Title: The Wirgin Islands
Author: lesyeuxverts
Word Count: 520
Rating: R
Pairing: Kirk/Chekov
Warnings: first time, sex pollen, ridiculous accent :)
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Summary: Jim has his priorities straight.
AN: Thanks to eeyore9990 for helping me with the transliteration of Chekov's accent, and for all her super-helpful suggestions. This is for the_con_cept - happy BBTP day!



There are only so many extraneous missions that Jim can order before Spock (or some stuffy admiral looking over their logs) becomes suspicious. After stopping for supplies at Venus and taking their first shore leave on the Virgin Islands, Jim knows he has to be more careful.

He asks Chekov to give the standard health and safety lecture to the crew before they beam down for their second shore leave (Alpha Proteus II, more's the pity), but in spite of the fact that he rewrote it to include the word "vagina" at least six times, Chekov rattles off the lecture in its original form and scurries off afterwards, red-faced.

"Keptin?" he asks, when Jim stops him. "If you have not done enough to embarrass me yet–"

Jim stops him short, grabbing his elbow. "Hey," he says. "I never meant to embarrass you."

"Then what–"

"Hey," Jim says again. "Your accent is … kind of cute."

If anything, Chekov's face turns redder. He yanks his arm out of Jim's grip and runs down the corridor, shouting over his shoulder, "I am not cute."

Jim watches his retreating back and is forced to disagree.

It isn't a laughing matter when their next mission takes them to Vavra (Starfleet's orders, honestly) and Jim has just inhaled a lungful of some sort of strange pollen, and everything that Chekov says makes him hard.

"Talk dirty to me," he says as he drops to his knees in front of Chekov, unfastening his trousers. The rest of the landing party is affected, too – he can see them doing unspeakable things out of the corner of his eye – but the only thing that matters is Chekov, and getting his clothes off as soon as possible.

"Ah – Keptin–"

Jim ignores his protests as he fights through the layers of Chekov's uniform and underwear to get to his cock. It's a battle well worth fighting, but Jim doesn't waste any time gloating over his victory – he holds Chekov in place with both hands as he sucks his cock.

"Keptin – Keptin–"

The pollen must have gotten into Chekov's lungs, too, because it's only a matter of seconds before he stiffens and comes. His hands clutch at Jim's hair and then he's down on his knees, pressing sloppy open-mouthed kisses to Jim's lips. "Keptin–"

Jim stops, smoothing his fingers over Chekov's skin, gentling him when he flinches. "Wait," he says, the haze lifting a little. "Pavel – you weren't – that wasn't your first time, was it?"

"Keptin, if you are trying to make me say that vord again–"

"No. No." Looking at him, Jim somehow knows it's true. He pulls Chekov in for another kiss, making this one last longer. "I just – thought it would be nice to have another first time with you. On the ship, maybe in a bed?"

It takes a minute for Chekov to understand him, but then he's nodding frantically and pulling Jim to his feet, dragging him back to the ship. "We kin do zat!"

The mission on Vavra is forgotten – Jim has a more important mission in his quarters.