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Peja's Wonderful World of Makebelieve Import
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2020-11-05
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Diplomatic Immunity

Summary:

Someone give me a fic where McCoy/Chekov are together in an established relationship (if the crew knows or not is up to the dear, blessed anon) and McCoy is captured/tortured on an away mission.

Let's see Chekov being the strong supportive one and maybe kicking some ass, because no one messes with his man.

Written for the st_xi_kink_meme

http://community.livejournal.com/st_xi_kink_meme/

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Work Text:

Ensign Pavel Chekov had just sat down to breakfast. He looked up when two off-duty ensigns came in discussing the early morning happenings. It was always good to know what was going on aboard the Enterprise, so he listened as they sat down with their coffee.

“And, of course all hell broke loose in the transporter room. I mean, there he was, lying on the pad. And nobody even knew he had been gone.”

“What? You’re kidding. Why did he leave?”

“No, not kidding. And that’s just it, nobody knows for certain why. He got a private comm and left. And until he can tell them what happened…”

“I bet the Captain’s upset.”

“Upset is not the word! I mean, what if it was your best friend they found unconscious and beaten to a bloody pulp?!”

Chekov turned to the ensigns. “You do not mean Dr. McCoy, do you?” he asked stiffly.

“Yeah, Dr. McCoy. Wh…”

The teenager pushed back from the table and jumped up already running. He cleared the corridors by doing as he’d done before when he was in a hurry. “Move, move, move!” he shouted as he sprinted towards Sickbay.

“Leo. Leo!”

He was stopped just outside Medical by Christine Chapel and two brawny red-shirts.

“Chekov, you can’t go in to see Dr. McCoy. Not now,” Nurse Chapel said in her quietly firm ‘official’ voice. She motioned for the two security officers to see that the young man obeyed her next instructions. “Either go to your duty station, or find some place else to be. I’ll clear a day off for you, if you like. And I’ll comm you personally when you can see Leonard.”

Chapel gave the teenager an encouraging smile. “He’ll be fine, Pavel. Dr. M’Benga and the Captain are with him now.”

The ensign knew there was no arguing with Chapel when she was like this. He stepped back from the men who stood in the Sickbay entrance, and straightened to his full height. The men still seemed to tower over him. He smoothed his rumpled tunic, and nodded once before turning and walking away from Sickbay.

To his disgust, he was followed by one of the guards. “Am going to observation deck, Smith. Will be good boy.”

“I know you will, Chekov. You’re a good man. I just thought you might like some company. Somebody to talk to?”

Chekov sighed, stopped, and turned storm-gray, concerned eyes on the man. “You saw him?” At ’Cupcake’s’ sigh, he went on. “How bad is Leo, eh, Dr. McCoy hurt?”

Before Smith could answer, Sulu came striding down the corridor. “You can go back to Sickbay, Matt. I’ll stay with Chekov.”

“Just a minute, Sulu. Chekov, I’ve seen worse. He’ll be okay. They just want to get all he facts as soon as he wakes up.”

The red-shirt left and Chekov and Sulu entered the observation deck. Below them the deceptively beautiful green and blue planet, Wotan IV, seemed to float above diamond-strewn black velvet. As they now knew, it was beautiful. And dangerous.

“What is this ’stay with Chekov?’ I am adult. Can take care…”

“Stop. You don’t have to act like you’re not hurting, Pavel. Dr. McCoy may be your boyfriend, but I’m your best bud. I can seen how happy you both are. Hell, everybody says the doctor’s been a lot calmer since you’ve been together.”

Da. And now this bad thing has happened to us. Sulu, have you heard why Leo was down there?” The ensign pointed with his chin at the planet.

“Not really, Chekov. I only know he was called planetside during gamma shift. Something about one of the Princes needing medical attention.”

“Prince?” The teenager looked back at his friend. “Was that bastard Xipilli? Was him, Sulu?!”

“I don’t know, Chekov. I really don’t know,” Sulu assured him. “Sorry.

“Look, we both have the day off now. Why don’t we see what we can come up with? Do our own investigation?”

Da. Good idea. Can use computer in my room.”

* * * * * * * * * * *

“Keptin? Dr. McCoy, how is he?” Chekov asked when he saw Kirk leaving Sickbay just a few hours later.

“He’s good. You can go in to see him now if you like.” The Captain smiled at the young ensign. He’d heard about the encounter with Chapel earlier.

“Ah, nyet, no. First must show you these. Is very important.”

“Look, Chekov, why don’t we wait until tomorrow for that…”

“Concerns Doctor.” The young man handed the Captain a PADD. “Here is evidence of comm from Wotan IV. Came from suite of Prince Xipilli in Droft City Palace at 0231:21 hours local planet time. Request was for doctor to treat emergency in Prince’s quarters. Said it was Federation xenologist hurt.

“Dr. McCoy beamed down at 0257:02 hours LPT.” Chekov stopped his recitation as crewmembers passed along the corridor before he went on.

“Doctor went into Prince’s suite. There was no emergency. Learn rest from Xipilli’s major domo, Renc.

