Disclaimer: I don't own any of this! Not a thing.
Author's Note: Warnings for psychological and physical torture, as well as homosexuality; it's gently described though.
Captain James T. Kirk woke when his head lolled to the left and the chain around his neck clanged and jangled loud enough to wake him. It took him a second to realize that he was indeed hanging from the wall and also naked. Chains bound his wrists and ankles to said wall and the chain connected to the studded collar around his neck linked to some pipes in the ceiling.
It took him another second to realize that this was a very bad situation, that he had no idea how he had gotten here, and he was a little dizzy, perhaps even hungover.
"Ah. You are avake," a voice proclaimed. A very familiar voice, one that belonged to that shadowy figure in front of him. The figure took a step into the light.
"Chekov," Kirk whispered, his voice rusty and raw.
Chekov grinned, but it wasn't a smile Kirk was used to - it was...well, wicked was the only word he had for it. His head was still buzzing and he couldn't think. All he could think was that this Ckekov in front of him was smirking with an eyebrow cocked a dark look in those slanted wide eyes.
"I hope my accomodations are to your likeeng, Keptin," Chekov was saying, "I vould hate for you to be...uncomfortable."
And then Chekov was running his hand up Kirk's thigh and down it and up it again, slowly, fingers spidering along like water. His tongue slipped out from between soft pink lips and licked them slowly, sensually.
Kirk was looking down on Chekov - his crotch was just an inch or so higher than Chekov's head - and couldn't put it together. He'd seen that look on other people, usually his conquests. Not Chekov.
"Why?" was all he could manage.
Chekov looked up, cocking his head slightly to the right, resting it on the inside of Kirk's right leg. If it weren't for the cruel smirk on his face, Chekov might have looked very sweet.
But this was anything but sweet.
"You vere ze ulteemate challenge," Chekov explained mysteriously. "If I could capture ze sexiest man on ze ship, I could haff anyone I vanted."
He smiled that bright wide smile Kirk remembered him having but not with those eyes, that hungry look sitting in them like a caged tiger.
Then he backed up and away and pulled something out of his pants pocket.
A remote.
"Enjoy, Keptin. I vill be back vhen you vake up," he promised, smiling cruelly again with those angel eyes gone wrong.
Then he pressed the button and electricity arced its way along the chains and into his neck, wrists, ankles, everywhere, everywhere was pain and he screamed until he knew only darkness.
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When he woke up this time, Kirk found he could think a little better this time. He could formulate thoughts that were more than just disconnected words and confused emotions and tangled images of Pavel Chekov: Chekov smiling, showing his teeth, snarling; Chekov fingering Kirk's naked leg, slipping fingers up and down it, making him flinch with pleasure he didn't want; Chekov with that beautiful soft hair and sweet eyes not caring that he was screaming, hurting, blacking out.
What was this Chekov in front of him now, half-hidden in the shadows of this room? And what was this room? There was a window near the top strangled with bars and the night sky showed the moon and stars.
That...that had to mean they weren't in space anymore. They had to be on Earth somewhere.
"Good morneeng, Keptin. I hope you slept vell," Chekov greeted. He was grinning in his black jumpsuit and black leather shoes - clearly not Starfleet regulation.
"What the hell d'you want, kid?" Kirk spat out.
Chekov frowned - or at least the part of his face that Kirk could see did.
"Zhat vas not wery nice zhing to say," Chekov scolded. His right arm raised up and his left index finger slammed into a button on a remote.
Electricity zoomed up Kirk's back and although he was determined not to scream, clamped his jaw shut, it didn't do him any good to hold it back. He gave up after just a few seconds and let the scream go.
He only got to scream for a few seconds though because Chekov let up on the button for him.
"I hope you vill mind your manners now, Keptin," he said sweetly, smiling again with that smile that couldn't possibly be Chekov's, not now, not ever.
Something was wrong.
"Fat chance," Kirk spat.
Damn his stubborn streak. He wanted more information, but that...wasn't going to happen now. He braced himself for the worst.
"I just knew you vere going to say zhat," Chekov replied, smiling again.
And then came the electricity, a higher dosage, for longer and longer and then the inky blackness.
-----------------
He was awake again and he didn't really want to be. What was the point of this, waking up only to see Chekov and exchange a few words and then get fried? He was determined to forget the looks Chekov kept giving him, the fingers caressing his leg...
Nobody was coming to save him, or at least they hadn't so far, so what was he waiting for? He wasn't going to get food or water or out of these chains that were chafing and hurting. He couldn't even feel his legs any longer.
"Velcome back, Keptin. I zhought I vould - aaaaaargh!" Chekov screamed and Kirk looked up to see...
