McCoy hadn't expected to find anyone on the bridge.
He had just finished the last of his paperwork in Sickbay and was wandering the halls of the Enterprise. The starship was docked at Starfleet headquarters and everyone was enjoying a two day shore leave. But McCoy never really enjoyed shore leave on Earth. Most people went and visited their families, or spent the time with their sweetheart, or just got wasted. McCoy had quickly learned that the Enterprise was the closest thing to home and family that he would ever have, so leaving it for even two days, especially for Earth, was something he wasn't particularly fond of.
And that's why he was stalling now, roaming the empty halls slowly, taking his time in leaving. And that's why he was surprised when he took the turbolift to the bridge and saw someone sitting in the captain's chair, with their legs folded comfortably under them, eating grapes like they fucking owned the place.
McCoy took a step forward, his mouth opening to yell at the person in the chair (two parts because he was pissed, one part because he had been startled) when the person heard his movement and turned his head in McCoy's direction. Chekov's face was a mixture of surprise and a sheepish guilt. He shot out of the chair, nearly falling over in his haste. The bag of grapes fell from his lap, a few loose ones rolling across the floor. Chekov gasped and started picking up the scattered fruit.
"Sorry, I'm so sorry Doctor..."
McCoy tried not to smile. He cleared his throat. "What the hell are you doing on the ship? You should be on your leave."
Chekov looked up at him, his cheeks flushed from embarrassment. "I was zinking zat maybe I could just haff my leawe here." He straightened up and swiveled his head around, making sure he had picked up all of the grapes.
McCoy scowled. "Why don't you wanna take your leave?"
The kid shrugged his thin shoulders and tossed the few grapes in his hand into the small trash receptacle near the Captain's chair. "I simply do not want to go."
McCoy gave a look that said he knew he was full of shit. "You don't have friends you wanna see?"
Chekov shrugged again. "Being ze youngest in all of your classes eez not ze easiest way to make friends."
McCoy's scowl deepened. "Well staying cooped up here isn't going to make that any easier, you know."
Chekov raised his eyebrows. "Being 'cooped up here', as you say, eez exactly how I'we managed to make friends."
McCoy huffed at the kid's stubbornness but knew exactly how Chekov felt.
They stood looking at each other as several seconds went by. Chekov grew visibly nervous . The kid was chewing his bottom lip and his hands were fluttering around like two birds, clasping in front of him, touching his hair, playing with the hem of his gold shirt.
McCoy gave a small laugh. "Chekov, no need to worry. I'm not gonna report you or anything."
Chekov nodded solemnly and offered a small smile. He refused to make eye contact with McCoy.
Huh. McCoy had been sure that's what the kid was nervous about. But evidently not.
He walked over to the Captain's chair so that him and Chekov were closer. McCoy stood there until Chekov tentatively raised his eyes to meet his own.
"Hey kid, I don't care that you wanna stay on the ship. I just wanna make sure that it's definitely what you want."
Chekov nodded then shyly asked, "Why are you still on ze ship? Are you also staying?"
McCoy had planned on going down eventually, but the way the damned kid said it so sweetly, looking at him through his eyelashes, McCoy found himself nodding. "Earth doesn't really appeal to me."
Chekov laughed lightly and gave a dazzling smile. "It eez nice zat I will not be alone."
McCoy crossed his arms and tried to not look like he was pleased by the kid's words.
Chekov seemed to clear his throat before saying, "So, what would you like to do, Doctor?" The blush in Chekov's cheeks was deeper, and there was a nervous smile playing on his lips.
Fuck. McCoy wished he hadn't noticed Chekov's lips. McCoy wasn't sure if he was just an old pervert, or if Chekov trying to come on to him. But then Chekov bit his lower lip again and McCoy could feel himself starting to grow far too warm. This was a bad idea. A very bad idea.
McCoy swallowed and tried to think of something to reply but his mind was absolutely blank. Chekov took a hesitant step forward, so that the two of them were only a feet away. He didn't move any closer, but he looked at McCoy with a fluttery expectancy.
McCoy took a steadying breath, trying to firmly grasp the fact that Chekov was absolutely off limits.
"Pavel." Chekov chirped.
McCoy sighed but began again. "Pavel, I'm not sure what you're expecting, but-"
"Will you say my name again? It sounds so sweet when you say it."
It was McCoy's turn to blush. Chekov seemed to be growing more confident as the Doctor grew more flustered. Chekov moved closer to him, enough for McCoy to see those wonderful green eyes, laced with a hazel that lazily circled his blown irises. Fuck. Chekov's lower lip was wet and swollen from him biting it. McCoy could feel his resolve slipping. He knew if he said the name again, he would lose it. But it was so tempting, and Pavel's name felt like melted sugar on his tongue.