“The Prince see, eh, saw Dr. McCoy at reception for Enterprise crew. He, hm, proposition? him, but he tells him nyet. No.” Chekov shook his head. “Sulu, Rand, Mitchell, we can all attest.

“Renc says Prince swears he will have Doctor, no matter. So he makes up plan. Lures him to planetside. Offers him intoxicants, jewels, money, whatever he wants.

“Leo says nyet!”

Kirk began to nod his head. “I get it, Chekov. I get it.”

“Must move fast, Keptin. Evidence to crime in Xipilli’s suite!”

“You’re right, Chekov. I’ll contact King Xoloppu right away. Good work, ensign. Now you go tell Bones, okay?”

“Aye, Keptin!” The teenager snapped off a salute and gave Kirk a grin before turning and striding off towards Sickbay.

* * * * * * * * * *

Chekov was met just inside Sickbay by Nurse Chapel. He whispered, “Keptin said…”

“Come in, come in. Whoever you are, come in and talk to me, damnit! I’m bored to tears!”

“As I’m sure you can hear, he’s just fine,” Chapel said with a grin. “We just want to keep him overnight for observation.”

“Good luck with that!” McCoy yelled.

The teenager began to snicker.

“Hey! Is that… Chekov? Get your ass over here, kid!”

“Nurse Chapel, he is on pain medicine, da?”

“Yes, how can you tell?” she asked facetiously. She and Chekov both giggled before going over to Dr. McCoy’s biobed. “I’ll leave you two alone. Be good,” Chapel said brightly as she walked away.

Chekov stood beside McCoy and examined his face closely before reaching out and touching his hand tentatively. “You are well, Leo?”

McCoy grabbed Chekov’s hand and patted it. “’M fine, darlin’. Really, really good. Really. ’N you?” He grinned up at the teenager. “Ya think you can spring me, kid?”

Nyet, Leo. Christine would kill me. Then you.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right, darlin’. Okay, come up here with me.” The Doctor patted the bed beside his hip. He scooted over to the side, and it was a good thing there was a railing there or he would have fallen to the floor. He waited until Chekov was beside him, then put his arms around him. “That’s better,” he said quietly.

McCoy leaned in close to the teen and bent his head to kiss him. But he moved too quickly and smashed his lips into Chekov’s nose.

“Owie!”

“Oops. C’mere, kid. Let’s try…”

“Eh, wait.” The younger man reached up to hold McCoy’s face tenderly, then pulled it down to him. “Leo, we will have snogging. Then you will sleep. Okay?”

“Okay, dorogoy Pavel, whatever you say.”

“Yes, darling Leo.”

* * * * * * * * * *

“I’ve taken this as far as I can, Bones. I’m sorry. Wotan IV, is not a member of the Federation yet. And even if they were, it’s still policy that ‘what happens on planet stays on planet.’”

“Bullshit,” Chekov muttered under his breath. But the word came out sounding more like ‘boolsheet.’

The Captain ignored the ensign and went on. “Unfortunately, there’s also the fact that you were assaulted by a member of the ruling Royal Family. Under Federation law, he has diplomatic immunity.”

“So that’s it, huh? Well, fuck me. Again.” Dr. McCoy got up from his chair and got three glasses and his bottle of Jack. He poured each of them a shot, and drank his down. “Glad you waited till I was off duty to give me the news, Jim.”

“I really am sorry, Bones. Pike did what he could…”

“Oh, I know,” the doctor said as he retook his seat and poured another drink for himself.

I do not understand this. In Russia we have eye for eye…”

“What, the Russians invented revenge?” McCoy snickered into his glass, and Kirk grinned behind his.

“We call it vengeance!”

Both the older men shook their heads at the vehemently pronounced wengeance.

“Well, this is Starfleet, and we’re Federation, Chekov. I’m afraid it’s something we have to live with. Now, I have a meeting to get to. I suggest you gentlemen call it a day. Get out of here.”

Kirk had been gone several minutes and McCoy had made no move to leave his office. Instead, he had had another drink.

Chekov watched him closely. Since the night he had stayed with the doctor in Sickbay, he had been sharing McCoy’s quarters and bed. For no other reason than because he was the only one the older man trusted.

If this evening was like all the others, the doctor would do his best to drink himself into oblivion. Even so, he would wake several times during the night, soaked with sweat, thrashing and moaning. It would often take the teen hours to calm him down. In the morning McCoy would swear he remembered nothing of the nightmares that had woken him. But he refused to look Chekov in the eye when he said it.

Any suggestion that Leonard seek professional psychological help was met with stony silence and a steely stare. Pavel had hoped that when the doctor saw his assailant punished for the assault, it would help to ease his tormented nights.

However, it seemed that there would be no satisfactory resolution. At least not through Federation law. Or even the ordinary laws of Wotan IV. It was time Chekov explored the extraordinary.

* * * * * * * * * *

“You have to be out of your tiny little fuckin’ mind, Jim,” McCoy said blandly. “There’s no way I’m going back down to that hellhole.” The doctor waved his friend away. “Get out of here. I’m a doctor, damnit, not a diplomat. Especially not to a planet where I got the shit beat out of me.”

