The BLTS Archive- Carnivale
by MizzMarcee (MizzMarcee@yahoo.com)

---

Warning: This story contains adult themes and m/m sex. If you are not
interested in such things, or are under eighteen years of age, please
find your entertainment elsewhere.

Disclaimer: Copyright September 2000 by Marcee Evans. This story is
an original work of amateur fiction based on Star Trek, which is owned
by TPTB (i.e., The Powers That Be: Paramount, Viacom, and all its
entities). I have absolutely no intention of infringing on the
intellectual property rights of TPTB, and make no money on this
whatsoever.

The symbol ~~ denotes the beginning and ending of an internal
thought.

Archive: Ensign-Fuh-Q-Fest, ASC*/ASCEML, BLTS, and the COCO_SSD web
site provided that all header information is included. Please archive
complete text only. All others, please ask first by contacting me at
MizzMarcee@yahoo.com. Thanks.

Thanks to T'Thrill, Karmen, and Jane (skazki) for your feedback and
support! :-)

Comments: Feedback is welcome.

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"Scotty!"

Montgomery Scott heard his name called over the hubbub of the crowd.
It was Carnivale on Bennett's Planet, and they were in the middle of
it during the Enterprise's extended stop to deliver much needed
supplies for the sector.

The burly engineer muttered under his breath. He hated loud, noisy
crowds. Give him a bottle of Scotch in a quiet bar--that was his idea
of a good time.

"Scotty!"

Turning his head this way and that, he focused his eyes on the faces
before him, trying to locate the source of the voice.

"Scotty! Over here!"

"Uhura?"

At once, the lovely face of the Enterprise's communications officer
came into view.

"Scotty," she called again, her face awash with relief. She pushed
her way through the crowd and literally fell into the Scotsman's arms.

"Scotty, I'm so glad I found you!" Uhura had to shout to make herself
heard over the cheering revelers.

"What's the matter, lass? What have ye gotten all worked up o'er?"

She pulled a long lock of hair out of her eyes. "Can we find a way to
get out of this crowd--where we can talk?"

Scotty looked around. He noticed a quiet corner next to an adjacent
building. It seemed like as good a place as any. Taking the slight
woman by the arm, he led Uhura through the mass of carousers and to a
more secluded spot.

"What is it, lass? Are you all right?"

"What?" Uhura looked up at him questioningly, then smiled. "Oh,
Scotty. I'm just fine. But I have to meet Geoff and I didn't want to
leave before finding someone to stay with Pavel."

Scotty blinked. "Why would you need to do that? Is something wrong
with the lad? Is he sick? Or hurt?"

"No," Uhura replied, smoothing her hair back into a tight knot at the
top of her head. "It's just that--well, I found him in the Pavilion,
waiting for Sulu." A sad look formed over Uhura's dark face. "Sulu's
over an hour late, and Pavel's already had more vodka than he should
tonight. I wasn't able to convince him to go back to the ship. And now
I need to meet Geoff--"

"It's not my place to get involved, lassie," Scotty stated firmly.

He understood what Uhura was hoping for. She had intimated a few
weeks earlier that she was concerned about how Sulu was treating
Chekov. The helmsman was spending more and more time with Lei
Oshikira, all the while dangling Chekov along. Sulu seemed to be
uncertain which partner to choose, so instead of making a decision one
way or another, he made no decision at all.

"But it's not fair, Scotty. Pavel has a lot to offer the right
person. He doesn't deserve to be treated this way."

"I agree with you, lass, but what can I do?"

Uhura smiled. "I knew I could count on you, Scotty!"

"Now wait a minute! Uhura!"

"He's sitting in the Pavilion Lounge. Just talk to him. Convince him
to go back to the ship." Uhura gave Scotty a tiny smile. "Or convince
him to go with you for a night out on the town. It's Carnivale. No one
should spend it alone. Not tonight of all nights."

"Uhura--"

The communications officer didn't answer, just gave him an
affectionate hug. "Go enjoy yourself, Scotty. And find a way to get
Pavel to go with you, too. He's been looking so melancholy lately. He
deserves some fun."

With that, Uhura rushed back into the sea of revelers, on her way to
her own rendezvous.

Scotty took in a deep breath, then let it out slowly--considering
what he was going to do next.

It wasn't that he disliked the lad. Actually, if the truth were told,
he always enjoyed the young Russian's company. The lad was good in a
fight, as proved by that little incident over the Tribbles. And Chekov
could be counted on in a pinch. He kept tight-lipped to the Captain
about who actually started the fight on K-7. Scotty could think of a
lot worse types he could associate with. Besides, the lad was
definitely easy on the eyes.

