Star Trek One Shots

Chekov - Isolation (smut)

(Content warning - this chapter contains sexual content)

Let me tell you, dear Pavel, that shore leave is perhaps the best thing, maybe ever.

The four days of sunshine, real weather and no work are paradise. Coming back to the ship is a challenge and a half. But you, in all your brilliance, are terrible at washing your hands before you eat. 

You're feeling a little off on the last day of shore leave. It really isn't in your nature to decline food. I have had a feeling something was up, and when you threw up, I knew I was right.

"I've seen you drink nearly a whole bottle of vodka in one night and keep it down. This isn't a good sign." 

"Can you page McCoy?" you groan, your arm resting on the toilet seat and your head resting on your arm. 

McCoy comes into our room in a biosuit and I study the look you give me. McCoy takes saliva sample and gives you a hypo. Five minutes later we're both under strict rules to isolate ourselves until further notice. McCoy programs a few things into the replicator for us and tells us to page again if necessary. 

And here we are, sitting on our bed, coming to the conclusion that whatever you have, you've probably already given it to me.     

"Now what?" you ask. 

I smile. 

We realise that being in isolation is going to consist of two main things. 

1) More free time on our hands than we know what to do with

2) A whole lot of sex

We're told we can't leave our room for at least the next three days and that hardly seems like a bad thing. Your stomach is a little more settled after the hypo McCoy gave you and you're on top of me not long after I point out what we're going to do with all our time. We've been known to kill a couple of hours in the sheets before but you're on alpha shift and a few hours of free time together is rather hard to come by. You grin at me and we move to the bedroom, thinking of how much we love isolation. 

Your shirt is off before we're even on the bed and you take great pleasure in undressing me. You're kissing my neck and shoulders as soon as my shirt is off and you wink at me. You wrap your arms around my waist and hug me from behind. I'm trying not to giggle as your breath tickles my ear and you tell me how glad you are we're stuck together. 

You get me on my back and start kissing everywhere you can. It's playful, it's fun. We're both laughing. I'm falling more in love with you. I take the chance to undo your belt and you're making hungry eyes at me as I unzip your jeans. You get up to take them off properly and I remove my own, throwing them at you. 

"You look ridiculously good in just underwear. You know that, yes?" 

You shake off my compliment by rolling your eyes at me and taking my bra straps off my shoulders. 

"You look ridiculously good in just nothing. You know that, da?" 

I giggle at you and we get down to just our underwear. You're on top of me and we start making out. Your tongue grazes my lips and then dances with mine. I can't help but hate how you're good at basically everything, including but not limited to kissing and making me feel amazing under your touch. You stop kissing me so you can sit up and I admire the view, your curls falling into your eyes and your eyebrows knitted together in concentration. 

"I love being isolated with you." 

You grin again and ask if you can remove my undies. I laugh. "Only if I can remove yours."