“It’s not a request, Bones. It’s an order. Archer had to make it an order. Come on, you know I wouldn’t do this to you on my own. Hell, man, the only people who go down there now are the xenologists. And only because they’re contractors and they don’t get paid if they don’t work.

“Trust me, Bones, none of the crew wants to go planetside.” Kirk shrugged. “Just be ready to leave tomorrow at 1900.”

The Captain left the CMO’s quarters to find Chekov waiting in the corridor. He said nothing to the teenaged ensign. He much preferred to let the doctor break the news of the enforced attendance at the diplomatic function to the sometimes volatile young Russian.

Chekov nodded as he went past Kirk. He stopped just inside the door and let it close behind him. There was no mistaking the haunted look in McCoy’s hazel eyes as they looked at one another.

“Pavel, I have some bad news…”

“Leoshka, I have heard already.” The young man went and put his arms around his taller lover’s waist and leaned into him. “Ljubimyj, it will be okay. You will have me beside you, sweetheart.”

“I know I will, Pasha,” the doctor said softly as he leaned down and kissed Pavel. It was a gentle and very brief kiss, as all their kisses had been since the attack. The young man sighed as Leonard left him to go to his desk and start reading reports.

The evening passed as the last several had done. Chekov made sure the doctor ate, and tried to keep him from drinking until he passed out. This night was a little more successful than usual as he managed to get the older man to shower before falling into his bed.

Crawling in beside him, the teenager tucked himself into McCoy’s side and threw an arm across his waist. They were both quiet for a long time, but each was aware that the other was still awake. It was hours before either one slept.

The next day’s work shift seemed to go faster than normal. Precisely at 1900 hours McCoy and Chekov, resplendent in dress uniform, presented themselves for beamdown to Wotan IV. Kirk, Spock, Uhura and Sulu were already waiting on the transporter pad.

“If ye’ll move, gentlemen, I can get ye planetside. Then I’ll be coming along behind ye momentarily,” engineer Scot advised. He too was attired in his dress uniform and would be following with the last party beaming down. He waved jauntily at the disappearing people.

As soon as they could, the Captain led the others to join the crewmembers who had beamed down earlier. Kirk was surprised to find so many people from the Enterprise waiting. After what had happened to Dr. McCoy, he had only ordered his senior officers, and a large contingent of security for them, to attend this affair.

McCoy looked around at his fellow crewmembers. There was an aura of excitement that surrounded them that the CMO couldn’t understand. He also notice that there was none of the mingling with the Wotani as there had been at the first State Banquet. He glanced at Chekov beside him. The teenager seemed calm -- and somehow smug -- as he stood with arms crossed and looked around the opulently decorated hall.

The Wotani Royal Residence was a sprawling compound of open, multi-windowed buildings connected by breezeways and half-walled corridors. Gardens of exotic trees and flowers surrounded each building providing cool and inviting vistas. The hall where they were was the largest, and could hold at least a thousand people.

McCoy surreptitiously scanned the crowd of Wotani for the man who had attacked him. As much as he hated himself for it, he was relieved not to see the Prince. He relaxed minutely.

King Xoloppu’s Prime Minister, Yantoz approached the Starfleet party and bowed low before Captain Kirk. “Captain, we are honored by your presence, and the presence of your crew. My King wishes to speak with you privately.” The Minister bowed again, and waited for a response.

Kirk considered, then nodded and he and two of the security officers followed Yantoz. The rest of the Enterprise crew moved as a group towards the buffet tables. There was a sumptuous feast laid out, and since the Wotani were a humanoid race, most of the festively arranged dishes were appealing to the human palate.

McCoy stood amongst his friends with his boyfriend by his side, and began to pick through the delicacies. The small orchestra that had been playing stopped for a break, and snatches of conversation could be heard.

A group of Wotani passed the table where McCoy, Chekov, Spock, Uhura, Sulu, Rand, Chapel and Scott were sitting. One of the females among the Wotani boldly looked over the Terrans and the Vulcan. She turned to the others and whispered loudly. “Which one do you think it was, Liddi? You know his taste better than I,” she said. Her tone dripped with insincere flattery.

The other female, Liddi, glanced at the humans sharply. “Oh, it was that one,” she said, boldly pointing at McCoy. “I was there when he summoned him, of course.” She didn’t bother to lower her voice.

Everyone at the table tensed as the Wotani moved on, still discussing the Prince and McCoy.

Sooka. Zavali yebalo!”

Everyone turned to look at Chekov, and Uhura gasped. McCoy chuckled. “That’s it, kid, give ‘em hell!”

“What? Oh, Wot! it’s those gauche Starfleet people.” The new voice was deep and rich, and might have been beautiful if not for the edge of contempt it held.

McCoy froze, and at the same time Chekov reached out to lay his hand over the doctor‘s. “Is okay,” he said without lowering his voice from it’s usual level. There was no doubt he knew everyone around him would hear. “Huesos.”

“Chekov,” Uhura hissed, “I don’t care if he doesn’t understand. You can’t call a Royal a cocksucker.”