The engineer pulled out his map of Bennett City and located the
Pavilion Lounge. He was glad it was less than two blocks away. Wading
through a sea of humanity and aliens was definitely not his idea of
fun for shore leave.

As he slowly fought his way towards the Pavilion Lounge, Scotty
thought over his feelings concerning the lad. He had kept his thoughts
to himself when Uhura had approached him a few weeks ago about Sulu's
behavior. It was common knowledge aboard the ship that Sulu and Chekov
were lovers. The relationship came as a surprise to Scotty, since he
had always pictured Chekov as being firmly a 'ladies only' sort of
fellow. But with the news of the Russian's affair with Sulu, Scotty
had started to look upon the lad in a different sort of light. And he
liked what he saw.

Scotty knew he was in love with the lad. It didn't take a rocket
scientist for him to figure that out. At first, he had found himself
drawn to the young man, enjoying his company whenever they drew the
same work detail or happened to serve on the same away mission. He
appreciated Chekov's skills. The lad was handy with his hands and had
a good head on his shoulders.

~~If only he had an interest in engineering instead of command. He
would make a dandy Chief Engineer someday.~~

Scotty had tried to reason with himself, almost convincing himself
that it was just a crush. He was attracted to Chekov because the lad
was out of reach--Sulu's lover. But Scotty knew for sure that his
feelings were real when they found themselves in that dusty street in
Tombstone. He saw Chekov, facedown in the street, and something
snapped in his heart. It was like the gates had been opened and all of
the emotions he had been holding back came rushing in. He was ready to
kill the Earps with his bare hands.

Kirk stopped him. It wasn't their time yet. That's what the Captain
said. Eventually, the Earps moved away. But the emotions were still
raw as he helped Kirk lift the limp body. The Captain carried the lad
into the saloon and they wrapped him in a dusty sheet. Scotty mourned
openly, hot tears streaming down his face, as they placed the shrouded
body in the corner next to the bar. At that point, he didn't care what
the others thought. The lad's young, brilliant life had been snuffed
out and Scotty's life would never be the same.

He felt his heart lurch with the image. He had seen Chekov die before
his very eyes. It was at that moment that he knew he was in love with
the Russian.

When they realized Chekov wasn't dead after all, Scotty was both
relieved and dismayed. He wanted to go up to the young Russian right
then and there. Hug him. Kiss him. Tell him how much he had been
missed. But Sulu was there to welcome Chekov home and Scotty went back
to his quarters alone.

Sulu.

His blood boiled as he thought about the sadness in Chekov's eyes
whenever Sulu gave him the brush off. The lad didn't deserve to be
treated that way. He deserved to be spoiled and pampered in exactly
the way Scotty wanted to spoil and pamper him.

When he first met the lad, the youngster seemed so energetic,
fearless, cock-sure of himself and his place in life. He was the best
navigator in the fleet. Many said so. Top in his class. Sure, he had a
lot to learn, especially about not losing his temper, but the lad was
a quick learn. He became Spock's apprentice at the Science station
within his first year as a member of the alpha bridge crew. No small
feat for a mere human.

But then the lad went away on some secret mission. It was never
revealed to any of them where the lad was sent. But he came back
different. Most people didn't take mind, but Scotty noticed. Noticed
how the lad kept to himself, how he seemed at loose ends, how he
seemed less sure of himself, as if life had knocked him flat on his
tail and he couldn't find a way back.

Scotty noticed how Sulu took the lad in. How there was happiness for
a short time. How the shadows around the lad's eyes seemed to lift for
a while.

Now the shadows were back and it tore at Scotty's heart.

The Russian had to know Sulu was dividing his time--stringing him
along. Scotty wondered, not for the first time, why Chekov didn't
fight to win Sulu back. Maybe the lad thought Sulu would change his
mind.

Or maybe he was waiting for something better to come along to take
Sulu's place.

Scotty shook his head with an angry mumble. It wasn't his intention
to steal Chekov away--as much as he wanted to. Montgomery Scott was
many things, but he wasn't a home wrecker.

The engineer maneuvered through the crowd assembled on the steps of
the massive Pavilion Lounge, then made his way inside. The place was
crowded and dimly lit. A band was playing in the main room, while
smaller rooms afforded the guests a more intimate setting.

