

They moved through another Jefferies tube and out onto the catwalk. They passed over the first nacelle and Bussard ramscoop, Chekov watching Scotty's back the whole time. Scotty was quiet. Chekov was listening to the recording in his head. Was he really going to do this? Being that close to Scotty, it sent a chill down his spine. The same chill he felt climaxing to Scotty's voice last night. Chekov was going to do this.

He was going to hit on Scotty.

Scotty stopped halfway across the catwalk to check the pressure. The right nacelle was getting along fine, "Aye. This shuid work." Scotty confirmed his theory.

"This shood hwelp to cool down zee ship faster, too, yes?" He peered over the edge of the catwalk to look at the nacelles' efficient configuration, leaning against Scotty.

Scotty glanced at him and swallowed, unable to help but imagine Chekov in that same position... naked, "Aye! Let's gae!" He said edgily, abandoning the status panel.

Chekov bit back a smirk.

When they got to the next nacelle, the lift was working, so Scotty went up and entered the code. The combined alterations caused the surrounding hum of the ship to dull slightly.

"It worked!" Scotty smiled for the first time that morning, "Okay, let's goo back 'n' check oan th' ensigns." He said hurriedly, taking Chekov by the arm. Oh. Oh no, he couldn't let himself start touching him. Even if Chekov didn't protest...


Scotty had a hard time avoiding it for the rest of the morning, however. If he had been worried about Chekov avoiding him the previous day, he was the opposite now. Scotty found himself bumping into him at every turn. Chekov had always kept a respectful, if not reverent, gap between them, but now, Scotty had to keep from falling over him, literally and figuratively. He couldn't tell which day had been worse. And of course, Carol had come to check in on him at the worse time.

Chekov was recording an EPS grid near the top of a narrow hallway, and had to prop himself up on pipes between the walls. Scotty was passing by when Chekov asked him to read a dial for him. Scotty did it, but he had to move between Chekov's legs to do so. He swore the kid was practically sitting on the dial. He wasn't even sure why Chekov needed that number, but of the many things he'd discovered about himself that day, one of them was that he couldn't say no to Chekov.

Of course, Carol found them at that very moment. Scotty almost head-butted Chekov, which would have only been the second time he'd ever head-butted someone in the actual butt. Carol raised her eyebrow in such a fantastic impersonation of Spock that Scotty almost laughed. You know, if he wasn't in Chekov's crotch. Again.


Scotty wasn't sure why, but Chekov bothered him less after Carol stopped by. Still, by the time they'd cleaned up the night crew's mess, Scotty was a little sad to have to depart ways for rest of the morning.

The Captain had given everyone who stayed to fix the miniature catastrophe the rest of the morning off, sending a skeleton crew to monitor everything. Their next shift wouldn't start for three hours, and it would be a short one.

After the ensigns had left, Scotty was doing his second look around at all the monitors, when he turned and gave a shrill scream.

Chekov gaped.

" scared me, lad! God!" he clutched his heart.

Chekov smiled curiously, "Ah...sorry. I wanted to know if you wood like to haff breekfest wiz me. Since we newer haff ze same lunch break." He offered.

Scotty's heart had just started to calm, but it was beating out of his chest again, "Uh... well Ah..." He spotted Carol off in the distance, collecting data from a red shirt. All of the departments had problems because of the taps bursting, but why was she here again? "Sorry, Ah cannae. A've got plans." He said.

Chekov's smile faded, "Oh. Okay." He looked uncomfortable, "Maybe anuzzer time zhen." He said. He was gone before Scotty could reply.

Scotty's heart sank.

Sure enough, once Chekov was gone, Carol came over to talk, "Hey. How have things been down here?" She asked knowingly. If it was Hell in Tech, then Engineering must have been in a black hole.

Scotty scoffed a laugh, "Ye hae no idea. A'm working wi' a bunch o' eegjits."

"Not Chekov though." She corrected him.

"Aye." Scotty's face fell, "Not Chekov." Why was he so torn up over denying the kid breakfast?

"So I assume... that was just bad timing."

Scotty blanched, "Oh. God."

Carol laughed. But from the look on Scotty's face, there was more to it.


Scotty took Carol back to his little hideaway and told her everything. How Chekov was all over him and had invited him to breakfast. In a moment of weakness he even confessed that he didn't want Chekov to leave Engineering.

"Well of course you don't." She said, "But that's not your brain that's butting in."

Scotty sighed. She was right.

"He... doesn't know, does he?"

"Nae!" Scotty laughed, "Nae, there's na wey. How wid he know?" He asked, paranoid.

"I don't know, I'm just making sure." She said, "If he was acting strangely today it's probably something totally unrelated. Right?"

Scotty looked relieved, although he didn't feel it.

"C'mon, I've got you a gift." She said, handing him her bag that Scotty had just now noticed she was carrying.

"Oh, lassie..." He said tragically, "Tis nae really my color."

Carol made an impatient face then pulled a bottle of whiskey out.

Scotty looked like she'd just whipped out the Holy Grail, "Oh crivens, help ma boab!" He took it and coddled it like his first born child, "Wha... where did ye get this fraem?"

"You're not the only one who hordes." She smiled knowingly, "McCoy owed me a favor. He said he didn't take me for a whiskey girl, but..." She held a slender finger to her lips.

Scotty was on the verge of tears again, "Oh lassie, Ah cuid kiss ye!"

She backed up, "Go kiss the bottle." She directed him, "I've got to get back to work. We'll be on different shifts today so you know." Scotty wasn't listening. He was singing to his bottle, "And behave yourself!" She said pointedly.

Scotty was only speaking to his bottle now, "Thare thare, dinnae let th' pretty, mean lady disturb ye... ye'r safe noo..."

Carol scoffed a smile and headed out, "Bye!"

"Did ye hear something my sweet bonnie lass?"


Despite her less than gracious send off, Carol knew Scotty was grateful. She'd never known anyone to medicate themselves so effectively with alcohol. And just as she had suggested, Scotty began that very morning. He skipped breakfast, feeling too guilty to go to the cafeteria where Chekov would probably be. At least he wouldn't be alone. Chekov had lots of friends. He was quite popular despite spending every waking moment working.

Except, Chekov hadn't gone to the cafeteria either. He'd gone to his room. He was feeling sick again.

Chekov felt confident in his decision to pursue Scotty based off a conversation he'd spied on, when he was around him. But when Chekov was alone, he felt bad. He wanted this, he wanted Scotty. Why did it have to feel wrong?

And what was Carol doing earlier? Chekov never had any problems with her, but he was beginning to question what her role was in all of this. Was she just helping Scotty as a friend, or was there something between them?

Eventually, Chekov's hunger overruled his contemplation slash jealousy party, and he went to the rec room for snacks. He couldn't believe he'd skipped breakfast and only noticed it then. Being eighteen sucked.

Chapter Text

Engineering Bay continued to have problems for the next few days, just as Chekov continued hitting on Scotty. At first he thought he was suffocating him, but Scotty kept dragging him along everywhere and got mad when Chekov strayed too far. Then at lunch, Scotty convinced O'Reily, the Security Chief, to switch breaks with him so he could have lunch with Chekov.

"Ah feel bad for ditching ye th' other day." Scotty confessed once they were out of the stress and heat of the Engineering Bay.

Chekov was beaming.

Until that afternoon, Scotty had no idea how much Chekov could eat. There was a potato and mushroom strew that Scotty always loved to get when he had the time, but Chekov must have gotten three things, not including dessert. Scotty had to admit, watching Chekov take apart that macaroon and lick it like an Oreo was sexier than fitting a plasma injector into the proper port. Scotty almost missed inserting his spoon into his mouth several times. It was the best lunch he'd had outside of his nacelle nest. Deep down, he knew he wasn't doing it just to make it up to Chekov, though.

Scotty tried to stay professional for the rest of the day to make up for it, but an hour into the remainder of their shift, he caught Chekov eating almonds that he'd snuck out of the cafeteria.

"Oy! Wwhat are ye daein'?" Scotty shouted at him from down on the floor.

Chekov was in a Jefferies Tube, reclining while he recorded numbers and snuck almonds out of his pocket, "Nuzzing...!" He mumbled through a mouthful of nuts.

"Wha... ye damn squirrel! Ye cannae eat in here!" He climbed the short ladder to wrestle the package away from Chekov, not even thinking about it.

Chekov tried to fight back but he was caught off guard and in a disadvantaged position. He tried to roll away from him, but... not really.

Scotty caught him and stole the package.

"Hey!" Chekov pouted unexpectedly, "I'm hungry..."

Scotty thought for sure that was the moment the ship was going to blow up. He froze up, staring at that cherub face curled up in the Jefferies Tubes, pouting at him, oh god, "Bu... ye just... " Finally, the universe resumed flowing, "Ye just ate enough tae feed a horse an 'OUR ago!" Scotty gawked at him.

Chekov bit his lips sheepishly, "I hawe a fast metabolism?"

Hearing him say the word metabolism in that thick accent of his was like a auditory wet dream. Scotty suppressed a shudder, "Aw, fine. Juist dinnae make a mess." He caved, giving him the package back.

"I newer do." Chekov assured him.

"What dae ye mean ne'er?! How often dae ye eat in 'ere?!" Scotty had turned to climb back down, but immediately popped back up.

Chekov's eyes got big, "Um..."

Scotty sighed, giving him the nuts anyway.

"Want one?"

Scotty paused, studying Chekov with his outstretched hand. Scotty took the nut begrudgingly, putting it in his mouth, "You cannae bribe me e'ery time." He warned, crunching away menacingly.

Chekov smiled playfully to himself and Scotty had count to ten to calm himself get back to work. Surely that devious smile didn't mean what Scotty thought it did. No, that was impossible. Still. Scotty wanted to climb into that tube and rip Chekov's pants off.

It was moments like that that seemed to fill Scotty's life over the next few days. And even though he knew it was wrong, he knew Chekov was leaving, and he knew Carol would murder him if she found out he was allowing this to happen, Scotty left his shifts feeling happier than he'd ever been in his life. Chekov wasn't just sexy, he was god damn alluring, like a sexy angel. Did those even exist?

 For a brief and wild moment, he wondered if Chekov actually was flirting with him. But no. Scotty knew all about confirmation biases. He was probably only noticing these things because he wanted Chekov to being flirting with him.


It wasn't until another EPS tap burst that he really started questioning it. Chekov was the smallest and the smartest ensign aboard( a genetic combination so rare and beautiful that Scotty often teared up thinking about it; like an engineering unicorn). This meant Chekov was often the one to crawl into the EPS to fix the conduits that made up the ship's power grid.

Using the taps, electro-plasmic energy could be diverted, increased, or shut off all together to any part of the ship. An EPS tap bursting was nasty business because there was the possibility of plasma fires breaking out inside the conduits. And due to the recent temperature problems, Chekov, wearing full protective gear, was crawling into a veritable Hell.

Just like the other ensigns had done when Chekov slept in, he found the tap that was radiating with plasma, and signaled Scotty through the communication device in his suit, "Eet eez...tap noomber foorty two. Ower." He over-enunciated like he was used to.

Scotty's voice reverberated in the conduit, "Aye."

Chekov watched the radiation subside.

"Tap number forty two is noo aff. Resume replacement. Over."

"Aye." Chekov replied, making sure his gloves were fastened properly. He unclipped the tap covering and replaced the mount. Once the cover was screwed back on, he called back, "Tap replaced. Ower."

"Aye. Beginning test. Dae ye see ony light? Over."

"No. Ower."

"Ok, guid. Come oan back d..." A alarm cut Scotty off from his end. Chekov didn't need to hear it, though. A tap behind him had erupted into thick, green flames, making Chekov almost fall off the conduit in his haste to scramble away. He could smell where his suit had been singed, but he didn't feel anything. The sound of Scotty's voice began to come back to him as he felt the heat rise on his face.

"Chekov! Are ye hurt?"

"No. Shut down power to tap noomber foorty. I will fix eet. Ower."

"Donnae think aboo' it, laddie! We'll seal th' area!"

There came a pause, "You hawe to say ower. Ower."

"Chekov! Git outta there! GoddamnitOVER."

Chekov didn't listen. He waited for the power to be shut off, then screwed taps forty one and thirty nine part way off, maneuvering the pullulating fire to do so. In a sudden, contracting motion, the fire got sucked down into tap forty, leaving green scorch marks on the walls and Chekov's suit. Chekov sighed in relief.The tap glowed with green radiation, but at least in this form, the plasma would be too dense to spread. The radiation team could take care of it from there. Micheal in the Chemistry labs would have his hands full with such a pure sample of plasma radiation.

When Chekov returned, climbing out of the Jefferies Tube, he thought Scotty was going to throttle him. But he seemed to be holding himself back oddly well in front of the recovery team.

The team was deployed to the tap as Chekov got help taking the protective gear off. Some of it had fused together. The gear was ruined, but that was far less expensive than a new conduit section.

Tech and Engine Bays were ecstatic about avoiding a plasma fire spread and getting a new sample to give to Chemistry, but Chekov felt gross and sweaty. Just as he thought that Scotty was so mad at him that he wouldn't even speak to him, Scotty offered his private bathroom for Chekov to change and shower.

"But if yea ever dae anythin' that stupid again 'n' risk your life, Ah swear A will put ye oan janitorial duty." Scotty threatened.

