DISCLAIMER :: Yeah, no.

WARNINGS :: SLASH. THREESOME. Very light smut. A pinch of angst. A shit load of randomness. :D (Not beta-ed.)

A/N :: Okay, I actually really like this piece. A LOT. It makes me very happy, especially because it was smut without, y'know, actually being porn, if that makes sense. Eh, who knows. It's 1:30 in the morning. I'll look over it again later on, after I've gotten some sleep and the words aren't blurring on the screen, but in the mean time, if you see any glaring errors don't hesitate to let me know. I'm only human. ;)

Inspired by :: The st_xi_kink meme on livejournal. The prompt? "Five times Bones talked Kirk out of banging their resident Russian jailbait, and one time he told his conscience to fuck off (and got to watch)." I know the end is a little different than the prompt, but Bones insisted on being a part and not just watching, and who am I to not gives Bones what he wants? ((shrugs))

EDIT (08/03/09) :: Fixed a few minor errors, mostly with funky wording and present-tense past-tense troubles. (:

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1. The first time Bones finds out that the captain has a more than strictly professional interest in their resident Russian jailbait, it's in the medical bay, and Jim says it so casually Bones doesn't even register it for a few seconds.

"Hey Bones, do you think Chekov is good looking?"

He almost drops the hypospray he's holding, but he manages to hang onto it.

Barely.

"Dammit Jim! The kid's only 17."

Those too blue eyes move upwards to stare at the doctor pointedly.

"Not for long."

Bones just growls and stabs the hypospray harder than strictly necessary into Jim's neck.


2. The second time, it's a bit more obvious, but Bones can't exactly blame his friend for reacting the way he does.

Somehow, the Russian had managed to get a hold of a crate of fresh strawberries, and he's eating them in such an obscene manner it almost hurts.

It's a deliberate and torturous process as he grabs his first one and just stares at it for a few moments, licking his lips and then bringing the fruit up to them and taking a slow bite.

His eyes roll back in his head as his long eyelashes flutter against his cheeks, and it takes all of Bones' willpower (and then some) to place a heavy hand on Jim's shoulder, who he can feel fidgeting uncomfortably next to him.

'Not here,' the doctor mouths when Jim turns to look at him, and he gets a stiff nod in response.

After all, jumping the kid in the middle of the mess hall probably wouldn't make a good impression, regardless of how pornstar-ish he's eating his food.


3. The third time, it's in another public place that the kid's sexy eating habits make an appearance, and although it hurt at the time, Bones is glad he was there to stop Jim, because his friend's self control might be phenomenal, but not when Chekov is eating a lollipop like he's giving a blowjob.

"Jim!" he hisses next to the captain's ear, catching onto the way Jim is staring at the Russian and suddenly thankful for all of the mindless distractions he allows on his bridge when there's not important work to be done. "Don't."

"Why Bones?" And what almost sounds like desperation is coloring his voice, which makes Bones wince because really, when is Jim Kirk ever desperate for anything?

"He's probably straight."

"Bones! Look at the way he's eating that lollipop! Do you know anyone who bangs chicks that eats a lollipop like that?"

Bones doesn't dignify that with a verbal response, just gives him a look, and he can almost feel the moment that Jim gives in. His shoulders slump and he lets out his breath in a large sigh.

"Okay Bones. Okay."

The doctor merely nods and makes his way off the bridge.


4. Bones, for all of his medical expertise and ability to accept wacky situations, is definitely not expecting the scene that greets him when he walks in the medical bay the next morning.

There, standing and chatting with Nurse Chapel in the middle of the brightly lit room, is their resident Russian jailbait.

Dressed like a girl.

Flouncy mini-dress, tall boots, professionally done makeup.

The whole shebang.

Needless to say, it catches Bones by surprise, and he doesn't even realize that Jim is there until he hears a hoarse, "Holy shit," from behind him.

He turns quickly and sees the captain with a look of such shock and arousal on his face it takes Bones a second to unfreeze himself and grab Jim tightly by the arm, dragging him behind a privacy curtain to have the conversation he knows is coming.

"Bones. I don't think he's straight."

The doctor nods slowly, trying to forget about the Russian that's standing just on the other side of the curtain, lest his pants get any tighter, although it's just a bit difficult when he can hear the thick accent and melodious laughter trickling into his mind.

"Bones."

The way his name falls from Jim's lips makes him sneak a glance over, and seeing him in a similar state makes the older man feel a little better.

Only a little though.

"I- Jim- We can't. He's only seventeen."