The teen ensign shrugged and grinned at the lieutenant. “Okay. So I say so he understand. He is motherfucking cocksucker. And coward.”

The chaos those words caused in the hall drew the King, Yantoz and the Captain out of their meeting. Prince Xipilli was being restrained by his retinue. Held away from the Starfleet crew as he screamed curses and threats, he fought to free himself.

Chekov and the others rose from their seats when the Captain reached them. “What the hell is going on out here?!” He looked at the faces of his senior officers present. None of them seemed very upset by the Prince’s loss of control. “Spock?”

“Captain. We were discussing the xenolinguistic parameters involved in cross transliterate translation of Wotani versus certain Earth-human languages.” Spock glanced over at the still-raving Prince and raised an eyebrow. “Apparently the Prince has taken offence to our discussion, sir.” The Vulcan gave the Woltani a long look. “Perhaps he misunderstood.”

By this time the King and Minister Yantoz had come up. They had been speaking in low voices to the Prince’s retainers.

“Let’s go, people. I think there’s been enough excitement. He moved next to the doctor. “You okay, Bones?” he asked in a whisper.

Before he could get an answer, Yantoz came over to him. “The King wishes to express his sorrow at his son’s egregious actions.”

“No! No! No!” Xipilli screamed as he broke free and flung himself before his father. “I claim the right of duello!”

The King looked over at the Starfleet Captain. What were the chances the Terrans understood the concept of duello? And would the one challenged be capable of defending himself?

Kirk stepped up. “That’s not possible. None of my crew…”

“That one,” Xipilli spat out as he pointed at Chekov. “He insulted me, and I will have satisfaction!”

“As I was saying,” Kirk continued, “none of my crew…”

“I accept,” Chekov said quite loudly. The hall became silent at once.

The Captain glared at the teenager. “I can’t let you do this, ensign.”

“Please. Understand, sir, must do this,” he said softly. “For Leo,” he added so only Kirk could hear.

“This is an affair of honor, Captain,” the King said gravely. “And for more than just this misunderstanding, I think,” he added thoughtfully. He looked at the Starfleet boy-man, then at the man he knew was the doctor. He nodded at both of them.

“Tomorrow at sunrise, we meet on the Gaming Grounds. The contest will begin one hour after sunrise.” He turned to his son. “Go. Now.”

Watching as the Prince and his entourage swept out, the rest of the Wotani, and the Starfleet personnel, waited with the King in utter silence. That didn’t stop Kirk from glaring at Chekov and his officers. It was slowly becoming apparent that this whole fiasco had been at least partially planned. And that several members of his bridge crew had been in on the plan.

Yes. Sulu, Scotty, even Uhura refused to met his eye. Spock simply lifted an eyebrow and cocked his head in that infuriating way he had. It was one of his avoidance mechanisms, Kirk recognized.

“I would like to make an offer, Captain, to you and the Challenged…”

“Ensign Pavel Chekov,” Yantoz said, supplying the name with ease.

“Ensign Chekov. Yes. Please, I offer accommodations in the Royal suite. I can assure you won’t be disturbed.”

“That won’t be necess…”

“Majesty.” Chekov bowed. “Da. Yes. We will stay.” He pulled McCoy forward even though the doctor did his best to resist.

“Chekov, have you lost your mind!” he whispered vehemently.

“I should like to stay, also, Captain.”

“Aye, Captain.”

Before he knew it, there were almost a dozen crewmembers planning to stay the night in the Royal Compound. Kirk gave in and nodded to Yantoz. “Okay, count me in. Uh, thanks, yes, I’ll stay too.”

“Very good, very good!” King Xoloppu enthused. He clapped his hands and called out to the crowd. “Eat, drink, dance, make merry, my friends!” He moved off then with his own retinue around him.

Kirk turned from watching the King, to find that his own crew had scattered throughout the Hall. He spent most of the rest of the evening trying to corner McCoy and Chekov, but was constantly distracted by someone else.

Eventually the King retired for the evening with his retinue, but the party went on. Captain Kirk finally had to give up his search for the Doctor and Chekov when Spock informed him that they had left for the evening with the Prime Minister.

“Damnit, Spock, can you explain what’s going on? And don’t give me any of your doubletalk.” He was too tired to deal with Vulcan rhetoric.

“Very well, Captain.” Spock took up his lecturing pose. “Ensign Chekov is extremely embittered. He feels that Starfleet and the Federation failed Dr. McCoy.” Just from his tone, he made it clear he agreed.

“Mr. Chekov decided to seek justice through Wotani law. The duelo is a legal means of settling disputes. By Wotani convention it is available to all sentient beings.”

“All right. So Pavel and the Prince are going to fight a duel at dawn. With what kind of weapons? Phasers? Swords? Fists?”

“Captain, I do not know.” Spoke gave an almost-shrug of his right shoulder.

“Gentlebeings, I’ve come to escort you to the Royal Compound,” Yantoz said with a little bow. He gathered up the crewmembers who were staying overnight, and led them out of the hall.