Chekov gaped, but agreed. He tried to look intimidated, but that threat cheered him up more than he could explain. A part of him was still recovering from thinking that Scotty couldn't stand him. Hearing that he cared that much revitalized his plan. If Scotty wasn't understanding that Chekov cared for him, too, Chekov would just have to make it more obvious. And this was the perfect opportunity to do so.


Chekov followed Scotty to his secret room in just his under suit, his clothes under his arm. Chekov had found the door when he was Engineering Chief, but he'd never gotten the code right. He couldn't figure out how to pronounce any of it. When Scotty said the code in front of him, Chekov was in awe. The door slid open and let them both inside.

"Wow..." Chekov looked around as the door slid shut behind them. He was nearly drooling over all the equipment. And right next to the bed! Chekov had never been so envious. He wished he could've stayed there when he was Chief, but then again, Scotty had built it all by hand, or so Chekov understood.

"Bathroom's over 'ere, lad. Thare're towels inside." He gestured towards another door while enjoying the look on Chekov's face. He'd never brought someone down there who could actually appreciate all the hard work he put into the place. A part of him wanted to give Chekov a tour and tell him every detail about how he rigged it. It would take forever, but he could imagine lots of things they could do down there in the mean time...

No. Bad. Very bad. Scotty scolded himself.

Chekov didn't notice. He was just grateful he could take a shower.

The bathroom was similarly rigged together, but the pipes heated the water to the perfect temperature and there was plenty of room. Once inside, Chekov took off his under suit, and the undershirt he'd kept on and stepped into the shower. He wondered if Scotty had ever imagined Chekov there with him on cold night, showering together.

Unbeknownst to Chekov, Scotty was envisioning it then and there. He was monitoring the plasma levels from one of the screens, trying to keep his mind off the fact that Chekov was naked in his room. Sure, his bathroom, but still. Scotty was only half watching; His mind was in that shower with Chekov.

After ten minutes, the water turned off. Another few passed. Surely Chekov had toweled off and was changing. But then the door opened. Scotty turned towards the bathroom, and froze.

Chekov had come out with just a towel around his waist, his tight curls dripping down his forehead. Scotty gawked. He'd imagined Chekov's body before, but seeing it was another thing entirely. Chekov was more toned than Scotty imaged, but it just made his slender, Slavic body even sexier. He was slim and fare skinned, with freckles rather than body hair. He seemed to be made of nothing but firm, curved lines and soft, supple color. And those heavy lidded, blue eyes were staring right at him. Scotty gripped the desk behind him.

"Do you hawe an undershirt I can borrow?" Chekov asked casually. Although if Scotty didn't know better, he could've sworn there was a glint in his eye.

" Aye. Aye, haud oan." Scotty stammered, brow pulled together in fierce concentration. This was a bad idea, this was a very bad idea.

Scotty dug though his drawers, finding things much too large for Chekov. Finally, he found an undershirt small enough and stuck it out for Chekov to take. Scotty couldn't turn back around. He just couldn't.

Although Chekov approaching him from behind, smelling of Scotty's shampoo, was almost worse. He could feel the warmth of that freshly showered skin on his back, could hear his bare feet on the floor, smell Chekov's natural scent mixed in with Scotty's shampoo, not to mention the intoxicating metallic must of the ship... Chekov took the shirt, "Thanks." He said.

Scotty nearly fell over onto the floor after the bathroom door shut. He sank down into a chair, looking like he'd just run a marathon, "Doon, laddie." He said to himself. He'd never get that image out of his head. He had half a mind to send Chekov back alone. But when he came out, fully dressed (wearing Scotty's undershirt underneath) Scotty decided he'd rather go back with him.

Scotty thought for sure Chekov was looking at him too much on the walk back. Scotty was silent, as was Chekov. The main bay provided all the noise they needed once they got there.


A member of the recovery team was waiting for Scotty.

"Mr. Scott." She was a Vulcan woman, shorter than Spock but with an undeniable Vulcan sharpness about her. She looked keener than Spock, too. Chekov vaguely recalled she had been something like a foreign exchange student to the Academy years back, "The plasma material has been contained and taps thirty-nine through forty-one have been replaced. Cleaning crew will be done in seven point twelve minutes, and you may resume use of that conduit after that."

Scotty nodded exhaustedly, "Aye. Guid. Ye guys are a life-saver."

"I believe Mr. Chekov is the lifesaver." She turned her piercing, yet refrained gaze to him, "You are the one who stopped fire, are you not?"

Chekov was surprised, "A...aye."

"Excellent." She looked back to Scotty, a small smile barely noticeable at the corner of her lips, "I'll be going now." She saluted them both then strode away.

Both Scotty and Chekov turned to watch her go.

"Ah think she fancies ya, lad." Scotty teased.

Chekov turned red, "Ah... no. No way." Aliens. He thought. He didn't have time for that now. He had to seduce Scotty.

Chapter Text

Chekov redoubled his efforts to hit on Scotty for the rest of the day, to the point that he was afraid others might notice. He tried to keep it in private, but the status of the ship meant every area had at least one red shirt on duty. Luckily, everyone seemed distracted by the heat problems, until even Scotty couldn't ignore it.

They had passed by a group of women who had their shirts rolled up while they worked. They all quickly rolled them back down when they saw Mr. Scott, but Mr. Scott didn't say even anything. Chekov was relieved. Mr. Scott could be a little hard on the other ensigns sometimes.

Finally, he sighed, "Aye, I think it's time we did something about this heat."

Chekov was relieved to hear that, too. The heat was wearing down his seduction techniques.


Mr. Scott planned to enter the M/AR Assembly instead of the nacelles, getting at where the plasma energy was created instead of where it ended up. There was a conduit both he and Chekov could fit in, and they'd be able to power up the AC even more, at least while the nacelles cooled down. Chekov was up for it, even though they'd be going back into the hottest part of the ship. Neither one of them were from warm climated areas, so they seemed to share enthusiasm about the heat. At least they didn't need suits in the Jefferies Tubes.

Chekov pretended not to notice that Scotty had to put a slightly less-abled student in charge so they could go together.

The climb through the tubes was hot. They were on their hands and knees for most of it, until they got to larger work area that housed the control panels. There were two, positioned across from each other. Scotty went to the primary one, and Chekov to the secondary. He didn't have to instruct Chekov this time, as Chekov had navigated the M/ARA extensively during the super-human incident. Hell, Chekov had put most of it back together.

"Starting power up sequence."

"Aye." Chekov replied, back to back with Scotty.

"Three, two, one..."

They both activated the panels, and the unnoticeable whir of the AC pipes below picked up considerably.

"Maintain on manual controls."

Now they just had to wait until things cooled down a bit. They couldn't leave the AC at this level indefinitely, it would freeze the ship over. Even though they were traveling through the frozen void of space, the ship produced so much energy that massive heat gain was inevitable, and they still needed to cool the insides down, at least closer to the source of the power.

"How long whull we wait?" Chekov asked, leaning against Scotty's back.

"Oh, aboo' twenty minutes or so." Scotty leaned back without thinking.

Chekov bit his lips happily.

Scotty's mind slowly began drifting from the control panels, contemplating instead how warm and firm Chekov's back was. He suppressed a shiver.

"Can I see ze powar lewels?" Chekov asked curiously.

"Yeah, sure." Scotty didn't think anything of it... until Chekov had moved to his side, getting close to observe the primary panel. Very close. The temperature displayed was at 31.3 degrees Celsius. Chekov always thought it was funny that Scotty refused the convert the ship to Bhorogees. He was as proud of being born on Earth as Chekov was in Mother Russia.

"What eez zhis foor?" Chekov snuck in against Scotty and pointed to a symbol on the screen he didn't recognize.

Scotty made some room for him, but there wasn't much. He ended up lifting his arm above Chekov and grasping a handle above them, "Oh, we got a deaf ensign in Recovery last month. That communicates wi' thair comm. tech." He tapped it and a message popped saying there was no nearby bioPADD to connect alerts to, "This area is sae removed from th' rest o' th' ship ye can get lost in here." He commented.

Chekov agreed. He wasn't really watching the numbers like Scotty was, though. He wanted to get closer to him. But it was so hot.

"Um.. Meester Scotty?"

Scotty glanced at him, "Aye, lad?"

"Eez eet all right eef I remove my shirt?"

Scotty wasn't reading the numbers anymore, either, "Uh... I dunnae see why noo'." He answered, screaming internally in panic. He honestly didn't see why not, given where they were - tucked into a Jefferies Tube. Aside from the fact that Scotty would have to fight off that memory of the towel, and an erection, for the next twenty minutes. He cleared his throat awkwardly as Chekov pulled his red shirt and black protective shirt off. At least Chekov wore undershirts.

Shit. Scotty's undershirt.

Chekov moved back beside him, shoulders bare and hair a little messed up. He was flushed red from the heat, and Scotty's undershirt was still just a little too big on him, revealing the slight cleavage of his firm but slender chest.

Scotty swallowed, adjusting himself a little.

Chekov assumed that meant Scotty was comfortable, rather than Scotty was trying to rearrange his balls, and leaned against him again.

Scotty internally panicked and put his arm down... around Chekov.

"Uh, um... ye see tha' thair?" He tried to cover by pointing to another symbol on the screen.

Chekov blinked, "Yees...?" It was just the warp sensor, a standard symbol on all engineering devices. It displayed what warp the ship was in. It currently read zero.

"Ah invented tha'." Scotty saved.

Chekov's eyes widened, "Really?"

Scotty nodded proudly, relaxing his arm around Chekov, "Aye, Ah had it installed on oor lady th' Enterprise, 'n' noo it's Federation Standard. They even teach it in th' Academy noo." He misted up in nostalgia.

Chekov blinked again, processing it. Scotty was the very man who solved the speed of light conundrum before he came aboard the ship with Kirk. When he came back and Chekov had to fill him in, Chekov was admittedly little star struck. Chekov had forgotten all about it, but it came back anew.

Chekov felt that jolt again, the same one he felt the first time he really understood the recording, and he snuggled up against Scotty.

Scotty beamed, not minding one bit. Until his senses came back to him. Slowly, his expression went from heavenly bliss to guilt and panic. He didn't dare move though. Disturbing Chekov's comfort felt like breaking some natural law. Scotty swallowed.

Carol was going to kill him.

"Uh... lad?" His voice cracked before he could stop it.

Chekov looked up at him, inches away from his face.

Scotty went red, "Uh... do ye think, maybe... um..."

Chekov expression opened up in realization. Scotty was uncomfortable, "Oh, soorry." He moved off of him quickly, leaning against the curvature of the tube instead. He looked embarrassed. And confused.

Scotty sighed, guilt eating away at his insides like starving bluegills, "I... uh, laddie look..."

Chekov looked at him, those heavy-lidded doe eyes for once not reflecting the millions of thoughts running through his curly head. They were stationary, on Scotty.

They spoke at the same time, but Chekov won out:

"Ye gotta understa..."

"I owerheard yoo talking to Leeutenant Marcus in the zee securety room."

Scotty paused, racking his brain in a wave of fresh panic.

Chekov looked guilty, but determined, "I know how yoo imagine me." Chekov sat up straight. And when Scotty didn't immediately scold him, Chekov moved closer again, biting his lips slowly, "And I... I do not mind." He waited for Scotty to stop him, but he didn't. So Chekov moved even closer and, letting his surge of adrenaline in telling the truth feed into his confidence, straddled Scotty's lap, "I zhink zhat... eef you want me... You can haff me." He leaned into him.

Scotty looked like he'd been turned to stone. Finally, he squeaked out the only amount of voice he could muster to ask...

"Are you hitting on me?"

Chekov blinked, then took Scotty's hands and put them on Chekov's hips. Scotty's undershirt was too long at the top, but just short enough at the bottom to place Scotty's hands directly on Chekov's skin, clean, but with a fresh player of sweat.

Scotty lost his battle against his erection.

"Ah... lad, laddie..." His panic finally broke through his vocal chords, but he didn't move his hands, "I.. look... this isnae, tis nae..." Scotty tried a million times to clear his head and use his brain, but his other voice kept taking over. Until finally, his brain was mush and he was leaning forward the slightest bit, allowing Chekov to kiss him.

If Chekov thought that jolt was nice when he was touching himself, the feeling of Scotty's lips on his was a hundred times better. Once Chekov kissed him, Scotty lost his shame and began kissing him back. Chekov tasted like almonds and honey. And when Scotty felt Chekov's tongue lap gently at his lips and slide into his mouth, Scotty sighed, losing himself in Chekov's taste.

Slowly, Scotty's hands began feeling up Chekov's body. Chekov lifted his arms and held the handle, so Scotty could touch him more. Eventually, Scotty pushed the shirt up and Chekov took it off, tossing it somewhere. Scotty immediately began tasting Chekov everywhere. His neck, his collar bone, the curve of his chest. He tasted sweet and salty at the same time, the cloven musk of Scotty's wash mixed subtly with Chekov's natural aroma. It was heaven.

Scotty wasn't sure if it would do anything to a man, but when he got to Chekov's nipples, he tasted those, too, and was rewarded with a soft gasp and sigh. Hearing Chekov's voice do that was intoxicating, so Scotty went to the other protrusion, fingering Chekov's right, while Chekov panted softly, rubbing into Scotty's lap. Scotty could feel Chekov's shape against his stomach, and soon it wasn't enough.