He asked the nearest waitress for Chekov's table. She seemed to know
exactly which one without even looking at the seating chart. The
scantily clad woman gave him a discerning look from head to foot, then
nodded towards one of the smaller rooms. "He's been expecting you,"
she said, her lips turning into a disapproving frown.

Scotty blushed. "I'm afraid he's expecting someone else. But I
decided to stop in and keep the lad company."

Her face seemed to brighten a little. "Very well. Follow me."

The woman led him to the small room. As it turned out, it was a
private room. Chekov was sitting on a large pillow, totally alone. He
was in the process of downing another drink when Scotty stepped
inside.

"I'll leave you two alone, then," the woman murmured, then pulled the
curtains shut behind her.

Chekov looked up expectantly, a huge grin on his face. Upon seeing
the identity of his guest, his grateful smile switched to an
expression of surprise.

"Mister Scott?"

"Aye, laddie. I jus came ta--"

"Sh--she dragged you in here, didn't she," the Russian interrupted,
hurt and embarrassment evident in his dark eyes.

"I dinna know what ye are talk'n about, laddie," Scotty said as he
pulled over another pillow and sat down across from the young man.

"Uhura. She tried to get me to go back to the ship. She said I should
just forget him and go back." Chekov looked up at Scotty, anger making
his voice shake. "You ran into her, didn't you? She talked you into
coming here and taking me back with you."

Scotty let out a slow sigh. "Ye are right, lad. I did run into Uhura.
But it's nae what ye think--"

Chekov's face turned red and he looked away from his visitor.

"Please, I don't want to hear it from you, too. He was supposed to
meet me here. I made all the reservations. He said he would meet me
here. He's just running late."

The Russian reached for the clear bottle in front of him. Scotty
grabbed Chekov's hand, then reached with his other hand and pulled the
bottle of vodka away.

"I think ye had enough for now, laddie."

"What am I going to do? I can't compete with her. I can't give him
what she can."

Scotty felt his heart lurch. Gods, he loved the lad--and he hated to
see him in such pain.

"What canna ye give him, laddie?"

The Russian looked up, tears forming in his dark eyes. "He wants to
start a family. He wants children. How can I compete with that?"

Scotty scooted his pillow around so he was sitting next to Chekov. He
ran his arm across the other man's shoulder, then pulled him close.
"Ye canna compete with that, laddie. Just let it go. T'will be
al'righ. Just let it go."

He felt Chekov lean against him a little more, then heard the young
man sigh softly. The Russian's shoulders began to shake a little and
the engineer wrapped his arms around the slight body in a warm,
affectionate bear hug.

They sat there for a long moment.

God, he wanted this. His arms had ached to hold the lad--comfort him.
How long had it been since he had held someone close like this? He
didn't want it to end too quickly.

Scotty heard the curtain to their private room open. He jerked his
head up, suddenly afraid he'd see Sulu in the doorway pondering what
he was doing with his lover.

"You boys need another drink? --Oops. Sorry."

Scotty chuckled as the waitress looked at them, smiled, and then
closed the curtain behind them.

"Who--who was that?" Chekov lifted his head off of Scotty's shoulder,
blinking his eyes to focus them.

"Nothing. Just the waitress."

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Scotty."

"Tis okay, laddie," he said, rubbing the young man's back. "I'm glad
I could be here for ye. I've had my own share of heartbreak myself.
Just let it go."

Scotty heard the Russian take in a deep breath, then sigh softly. The
young man leaned back against his shoulder. He kept rubbing the lad's
back, letting him know he was safe and with a friend.

"I don't want to go back to the ship," Chekov mumbled through the
fabric of Scotty's shirt.

"We dinna have to, laddie. Ye can come with me. I was heading to
Caesar's Club before Uhura found me."

The Russian lifted his head from the engineer's shoulder. "Caesar's
Club?"

Scotty looked into the lad's deep brown eyes, then brushed a few
stray locks from Chekov's face. "It's a costume gala. I have two
tickets." He paused, then said, "My date stood me up. Would ye like to
go?"

"I have heard some people talking about this club," Chekov said.
"They said it is impossible to get tickets for this during Carnivale.
How did you--?"

Scotty laughed. "My dear Pavel, like our Lieutenant Uhura, I also
have my connections!"

He laughed and Chekov looked up into his eyes. The sadness seemed to
have diminished from the young man's face, replaced by a soft smile.
Scotty wanted to kiss him right then and there, but held himself back.
These things took time. He wasn't one to rush into things--not like
the Captain, who had the reputation of bedding a new lover without
even a 'hello, how are ye.' Scotty liked to build to the perfect
moment, and he hoped that perfect moment would be soon. If not
tonight, then maybe soon. In the meantime, he could enjoy the lad's
company.