Chekov moved even closer, so their chests were almost touching. McCoy wanted them to touch. He could feel the wild heat radiating from Chekov. God, those curls. He wanted desperately to feel them, to tug them, to kiss them.
Fuck it. McCoy knew he was twice the age of Chekov, that he was his senior officer, that this was flat out wrong, but god damnit, he was only flesh and blood.
He leaned forward so his mouth was near Chekov's ear. He could smell Chekov's strawberry shampoo.
"Pavel." McCoy breathed, his voice low and dark. The ensign shivered. McCoy chuckled and gently trapped Pavel's small earlobe between his teeth. Chekov let out a small whimper. McCoy sucked it gently before releasing. "I know you aren't trying to seduce an old man like me, are you?" As he said it he pressed his body forward, finally getting contact with that delicious warmth.
He put his hand on Chekov's lower back and pulled their waists against each other, so that their growing erections were pressed together. Chekov let out a small breathy gasp as McCoy's hips began to grind slowly into him. McCoy loved how much of an effect he had on Chekov. His breathing was quick and his hands were holding the Doctor's arms, roaming up and down the tight muscle.
When Chekov's hips began jerking forward, wanting more contact, McCoy pushed him gently away. McCoy went to the Captain's chair and sat down. Chekov stood before him, unsure of what to do. His cheeks were flushed beautifully, his curls slightly disheveled and his cock straining against the fabric of his pants.
"Take off your shirts."
Chekov looked shy but he did as he was told, lifting both his gold and black shirt over his head in a lithe motion. McCoy stared hungrily at Chekov's exposed torso. Lean, the skin smooth and pale, flat rosy nipples that McCoy wanted badly to pinch and bite.
He spread his legs open and placed a hand on his own throbbing cock, rubbing it slowly through the fabric as Chekov watched. Chekov bit his lip, his eyes smoldering. McCoy gave a sinful smile.
"Now the rest."
Chekov kicked off his shoes while his thin fingers unfastened his pants. He wriggled out of them, exposing his jutting pink cock. McCoy licked his lips at the sight.
He undid his own pants and slid them down to his thighs so his aching erection was out. Chekov made a small needy noise, standing naked, his body tense and wanting.
"Doctor, you're wery big."
McCoy's cock twitched at Chekov's words.
Chekov obeyed immediately, standing directly in front of McCoy. McCoy grabbed Chekov's bare hips and pulled him onto his lap, so that both of the ensign's legs were on either side of him. Their cocks brushed against each other as Chekov adjusted his weight on McCoy's thighs, wrapping his arms loosely around his neck. McCoy's felt euphoric looking at Chekov's smaller leaking cock pressed against his own. It was an oddly gorgeous sight, and insanely hot.
McCoy wrapped his hand loosely around them and began a steady rhythm, squeezing lightly and spreading Chekov's precome along their shafts. Chekov gave a heady moan and closed his eyes, his thighs tightening around McCoy.
"I'we wanted zees for so long." He gave another long provocative moan before continuing. "I lowe when you hawe to examine me...afterwards I always go to my room and touch myself."
McCoy was breathing heavy now, his own precome mixing with Chekov's, helping his hand move faster. Listening to Chekov's dirty confession, spoken in that lustful tone and thick accent was almost too much.
Chekov gasped as McCoy squeezed their cocks tighter. He hung his head and began moaning and pleading in Russian as McCoy's hand picked up speed. Chekov's thighs were trembling and his arms were tight around McCoy's neck. McCoy knew that he was trying hard not to come.
He leaned forward so his lips were brushing the shell of Chekov's ear.
"Pavel," He purred, "come for me, darling."
Chekov gave a beautiful cry as he obeyed, some of his release splashing on McCoy's blue uniform shirt. Most of it ran down McCoy's fist as he continued pumping their cocks together.
He had always prided himself on his own stamina, especially in situations like this. But Chekov's spent cock rubbing against his own, come slickening them both, the sight of it running down the back of his hand, it was all enough to have his own orgasm chasing Pavel's soon afterwards.
Their breathing seemed too loud in the silent room. McCoy's relese had shot all over Chekov's thin chest. Fuck, Pavel looked good covered in his come. Chekov noticed him staring and looked down. He smeared some onto his index finger and brought it to his lips. McCoy's cock gave a small twitch as Chekov sucked his finger clean.
McCoy had a feeling that he wouldn't be getting a lot of rest on his shore leave.