* * * * * * * * * *

The guest room in the Royal Compound was huge. It had high ceilings with many tall and wide windows. Four enormous draped beds gave the room the look and feel of a dorm room for giants. The floors were covered with beautiful plush rugs. Small sitting and dining areas were scattered between the beds. And even though they had electricity, the Wotani avoided harsh lighting. The room was softly lit by small, pastel-colored lamps.

The Terrans and Vulcan entered the room. “Wotani are clan-oriented,” Sulu said. “’Clan is mother. Clan is father,’” he quoted. “Separating a clan is like, a supreme insult. It‘s a good way to start a war. What?” he asked when the others gave him incredulous looks. “I helped Pavel research everything with the xenologists.”

“Ah,” Spock said with a nod. “Fascinating.”

Kirk grimaced and sighed loudly.

One bed was already occupied, the drapes drawn closed hiding the occupants. The three women, Uhura, Rand and Chapel quickly changed into the sleeping garments provided by the Wotani and climbed into a second bed together.

Scotty stripped down to his boxers, and claimed the third bed and after only a moment, both Sulu and O’Reilly joined him. Mitchell looked at the empty bed. Then at Spock and Kirk. He grinned at them, then joined the other three men. Kirk gave a shrug, changed into a sleeping robe, and joined Spock in the last bed.

Chekov sighed deeply when the giggles from the women finally died out. Then the various sounds of snoring began from the men.

He and McCoy had left the party to avoid Kirk, and gone to bed. They hadn’t spoken to each other then, because several of the servants had been in the room arranging things. McCoy had fallen asleep and napped lightly until the others came in and woke him. Chekov now lay close beside the man, quietly listening to the sounds of the others.

Ya tebya lyublyu, Leoshka,” he said softly.

“Oh, kid, I love you too,” McCoy said before leaning over and kissing the teen. “But, Pasha, you’ve got me scared to death. A duel? What were you thinking? You know I don’t need you to do this, right?”

I need me to do, Leoshka. Sulu and me, did research about…” Pavel refused to speak the name. “He is svoloch'. Mean bastard, likes to hurt. No one should suffer because of him.”

“But the Wotani are afraid to do anything?”

Da. He has maimed, almost killed. Must be stopped. We find way.”

“So, this duel, tell me about it?”

* * * * * * * * * *

The Gaming Ground outside the capitol, Droft City, resembled the ancient Roman Coliseum on Earth. The exterior façade of a translucent white stone was fifteen stories high, and glowed pink in the morning light. People had been streaming into the Ground for hours, and now the tiers were packed. In just a few hours the news of the duel had spread city wide. McCoy and the others who had stayed overnight, climbed a short stairway into the King’s private loge. There they took their front row seats among the Royal retinue.

“Would you look at that?” McCoy asked, pointing to a large section in the tiers where everyone was wearing either red, blue, or gold shirts. They stood out brilliantly amongst the fifty thousand Wotani wearing their fashionably patterned pastels.

“Looks like most of the Enterprise crew is here,” Uhura commented.

“Indeed,” Spock replied. “And those crewmembers still aboard will be watching, I am sure.” He looked over at Rand and Chapel. Both women had their comms in hand, ready to record the duel.

Kirk, who was sitting to McCoy’s right, turned to his CMO. “Are you okay?” he asked softly.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Do you see Chekov? I don’t see him.”

 

Chekov, and Prime Minister Yantoz were in a private room where they relaxed while they waited for Prince Xipilli to arrive. They talked about Chekov’s strategy until the hour after sunrise was almost up. The teen looked over at Yantoz and grinned. “Is getting late. He will be here, da?”

“It’s an intimidation tactic used by the professional duellist. The Prince is a poseur, of course, but he likes to pretend otherwise.”

With a knock on the door, one of the King’s squires came into the room. “The Prince is coming,” she said. She looked at Chekov with a solemn expression on her childish face. “We all wish you luck, Chekov,” she said before she left.

Yantoz watched her go. “The Prince is not kind to children. The squires are entertainment for him.”

Prey, you mean,” Chekov almost spat out.

There was no answer other than a grunt from the older man as he got up from his chair and went to look out into the arena. “Yes, here he comes. Give him some time to get the feel of the crowd. I don’t think he’ll like it very much,” Yantoz said with a smile that only hinted at his pleasure anticipating day‘s end.

“Absolutely I will,” Chekov agreed with a smug smile of his own.

The acoustics in the arena itself were superb. Chekov was able to hear the rantings of Xipilli quite clearly, and giggled over some of the things he was being called. “Leo must wonder who Xipilli means. Never knew I was vicious, cruel, giant alien monster! Wish I had kept communicator, now.

“Must go, friend, get duel over!” Chekov offered his hand to shake, but Yanto pulled him in for a hug instead.

“Good luck, Chekov.”

The teen nodded. “Thank you. For everything.” Grinning, he swaggered out onto the grass field inside the arena.

The difference between the two men, especially after the Prince’s description, was ludicrous. The Gaming Ground reverberated with cheering and catcalls, and the laughter of the crowd.