"Come on. Why dinna we get out of this place? At Caesar's Club, I
hear ye can be anything ye want t' be. A prince. A swashbuckler. Maybe
even a magician."

Chekov nodded his head, a crooked grin forming over his lips. "A
magician, Mr. Scott?"

"Aye, laddie. I dinna want to lose my 'miracle worker' image, now, do
I?"

Scotty climbed off of the pillow first, then helped the Russian up.

Considering all of the vodka that Chekov had apparently consumed, the
young man seemed quite steady on his feet as Scotty escorted him out
of the private room and into the main lounge. The lad did know how to
hold his liquor, despite his small stature. But then, vodka was a
child's drink compared to a good bottle of Scotch.

The engineer pulled out his credit chip and paid for the room and the
vodka, over Chekov's protests.

"My treat, laddie," Scotty murmured affectionately as the waitress
handed back his credit chip.

The waitress winked at Scotty as the engineer hooked his arm around
the Russian's waist. He smiled back, then escorted the lad out the
door.

Making their way through the crowd was even harder than before, since
the night was progressing to the big celebration at the rise of the
planet's twin moons. Luckily, Scotty found a mass of revelers that
seemed to be heading in the same direction they were--to Caesar's
Club. The two men started to join in, singing and dancing with the
others. All the while, Scotty kept a firm arm around Chekov's waist
lest he get pulled away by the crowd.

After a few blocks, the engineer steered Chekov aside and away from
the dancers. They had arrived. Caesar's Club. It was a massive
building, built in the fashion of ancient Rome with tall pillars of
marble and statuary all around.

Scotty took a good look at one of the closer statues and suddenly
recognized the depiction of two young men joined in the throes of
passion. It almost gave him a hard-on, looking at the piece of artwork
as his arm casually tugged along Chekov's waist.

He noticed many of the other statues depicted humanoid figures in
similarly passionate poses, some appeared to be males, some females,
and some a grouping of both sexes. Scattered throughout were
depictions of other alien races. It was an equal-opportunity orgy,
right out on the front yard.

He swept Chekov inside before the young Russian could study the
sculptures too closely. He didn't want to be too obvious. Not yet. Not
until the time was right and he knew for certain whether Chekov had
feelings for him, too.

Scotty handed the doorman his two tickets and allowed himself and
Chekov to be escorted to a small dressing room.

Inside the room was a terminal and instructions on how to select
their costumes for the night. Scotty paged through the selections, the
Russian leaning over his shoulder.

"There. I like that one," Chekov said, pointing at one of the
pictures displayed on the terminal.

Scotty nodded his head with a low chuckle. The costume Chekov had
picked out was a white, button-down tunic with a short, crimson
jacket. The pants were black, cut tight, and cinched at the ankle. The
model wore sandals, and a crimson mask obscured his face.

"I approve," Scotty said with a grin. He shooed Chekov over to the
padd in the corner of the room, then pressed in the selection.

A light glowed over Chekov and green lines traced the outline of his
body to exact detail from all angles. When the process was complete, a
door opened in the wall next to the console and a packet arrived.

"Wow! Neat!"

Scotty laughed. "Maybe we can convince Captain Kirk to install one of
these units on the Enterprise to handle our uniforms, hmm?"

Chekov chuckled as he opened the packet and shook out what was to
become his costume for the night.

"What are you going to select?"

"I can't decide, laddie. Maybe you have some ideas."

Scotty did have a good idea what he wanted, but he decided to see
what Chekov's reaction would be first. He flipped through a couple of
options, then turned to his main choice.

He heard Chekov's slight intake of breath. "That one's--an
interesting choice," the Russian said with a chuckle.

"I'm glad you think so. I just as well be comfortable at this bash."

Scotty selected the costume, then headed to the padd. The system
processed his body dimensions as well. After a few moments, his
costume arrived.

As the engineer opened his packet and shook out the garments of his
costume, he kept an eye on his companion. Chekov had already pulled
off his uniform tunic and black T-shirt, and was working on removing
his pants. The Russian didn't seem to notice Scotty's admiring looks
his way as the lad pulled off his boots and the rest of his clothing--
including his briefs. Apparently, Chekov made the assumption that the
skin-tight pants wouldn't allow much room to hide a panty-line. The
engineer wasn't complaining a bit.