Scotty sat up, repositioning them so his hands were on Chekov's arse, then leaned him back onto the grating of the Jefferies Tube floor. As Scotty bent down to resume their kiss, he realized the AC from the pipes below was creating cool steam coming up from the floor, as if the ship herself were encouraging them. Oh how Scotty loved his ship. The perfect woman.

With Chekov's subtle encouragements, Scotty removed his shirts and undershirt as well, tossing them aside. Immediately he felt Chekov's slightly smaller hands on him, his long fingers moving over Scotty's body. For the first time in a what felt like decades, Scotty felt a twinge of embarrassment. He wasn't nearly as young or fit as Chekov, but Chekov's hungry nibbles and bites to Scotty's ear wiped the thought from his mind. Scotty wanted Chekov to eat every inch of him.

Chekov's hands moved down to the back of Scotty's pants, and with his help, Scotty undid them and slid them down. The cool mist felt amazing on his thighs, but nowhere near as amazing as Chekov's belly pressing against him as Chekov removed his own pants as well. Or Chekov's hands slipping down the back of Scotty's underwear to grasp his buttocks.

Scotty gasped, a startled smile on his red lips, "Ha, woah thair, laddie." But he didn't mean it, and Chekov knew it, because he put Scotty's hands on his hips again and resumed feeling him up. Scotty's heart pounded, feeling the firm V of Chekov's slender body. Before he realized he was doing it, he was shrugging Chekov's boxers down. They were yellow, but looked orange in the dim Tube lighting, making Chekov's hair look fiery, his eyes like a super nova.

Slowly, Scotty moved his calloused hands down Chekov's smooth stomach, feeling his body heat increasing with every centimeter, until finally, he reached its source.

Chekov's head tipped back with a silent gasp, the slavic lines of his face relaxing as he felt Scotty's rough hand feel him over. Chekov was nearly hairless, and he was about the same size as what Scotty had imagined, making his heart sink a little. Scotty knew his own reveal wouldn't be as impressive. But Chekov's young body was much more receptive than he thought. Scotty watched in his own cloud of ecstasy as Chekov lay in his, Scotty's hand exploring his length and balls tenderly.

"Yoo can... go harder..." Chekov rasped, his accent thicker than usual.

Scotty didn't realize he'd been coddling him, so he gripped him the way he would himself, without fear, and began to pump him. Chekov groaned softly and Scotty couldn't help but echo him, "Oh, bloody..." Scotty was so turned on he felt dizzy. He leaned back down over Chekov, abandoning his view to be closer to him. Chekov kissed him softly, blindly working his hands down to Scotty's boxer-briefs and trying to take them off. But Scotty stopped him, his hand leaving Chekov's length.

Chekov looked heartbroken, and it made Scotty want to give in and bring Chekov to orgasm right there. But his self-consciousness was winning.

"Laddie..." He tried to explain, "Ah... A'm nae as young you, ye knoo, A'm nae..."

Chekov kissed him so softly it felt as if Scotty had been kissed by an angel. He didn't say another word as Chekov pushed his box-briefs down. Scotty helped him, but Chekov didn't really need it. Scotty felt his nerves prickle up in the cool mist, feeling hypersensitive as Chekov smoothed his fingers down the soft trail of ginger hair.

"Ah... !" Scotty couldn't do it. He moved away, sitting up off of Chekov, "Sorry... sorry, laddie." He looked at him helplessly. Why was he so self-conscious? Was it the reality of the situation kicking in? Was it Guilt? Chekov was eighteen, eighteen, he kept reminding himself.

Chekov eyes were hazy. Scotty wasn't sure what was going through his mind, but in the next second he was moving with a youthful grace to sit up in front of Scotty. He put a hand on Scotty's chest to lean him back on his butt against the curve of the Tube. Scotty wasn't sure what Chekov was doing until he saw those angelic, wanting eyes dip down.

Scotty nearly swore, but his breath was sucked out of him by Chekov's mouth.

Chekov had only ever given head before, but he took all of Scotty into his mouth with one slow, determined swallow. Scotty moaned, and it was better than every word on that recording sitting in his bedroom.

"Oh.. oh, laddie..." Scotty panted, patting Chekov hand uselessly.

Chekov could barely feel it, he was concentrating on relaxing Scotty, on exploring him with his lips and tongue. He was new at this, as he was beginning to suspect Scotty was as well, but Chekov knew he could do this. He needed Scotty to know that Chekov wanted to lavish every part of him with his lust, no matter the age or experience difference. Because Chekov wanted Scotty to do the same to him.

Within a minute, though, Scotty began to interrupt him, "Laddie, laddie stop... oh, ye'r gunna... A'm gunna... nae yet, lad."

Chekov picked his head up, his lips swollen and glossy. Scotty almost came just at the sight. He shuddered a sigh, "Oh, Chekov..."

Chekov wiped his mouth with the back of his hand before setting it on Scotty's knee. He moved closer to him, "Yoo kin call me Pawel."

Scotty nodded dumbly, "Pawel."

Chekov's heated expression broke into the most beautiful smile Scotty had ever seen, "No, no... Pawel."

Scotty understood, "Oh! Oh... sorry. Pavel." He repeated.

Chekov's eyes closed for a moment at the sound.

Scotty brought a hand up to Chekov's cheekbone, caressing him gently.

Chekov loved it. He turned his face into Scotty's hand, kissing his palm with just a bit of Scotty's own residue on his lips, "Meester Scott... do you want to..." He began.

"Aye." Scotty whispered to him. He couldn't believe he was sitting here like this with Chekov, naked; he'd never wanted anyone so badly in his life.

"Um... I mean..." Chekov went on, but when Scotty didn't quite follow, Chekov went on, "Feenger me?" He said.

Scotty had completely blocked it out of his mind that that was possible with men, so it came as a complete surprise that, not only did his hand know where to go, but it did so with enthusiasm.

"Ah... wait, wait." Chekov took his Scotty's hand first and brought it to his mouth. He sucked on Scotty's fingers with relish, making Scotty's length twitch. Scotty didn't want him to stop, but he knew there something much better to come.

Chekov balanced on his knees, his hands on Scotty's knees, as he felt Scotty's wet finger move beneath his legs and gently slip up inside.

If Chekov hadn't heard that recording, he probably would have tried to top Scotty by default. But the picture Scotty had painted in his mind over the past few days was so provoking, that Chekov wanted it like this. He wanted Scotty to be the one to ravage him.

Scotty had never been a backdoor man, but the reactions he was getting as he prodded and moved inside of Chekov were so alluring that Scotty couldn't remember why he never thought it was hot. Chekov was completely exposed, on his knees between Scotty's, his body shuddering and undulating, his length leaking onto the grated walkway. And when Scotty found the bump that he assumed was his prostate, Chekov made a falling sound like a cry. Scotty's heart soared, feeling a jolt of arousal burn through his core.

Soon he was adding another finger, and then another. Chekov had to slow him between pants so he could adjust. He knew he would only need two fingers, but he let Scotty do three, because it was sexy how much Scotty was enjoying himself. Like working on a part of his ship, his hands naturally knew what to do to make it sing. Chekov was already rewriting his short career as a top.

Finally, Chekov couldn't take it anymore, and he pushed Scotty away from him and climbed on his lap. Lips open and rosy, Chekov lifted himself enough to find Scotty's head, then took hold of the handle above them. With Scotty's hands supporting his waist, Chekov slowly sank down.

Scotty's moan was louder than Chekov's.

"Oh... oh fuck, laddie.. Pavel!" He panted, making Chekov's head buzz with arousal.

Scotty was the perfect size. Chekov had never gotten this far with a man, but that was only because he was too intimidated by size. Scotty was beyond perfect. He fit just right, nestling against his prostate as Chekov sat in his lap, letting them both adjust.

If there was anything that had almost persuaded Scotty to try anal with previous girlfriends, it was hearing about how pleasurable and tight it was. Doing it with Chekov, he found out how true that was. He groaned when Chekov sat back up. And when he came back down, his backside flush against Scotty's balls, Scotty had clench hard not to come.

"Laddie.. Pavel...!" He breathed, "Ah, ye cannaet... ye caannae do tha'. A'm gunna come, laddie." He apologized, putting his hands on Chekov's hips to steady him.

Chekov tried to process that through the latest wave of pleasure. He sat still on Scotty while Scotty collected himself.

"Shit...shit, A'm sorry laddie. Ah havenae done this in a while..." He admitted.

But Chekov didn't looked heartbroken again. He knew what to do, "Okay, I wull do somezhing else."

"Wha...Ohh!" Scotty gasped, feeling Chekov tilt his hips. He was leaning himself so he could feel Scoty's length on his sweet spot. Chekov stayed still, breathing a little heavier.

"Touch me." He rasped.

Scotty didn't need to be told twice. He started fondling Chekov again. When Chekov tilted his head up, elongating his body in pleasure, Scotty leaned forward to suck his nipples. Chekov moaned. He didn't realize he'd started to move, but it was such a gentle, deep rocking that it didn't make Scotty's balls tighten as fast.

Scotty sighed in pleasure, "Tha's it, lad... oh, Pavel... Pavel..." He buzzed into Chekov's skin, feeling Chekov's hips move into his hands and onto his dick.

Chekov was shuddering and undulating as Scotty moaned. And after a few more minutes of that sweet rhythm, Scotty sputtered out a warning, "I... I'm coming laddie... ah, laddie..." But Chekov was so close that he didn't dare stop. He eyebrows were twisted up, gaping and mewling words Scotty didn't understand as his body moved flawlessly. And just like that, Scotty was coming. He seized up, feeling his balls tighten and release as he buried his seed into Chekov's firm body, moaning. A couple seconds later and he realized Chekov was coming, too, but he could barely hear him. Scotty had never come so perfectly, or for so long, in his life. He felt Chekov's heat spill over his hand and belly, distantly hearing him chant Scotty's name followed by more Russian. By the end of it, Scotty was so blissed out that he couldn't even tell when Chekov had stopped moving and laid against him, panting and sweating.

Tearing up slightly, Scotty put his arms around Chekov, kissing his temple. He didn't even mind that he had another man's come on him.

Finally, they both started to come to. Chekov began placing lazy kisses over Scotty's jaw and ear, humming blissfully in their shared glow. Scotty hugged him to him, smiling as he stirred. It felt a little cooler in there than before, and Chekov's body heat felt good.

Chekov gently pulled himself off of Scotty, letting him relax. Scotty took him into his arms, nuzzling his curly, damp hair.


"For what?" Scotty mumbled into his hair.

"I came all ower you." Chekov mused.

"Mhm." Scotty confirmed, "And it was sexy."

Chekov laughed softly, turning more to wrap his arms around Scotty, "We wull haff to clean eet up."

"Not yet." Scotty glanced at the temperature reading on the panel, "We can wait a few more degrees."

Chekov smiled, closing his eyes, "Eef you say so, ser."

Scotty chuckled happily.

They lay like that for a while, until finally Scotty had to admit it was getting a little cold. Chekov said something about how Russian winters sometimes get to -60 degrees Celsius, but Scotty had the distinct impression that he was lying.

Finally they began changing and cleaning up. Scotty used his undershirt to wipe things down and stuffed it in his back pocket, so that Chekov was now the only wearing one.

"Starting power down sequence."

"Aye." Chekov replied, back to back with Scotty once more.

"Three, two, one..."

They activated the panels, and the AC pipes went back to their usual faint whirring.

"And... switch to automatic controls."

Chekov did so, then the two of them headed back out through the narrow part of the Jefferies Tube.

Chapter Text

When Scotty and Chekov got out of the Jefferies Tube and back into the Engineering Bay, something felt off. After unnecessarily helping Chekov down, Scotty noticed that several ensigns were wearing extra layers. Scotty and Chekov exchanged apprehensive looks.

Suddenly, an ensign closer to Chekov's rank approached them, looking like he'd been bullied into doing so.

Scotty looked like his honeymoon had just been cut short, "Whit is it noo?"

"Um, sir, we uh... we seem to have another problem. No one knows what happened..."

"Oot wit' it!"

"Well the heating problem is fixed, but now we can't seem to keep the temperature up..."

Scotty and Chekov both went pale.

"But we're on it sir! We're trying our best so..."

"Don't... worry about it." Scotty sighed, holding his head.

The kid looked like he'd just been told the theory of gravity had just been disproven.

"Thare was a... technical problem in th' M/ARA." He cleared his throat and Chekov put on a knowledgeable face, "Mr. Chekov 'n' Ah fixed it, sae na harm dane. Th' temperature shuid balance oot in an 'our or two."

The kid still looked like String Theory had been disproven.

"Gi back tae work!"

The kid jumped, then walked briskly back to his team.

Scotty wouldn't look at Chekov until they were in the next area. He could feel Chekov's barely suppressed grin behind him.

They didn't get to the next area, however. They were stopped along the way by representatives of at least three other departments, all of whom Scotty knew were at the topmost of the ship. One of them was Lieutenant Uhura.

She was pissed, "Scotty! We've been looking everywhere for you. What has been going on down here? It's practically snowing upstairs!" She said, her musical voice sharp with annoyance.

"Oh relax, wull ye?" Scotty dismissed them all, pushing past them with Chekov, "Ye know it gets tae negative sixty degrees in Russia!"

Chekov opened his mouth, but all that came out was a surprised, "Yeah!"