The Prince was dessed in the multi-layered flowing robes favored by the Wotani aristocracy. His garments made him look heavier than he was. And the platform shoes added inches to his actual height, causing him to tower over Chekov. Xipilli made quite a spectacle alone. But when the slim Starfleet Ensign in his orderly uniform stopped beside Xipilli, the crowd went wild.

It took several minutes for the Wotani to quiet down before the King could formally introduce the duelists. The Prince received raucous catcalls, booing, and numerous epithets, while there was wild cheering and shouts of joy when Chekov was introduced.

The teen turned and bowed to the crowds, and the crowd’s cheering grew even louder. There was no doubt that Xipilli was furious. But he controlled himself. While he stayed quiet despite his anger, his rage showed clearly on his reddened, strained face and in his body language.

King Xoloppo continued his speech. “The duel will end when one of the combatants is unable to go on, unwilling to go on, or to first blood. Now it is time for the Challenge itself.

“As Prince Xipilli is the Challenger, Mr. Chekov will respond.” The King pointed down at the teenager. “What weapon do you choose Mr. Chekov?”

“Majesty, my weapon is -- my feet. Contest is race, running. Marathon. Forty-two kilometers.”

There was a spontaneous shout from the Starfleet personnel as they surged to their feet. It was well known that the teen was, in fact, a marathon runner. Then they had to explain their enthuiasm to the the Wotani around them. As the meaning of ‘marathon’ spread, the cheering escalated.

Xipilli looked up at the King. “Father, you can’t seriously be thinking about allowing this. Running is not a way to settle a Challenge! It’s ridiculous!”

“It may be unusual, but it is not forbidden, Prince Xipilli. If you do not wish to run, you may, of course, forfeit.”

“Never!” Xipilli shouted.

“Excellent!” the King said. “We will measure the Ground and you will run here.”

Chekov nodded, quite happy to be running on the beautifully kept green grass of the arena floor. The Prince, however, didn’t look very pleased about the situation. But because he had already made himself look like a fool, he had no choice but to go on or make himself look even more like a buffoon.

Prime Minister Yantoz and a group of other Royal Ministers went out to mark off the inside peremiter of the Ground. After taking their measurements and making their calculations, all of the Ministers finally agreed. Yantoz joined the Prince and Chekov in front of the King and bowed.

“It is eighty laps, Majesty.”

“Eighty laps?!” Xipilli shouted. But at the hissing of the crowd he quieted.

“Very well. The starting and ending line will be marked here, in front of us,” the King decreed. He looked down at his son and the teenager. “Well,” he said, sounding uncertain. “Get ready?”

Chekov nodded to the King, and sat down to remove his boots and socks. He handed them to a squire who had come out to help him. Then he stood up and removed his gold uniform tunic and the black shirt worn underneath. That left him wearing a third, sleeveless shirt. To the total delight of the women in the tiers, he removed his uniform trousers. Underneath, he was wearing a pair of running shorts. The Enterprise crewmembers all rose in a spontaneous show of support for the teenager -- Chekov had been something of a mascot for them since the beginning of their mission. When he began his stretches, their section erupted in applause.

The Terrans’ attitude was infectious, and soon the Wotani were cheering just as wildly. Chekov finished stretching and waved at the crowd before turning back to the Royal loge. He saluted the King, then turned to look at his boyfriend. “Leoshka, ty luchshe vseh.” He saluted Leonard, then turned back to the King. “Ready, Majesty.”

Kirk leaned close to his CMO. “What did he say, Bones?”

“Would you care if it was embarrassingly intimate? No, you probably wouldn’t.” McCoy shook his head. “He said I’m ‘the best.’” Then he grinned at his friend.

“Very well. Xipilli, Pavel, go!” the King shouted.

Chekov took off at a slow lope. He didn’t bother to look back as he ran.

The Prince took two strides in his platform shoes, tripped over the hem of his robes, stumbled and went down to his knees. He got up as quickly as he could, but he was tangled in his garb. He almost fell a second time, but only wobbled. Xipilli kicked off his shoes. Then he picked one up and threw it at McCoy.

The shoe hit the wall below where the doctor was sitting. “He throws like a girl,” McCoy commented. “Runs like one too.”

The Prince growled, and took another try at running. But now his flowing robes draped around him and hung several inches past his toes. They even formed a little train behind him.

McCoy looked past Spock, on his left. “Ya know, that dress would look mighty pretty on you, Uhura.” He winked.

Uhura, who was already hiding a smile behind her hand, began to laugh. She tried to stop, but she only laughed louder.

The doctor leaned a little more around Spock, and raised an eyebrow at her.

The Captain turned to look at Uhura too. “Do you need a time out?” he asked her.

Uhura collapsed against Spock’s shoulder, doing her best to stifle her near-hysterical laughs.

“Captain, I do believe Dr. McCoy has incited the Lieutenant into what you humans colloquially call a ’laughing fit.’ To try to remove her from this location without drawing more attention to her condition would be impossible.”

“Spock, it was a joke.” Kirk sighed and looked back down into the arena. Chekov was trotting lazily, half-way through the first lap. Xipilli had gathered his trailing robes up to free his feet and lower legs, and was doing his best to catch up to the younger man.