Scotty sucked in a short breath. God, the lad was beautiful. The
compact frame was all muscle and smooth skin. Age and gravity hadn't
touched the youthful physique and the engineer couldn't help but take
sidelong glances at the round buttocks. How he longed to place his
hands on those firm mounds of flesh and feel them against his groin.

The engineer started concentrating on pulling off his clothes, afraid
Chekov would notice his lustful glances. He was slightly surprised by
the lad's lack of modesty in his presence--figuring it was an effect
of the vodka. Nevertheless, he was still afraid the Russian would
suddenly turn shy if faced with Scotty's desire. Chekov always seemed
to be shy when it came to matters of his physical body--not to mention
sex in general. He didn't want to scare the lad away.

Scotty grunted as he pulled the purple robe on over his body. It had
long flowing sleeves that caught the breeze when he waved his arms. He
donned the sandals and, lastly, the magician's hat and mask.

Turning around, he watched as Chekov struggled to tie his sandals.

"Here, let me help you with that."

Scotty knelt down and tied the errant sandal into place, resting the
lad's small foot in the palm of his hand. Even the young man's feet
were perfect-- delicate and well formed.

It wasn't until he stood up that he noticed Chekov wasn't wearing the
white tunic that came with his costume. When asked, the Russian just
shrugged and said, "Too hot."

Scotty didn't complain. The Russian's bare chest showed underneath
the open, crimson jacket. He looked more like a gypsy with his bare
arms and midriff.

"I could get you a hoop for that belly button," Scotty teased.

Chekov looked up at him. "Don't tempt me. Sulu always wanted me to
get pierced there."

"What stopped you?"

Chekov shrugged. "It was my way of rebelling, I guess. I told him I'd
get one if he did. He never did."

"Very astute of you, lad."

Scotty looked down at the young man. Even with the mask over the
lad's face, the Scotsman could recognize the boyish features of the
finely sculptured face. The marble statues at the entrance held
nothing over the youth that now stood before him so expectantly.

"Let's join the party, shall we?"

Chekov nodded his head. They placed their uniforms and boots in a
secure locker in the dressing room. Then Scotty wrapped his arm around
the Russian's waist and steered him out into the main hall.

It wasn't difficult to find where the main party was located. One
just needed to follow the music and the roar of voices, laughter, and
singing.

As the two men entered the spacious room, they were immediately
caught up amidst the dancing throng of bodies. Scotty was glad he had
kept a protective arm around Chekov, otherwise he feared the young man
would have been pulled away in the melee.

The engineer wrapped both arms around the Russian's waist. "I hope ye
saved the first dance for me, lad."

Chekov looked up at Scotty and smiled. He put his arms around the
burly engineer and said, "I'm all yours, Mr. Scott."

"Call me Montgomery, lad. Or, better yet, Monty."

"Okay, Monty."

Scotty worked the two of them more towards the center of the dance
floor. Things seemed a little less chaotic there than at the edges.

Chekov swayed in time with the music, seemingly at ease in Scotty's
strong embrace. As they moved together in rhythm to the music, Scotty
started to hum to himself. He bent his head down, resting his cheek on
top of the lad's head.

Suddenly realizing that he knew the words to the song the band was
currently performing, Scotty started to sing softly.

"Let me be the one who saves you,
Let me be the one who's there.
Let me take you from your sorrows,
Let me show how much I care--"

Scotty started humming again, not remembering the rest of the lyrics
of the forgettable tune. He felt Chekov lean in closer, almost melting
in his embrace. This was so good. Oh god, this was so good.

The tune ended too quickly. Without separating, or looking into each
other's eyes, Scotty pulled one arm of his robe around Chekov, totally
enfolding him in the purple fabric.

The music started again, a fast, upbeat tune. Scotty felt Chekov bump
against him and the two started gyrating to the steady, seductive
beat.

Chekov bent his head up, looking straight into the Scotsman's eyes.
His hands rested on Scotty's hips as they moved in rhythm to the
music.

Scotty looked down into the Russian's eyes and suddenly thought he
had never seen eyes so black before.

He felt Chekov lean closer, felt their thighs rub against each other,
felt warm lips caress his throat. Scotty's cock responded in an
instant.

The engineer clamped the fabric of his robe around Chekov with one
hand. Certain the fabric would stay in place, he moved his free hand
down the Russian's back until he found a round buttock.