Everyone seemed to take that as an answer and begrudgingly dispersed. Everyone except for Uhura. She followed like a jungle cat, right on Scotty's heel, "I'm serious, Montgomery! You know Jim had to bully Spock into one of Sulu's weird gay sweaters. Dr. McCoy laughed so hard he had to go on medical leave for twenty minutes!"

Scotty cracked up, "Ye dunnae knoo a thing, lassie, if ya think that makes me wantae fix it..."

Suddenly Uhura stopped dead in her tracks, causing Scotty and Chekov to both stop out of concern.

Uhura's gaze sharpened, "Why do you smell like sex?"

Scotty's expression opened up, dumb-founded. Chekov discovered he had an almost Vulcan-like poker face (except for his ears turning red).

"Wha... what?" Scotty yelled, "What are ye even insinuating, Lieutenant?"

"I'm serious!" He stomped her foot the same way she did when the Captain wasn't listening to her, "You smell like..." Her nose scrunched up, "Man sex. Jesus..."

"Listen, noone wishes tha' wur true as much as I do..." He said, "But Ah have serious work tae dae doon 'ere. APARENTLY we have a cooling problem noo."

Uhura frowned, unconvinced, but there was nothing more she could do, so she stormed away, "Just fix it, you guys!"

"A'll git tae it!" He hollered back.

Scotty glanced at Chekov, a little proud of himself, but he noticed Chekov looked ill, "Aw, A'm sorry, laddie." He put his hands on his shoulders and said in a hushed voice, "I shuid have keep track o' time in there..."

"I am not mad at you." He said quickly, "I just... " How could he say it? "I hawe newer slacked off on ze job before..." Was that right? Chekov tried to rephrase it, but Scotty was smiling.

"Ah, ye'll learn tae love it, believe me." He grinned, "Let's goo, we'll send a message up tae th' top 'n' let them knoo e'erythin's fyne." He assured him, looking slightly victorious, "For once th' bridge is freezing 'nd Engineering tis nice 'n' warm!" He laughed.

Chekov eyes widened, but he couldn't help but crack a smile.

"Yoo knoo how tae work a' this stuff, right?"

Chekov looked around, "Ah, yees!" He moved to a wall panel just like the one near his chair on the bridge. He opened up a link just to the captain, first.

"Ensign auzzerization code, zhree, foor, wuiktor, wuiktor, two."

Scotty's fingers went numb listening to that. Three of them specifically.

Captain Kirk's handsomely worn face suddenly appeared, framed by the rest of the helm, "Aye, Mr. Chekov. What's going on down there?" He asked curiously.

"Hullo, ser. I wanted to report zhat ze cooling problem should subside in approximately..."

Scotty held up two fingers.

"Two hours."

"What happened down there? Anything I should be worried about?"

", no ser. Eet was an error from fixing ze heating probleym."

"Ok, good." He said, "Can you make it one hour, ensign?"

Scotty waved his hands frantically to say no.

Chekov saw this, "Aye, ser"

"Good man. I'll send out a ship wide alert so you can get to it. Over and out."

Scotty groaned the second the communication ended, "Oy, laddie, what did ye dae this tae me for?"

Chekov looked resolute, "Eet eez our fault eez so cold, so we haff to fix it." He told him matter-of-factly, "I wull do eet myself eef I haff to."

Scotty groaned in compliance, "Ye'r lucky ye'r so good 'n th' Jefferies Tubes." He grumbled, messing up Chekov's curls as he passed to lead them out.

"Hey!" Chekov went red, grabbing his PADD and chasing after him.

Scotty had a conscience, sure. Maybe even more than most, but when it came to his work, he was more realistic than hopeful. As Chekov caught up to his side, Scotty thought maybe the kid's attitude would be good for him.

Chapter Text

Due to their recent task to fix the ship's temperature problem, Scotty and Chekov didn't have time to talk about what happened in the Jefferies Tube. But, to Chekov's relief, things weren't that awkward between them. The only weird thing Scotty was doing was once again doing way too much for Chekov that he could have done himself, including crawling into one of the narrower conduits to give the upper levels some extra heat while the AC leveled out. It was Chekov's idea to use the taps that still had higher readings due to the energy blunder days prior, and it was a bloody good idea at that. It meant fewer taps that had to be monitored for overflow while the levels eased down.

Chekov was directing Scotty through the conduit from a grid on his screen. He was used to piloting the ship, but this felt more like a rat in a maze experiment, "Go left..."

"What? A right?"

"No! A left! I deed not say ower. Ower. Aiyiyi. Go back. Now you want to go straight. O..."

"Ye and Ah both knoo tha's nae happening anytime soon."

Chekov gaped, looking over his shoulder to make sure no one heard that, "You cannot say zhat here! And you hawe to say ower. Ower!" But he just heard Scotty laughing to himself... until he hit his head on something.

"Ach, bloody, god, damn...!"

Chekov bit back a smirk, "You know zhis wood not haff happened eef you had just let me..."

"Ah can hear ye smiling, ye bastard. And ye almost caught fire in here because ye didnae listen tae me. A'm nae letting ye near an EPS tap for at least a week!"

Chekov rolled his eyes, "Fine." Then, "You were supposed to take a left back zhere. Ower."




Chekov was laughing.


Finally, the upper levels had stopped bitching about needing heat, and it was nearing the end of their shift. Scotty had Chekov run some documents up to Tech, only because Chekov forced him to let him do it. Scotty was swamped with ensigns at the moment so he begrudgingly gave up and allowed it. He got to watch Chekov go at least.

"OY! What dae ye want noo?" He yelled at the group.


When Chekov got to the next floor, he was relieved, and proud, to feel the temperature was almost back to normal. He dropped the documents off with one of Carol's two ensigns and headed back. It was around the time for the day shift to end, so there were a colored assortment of shirts in the elevator when Chekov went back down. He idly wondered where Carol was, but his question was answered for him once the doors open.

Carol's blonde, shiny hair and tall frame stood out amongst the shift replacements in Engineering Bay. She was talking to Scotty. Chekov decided to wait for them to finish before heading over. He wanted to ask Scotty to get diner with him, and the thought of doing it in front of Carol made him strangely anxious


"So what happened?" Carol asked insistently, "Nyota told me you and Chekov had an accident in the Reactor." She looked concerned, and for more than the sake of a few degrees drop in temperature where she worked.

Scotty was being very vague about it, making Carol's fears even worse, "It's nothing lassie, dunnae worry yer pretty head aboot it. We fixed it, didnae we?"

"Yeah, but. Scotty. Did something happen?" She gave him a serious look.

"Wh...what? Ye 'n' Nyota are tae suspicious. Look, nothing happened! 'n' dinnae let her convince ye otherwise." Scotty spotted Chekov and did a double take, "Noo, if ye'll excuse me." He strutted off towards Chekov.

Carol couldn't believe him.

"Hey laddie, sorry aboo' tha'." Scotty said, taking care of a few last items on his PADD, "Dinner?" He asked abruptly.

Chekov bit back a smile, "Yes. I'm starving."

"What, did th' candy in yer pockets melt earlier?"

Before Chekov could retort, they were both stopped again. This time, by Uhura.

Scotty jumped in surprise, "Ack! Ye'r worse than Keenser, th' both o' ye!" He caught his breath.

Uhura looked triumphant, "Scotty. McCoy said he's still having problems in his office. You'll have to go up and help him with it right away." She didn't bother disguising her smile.

Chekov's heart sank. Scotty glared at her, "So why send ye? He dinnae have any ensigns he cuid run doon 'ere?" He eyed her suspiciously.

Uhura turned her chin up, "I'm meeting someone down here, even though that's none of your business." She turned to Chekov pleasantly, "It'll be good to have you back Chekov, see you soon." She said warmly, then walked straight between them.

Scotty scoffed, "C'mon, laddie."

Chekov glanced over his shoulder before he and Scotty entered the elevator and saw Uhura put a hand on Carol's arm. Carol looked up and smiled.

Once the doors were shut, Scotty sighed, "Oy. Sorry lad, Ah guess oor dinner date will have tae be postponed."

Chekov could have guessed, but it was still a let-down to hear, "Aye." He mumbled.

"Aw, come oan noo." Scotty put an arm around him in the privacy of the elevator.

Chekov looked up in surprise.

Scotty chuckled nervously, "A'll let ye knoo as soon as A'm done. Maybe after, ah kin giv ye a toor o' my equipment..." Scotty paused, expression opening up suddenly, "Ach... Ah mean... in me engine room...ach... Nae like tha' laddie..." His hand dropped awkwardly. But before he could try rephrasing it again, the lift began to slow.

Chekov had no idea what Scotty was saying, but his body language was clear, "I wood lowe to." He replied, and before the doors could open, Chekov got up on his tiptoes and kissed Scotty on the cheek. He pulled back swiftly, leaving Scotty to stand rooted to the spot as the doors opened and a group of blue shirts walked in. "Send me an alert when yoo are done." Chekov bit his lips in a smile then disappeared as the doors closed.

Scotty wanted to stick his hands in the elevator doors, pry them open, and pounce on the kid. But he just stood awkwardly blushing in the middle of a group of science uniforms as the elevator went up.


Scotty had managed to get himself together by the time he got to Medical Bay. Although now, he was on a mission. He had to get back to his bonnie lass. Lad. That felt weird, but in all the right ways.

Scotty barged into the sterile, high-tech examination room. He always hated seeing the doctor. The smell of faint plastic and unfamiliar testing equipment gave him the chills, "Awright, whear's th' doctor?!"

Chapel sighed, not even having to turn around to know who was there, "He'll be right with you, sir, please take a seat in the waiting..."

"Nae! I mean McCoy! Where is he? Th' big..."

"Sit. Down." Chapel turned around, hand on one hip, the other brandishing a syringe full of green liquid.

Scotty hated needles. He backed down at once and sat on the nearest surface, a recently made medical bed.

Chapel sighed, eying him exhaustedly.

"I'm here, I'm here." A husky voice came in from a back room. McCoy came out in his blue Chief uniform. He had a rugged charm about him despite his clean shaven face and sterile appearance, required of him as the Chief of Medicine, but he looked like he'd been born with tired eyes. Compared to Scotty's, his accent was barely noticeable: a smoky, Southern drawl. He spotted Scotty at Chapel's mercy and smiled, making him look somehow look older and younger at the same time, "Thanks darling, I'll take it from here."

Chapel nodded gracefully and McCoy raised a hand to beckon Scotty in, "Alright, get in here and fix whatever the Hell you did to my office." He grumbled.

Scotty leapt to his feet, "Ah dinnae do an'thin'!" He followed him closely, "Yer th' only one who seems tae be having a problem. Ye know whit they say aboo'tha'..." But the minute he walked into the office, Scotty shivered, "Shet, it's cold in here!"

McCoy gave a stubborn laugh, "I know." He looked around moodily, "Now wouldja fix it? I have a lot of work to do tonight."

"Aye, aye." Scotty sighed. He moved to the control panel on the far wall as McCoy sat back down at his desk. He had a halo-panel set up like Chekov did, but the layout was entirely unique.

"Blast it all..." Scotty moved to the next panel.

"I already tried that one." McCoy mumbled, not looking up, "It's not the temperature dial..."

"Quit yer backseat driving."

McCoy sighed internally.

"Ah, bugger." Scotty moved to the next panel.

McCoy huffed a laugh.

Scotty bent down to inspect the ventilation, "A-ha! Thare's yer problem." His head popped up beside McCoy's desk, "Yer filter's jammed." He disappeared again, "I'll have this fixed in a jiffy!" Then he could go see Chekov...

"Good." McCoy grumbled, "Say, you haven't seen Uhura around your area lately have you?"

"Nae but a couple o' times, why?"

"I can't figure out where she's disappearing to..." He muttered to himself.

Scotty perked up a bit, "Yoo knoo, I hear she's been flirtin aroond with Ms. Marcus." McCoy skipped a line on his form and swore, "Couple o' minks they are." Scotty held back a snicker. That would teach them.

McCoy suddenly looked ill, "Ugh. I didn't want to know that."

"Then ye shuidnae have asked." Scotty replied, "Ye shuid also git yer filter replaced. Thing's got dents 'n' scratches e'rywhere."

"I'm a doctor, not a repairman." McCoy told him. Although Scotty distinctly heard him mumble something about "tribbles" under his breath.

Scotty finally stood up and cracked his back. That didn't take long at all! "Aye, she's all fixed..."

But before he could go on, they both heard an ominous squeaking coming from somewhere in the heating pipe. Scotty and McCoy both looked at each other. McCoy knew that sound, "Oh Hell." He got up, looking furious.

McCoy got between Scotty and the pipe, who skittered away with an ignored "Oy...!". McCoy took the filter off, tossing it aside, "Well thare's why it's damaged. Yoo knoo..." McCoy stuck his arm deep into the pipe, now filling with warm air.. and pulled out two or three small, fluffy looking sacks.

McCoy stared at it victoriously; Scotty stared in horror, "Wha's tha'?"

"Chapel!" McCoy bellowed, "Seal airway five! Again!"


"A tribble, man!" McCoy brandished them at him.

Scotty leapt back, even though the tribbles just cooed pleasantly in McCoy's hand.

McCoy slapped them onto his desk. They nestled up happily in a pile.

"Well wha' are they doin' in here?"