“Why doesn’t he take off some of that dress,” McCoy suddenly asked.

“Because the garment is all of a piece,” one of the Wotani nobles behind him answered. “Everything is sewn together to keep it from shifting or slipping.”

“So, why doesn’t he just take it off, then?” McCoy asked the older man. He too was dressed at the height of Wotani fashion in swathes of carefully arranged fabric.

The noble blushed scarlet. “Because, uh, um, ah, well…”

McCoy managed to avoid looking as nauseous as he felt. “I see. Well, no, I... Actually, I’d really, really rather not.” The thought of having to see Xipilli naked, literally made him feel sick. He turned back around to find both Kirk and Spock looking at him in concerned curiosity. “I’m okay. I’m okay.” He desperately needed to change the subject. “How’s Pavel doing?”

Kirk and Spock looked at each other across the doctor. It was a sure sign of McCoy’s agitation that he used his boyfriend’s first name in public.

“The kid’s doing great. He’s coming up to lap Xip,” Kirk replied.

“Xip?” several people asked at the same time.

“I presume you’re talkin’ about Prince, huh, Jim?” McCoy asked. He knew very well who he meant. That was why he was deliberately not looking at Kirk when he asked. There was no doubt he would see the mischief in the Captain’s blue eyes.

“Yeah. Him.”

“Think he’ll make a whole lap?” Sulu asked suddenly. His question sparked a serious conversation. The seriousness quickly degenerated into a spontaneous betting pool when O’Reilly started calculating odds. Odds eventually became contingent upon such variables as lap spreads. On whether Chekov sprinted, trotted, fast walked, slow walked or was simply standing still when ’Xip’ gave up.

Rand insisted on betting that Chekov went the whole eighty laps, and danced across the finish line.

* * * * * * * * * *

“Okay, explain it again, slowly.”

“Xip -- did Keptin really…”

“Yes. Now, go on!”

“Xip never lose a duel. Intimidate everyone with his status and, ah, his being vindictive. Even other Princes afraid. Older ones leave city. Younger ones with the Queen. She take, er, took them away too.”

“So, that’s why we never met the Queen or the Crown Prince. But, why did the King allow it? I mean, where did that ’clan is everything’ philosophy go?”

Chekov shrugged his shoulders. “Is very complicated society, Leoshka. Like in Russia. Clans invented in Russia.”

The doctor started to chuckle. “Okay. So tell me, Pasha, my molodoi chelovek, what will happen to the bastard now. Did you get your vengeance on Xip?”

“So I am your ‘young man,’ Leoshka?” The teen looked quizzically at the older man. They had been moving slowly towards a physical relationship when Leonard was assaulted. Afterwards, even though they had been sharing a bed, they had not been intimate.

Leonard moved to Pavel and took him in his arms. “Yes. Now, will you answer my question?”

“He has, um, lost face? Is humiliated, humbled. Reputation discredited. No longer has voice in clan. Has shown true character. Yantoz say, said, Xip gone from city.” Pavel laughed and shook his head. “Had to go alone. His wife, and most members of household refused to go.”

The teen leaned against his taller lover and looked up into his eyes. “Da, Leoshka, I am done with vengeance.”

“Good, kid, ’cause I want to celebrate.”

“Leo, we are at party to celebrate.”

“Pavel, I want to get off this planet and back to the Enterprise. I want to be alone with you. Understand?” Leonard looked deep into the teen’s blue-gray eyes.

“Ah. Yes, alone? Chyort voz'mi! Shit! Leo, this mean what I think?” He pulled out of McCoy’s arms, but grabbed his hand and led him away. Once they were out in one of the gardens he pulled out his comm. “Enterprise, two to beam up!”

In a very short time the two men were in the doctor’s quarters with the door locked, and the ship’s comm set to receive nothing less than a red alert.

Chekov went into McCoy’s arms again, but he felt too shy to do more than cling to the older man.

“Hey. Hey, kiddo. Pasha, darlin’.” Leonard kissed the young man’s curls. “What is it? Not ready for this, miliy moy?”

“I am really your sweet?”

“Yeah. You are, Pasha. I thought you knew that, kid. Tried to fight it, but you made it damn hard. I kinda wish we hadn’t a waited…”

Pavel put his hand over Leonard’s mouth. “Shhh, Leoshka. Just kiss me, please?”

The doctor was more than willing to kiss Pavel. Soon enough the teen got over his shyness. He was the one who kept trying to drag Leonard off the small couch and to the bed.

“What do you want, Pasha?”

Ya ne znayu, Leoshka! I don’t know!” Pavel stopped and dropped his hands. He looked down at the floor. “Ty tak nuzshna mne. I need you so much,” he mumbled.

“And I need you. I need you like… Oh, God, Pasha!” Leonard buried his face in Pavel’s neck for a moment, then kissed his lips chastely. “Will you come to bed with me, Pasha, dorogoy?”

Da, Leoshka.”

They were incredibly gentle with each other as they undressed. Helping one another, and sharing kisses and embraces. Maybe it took longer that way, but they had plenty of time.

