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perpetual_motionI'm online [hiding out in away mode] and writing Scotty/Chekov. Consider this an open invitation for anyone else wanting to write New!Trek. Or anyone who's just considering writing New!Trek.
I'm under QueenofHappyland on AIM.
I'm under QueenofHappyland on AIM.
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on 2009-05-30 06:31 am (UTC)*toddles off in search of bed*
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on 2009-05-30 06:42 am (UTC)no subject
on 2009-05-31 04:34 am (UTC)I want that fic.
*grabby paw*
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on 2009-05-31 04:35 am (UTC)no subject
on 2009-05-31 04:41 am (UTC)SCOTTY WAS AWESOME, AND HE NEEDS TO GET CHEKOV TOTALLY DRUNK, BECAUSE OMG, CHEKOV IS 17.
...
*blush*
Are you on AIM now?
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on 2009-05-31 04:52 am (UTC)<---WINS.
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on 2009-05-31 04:55 am (UTC)Have they gotten to drunk-making-out? *big brown eyes*
Omg, Chekov is 17.
Ohhh. Alas! I missed the chance to chat with you last night. But! I hope there will be fic soon. Mmmm, Scotty/Chekov.
I totally want to read it now.
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on 2009-05-31 05:39 am (UTC)no subject
on 2009-05-31 05:55 am (UTC)Is he doing the pursuing, or is Chekov?
*eyes the two plushies curiously*
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on 2009-05-31 06:04 am (UTC)no subject
on 2009-05-31 07:23 am (UTC)Hrmph. Just for that, have at you!
***
"You're not a puppy -- even if you act like one sometimes," Scotty murmured, unable to resist a smile at the fact that Pavel Chekov managed to get through Starfleet without once being kissed. Oh, sure, the Russian certainly talked the talk, but when it came down to it, he was a bundle of nerves.
Blue eyes half-glared up at him. "If you keep this up, I will not kiss you."
Scotty managed to muscle the smile down into a quirk of the lips. Covering Chekov's hands where they lay on his chest, he leaned in just a little. "Really now?"
Chekov's eyes widened just a little, and Scotty could see a flash of tongue lick at the Russian's pink lips. "Yes," he barely whispered.
It was a bald-faced lie, or his name wasn't Montgomery Scott.
"I see," Scotty murmured. "So, does that mean you don't want a kiss? Because I can let go--"
"No-- Yes," Chekov said quickly, his fingers clenching into Scotty's shirt. He shook his head and growled a little before glaring at Scotty again. "Stop confusing things."
"I didn't think I was confusing anything," Scotty replied, letting go of one hand to trace Chekov's cheekbone with his thumb gently. He felt more than saw the young man's shiver, and it struck him.
Pavel Chekov had never done this before. Oh, sure, it was one thing to know that a young lad you were teasing hadn't had as much experience as he pretended, but it was quite something else to realize that the young lad he was thinking about kissing was nervous.
"It's all right," Scotty whispered. "If you want to know, I've a wee touch of nerves myself."
Chekov frowned. "You?"
Scotty's smile returned, and he leaned in until his forehead was resting against the Russian's, the brush of curly brown hair tickling his skin. "Has it ever occurred to you that this kiss might not be just a kiss, but it might spark something? Where will we be going, do you think?" He meant to ask another question, but Chekov licked his lips again, and Scotty's gaze slid down to watch that tongue again.
"Anywhere we want," Chekov half-whispered.
Scotty snorted just a little. "Oh, aye? To boldly go where no one has gone before?"
Chekov blinked, and then snickered a little. "Kissing is the final frontier?"
"Oh, it can hardly be that," Scotty purred, feeling the smaller man shiver in his arms. "But, for us? It's a start." With a smirk, he pulled back just enough to buss Chekov's forehead affectionately. Whatever the lad may be, he was certainly adorable.
Chekov, of course, looked a bit sour. "That is not where I want my kiss."
"Really?" Scotty asked, pretending to be surprised. The glare he got was more than worth it, he thought. Without breaking his gaze, he very carefully slid his arms down and around Chekov's waist, before leaning in, their eyes inches away.
Chekov held his breath, his eyes locked on Scotty's as if he was trying not to blink.
"You're shaking," Scotty whispered.
"I am not," Chekov protested, his hands sliding up. Scotty felt a hand run itself over his short-cropped hair, unable to get much of a grip but not thwarted by the realization.
"Close your eyes for a moment," Scotty whispered. When Chekov finally did after a skeptical glance, he felt the younger man's hands clench in his hair, in his shirt.
"Breathe, lad," Scotty continued the soft, soothing voice that he usually reserved for finicky consoles. "Nothing to worry about. Relax."
It took some time of just holding him, watching Chekov's young face slowly unclench, the tension melt away with just the simple comfort of holding someone close.
Where would they be, in the next ten minutes? If this had been a one-night stand, Scotty was fairly sure they'd be kicking bedsheets to the floor, their clothes already in places it would be difficult to find in the morning.
Could he kiss Chekov and see where it led?
As he leaned in and touched his lips to the Russian's, Scotty figured that he was about to find out.
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on 2009-05-30 05:47 pm (UTC)also i would totally get on aim but i am at work. :( e.t.a: ahaha i totally didn't notice the timestamp on this, never mind.
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on 2009-05-30 06:51 pm (UTC)