"The bastards get everywhere if we don't seal the lids all the way. Uhura thinks they're like space rabbits, but I say they're more like space octopus. Deranged, horny, octopus..."

"Isnae octo-pi?"

"Oh don't go all Spock on me, help me seal the pipe!"

Scotty rushed to McCoy's side. Between the two of them, they managed to seal off McCoy's office, effectively ruining Scotty's few minutes of work prior. But at least they'd prevented an infestation. Chapel called through the door saying there must have only been what McCoy found: Three.

"Alright, I can handle three." He said tensely

Scotty was sweating now.

But when they turned back to the desk, the tribbles were gone.

McCoy and Scotty swore at the same time.

Scotty and McCoy spent the next hour running throughout Medical Bay, hunting down three fluffy little space octopi. By the time they caught them, there were five; Two of them were slightly smaller. Scotty and McCoy were both out of breath, sitting gingerly in two waiting chairs in the exam room while Chapel and a few other blue shirts found tanks for all five tribbles. They looked like they'd just had a lovely adventure and were cooing blissfully in Chapel's arms. For a split second, Scotty actually thought they looked cute. One of the little ones was spotted like a fuzzy red cow.

"That was a close one." McCoy said.


"How about a drink?"


McCoy pulled out two glasses in his office and poured them both a fifth of whiskey from under his desk. Scotty swallowed his gladly, "Ah... ye sure knoo th' way tae a jimmy's hear'."

McCoy gave him a tired look, sipping his glass and enjoying the bite, "I don't want to hear about it."

Scotty laughed, then, "Ah gottae say, Ah like tae '82 better. Less flavor." McCoy's brow furrowed, "Ah like my whisky tae have her way wit' me then leave me in an all..."

McCoy interrupted him, "Did you say the '82?" He gave him a strangely Spock-ian look that Scotty decided not to point out.

The '82 was the bottle Carol had given to him. Straight from McCoy's stock, "Well, uh... she was juist doin' me a favour..." He confessed, "Dunnae be mad wit' th' lassie..."

McCoy frowned at him, "I suppose you're right." He finished his glass then poured another, "...So if I catch you with my whiskey again," He leaned forward menacingly, "I'll stuff you so full of tribbles you won't be able to do anything but squeak." He sipped his glass.

Scotty looked horrified. Finally, apologetically, he replied, "Ah... ah dunnae swig tha' way, doctor..."

McCoy stared at him. For a moment he looked like he was going to get angry. But then he laughed; A warm chuckle as he sipped his drink.

Scotty laughed, too, "So, wha's this ah hear aboo Mr. Spock ina sweater?"

McCoy eyes widened, "Oh..." He smirke, setting his glass down, "I'll tell you about it."

The two of them were laughing heartily as McCoy retold the story. Apparently it had gotten so cold on the Bridge that the captain was allowing the crew to take brakes to get warmer clothes. Sulu came back with three sweaters and spent the whole time reminiscing about beaches and tropical foods. Spock refused to take a break, insisting he was fine, but when the captain finally caught him shivering, his ears turning green, he ordered him to take one of Sulu's sweaters. Sulu gave him a grey and red one, which he said brought out Spock's eyes, and McCoy had to go back to Medical Bay because he swore he was going to give himself a hernia trying not to laugh. He told Scotty that Spock looked like a Christmas elf.

Scotty was on his third glass before he remembered Chekov. He nearly broke his glass he gripped it so hard. He thanked McCoy for letting him "tap his faucets", insisting he was late for something.

"What, got a hot date?" McCoy joked as he put Scotty's glass aside.

Scotty went a little too red at that for McCoy's liking, "Ah wish." He joked back, heading out the door, "And replace tha' filter!"

McCoy waved him off, resuming his work, and his drink.

Chapter Text

Scotty tried contacting Chekov the moment he left Medical Bay, but Chekov must not have been near his communicator. So Scotty rushed to the first panel he saw on the way to Engineering.

"Locate crew member Chekov." He spat.

The panel blinked as it processed the request, then showed a map of one of the bunker areas with a red dot for Chekov.


Scotty ran back the other way, opposite of Engineering. That must've been Chekov's room. Scotty had never thought to find out where it was when they were working together. Scotty sort of felt bad about that. He'd been so enamored with the kid he practically shunned him.


The second floor rooms were where some of the bridge crew slept, so they'd be closer to top of the ship. The captain, first officer, and chiefs all had rooms on the first floor, including Scotty, but Scotty never slept in his. It was too far from Engineering. He wondered how Chekov did it while he was Chief in Scotty's stead.

He made it to Chekov's room and pressed the buzzer, panting. He wasn't expecting Sulu to open to door.

"Oh, hello Mr. Scotty." Sulu looked perplexed, "To what do we owe..."

"Whit are ye doin in Chekov's room?" He burst.

Sulu paused, "Um..."

"Eet eez okay, let him in."

Sulu moved aside, letting Scotty in curiously. When Scotty saw Chekov sitting on the bottom of a bunk bed, he felt like a proper idiot, "Ach, right. Sorry about tha'..."

Sulu smiled, understanding the confusion, "No worries." But then, a thought occurred to him, "Is everything okay in Engineering?"

Chekov looked up at that.

"Aye... aye! Ah just wanted tae have a word wit' P... Chekov is all."

Chekov's eyes widened slightly, "Ah, yees." He got up before Sulu could connect the pieces, "I'll be back later." He said to Sulu, getting his shoes on.

Sulu sat back down at a desk with a few small plants and an even smaller pair of scissors, "Alright, see you." He smiled at them cheerily.

Chekov grinned gratefully and walked Scotty out of the room.

The hall was practically empty. "Sorry aboo' tha'." Scotty mumbled once they were a good distance away.

Chekov walked beside him, "Eet eez okay. I zhought yoo were busy, so..."

Scotty stopped him, putting his hands on his shoulders gently, "A'm sorry laddie. Ah got caught up."

Chekov put his hands on Scotty's, looking up at him uncertainly.

Scotty's heart did flip in his chest, "Do ye, still wan'tae... go oot wit' me?"

Chekov bit his lips. He nodded.

Scotty breathed a smile, "Guid! Guid... um." Scotty licked his lips. Chekov was so close to him. They were almost nose to nose...

Footsteps echoed around the corner and Scotty and Chekov broke away quickly. A yellow shirt passed by.

"Ah, okay, let's goo." Scotty said, leading the way.

Chekov caught up to him, walking a little more rigid than usual. Once they got into the empty elevator, they both relaxed.

"So, does Mr. Sulu knoo ye'r, uh... yoo knoo..."

Chekov looked at Scotty, "Why? Are you jealous?" He smiled.

Scotty blinked, "Wha? Nae! O' course naw." He brushed it off, but he was turning a little red.

Chekov's smiled widened.

Whatever awkwardness between them was cleared by the time the elevator doors opened to Engineering Bay. Hell, Scotty had a hard time keeping his hands off of Chekov around the night crew.

"...Yoo shuid have heard it. He said Spock looked like a Christmas Elf..."

Chekov was laughing. Scotty couldn't get enough of that angelic sound.

"So where are we going?" Chekov asked curiously.

Scotty suddenly stopped, embarrassed, "Ah, sorry, laddie, I shuid have asked." He took a breath, "Do ye wannae goo back tae my room wit' me?" That didn't sound nearly as lecherous out loud. Scotty was relieved, and then even more so when Chekov said yes.

"Ha, guid." Scotty relaxed, leading him beneath the power pipes and through the tunnel to the door. He swore at it, suddenly feeling bad for having such in inappropriate password. Although one glance at Chekov's amused face wiped away that concern.


Chekov went from amused to awed as they stepped inside. The last time Chekov had been there, he couldn't really admire the set-up; He had been so sweaty and uncomfortable and focused on seducing Scotty. This time, he was at least not sweaty and uncomfortable.

Chekov's eyes went from the organized waves of cords hanging from the ceiling, the pipes interweaving through handmade power boxes, the clear-tubed plasma grid behind the multitude of screens, even the hand rigged outlets and power strips on the floor. It was most creative efficiency Chekov had ever seen, and the use of clear wiring and panels made it feel like you really were drifting through space; there was a sheen of blue and purple glow, with spots of star-like green shining through here and there.

Scotty beamed with pride as Chekov finally laid eyes on the main power source. It was the largest source of light (aside from a lamp near the bed): a vertical, luminescent tube of plasma. Chekov's eyes lit up with curiosity as he moved toward it, "Does zhis feed right from..."

"The Bussard ramscoop, yup." Scotty grinned.

The Bussard ramscoop was attached at the end of the nacelles, and collected hydrogen from space to make matter for the reactor. Scotty had set it up so that any surplus went to his own personal power supply before being recycled.

"You are a genius!" Chekov gaped. He examined the numbers ticking away beside it. It would have appeared as nothing but a quiet hum on the ship's power grid, but that hum was enough to keep Scotty aware of the location of every ounce of electro-plasma used on the ship, and able to shut it down at an emergency's notice.

Scotty was blushing like a school girl.

"Does ze keptin know about zhis?" Chekov turned to Scotty in awe.

Scotty smiled impishly, "A little. He suspected me at one point, but after ah sealed off th' cabin tha' our friend Khan was in, awl while Ah was on th' toilet, Jim dinnae ask any more questions." He winked.

Chekov was star-struck again.

Scotty began to feel nervous. He tried to shake it off, but images were forming in his head. Images of Chekov, bent over the control panel beside the power tube... Yeah, he wanted to Bussard ram Chekov's coop. For a brief moment, he was worried Chekov could read his mind, but Chekov didn't have to. All he had to do was look down.

Scotty was starting to get erect.

Scotty saw this and turned red, "Ah, sorry! Ach, tha's just... inappropriate, A'm sorry, lad..."

But Chekov was smiling. An impish smile of his own that just made Scotty even worse off. Chekov leaned back onto the control panel, safely sealed by a pane of clear plastic. He hopped up onto it, leaning against the warmth of the power tube, "Do you want to buck me here?" He used Scotty's word for it, hoping he would enjoy it.

Scotty was almost fully erect in a matter of seconds. He couldn't even get out a 'yes' before he was moving forward, between Chekov's legs, and kissing him.

Chekov put his arms around Scotty, pulling him close so his erection would press against Chekov's backside. Scotty groaned appreciatively, moving his hands through Chekov's curls. Who knew making out could be so hot?

Chekov's hands snuck up Scotty's shirts and began hoisting them off. Scotty helped take them off, along with his undershirt, then got to work on Chekov's. Chekov's shirts joined Scotty's on the floor. Scotty couldn't get over how smooth and firm Chekov felt. He pulled him to his chest, feeling Chekov's hands all over him. Scotty was too distracted to be embarrassed this time.

...Until Chekov's hands moved to Scotty's pants. Chekov jumped a little in surprise, "What was zhat?" He looked down. Scotty lifted his arms reflexively. His eyes widened, and he laughed.

Scotty reached down and pulled a tiny, red spotted tribble out of his pocket. Chekov stared in surprise. Scotty was still laughing to himself as he handed it to him, "Ah thought ye might be mad at me." Chekov took the tribble in his hands, wide-eyed, "Do ye like it?" Scotty put his arms back around Chekov. The tribble was purring in its sleep.

Chekov was speechless, watching the sleeping tribble for a moment before... he smiled, "I lowe it." Scotty was beaming again. Chekov let the tribble snooze on one of his shirts beside them. He looked back to Scotty slightly, "Should we, uh... in front of it...?"

Scotty chuckled flirtatiously, "He's fine..." He said, kissing Chekov softly. Tribbles were the biggest perverts in the universe, as far as Scotty was concerned. Chekov didn't complain as Scotty kissed and nibbled at his ear, relaxing him again, "So... where were we... " Scotty smiled, reaching down to undo his pants. Being surrounded by his machines  seemed to give him a confidence boost, and Chekov was eager to bring it out even more.

He watched hazily as Scotty's pants fell to the floor, enjoying the view beneath. He parted his lips in arousal at the familiar shape beneath Scotty's boxer-briefs. Chekov helped him take those off, too, slipping his fingers beneath the waistline and easing them down.

Any remaining hesitancy about showing himself off faded as Chekov leaned forward and kissed Scotty's bare chest. Chekov's hands roamed over his skin curiously, feeling and caressing down his body, and finally, to his length. The simple touch was enough to get a pleasured breath out of Scotty, who put his hands on Chekov's shoulders to steady himself. Chekov kissed up to his collar bone as he began stroking his length. Scotty groaned, no longer giving a damn about standing buck naked between an eighteen-year-old's legs.

But it wasn't long before, "Laddie..." He breathed, gently calling his attention back, "I cannae last as long as ye." He apologized, fully erect his Chekov's slender but firm hands.

But Chekov wasn't upset or confused. He kissed Scotty so lightly, Scotty thought he might float away. He was grounded once more, however, by feeling Chekov's hands move to his own still fastened pants. Chekov slid forward a bit to remove his uniform pants and boxers. Red this time. Scotty grinned with a flash of pride. His grin was replaced by longing when the remainder of Chekov's clothes hit the floor, and he sat, perfectly exposed and beautiful, before Scotty.

"Eez zhis better?"

Scotty nodded numbly, "Aye." He moved his slightly larger, rougher hands over Chekov's thighs, getting a rush as Chekov spread them a little more. Chekov had never gotten so much pleasure from acting like a bottom. It was intoxicating with Scotty. He reacted perfectly. Scotty felt up to Chekov's V, loving the way his young body responded to even the slightest touch. Before he could touch him where he wanted, though, Chekov asked a question.