Scotty heard the Russian sigh softly against his chest. He felt the
young man press his body hard against him, felt a hand move from his
hip to his backside. He could feel the Russian's hardness underneath
the tight pants. He was certain the lad could feel his own hard steel
through the thick fabric of the robe. And still they rubbed together
to the frantic beat of the bass and drum. Oh god, this was so good. So
good.

Scotty turned Chekov around in mid-beat, spooning the young man
against him. The two men rubbed and slid against each other, hidden
from view under the billowing fabric of Scotty's robe. He felt Chekov
spread his legs slightly. The engineer pressed his hardness into the
Russian's buttocks, grinding into him, retreating, then pressing into
him again and again as if they were naked underneath and Scotty was
inside the Russian. As if his cock could pierce through the fabric and
find its way inside that firm, round ass. Inside where he wanted to
be. Oh god, how he wanted to be.

The engineer ran his hand down from Chekov's bare chest, along his
flat stomach, and to the waistband of his tight pants. He wriggled a
finger inside, then reached under the fabric with his entire hand to
the aroused cock below. He heard Chekov gasp, felt the young man's
cock jump within the tight confines of the pants.

Scotty felt Chekov reach back with his left hand and grip the
engineer's hip through the folds in the robe. He noticed that the
ensign's other hand came to rest on his right arm--the arm that was
attached to the hand that was stroking the lad's hard cock.

They continued to gyrate and grind and rub their bodies together to
the quickening pulse of the music. Harder and harder. Faster and
faster. He felt the lad's ass wiggle against his groin, countering
every motion Scotty made, thrusting his hips backwards as if he were
taking in Scotty's entire length.

Oh, this was so good. Scotty didn't want the music to end. He closed
his eyes, concentrating on the music, the hot, writhing body in his
arms, and the hard organ pulsing in his hand.

As the music built to its final climax, Scotty felt himself come in a
wild rush. With a groan, he pressed against Chekov's damp, sweaty
form. He felt a warm wetness explode in his hand as the Russian came
with him.

Chekov let out a voluptuous, earth-shattering, passionate moan, just
as the music blared its ending. Scotty doubted that anyone heard the
lad over the deafening music, but he did. Oh god, he did. The Scotsman
smiled, his face pressed against the back of Chekov's neck.

Without missing a beat, the music started again--a nice slow tune this
time.

Scotty pulled his hand out of Chekov's pants, wiping the warm
stickiness on the inside of his robe. He turned the lad around to face
him.

The Russian looked up into Scotty's eyes. "I--I'm not sure if I can
dance anymore," Chekov whispered, a dazed expression on his face.

Scotty smiled. "Aye, lad. That last one was wee bit
too--ah--inspirational."

He looked down into Chekov's eyes. What he saw in those dark,
fathomless eyes made his heart skip a beat.

"Do--do you think we could catch our breaths somewhere? Somewhere
quiet?" Chekov swayed against him, catching him around the waist.

"Aye, laddie. I think we could find somewhere nice to rest a spell."

Scotty steered the Russian through the throng of dancers. He found it
was much easier to get past the crowd when the band was playing a slow
tune rather than the gyrating, seductive tune of before. As they moved
through the crowd, Scotty noticed Uhura and Geoff M'Benga dancing in
the corner. Uhura opened her eyes just as Scotty was about to look
away. They locked gazes, recognition in her eyes. Uhura looked at
Scotty, then at Chekov, and smiled. Closing her eyes, she leaned back
towards her beau, burying her face in Dr. M'Benga's dark tunic.

The Scotsman made a quick inquiry at the front door, and with credit
chip in hand, he and Chekov were led to a private sitting room,
upstairs, overlooking the dance floor.

Once the door was closed behind them, Scotty removed his mask and
magician's hat. Chekov sighed softly, pulling the mask from his face
as well.

"Ah, laddie. About what happened down there--"

Chekov looked up at Scotty, a soft smile forming over his lips. He
pulled off his crimson vest.

"Can you help me with my sandals, Monty?"

Scotty chuckled. "Of course, lad."

The engineer steered the Russian to the loveseat. Chekov sank down
into the cushions with a loud, satisfied moan. Scotty bent down,
picking up one of Chekov's feet. He untied the sandal and let it drop.
He then removed the other sandal. He cupped the delicate foot in his
hands, then started to stroke and massage it with the palms of his
hands.

"Mmmmm. That feels good."

Prompted by the positive feedback, Scotty continued massaging the
tendons and muscles in the smooth foot. He brought the foot up to his
mouth, then took the little toe between his lips. He felt Chekov's
body lurch a little bit, but when the Russian sighed and didn't pull
his foot away, Scotty took that as a sign to continue.