Bones knows it's a weak excuse the second it falls from his lips. The boy's 18th birthday is in a week, and then Bones doesn't know what he's going to tell Jim to keep him from pursuing the Russian.

And if he's honest with himself, deep down in the dark reaches of his brain, he's beginning to ask himself why he's stopping Jim in the first place.


5. The thing that pushes him over the edge is something so small, so simple and insignificant he has to laugh at himself for it later.

Really. Glasses?

It's the day before Chekov's 18th birthday, and the teenager had been having trouble working for the past few days. An explosion on a planet side exploration a few weeks earlier had apparently damaged the boy's corneas, and he hadn't noticed until he had started losing vision on the bridge, at which point Jim had sent him down to sickbay with firm orders not to come back until he was fixed, because Jim "needed his navigator in tip top shape".

Unfortunately, he was highly allergic to the medication that would heal him, so Bones had instead given him a pair of glasses to wear that were kept around just for that purpose.

Chekov had slipped them onto his face, and after adjusting them so they fit properly (they were a bit too big at first), he looked up at the doctor and merely asked, "Okay?"

Bones nearly died.

They fit so perfectly on the teen's face, accentuating the high cheekbones and bright blue eyes that were magnified by the lenses.

"Y-Yeah. Now get out of my sickbay and go back to bothering the captain."

And Bones knows exactly how much it's going to bother the Captain, and he knows the conversation they're going to be having later is not going to be pretty.

-------

"Bones, he's turning 18 tomorrow, I know you have a problem with his age but really! Tomorrow, Bones! Tomorrow! What harm will it do to do it today?"

"Dammit Jim! I know he's turning 18 tomorrow! That's the point! Tomorrow! Can't you keep it in your pants until then?!"

"What if I can't?!"

They haven't been friends for so long without learning a few things about each other that no one else knows, and one of these things is that Jim is going to be in a seriously shit mood if he doesn't get laid.

So because it's nothing new, they have sex that night, and it's hard and rough and there's biting and scratching and pounding and they're both going to have bruises and marks tomorrow, but neither of them care because the harder it is, the less they focus on the missing person that they can both feel is supposed to be there.


+1. The knock on the door surprises them, and they look up from the PADDs laid out on the table while Jim calls a cautious, "Come in," to the person outside.

There's nothing but silence for a few moments, and Bones is tempted to call out his own greeting when the door finally swishes open softly, and to say they're surprised is an understatement.

Curly brown hair bobs into view, and the blue eyes that follow have a determined glint to them that is rarely seen but undeniably sexy.

A curt nod at the both the captain and the doctor, followed by an equally curt, "Jim," and "Leonard," at their respective owners.

Time seems to stop, because when has Pavel ever referred to either of them by their given names, and Jim and Bones share a look before they glance back at the Russian, who merely raises a perfect eyebrow at them, and then they're lost.

The next few minutes are a whirlwind of sensation, panting and gasping and touching and spinning and they're falling down, down, and the only coherent thought that runs through Bones' head is that he feels a bit like Alice in Wonderland, but soon it doesn't matter because it's everything he thought it would be and more, and he can feel Jim arching upwards next to him, coming with a strangled cry that seems to set off something in Bones' head, because then he's coming with stars dancing behind his eyelids and then it's done and the only sounds in the room are ragged breaths and the whispers of skin on fabric as they shift to get comfortable in the mess they just made.

Until Pavel starts to laugh. He's laughing so hard he sounds like he's choking, but there are tears streaming down his flushed face and the biggest shit eating grin on his face Bones has ever seen. He vaguely hears Jim chuckling heartily into his shoulder where his head is resting, and then he has to smile too because really? This whole damn mess is so completely and utterly ridiculous, and as he buries his face into the sweat soaked head of curls resting on his chest and wraps an arm around the other warm body curled into his side, he decides he really should let Jim get him into more completely and utterly ridiculous messes more often.

But not too often, of course.

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The end! :D Thanks for reading, drop me a line or two if you get the chance, but if not, that's cool too. (: Hope you liked it.

Oh, yeah, also, I think Chekov planned this whole thing too. I mean, cross dressing and lollipops and strawberries and the first name calling? Really? Suspiiiciouuusss... ((shiftyeyes)) But, yeah, I didn't write it that way. It just kinda, came out that way. jsyk.

(More story naming after songs I'm listening to! Yay. C: This one is "We Float" by PJ Harvey. Very pretty song. The piano makes me happy.)

(Also (again)! Bonus points to anyone who knows what the strawberry reference is from. ;))