"Will you... um, do you want to..." For the first time, Chekov looked slightly embarrassed.

If anyone had asked Scotty, not five minutes ago, if he'd ever considered giving another man a blow-job, he would've been offended. But now, with Chekov exposed like this, offering himself up, Scotty couldn't help himself. He wanted to taste every bit of him.

"Aye." He whispered, putting his hands back on Chekov's thighs.

Chekov swallowed, watching Scotty's head go down. And when he felt that tight, wetness envelope him, Chekov shuddered and gasped. He tilted his head back, leaning on his hands with his legs spread as Scotty's head moved. Chekov could tell Scotty had either never done this, or hadn't in a while; He kept stopping and doing something different. While all of that was true, Scotty just really couldn't get enough of Chekov. Finally, he brought a hand down to hold Chekov at his base, and took him as far into his mouth as he could.

Chekov moaned tightly, giving Scotty another burst of confidence. He loved watching Chekov's stomach tighten. He loved listening to his chest rise and fall. He loved the soft breaths and pants and little things he'd say in Russian. Scotty couldn't quite find a good rhythm, but Chekov didn't seem to mind. Especially when Scotty realized there was a whole lot more he could be doing, and began fingering him as well.

Chekov glanced down when Scotty dropped him for a moment, but in the next, he understood why. Scotty was slipping a slickened finger into him as he took him back into his mouth. Chekov moaned, partly from what Scotty was doing, but partly because Scotty decided to do it himself. Chekov lay back against the panel, placing a hand on Scotty's head as he felt him exploring every inch of him below. When Scotty found that spot, however, Chekov arched off the panel, nearly shoving himself down Scotty's throat. Scotty sputtered and stopped.

"Soorry!" Chekov gasped, looking down in concern.

"Braw, braw." Scotty wiped his mouth, glancing up at him. Oh. Chekov was a mess. A sexy mess. His body was shaking, panting, pupils blown. Scotty just about came at the sight, "Oh, Pavel..."

Chekov tried to respond, but it was weak, "Aye?"

"Nae, nothing. Juist relax." Scotty cooed, then took him back into his mouth.

Chekov whined in pleasure, laying back against the panel, "Ah... if you keep doing that..."

Scotty kept doing it. He kneaded and massaged that spot as he sucked him, making Chekov's head spin. Chekov didn't even realize he'd inserted another finger. His breath was leaving him in desperate sighs and gasps. Soon, Scotty couldn't take it anymore,  and he pulled off of him again. He stood up, chest heaving as he set his length hastily at Chekov's entrance.


"Aye?" He paused.

"Do you have any lube?" Chekov breathed.

"Uh... aye." Scotty looked around. He nearly tripped over their clothes.

Chekov laughed weakly.

Scotty came back quickly with a couple of things. A condom ("Cannae be too safe, righ'?"; Chekov smiled) and a lubricant that looked like it was more for machines than humans, ("Dunnae worry, A've bin covered in th' stuff"; Chekov made a note to ask why later). Scotty applied both to himself, and then was back at Chekov's entrance, "Ready?"

"Aye." Chekov swallowed.

Scotty gripped Chekov's thighs and began pushing in.

Chekov moaned, tossing his head back with a raspy, "Da.", and Scotty had to focus all his energy on not bucking into him. He could feel Chekov's body opening up around him, engulfing him deep into his heat.

"Ohh...laddie." Scotty sighed once he was flush against Chekov's ass. He let them both breathe for a moment, just feeling Chekov's perfect body surrounding him. He could practically feel him breathing. In that moment, Scotty had never felt so close to anyone in his life. Once he caught Chekov's eye again, he started moving.

Chekov sighed blissfully as Scotty pulled out and slowly pushed back in. He raised his arms to grip a piece of equipment, his legs spread around Scotty's midsection. Scotty loved it. He felt  up Chekov's body as he found a steady pace to thrust.

Scotty was the perfect size. He pressed up against all the right places and made Chekov melt against the control panel, "Da..." Chekov mumbled, "Right there."

Scotty couldn't believe he was doing this. The sight of Chekov's slavic body stretched out on his the control panel of his ship, panting and moaning as Scotty thrust into him... it was the sexiest thing Scotty had ever seen. At some point, between looking at their entry point and the ship's panel, Scotty noticed the framed photo of the Enterprise beside them, and apologetically tipped it down.

Much too soon, he felt his release beginning to well up inside him.

"Pavel..." Scotty panted.

Chekov understood, "Da..." He took one of Scotty's hands and guided it around Chekov's length, pumping himself with Scotty's hand.

Scotty groaned, absentmindedly bucking a little harder. But it made Chekov arch off the panel again and groan back. It was beautiful. So when Chekov's hand stuttered, overwhelmed by pleasure, Scotty took over completely, bucking into him and pumping him, getting wave after wave of pleasured moans. Once he heard the kid slip into Russian, his voice a beautiful tenor, Scotty knew it was over.

Scotty closed his eyes and came with a heated moan, hips stuttering into Chekov's ass as he buried himself to the hilt. He could feel Chekov orgasm within seconds, tightening up and pulsing around him. It only helped Scotty finish. He kept pumping Chekov and Chekov moaned gratefully. He even seemed to like it after he finished. But Scotty was exhausted. He had a half a mind to just sleep on the control panel, embedded in Chekov. His lover.

Scotty sighed exhaustedly, but happily. He leaned on the panel with his elbows and buried his face in Chekov's chest. Chekov put his arms around him as they both caught their breath. The smell of Chekov's skin mixed with sweat and sex was amazing.

When they were both seeing straight, Scotty pulled out and helped Chekov up. After cleaning Chekov off, they collapsed on Scotty's bed, Chekov laughing as they got tangled up.

Scotty half heartedly pulled the sheets up over them. It was so warm in there that neither one of them cared if it was perfect. Scotty lay on Chekov with an arm around him, Chekov cuddled up against him, absentmindedly kissing Scotty's neck.

Scotty smiled, his eyes closed, "You ar th' sexiest thing since dual-nacelle engines."

Chekov laughed softly, "So are you."

Scotty's smile slowly faded. He looked down to Chekov's face, so angular and perfect, "Pavel..."

Chekov looked up at him, eyes heavy.

"Are ye... " Scotty started hesitantly, "Are ye shur ye wouldnae rather be wit' someone... closer tae yer own age?" He asked. He didn't like how many of his insecurities were coming up with Chekov around, but he wanted the best for him, so he had to ask.

"Aye." Chekov said, voice raspy, "You are perfect."

Scotty couldn't help but smile, "Are... are ye su..."

Chekov kissed him softly, "Aye. You can buck me anytime."

Scotty grinned. He pulled Chekov in closer. But then, a thought came to mind, "Laddie, how'd ye knoo wha' tha' meant?" He asked curiously. He knew Chekov had overheard that conversation, but suddenly parts of Chekov's story wasn't making sense.

For some reason, that question made the sleep disappear from Chekov's eyes. He looked up at Scotty tentatively, "Well..." He readjusted himself a little, just to look at Scotty better, "I hawe a confessun to make..." He said, "I... took zhe security file from zhe room you and Ms. Marcus were in. To translate it."

Scotty raised his eyebrows in surprise.

Chekov's eyebrows came together, "I know eet was wrong, but... when I owerheard you, I zhout you were saying you did not like me, and I..." Chekov started to feel that insecurity again. That confusion. And Scotty being so quiet wasn't helping, "I wanted to know why." He said, suddenly feeling scared, "Are you... mad at me?"

Scotty blinked, "Nae...nae, laddie." His voice was calm, "Ah juist... you cuild have come talk tae me."

"I know." Chekov looked down, "I zhout of zhat but... you newer seemed to want to talk wiz me." He admitted.

Scotty felt bad. Chekov was right. He'd been so overcome by Chekov right away, he avoided talking to him out of panic, "It's okay, laddie." He caressed the side of Chekov's face. That pout of his that looked so sexy the other day now threatened to break Scotty's heart, "Ye'r right, I didnae talk tae ye much when I came back." He explained, "But tha's only cuz Ah was crazy aboo ye right from th' start."

Chekov glanced up at him unsurely.

Scotty smiled, "I think ye were seventeen. Ye'd juist saved my ship. And, laddie, Ah gotta be honest with ye..." Chekov watched him, "Ah wanted to bend ye over tha' navagation panel and screw ye for days..." At Scotty's near laughter, Chekov couldn't help it. Eyes wide in surprise, he laughed, too, "Ah... Ah thought ah was goin' tae Hell, laddie." Chekov was smiling now.

"Zhat is... wery romantic." Chekov said, making Scotty laugh next.

"What can Ah say? A'm lover not a fighter." He pulled Chekov close, who conformed to his shape gladly. Scotty kissed the top of his curly head, "Are ye made at me, lad?"

Chekov shook his head, "No."

"Guid. Cuz A'm crazy aboo ye."

Chekov smiled, kissing Scotty affectionately. Scotty kissed him back.

They lay like that for a while, just basking in each other's warmth and the glow of countless machines and star-like lights. Until Chekov remembered something, "Oh!" He moved to get up. Scotty let him, and saw that he was going back to the control panel. Scotty bit back a smile at the sight of his backside, and a little bit of blue lube sneaking down his leg. Chekov came back cradling the spotted tribble, who was now squeaking softly, "What do you call him?" Chekov asked.

"I dunnae." Scotty pulled Chekov back into bed, fixing the covers so he could spoon Chekov beneath them, "What do ye want tae call him?"

Chekov turned on his back with the tribble resting on his chest, snuggling up in Scotty's arms. He thought about it. Scotty loved to watch his mind spin behind those heavy lidded, ocean blue eyes. Finally his lips formed the word: "Peeyat."

Scotty blinked, "Wha' kinda name..."

"Eet means fleck." Chekov said, "He has little flecks, like a cow."

Scotty's expression softened as he looked at the thing, "It does look like a littl' coo."

The little red space cow hummed happily. Scotty petted it, then he petted Chekov. Chekov laughed, turning towards Scotty, and was greeted with a kiss. They lay like that, talking quietly, until all the three of them dozed off beneath the soothing hums and whirs of the ship.

Chapter Text

Chekov woke up a little disoriented. He wasn't used to seeing so many lights first thing after opening his eyes, or the glowing plasma conduit, or Scotty, naked and snoring on top of him. Chekov smiled sleepily. Despite all of the new sensations, however, Chekov had the distinct impression that something was missing. He looked around slowly.


Peeyat was missing!

Chekov tried to move Scotty so he could find the little tribble, and it turned out to be very easy. Scotty was heavy sleeper. He grunted something about a planet full of ensigns (must've been a nightmare, Chekov thought), then rolled over and continued snoring.

Chekov let out a breath and got up quickly. He searched Scotty's room, checking inside every pipe and crevasse, when suddenly he heard an unfamiliar cough. Chekov turned around.

It was Keenser, holding the little tribble with one hand and covering his eyes with the other.

Oh. Right. Chekov was naked. He blushed, grabbing a towel and putting it around his waist as he took his tribble back, "Zhank you." He said softly.

Keenser gave him a thumbs up and hobbled away. Chekov looked at the tribble, "Do not wander off like zhat." He scolded him, but the tribble just hummed happily in his palm. It was bigger than last night. Full grown, Chekov thought.

Chekov tossed the towel aside and got back in bed.


About an hour later, Scotty woke up. He noticed how early it was, and vaguely recalled falling asleep early. But he couldn't remember why. That is, until he rolled over and saw Chekov in his bed.

The kid was sleeping on his back, naked, the tribble Pratrat or whatever snuggled against his neck. Scotty beamed, putting an arm around his slender, freckled body, and kissed him.

Chekov stirred softly. Scotty would've felt bad for waking him, but Chekov kissed him back so softly that Scotty couldn't help but put an arm around him and snuggle close.

"Good morning." Chekov rasped.

Scotty smiled wide, "Aye. It is."

Chekov smiled back.

They kissed sleepily, basking in each other's morning glow.

"Did ye sleep well?"

Chekov nodded, then glanced down to find Peeyot.

Scotty chuckled, "He's a cutie, Ah'll give him that." He said, then raised a brow, "Did he get bigger over night?"

Chekov petted the tribble absentmindedly, "Aye, I zhink he eez full grown now."

Scotty was suddenly doubting his amazing plan to win Chekov over with a fuzzy, cute pet, "Well... keep an eye on him." He asked.

Chekov put an arm around Scotty, "I woud razzer keep an eye on you..." He murmured, kissing him smoothly.

Scotty never thought he'd be one to swoon, but there he was, swooning. Who knew Chekov was so good at flirting? Scotty thought. No wonder the alien girls were all over him.

He lay with Chekov like that for a while, just kissing him, and being kissed back. It was heaven. Until...

Scotty's stomach growled. For a moment, he thought it was the tribble, but the he remembered he had skipped dinner, "Ach... sorry, laddie." He broke the kiss, "What do yea say we goo get some breakfast?" He offered, intertwining his hand with Chekov's.

"Okay." Chekov smiled. He was starving, too.

They both got dressed, kissing and touching each other like newlyweds. Scotty couldn't remember the last time he'd been so unable to keep his hands off of someone.