He sucked each toe completely, enjoying every little moan that the lad
made as he worked his way along the foot. When he got to the big toe,
Scotty took it into his mouth and swirled his tongue around it,
sucking and pulling on it just as he envisioned sucking on the lad's
erect cock.

"Monty--"

Scotty looked up, wondering whether he had gotten a wee bit carried
away.

Chekov was gazing down at him, his fingers touching his nipple, one
hand
starting to reach down to the growing bulge under his tight pants.

Scotty didn't need any more prompting. He released the foot, then
knelt on the loveseat next to the Russian. He leaned over the lad and
ran his fingertips over the fastenings to Chekov's pants.

"Are ye sure, laddie?"

Chekov didn't answer, just nodded his head.

He grinned at the Russian. Chekov wanted this. Scotty wanted this. Oh
god. How he wanted this. His whole body burned for this.

He unhooked the fastenings to the tight, black pants and peeled the
fabric apart. Chekov lifted his hips slightly to help, and Scotty
pulled the garment down over the young man's hips. Freed from the
confining fabric at last, the Russian's cock arched up in full
erection.

The Scotsman ran his fingertips down the hard shaft, from tip to root.
It jumped slightly at his touch and Chekov let out a low growl of
pleasure. Suddenly wanting to taste what he had only imagined until
then, Scotty took the tip in his mouth. He quickly focused himself to
the task, sucking the head, licking the salty moisture that was
forming there.

He felt Chekov's fingertips brush through his hair, over his
shoulders,
urging him forward.

"Oh! Monty. Oh god."

How he had wanted to hear those words from this man. Scotty worked the
hard cock down deep inside his mouth, down his throat, and then back
out again. He repeated the process, running his tongue down the
throbbing vein beneath, feeling the Russian's build-up to completion,
smelling the sweet musk of maleness beneath him. He sucked and thrust
the hard organ inside his mouth, harder, faster, using his fingertips
to cup the lad's scrotum and firm sacs. He wanted so much to taste the
lad, to drink all that he offered, to milk him to total ecstasy.

Scotty moved his hands below, pulling and kneading the Russian's
round, firm buttocks as he worked his mouth around the hard cock.
Feeling the young man's muscles suddenly clench, the engineer worked
his mouth down the shaft one last time. Suddenly, with a loud cry,
Chekov came in a shuddering, overpowering climax.

The Scotsman milked each shudder, each convulsion, until the climax
was over. He sat up on the loveseat next to Chekov, caressing the
Russian's face, holding him, soothing him with sweet whispers, pouring
out his heart to the shivering, sated lad.

When the Russian could speak again, he looked up into Scotty's eyes
and asked sleepily, "Do we have this room for the night?"

Scotty smiled. "Aye. Would ye like to stay with me t'night, lad?"

Chekov grinned up at him, nodding his head.

"Uh. There is one wee thing I need to ask ye, laddie."

"Da?"

"Ye canna go back to Sulu after this, can ye? Nae after this."

Chekov blinked.

Scotty held his breath for a long moment, then continued, "I-I dinna
think I could stand to lose ye, laddie. Please say ye'll be mine."

Chekov smiled up at him, his face beaming with love. "Does this sofa
pull out?"

"Nae, laddie. But I have a much better idea."

Scotty chuckled and helped the Russian loosen the ankle fasteners and
pull the black pants off of his body. The garment ended up in a pile
of clothes on the floor, along with the scotman's robe.

With credit chip in hand, Scotty steered the young Russian to a
console that was built into the far wall of the room. He ran the chip
through, then made a selection from the menu. A doorway appeared next
to the console--a doorway that led into a spacious bedroom suite.

The engineer steered Chekov into the dimly-lit room, barely taking the
time to pull off the top covers before pressing the Russian down onto
the mattress.

Scotty noticed that Caesar's Club left nothing to chance. There was a
large assortment of lubricants and other preparations on the end
table, perfect for what he had in mind.

He selected one of the vials and warmed it in his hand. Chekov was
lying on his back, his eyes aglow with love. Scotty swallowed. Was
this how the lad had looked at Sulu when they first became lovers? He
didn't want to even think about that now. Pavel Chekov was here in bed
with him. He could hardly believe it was true.

Scotty flicked open the vial of oil with his thumb and poured it out
onto the palms of his hands. He ran a well-oiled palm down Chekov's
chest, then rubbed his index finger and thumb over a nipple until it
hardened like a jewel. He did the same thing on the other nipple,
leaning down and sucking this time until the nub was hard against his
tongue.