At last they were both nude and they fell together into bed. Leonard moved over the slim pale body of the youth who was about to become his lover. Pavel lay spread across the bed, accepting every caress with sighs of pleasure. Leonard worked his way around until he knelt between Pavel’s thighs. The teen had long ago lost his English, and was constantly muttering in Russian. Some of which the doctor understood, and he grinned between the heated kisses he was pressing onto Pavel‘s belly.

“Ah! Sosi moi hui! Leoshka! Ai!”

“Yes, Pasha,” Leonard took Pavel’s engorged cock into his mouth and sucked gently. It didn’t take more than that for the doctor to have his lover coming with bucking hips and a choked off scream. Leonard pulled away so he could watch the ejaculate spilling forth. When it was over, he held Pavel until he calmed again.

“Darlin’ do ya want to stop? Was that enough?”

Pavel’s eyes opened, and he blinked and then smiled. “Nyet. Want all. Want you. All of you,” he answered on a sigh. “Want,” the teen flushed in embarrassment, and covered his face with his forearm, “yebatsya,” he whispered.

“All right, Pasha.” Leonard kissed his lover’s lips, then reached into the nightstand.

The sound of the drawer being opened and closed was loud in Pavel’s ears. He deliberately didn’t look at Leonard. It didn’t matter that he had talked with the doctor about everything beforehand. He was terrified now, and he couldn’t help it.

“Pasha, ya tebya lyublyu. I won’t hurt you, darlin’, I promise.”

“Okay.”

Leonard sighed and helped Pavel onto his belly, and to spread his legs wide. He was sitting back on his knees, about to open the lube when he looked at the teen’s ass. So beautiful. So vulnerable. The doctor reached out and gently spread the ass cheeks to reveal the tight pucker. Pavel groaned.

“Kid,” Leonard whispered as he leaned in and dragged his tongue over the orifice. Pavel jumped in reaction, and the doctor nipped at a cheek to encourage him from moving. Then he licked again, harder, and began circling, adding more pressure as the muscle loosened.

Pavel was breathing hard. After the first shock, the pleasurable feeling began to spread like warm honey inside him. “Poshyol, poshyol, poshyol,

poshyol…”

“Yes, Pasha, baby, yes.” Leonard opened the lube and coated his fingers with the thick stuff before leaning over Pavel and inserting first one finger, then a second into his already loosened anus. Pavel continued chanting, ‘fuck, fuck, fuck,‘ in Russian. Leonard grit his teeth, continuing to work his fingers in and around until he made sure he would not be hurting his lover when he finally took him. Done at last, he rolled Pavel over onto his back, pushed his knees to his chest.

“Now, baby, now,” Leonard whisperd, “open your eyes. Look at me, baby. See how much I love you.”

Pavel obeyed his lover, and looked into the hazel eyes as Leonard slowly entered the virgin channel. The teen’s breath caught at first when he felt the pressure inside him. But the expected pain never came. Just a feeling of being filled. Of wanting to be filled even more. He needed more. Pavel slipped his legs around Leonard’s waist and pulled with all his might. It was enough. His lover ground into him, and Pavel convulsed and came again.

Leonard laughed with delight at the look of carnal sensuality on Pavel’s face as he fucked his beautiful ass, And at the way Pavel looked up at him through lush lashes. He couldn’t help but lean up to kiss the lips that turned up in a selfsatisfied smile.

“I wish…you could see…yourself…darlin‘.” Leonard panted out between thrusts. “So beautiful.”

“Leoshka, ah! It is you,” Pavel managed to say, “beautiful!” He tightened his legs around Leonard’s waist again. He clenched his internal muscles around the cock stroking in his ass. Pavel grinned at the sounds Leonard made.

“Fuck, Pasha,” Leonard ground out. “So good, baby. I’m gonna come. Yeah!” And then he did. In a glorious burst that left his semen deep in Pavel. Deep in the smooth, velvet soft channel that still clenched his softening cock. He leaned up to kiss his lover, and carefully pulled out of Pavel’s ass.

Leonard slid down beside Pavel and pulled him into his arms. He continued to kiss the teen until the two lovers drifted off to sleep.

 

Authors’ Notes:

Written 11-16 to 11-27-09

Russian to English -- Is hard! There aren’t literal ‘word-for-word’ translations in most cases. I trolled many Russian sites to get the phrases used in this story. If they’re wrong, mea culpa.

Sooka. Zavali yebalo! -- Bitch. Shut the fuck up!

The Gaming Ground is based on the Flavian Coliseum in Rome. If you have seen Gladiator, picture that but with the actual arena looking like a ball field.

Marathon = 26 miles

 

Chekov’s accent/lack of one -- ‘Keptin’ comes direct from the novelization. It’s like, canon, baby! I prefer to use cadence rather than replacing ’v’ with ’w’ for the rest of Chekov’s speech. Um, yeah, and Chekov would call himself ’Pawel’, which is close to the pronunciation of Paul, which is the Anglicized version of Pavel.

Ya ne znayu -- Oh shit!

Notes:

This orphaned work was originally on Pejas WWOMB posted by author ReneeMR.
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