When they got to the cafeteria, it was mostly empty, except for a few lingering night crewmen. Scotty got them both breakfast, a little bit of everything, since he knew how much Chekov liked to eat.

Scotty was surprised to find that Chekov didn't really drink coffee.

"How do yea get all that damn energy then?" Scotty commented.

Chekov shrugged, letting Peeyot nibble on strawberries from inside Chekov's shirt sleeve.

When they were finished, they still had an hour before the start of their shift, so they went back to Scotty's room to relax. Scotty watched as Chekov lounged in his operator's chair by the panels, watching the numbers. He laughed when he realized Chekov had snuck an apple from the cafeteria and was absentmindedly sharing it with Peeyot.

"Careful..." Scotty said, scootching into Chekov's chair with him, "If it eats as much as ye, it might start reproducing."

Chekov grinned, positioning himself lazily in Scotty's lap, "I can still eat zhat much zhough, right?"

Scotty chuckled, "Only if I get the same result." He flirted.

Chekov bit his lips happily, kissing Scotty, "We kin not reproduce." He informed him.

"Nae, I suppose ye'r right." Scotty sighed, "We shuid still keep up th' effort, though."

Chekov laughed, loving the feel of Scotty's hands on him, "I want to take a shower beffor work." He said between kisses.

Scotty felt his heart sink a little, "Ye kin gae back tae yer room if ye'd like." He tried to sound offhand.

Chekov paused, "I do not zhink my shower eez big enuff for ze both of us."

Scotty blinked, "Uh..." He laughed nervously. Chekov was hitting on him again. He wanted to shower with him, "Well in that case..." Feeling a surge of excited energy, he stood up, scooping Chekov up in his arms.

Chekov laughed as Scotty brought them both to the bathroom, "You do not haff to carry me!" But Chekov was enjoying himself far too much to protest beyond that.

Scotty let Chekov down in the bathroom, kissing him warmly against the bathroom door. Before they could get too carried away, “Ah’ll get th’ water gooin’.” He winked, leaving Chekov feeling windblown and happy against the door.

Scotty got the water nice and hot while Chekov sat on the sink. Then Scotty moved between his legs, kissing him while they helped each other get undressed. The tribble Peeyot got to nest in Chekov's shirt once more as Scotty helped Chekov into the shower.

The shower was the perfect size for two. Chekov didn't need to put his arms around Scotty to fit under the water, but he did anyway, making Scotty smile as the water umbrella-ed over them.

"Ye knoo... when ye came in here tae shower th' other day, this was awl Ah was thinkin' aboo'." Scotty smiled.

"Oh, zhat's good."

Scotty paused, "Are ye sayin' ye did awl tha' on purpose?"

Chekov gave him a sheepish look.

Scotty's mouth open, a smile tugging at his lips, "Ye schemin', allurin', sexy bastard..." Scotty playfully backed him against the shower wall, "Ye really were hittin' on me this whole time?"

Chekov smiled, putting his arms over Scotty's shoulders, "Aye. I zhought I wuz being wery obvious, too."

Scotty wanted to hit himself. He hadn't been imagining it after all! "Oh laddie, ye make me think such awful things..."

Chekov smiled impishly, "Zhat's good, too."

Scotty growled playfully, dipping down to kiss Chekov's neck.

Chekov laughed, leaning his hips off of the wall and into Scotty. He turned his head to kiss him back, feeling Scotty slowly lean into him against the wall, kissing his skin with growing hunger, "What are we going to say to Ms. Marcoos?"

"Ah dunnae. Maybe tha' Ah made love to ye in the shower?"

Chekov thought about playfully, "I like eet."

Scotty smiled and slipped his hands down to Chekov's backside, bringing their bodies together as he kissed him deeply.

Chekov was so easy to kiss, and he kissed back perfectly. Scotty couldn't get enough of him; the feel of his lips, of his tongue slipping into his mouth, his taste... “Laddie…” He said, voice husky against Chekov’s lips, “What is it ye always say in Russian when we make love?”

Chekov had to think about it. The feeling of Scotty’s teeth and hands on him made it difficult to think at all, “I zhink… ‘more’… ‘do not stop’… um…” Chekov smiled, feeling Scotty lean into him more, “Wood you like me to speak English zhis time?”

“Nae.” Scotty smiled, his hand sneaking down between Chekov's buttocks and stroking his entrance.

Chekov shivered pleasantly, responding with a soft sigh. He widened his stance a little, then brought his hand between their bodies.

Scotty felt him take both of their erections into his hand, fondling them together. Scotty moaned softly into the kiss. He grabbed some soap behind Chekov's back, working a slight lather before using that to slip a finger into Chekov's body.

Chekov's breath hitched, and he moaned beautifully. Scotty repositioned himself to give Chekov's hand better access to their lengths before gently thrusting his finger in and out of Chekov. Chekov hummed happily into the kiss, his hand matching Scotty's rhythm.

Being fondled against Chekov's length felt surprisingly good. Before Scotty knew it, he was gently rocking his hips into Chekov's as he fingered him, his other hand massaging Chekov's backside.

By the sounds of things, Chekov was enjoying it just as much. He gasped softly and shuddered when Scotty began massaging his entrance as he fingered him.

"Ye like that?" Scotty asked softly.

Chekov rested his head against Scotty's neck with an appreciative, "Aye."

With a thrill of pride, Scotty kept it up, earning a pleasured moan as he added another finger.

Chekov's hand wasn’t concentrating as much, so Scotty moved it in favor of gently rutting his hips against Chekov's. He found a nice spot that had their lengths rubbing together in the water, and rested his head on Chekov's as he felt and listened to his breathing get heavier.

Scotty was three fingers in when Chekov asked, voice breath with pleasure, "Do yoo want to do eet from behind zhis time?"

Scotty wasn't sure about that. He liked seeing Chekov's face. Something about doing it from behind made him feel like more of a pedophile. But he thought maybe it was a good idea in the shower.

"Let’s try it." He said back.

When he slipped out of Chekov and watched him turn around, arching his butt up for Scotty and panting softly over his shoulder, Scotty about lost his mind. He spread Chekov's backside, watching Chekov tremble in anticipation as Scotty soaped himself up and lined up.

Scotty pressed in slowly, and Chekov moaned against the shower wall. Scotty was right behind him, making the shower ring with their pleasure as he slid deeper and deeper. Chekov's hips were shaking, so when Scotty was deep enough, he folded himself over Chekov's body, pressing in against his back and intertwining their fingers against the shower wall.

The water rivulets felt amazing on Scotty's back, but nowhere near as amazing Chekov's body felt in his arms, or his heat clenching around him below. Scotty breathed against Chekov's neck, holding and kissing him softly as they got adjusted.

Scotty was afraid doing it this way would be impersonal, but the way their bodies fit together, and the way Chekov was breathing so close to Scotty's face, it was one of the most intimate experiences of Scotty's life. And even more so when he began to thrust.

They groaned in turn, Scotty as he thrust back in, and Chekov as he ran over his spot. Slowly, Scotty worked up a good rhythm, rocking their bodies together as he kissed and hummed into Chekov's cheek.

A thought occurred to him, and he left one of Chekov's hands to feel down his front. He was rewarded with a pleasured shiver, so he used both hands to roam over Chekov's prone body, making Chekov's breath pick up considerably.

He liked that, Scotty thought. So Scotty brought one hand down to fondle his length and balls, while he pulled his other arm back to massage Chekov's entrance as he thrust.

The sound Chekov made had Scotty's head white-out with bliss. Chekov's moaned tightly, whispering in Russian. Scotty felt a twinge of pride and kept it up, feeling and touching Chekov as he thrust deep inside of him, kissing the back his neck.

Chekov was already speaking in Russian, and Scotty had a feeling it was all for him.

Scotty picked up the pace, sliding into Chekov’s backside as he fondled and rubbed him, bringing out Chekov’s voice more and more. Scotty loved it. Soon he was panting, too, muttering to Chekov encouragingly.

Before Scotty knew it, Chekov was coming all over the shower wall, tightening up around him below. Chekov seemed surprised, but it only made Scotty's happiness soar.

"Oh, Pavel." Scotty murmured, as Chekov mumbled Scotty’s name over and over in ecstasy.

Chekov was beautiful when he came. He whole body shook, his chest pressed against the shower wall, arching into Scotty, "Ah...keep...keep going." He rasped.

Scotty wanted to, but... "Ye dunnae have tae..."

"I like it."

Oh. Scotty put his hands on Chekov's sides and kept thrusting. He was close himself, and knowing that the writhing Chekov's body was doing was in pleasure, and that Scotty got Chekov to come first, Scotty felt himself tip over the edge.

He pulled out to come, one hand pumping himself between Chekov's legs, the other spooning Chekov against him.

Scotty panted out his pleasure as Chekov spoke to him reassuringly, kissing him tenderly over his shoulder.

Scotty couldn't remember ever feeling so at peace. He collapsed against Chekov with a heavy, sated breath, the both of them leaning against the wall, and each other.

After a few moments, Scotty helped turn Chekov so they could be closer, holding each other in the warmth of the shower.

“Mm…” Chekov hummed, “Zhat was wery good.”

Scotty beamed with pride, “Aye, it was.” He kissed his curls.

Chekov was so relaxed, he didn’t even notice Scotty grabbing the shampoo and beginning to lather it up. He smiled as he felt Scotty began to wash his hair, sighing appreciatively. It felt good.

“You are wery gentlemanly.” Chekov complimented.

Scotty chuckled, “A proper gentleman takes care o’ his las… er, laddie.”

Chekov laughed, letting Scotty rinse the shampoo out.

“Hawe you ewer had a laddie befor?” Chekov asked curiously, taking some soap and beginning to lather it over their bodies.

“Nae. A’m ‘fraid not.” Scotty admitted. His face fell a little, “It’s ben a long time…” He said, pouring out some conditioner next, “Ah juist hope A’m as guid as what ye’r used to.”

Chekov didn’t look bothered at all by this, “Well, I hawe never, um… bottomed befor. So, you are actually zhe best.” He smiled sheepishly.

Scotty’s face fell completely, “What?” He looked at Chekov tragically. Chekov stared back, confused, “Tha’ was… in th’ Jefferies Tube… tha’ was ye’r first time?”

Chekov’s brows came together, “Aye?”

Scotty looked aghast. Not at Chekov, but at himself.

“Laddie! Why didnae ye tell me?” Scotty said, “Ah wuid of… I wuid have…” But before Chekov could say anything, Scotty was moving out of the stream of water, and getting down on one knee.

“What are you doing?”

“We gotta do thi’ right, laddie. Ah cannae believe A’ve ben misbehaving wit’ ye without a proper date!”

Chekov stared.

“Will ye, goo out wit’ me, Pavel?”

Chekov could feel himself blushing.

The whole situation was quite ridiculous. The both of them naked and soapy, Chekov’s hair a mess, Scotty’s shower wall covering in… well… love making. Chekov swallowed. And yet, this was the most romantic thing anyone had ever done for him.

“Aye.” He nodded, fighting off a smile.

“Guid! Guid.” Scotty beamed, standing back up, “Ach… Ah shuidnae even be seein’ ye like this, Ah…”

But Chekov shut him up with a kiss.

Scotty slowly relaxed, letting Chekov lean him against the wall, looping his arms around him smoothly.

“Do not be so anxious.” Chekov told him, “I want to be wiz you.”

Scotty’s expression relaxed into a smile, “Aye. Sorry, lad.”

Chekov kissed him again.

“Where should we go on our date?”

“Ah cannae tell ye that.”

Chekov eyed him curiously.

“It’s a surprise.” Scotty grinned, bringing his hands up to Chekov’s hair to rinse out the conditioner, “Can ye do it after work?” He asked, before Chekov could ask more questions.

Chekov looked at Scotty knowingly, a look that reminded Scotty of Carol, and of how much trouble he was going to be in. Scotty grinned.

“Aye.” Chekov conceded, eying Scotty playfully, “But I still get to kiss you, yes?”

“Well, Ah suppose…” He said, doing absolutely nothing to stop Chekov from kissing him on the cheek, then the lips.

They stood under the water, kissing and rinsing each other off, until they both agreed they had to get ready for their shift.

Chekov got dressed, wearing one of Scotty’s undershirts again. He tried to pester Scotty into telling him what their date was going to be, but Scotty was determined. Once they were both dressed, Peeyot tucked away in Chekov’s shirt, they headed up to Engineering Bay together, holding hands in the dark hallway.

Chapter Text

Scotty and Chekov had to stop holding hands when they got to Engineering Bay, but they were otherwise inseparable for the rest of their shift. The ship's temperature was back to normal (Scotty celebrated saying he'd wouldn't have to see Uhura for the rest of the week), energy levels were nearly stabilized, and Engineering Bay had never been running so smoothly. Even the ensigns all seemed to be doing their jobs without flaw. Sure, a few EPS taps had to be replaced, but Scotty and Chekov made such a good team that even those took less time than usual.

Scotty should've known it wouldn't last long.

"Aye, whit dae ye say tae lunch?" Scotty asked, wiping sweat off his brow as he eyed Chekov up in the pipes. It was a great view, Scotty thought proudly.

Chekov glanced down, "Okay! Let me just..."


Scotty and Chekov both shifted their sights to the hallway.

Uhura was storming towards them, followed by...

"Carol?" Scotty squinted.

"Ayiyiyi." Chekov frowned.