He ran his hands down the young man's slim torso, feeling the Russian
shiver in anticipation. How long had it been since Sulu had done this
with Chekov? How long had the lad longed to be touched this way?

Scotty pushed all thoughts of Sulu aside. He was here. Sulu wasn't.
That was Sulu's loss. And he planned to never allow the helmsman an
opportunity to get this close to the lad again. It would have to be
Pavel's choice, of course, but Scotty planned to do everything within
his ability and skill to keep the Russian satisfied and happy so he
wouldn't want to go anywhere else.

He ran his hands over the hardening cock, feeling the Russian's body
come alive, feeling the passion building again. He smiled down at the
lad, running his hands down the insides of the young man's thighs,
massaging the backs of both strong legs, rubbing the oil into calves,
shins, and ankles. He ended by giving both feet a good massage and
oiling.

He moved back up the Russian's body and leaned down. Scotty captured
Chekov's lips in a soft kiss. They deepened the kiss, hands groping
and caressing, finding those places that caused the other man to
shudder.

Scotty broke off the kiss, gasping for breath. The lad knew how to
kiss.

When he was able to catch his breath, Scotty nuzzled into the
Russian's ear and murmured, "Turn over, love."

He heard Chekov's soft chuckle, then the young man obliged by rolling
over onto his stomach.

Scotty took another tube of oil, heated it, and poured the contents
out over the Russian's smooth back. He worked the oil in good, feeling
every muscle in the young man's shoulders, along each rib, down the
spine, and to the firm mounds below.

He brushed a fingertip down the lad's cleft, feeling Chekov's body
jerk against him.

"I want you," the Russian groaned. His hands gripped the pillow at his
head, and his hips thrust back slightly with every touch of Scotty's
fingers.

Scotty smiled. It was a simple request, an earnest one. It was a
request he hoped the lad would say over and over to him in the minutes
and hours and days and weeks and months and years ahead.

Scotty leaned down and whispered into the lad's ear, "I want to be
inside ye. Is that okay with ye, lad?"

"Yes. Please, Monty."

Scotty helped the Russian position himself atop the pillows and
blankets. He spread the lad's buttocks, giving better access to his
target.

The engineer smeared the contents of another tube of oil over his
fingertips, then ran his hand back down to the firm mounds of flesh
beneath him. He had dreamt about this--ever since Chekov returned
alive from Tombstone. He had dreamt of being with the lad, entering
him like this, feeling his cock held tightly inside this body,
thrusting, bringing them both to completion.

He gently prepared the Russian, starting with one finger, then a
second and a third. He had no idea how long it had been since the lad
had been with Sulu this way. He didn't want to hurt him, in any case.

When he was certain the lad was ready, Scotty oiled his own cock,
rubbing himself back to full hardness in the process. He centered the
head with the entrance to Chekov's body, then pushed it in until it
was past the tight ring. Scotty then pushed ahead with light thrusts
until he was all the way inside.

He ran his hands up the Russian's back, then down underneath, pulling
up on Chekov's hips until the lad was in a half-kneeling stance on the
bed. Chekov responded with a thrust forward, causing Scotty's cock to
slide almost all the way back out.

They began undulating against each other, picking up the same rhythm
as the muffled music on the dance floor beneath their privacy window.
Scotty pounded into the luscious body beneath him, the Russian
thrusting his hips back in counter motion, building the pleasure
between them. He rode the lad hard, grasping the hard erection and
pumping to the same beat. When he thought for sure the ride was over,
they managed to build to a higher level.

Finally, as the music beneath their window rose to a wild, frantic,
fever-pitched crescendo, Scotty came with a loud, agonizing cry. As
his cock jerked within the Russian, filling the channel to the brim
with his seed, Scotty felt the lad clench around him. Warm ejaculate
exploded into Scotty's hand. Strong muscles held his cock tight,
causing a series of contractions to shiver through the engineer's
body.

The two men collapsed in a sweaty, breathless heap on the bed.

When they could move again, Scotty gently pulled out. Spooning the
young man against him, he wrapped his arms affectionately around
Chekov and pressed his lips along the back of the lad's sweat-beaded
neck.

"Ye dinna answer my question, laddie. I hope ye find it in yer heart
to stay with me. Please say ye canna go back to Sulu after tonight."

Chekov moaned softly, snuggling back into Scotty's strong embrace.

"Mmmmmmmm. Sulu who?"

---

The End