Chekov hoped down beside Scotty, who was utterly perplexed at what he could have possible done wrong this time.

"You know what you did!" Uhura stopped in front of them, as if she could read minds.

"Sheesh! Whit is it noo?" Scotty complained.

Chekov had to admit, the two women looked scary with their arms folded in unison, glaring phasers at Scotty.

Uhura glanced at Carol, then looked like she had to take a moment to prepare herself.

"Would you please..." Uhura opened her eyes, "tell me exactly what you said to McCoy yesterday afternoon in his office?" She tilted her head dangerously.

Scotty held up his hands in defense, "I dunnae knoo whit ye'r talking aboo', lassie..."

"Scotty!" Carol interrupted, "You told him we were..." She exchanged another look with Uhura, this time concerned, "You said Nyota and I were seeing each other."

Scotty's shoulders dropped, "Oh!" He laughed, "Is tha' awl?"

Uhura looked lived, while Carol just held her forehead.

"Why would you say that?" Uhura interrupted his amusement, "How did you find out?!"

Scotty's expression fell slowly. He wiped a tear from his eye, "What?"

Uhura blinked.

"Oh...god." Carol groaned.

Scotty, however, was smiling once again. This time, in victory, "AH-HA!" He pointed at them, while Chekov stared at the guilty pair in shock, "Ye two are shuckin' aroond, th' ship, tryin' tae tell me whit tae do?!" He laughed, "Weel A’ve got ye noo. Noo we 'ave nothing to worry aboo', do we? Haha!" He nudged Chekov playfully, "We'r nae th' only guilty ones!"

Uhura looked up, "What do you mean… we?" She looked to Carol for back up, but Carol somehow looked even guiltier than before.

"Oh my god." Uhura put a hand to her mouth, “They’re not…” She turned to Scotty and Chekov, "You two aren’t…” But they were, “You two are... screwing?!" Uhura stared, her anger flaring up once again, "Scotty! Are you out of your mind?! He's not even...!" But Carol put a hand on her shoulder, quieting both her and Scotty, who already had his mouth open in retort.

Chekov was looking away.

"Oh." Uhura said softly, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean anything by it. It's just..." She stopped herself that time. Her and Scotty traded looks, then, "Ok... well..." She straightened herself up and Carol did the same, "I think we can all keep a civil tongue about this."

"Ah will if ye will!"

Carol stepped between them. She wasn't sure about this at all, but unlike Uhura, she knew how to contain her thoughts for the time being. She looked to Scotty, a hint of disapproval in her eyes, "I think we should all cool off, and talk about this later, alright?"

Scotty and Uhura nodded defiantly; Chekov wasn’t looking at any of them.

"Good." She looked to Uhura, and Uhura tentatively followed her lead, the two of them heading back the way they came.


Scotty let out a breath, "Oy. Ah cannae believe how happy Ah am tae nae be wit' a woman." He shook his head at the pair. He turned to Chekov, but Chekov was already heading back the other direction.

"Laddie?" Scotty called him, "Laddie." He trotted to his side and put a hand on his shoulder to stop him.

Chekov wouldn't look at him.

"Pavel..." Scotty said, "What's wrong?" He put a finger under his chin, tilting his gaze forward.

Chekov looked hurt, “Why did you haff to tell zhem?” He rasped.

Scotty opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. He stared at Chekov tragically.

Chekov bit his lips, fighting off tears. He couldn’t stay mad. He just…. "I hawe newer..." He paused, his pout heartbreaking rather than cute, "I hawe newer come out befor." He took a small breath, "…I did not want to.”

"Oh, laddie..." Scotty whispered, "A'm sorry, Ah wasnae thinking."

Chekov wiped his eye with his sleeve. Peeyot snuck onto his shoulder.

“They willnae tell anyone, Ah promise.” Scotty said softly, brushing some of the curls off Chekov’s forehead, “We knoo their secret, too, remember?”

Chekov nodded numbly.

Scotty kissed Chekov’s forehead, holding him gently, and was relieved to feel Chekov lean into him a little. “A’m so sorry, Pavel.”

Chekov shook his head, “Eet eez not your fault.” He sniffed.

“Why dunnae we have lunch in my room todae?” Scotty offered.

“Okay.” He mumbled, putting his hands on Scotty’s side, “I am soorry.”

Scotty hushed him, hugging him close, “It’s nae yer fault, laddie.” He looked at him, desperately needing to make it up to him, “Why dunnae I goo git us some food, ‘n’ meet ye back in my room?”

Chekov nodded again, “Okay.” But before Scotty could let go, Chekov kissed him on the cheek.

Scotty smiled in relief, “Oh, laddie…” He hugged him again, holding him for a while before finally heading off to the cafeteria.

Chekov watched him go, then made his way back to the room with Peeyot.

Neither one of them realized that the little tribble looked somewhat smaller since that morning.

Chapter Text

Chekov only had to wait a little while for Scotty to come back. He was relaxing in Scotty's bed, petting Peeyot absentmindedly, when the door slid open.

Chekov immediately got up to help carry their lunch.

"Ah got it, lad." Scotty said, shooing Chekov back to the bed as he sat a tray down on a short table nearby. Chekov's blue eyes were still a little red, but he seemed fine otherwise. Scotty sat on the bed with him, "How are ye?" He brushed the curls off of Chekov's forehead affectionately.

Chekov bit his lips, "Fine." He said.

Scotty kissed his cheek, then, "Bad news, lad."


"Ah couldnae get all th' things ye like. They didnae have trays big enough." He fought back a smile.

Chekov's trepidation turned to relief, "Oh, eez zhat all?" He leaned over and took a sandwich from the tray.

"Wha... Ah thought ye'd starve th' death wit' only..." He counted, "Four sandwiches."

Chekov laughed, calming Scotty. He pulled Chekov into his lap, kissing his cheek, "I'm glad ye'r feeling better." He nuzzled him.

Chekov smiled, "Are you going to eat, or just kiss me?"

"Hmm..." Scotty played, nuzzling Chekov's ear, "I dunnae, both are good options..."

Chekov laughed, shoving him off.

"Alrigh' alrigh'." Scotty chuckled, taking a sandwich, "Wait..." He realized something, "How'd ye get in here?"

Oh! Chekov swallowed his bite, "Well, I haff heard yoo say zhe password a lot, so..."

"Yeah but, do ye even knoo' whit it means?"

Chekov nodded, "Geet off my fooking back."

Scotty stared.

Chekov took another bite eagerly, "I translated zhat, too."

Scotty laughed, "Ye'r too smart fer yer own guid." He pushed him.

Chekov smiled wide.

Soon it was quiet as they both worked on the tray. Chekov was glad Scotty couldn't bring back a lot of food. He wasn't as hungry as usual.

Finally, when they were both fed (Peeyot, too), and relaxing lazily on Scotty's bed, Scotty turned to him, looking a little unsure, "So, uh... laddie."

Chekov turned to him, laying in his arms, "Mm?"

"Ye've really... never come out before?"

"...aye." He said quietly.

"We dunnae have to talk aboo' it if ye dunnae want tae."

"Eet eez okay." He said, "I newer told my parents." He explained, "Zhe first guy I liked, we only hung out for a night at a party, and zhe second guy, we dated for a few weeks but newer... you know." Chekov took a breath, "I newer actually came out to zhem. Zhey just hit on me and I... reciprocated. I do not ewen know what I am." Chekov said hesitantly, "...I still like girls."

"Aye. I do, too." Scotty consoled him, "A've never really given it much though' either." He pulled Chekov closer to him, "Ah dunnae think tha's a problem."

Chekov looked up at him, "Really?"

"Aye." Scotty kissed his head, "Ye shuidnae worry yer pretty head aboo' it."

Chekov nestled against him, "Ok." He was still unsure, but knowing Scotty still cared for him was all Chekov needed to hear. Still, something kept nagging at his thoughts, until he knew he had to tell Scotty, "Um... Montgomery?"

Scotty smiled. He'd never really heard Chekov say his first name. It was adorable, "Aye?" Until he realized Chekov had something important to say, "What is it, laddie?"

Chekov didn't look at him that time, "You know I return to zhe bridge tomorrow, right?"

Scotty's heart sank into his stomach. He'd forgotten all about that, "Oh, right..."

Chekov hesitated, "I zhout, maybe, I could ask zhe Captain to let me do alternate shifts een Engineering and Nawigation. But now..."

Scotty saw where he was going with that. Suddenly, Chekov's reaction to the fight earlier made even more since, "Aye." He sighed, frowning. Scotty wouldn't have been embarrassed if he were the one asking to switch shifts while Uhura and Carol knew what he was up to, but Chekov was still young and concerned with his place amongst his peers, "Ah understand laddie, if ye want tae goo back tae Navigation fer guid."

"I want to stay wiz you." Chekov looked at him.

Scotty blinked. And then, he smiled. He couldn't help it, "Weel... if ye went back tae th' bridge, and things just kept happenin' tae goo wrong down 'ere..."

Chekov smiled in realization, "Absolutely not."

Scotty chuckled, "Alrigh'. Alrigh'." He sighed, "Tha' certainly puts a damper on things thoo."

Chekov's smiled faded, "Aye."

They both stared at the pipes above them for a while, half thinking, half relaxing in each other's company.

"Weel," Scotty finally said, "Ah guess all we can do is wait an' see what happens." He sat up on his elbows.

Chekov looked at him miserably. He wished he could have Scotty's positive outlook, something he never thought he'd say. He rolled over into Scotty, putting his arms around him.

Scotty smiled, rubbing his back, "Do ye still wantae goo out wit' me tonight?"

Chekov looked at him, "Aye."

"Guid." Scotty leaned down and kissed him, "Then let's worry aboo' tha' first, sound guid?"

"Sounds guid." Chekov mimicked him

Scotty gawked, "How'd'ye...?" He grabbed him, making Chekov laugh, then kissed him. He kissed him and kissed him until they were both smiling and reluctant to return to their shifts.


Chekov and Scotty weren't as enthusiastic a pair as earlier that the day, but they still made a great team. Scotty spent the remainder the time hovering over Chekov, but Chekov didn't stop him. He was enjoying it.

As their shift began to end, Chekov started feeling excited again. Scotty was going to take him out. He still didn't know where, but it was going to be their first date. Chekov was suddenly very glad Scotty had been so insistent on it.

When their shift was over, they went their separate ways so they could change and get ready. Scotty told Chekov to meet him by the rec room in an hour.


Chekov got to his room in high spirits. He walked in to find Sulu working on a plant.

"Afternoon." Sulu smiled.

"Hey." Chekov smiled, taking his shoes off, "Do you need zhe bathroom? I am going to shower."

"Nope. Help yourself." Sulu said, "Hot night last night?"

Chekov looked at him.

Sulu was grinning. He turned to him, "C'mon, you think you can sneak out all night and hide it from me?"

Chekov smiled sheepishly, "Aye, okay. Eet was wery good."

"Oh yeah?" Sulu beamed, "Are you seeming him again?"

Chekov paused, eyes wide, "Um..."

"You know... Mr. Scott?" Sulu was grinning again.

Chekov's whole body swelled. He turned red, "Ayiy... eet eez not...!"

"Relax." Sulu laughed, getting up, "I guessed because he came to get you, and I haven't seen you since, and I know you only date alien girls, so..." He took his gloves off, leaning against the wall, "I didn't take either one of you to be into that, but hey, I'm proud." He smiled.

"...You are?" Chekov was blushing furiously.

"Mmhm." He nodded, "You're probably the smartest person on this ship, and the most single. Besides McCoy."

Chekov smiled weakly.

"I think this'll be good for you."

Chekov was shocked, "Oh... well, zhank you."

"Don't mention it." He smiled at him, "I assume I shouldn't, either. You know, coworkers and whatnot... there's probably some rule about it somewhere. But hey, when your entire ship is filled with nothing but coworkers and you're on a five-year mission..." Sulu shrugged proudly.

Chekov smiled. Sulu always made him feel better about everything. With his optimism and Scotty's  reassurance, Chekov felt himself caring less and less about what Uhura and Marcus knew.

"So how are zhings wiz you and Mikael?"

Sulu smile fell a little, "Ah. Not that great. Turns out he's an M.City fan."


"It's a sports thing. But we're not seeing each other anymore." He said, then, "Hey, does Scotty have any friends in..."


They both laughed.

"So what are you guys doing tonight?" Sulu asked, watching Chekov find his towel and a change of clothes.

"Scotty's taking me out somewhere."


"No idea." Chekov shrugged.

"Oh my, how romantic."

Chekov grinned, heading to the bathroom, "I wull tell you about it later."

"Please do." Sulu smiled.

Sulu typed up a report on his plants while Chekov showered. Chekov took a little while to come out, though. When he finally did, he was dressed in jeans, a t-shirt, and a brown bomber jacket. His hair was neat and curly.

"Um... do I look okay?"

Sulu turned to him and beamed, "Very handsome."

Chekov bit his lips in a smile, "Zhanks."

And with that, he was hurrying out the door, leaving Sulu to his plants.

Sulu couldn't believe Chekov was the one on a date and Sulu was doing work. He sighed fondly, then noticed Min-ho was crawling up his arm. He twirled his arm and Min-ho shrunk back, "Somehow, this is all your fault." He informed it, "No, don't look at me like that." He patted the purple plant, "I love you, too." then got back to work.