...two Chekovs? The one he was used to, the one with the wicked grin, he was on the floor and writhing in pain, red electricity spiraling around him, making him shiver and sputter and jerk.
The other Chekov was standing over the electrified one, holding down the trigger on some bright blue device with determination, lips pursed and eyes focused and very nearly teary.
"You vill not harm him any longer!" Kirk heard and the voice was the second Chekov's, the one not getting fried, sweet tones pierced with protectiveness and then, only then did Kirk feel hopeful. And only then did Kirk hear some angry Russian that he was sure was filled with four-letter words.
"Chekov," Kirk managed to croak out and then Chekov - his Chekov, the one with the weird gun in his hand - looked up and let up on the trigger and the body on the floor moaned.
"Sheet," his Chekov said when he saw the chains and Kirk almost smiled at that but it hurt too much.
His Chekov ran over and hit a lever Kirk couldn't see but heard and the chains unraveled quickly, dropping him down the wall and into his Chekov's waiting arms.
Kirk looked up into his Chekov's crying face and made himself smile, the pain be damned.
"My hero," he joked and his Chekov smiled back, his eyes still crying and sad but determined.
"Let us get you back," his Chekov said, carrying him wedding-style across the room, stepping on the fingers of the smoking Chekov on the floor along the way. When they got to the door, it swung open of its own accord and Kirk heard voices and saw a light but sleep felt like such a good idea. So he let his head fall into the crook of his Chekov's arm and slept.
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He woke up and there was Chekov and instinctively Kirk flinched and scrambled to get away. Then his mind came back to him and he recognized that he wasn't in chains anymore and he was in the medical bay on the Enterprise and this Chekov wasn't going to hurt him.
"Hi," Chekov said from the small wooden chair. Kirk unlatched himself from the fetal position he'd scrambled into and stretched back out on the bed again.
"Hi," Kirk replied. He found he wasn't hooked to anything, no machines or wires. But his arms hurt and his legs and he couldn't move his neck very well.
"You vill be vondereeng vhat happened to you, sir," Chekov began. "Ees long story. Please...relax. Or try to."
Kirk nodded and swallowed and tried to lean back against the pillow. He felt itchy in this hospital gown. Bones probably picked the itchiest one just for him.
"Somebody eenfeeltrated ze computer and eemplanted a program eento your quarters. Vhen you vent to sleep a day ago, eet transformed your quarters eento a wirtual reality. Vell, a nightmare, really," Chekov admitted.
"And you...?" Kirk prompted.
"Ah. Me. Right," Chekov muttered. He blushed and looked at his shoes. "Ze program vas created by...ah, I zhink ze English vord is 'old flame.'"
Kirk raised an eyebrow and Chekov blushed even further.
"Ve vere best friends een academy. Both...prodeegies, I guess you say," Chekov said. "Ve dated a leetle. But vhen I got job on Enterprise...he got wery jealous. He heet me one night. I broke eet off."
Kirk bristled. It was an instinct - nobody hurt his crew, especially not little Chekov. The fact that it was a guy didn't matter - nobody touched his friends. Nobody.
"Anyvay, he vas ze one makeeng ze program. He snuck onto ze sheep vhen ve last docked. He took my appearance een ze program and proceeded to...vell...you know vhat he deed, I do not haff to tell you," Chekov muttered.
Kirk nodded. It was only physical torture, except for the come-ons, but even those weren't...that bad. It could have been worse - this fake Chekov could have actually done something to him, sexually. But he hadn't.
"Vhen ve found out you vere meesseng, ve ran scans and ve looked eweryvhere and zhen vhen ve found you, ve could not get eento your quarters because Jason - zhat vas hees name, Jason - he had set up an encoded secureety program to block us out. Lieutenant Uhura broke zhrough eet pretty queeckly, zhough. She vas amazeeng," Chekov admitted, smiling a little at the memory.
Kirk made a note to thank her. And hit on her more than usual so she wouldn't think he'd lost his touch.
"Zhen Commander Spock feegured out zhat one of us vould have to go eenside ze program. I wolunteered," Chekov said.
He was blushing again and Kirk wondered if it was just because he'd gotten to the part of the story where he did something and was embarrassed about showing off his skills or if it was something else entirely.
"Meesters Sulu and Scott made me ze weapon I used. Eet had to be downloaded eento ze program and eet took a long time. I..." Chekov trailed off, redirecting his stare - which had been straight at his shoes this whole time - to the wall.
He was close to crying again.
"I am sorry eet vas not faster. Zhat I vas not faster. Ve had to be sure ve vould get heem een one go. Ve only had one chance," Chekov explained but it was coming out in a tumbled rush and he looked like he was hyperventilating.
"It's okay, kid," Kirk assured him.
Chekov snapped his head to look at him so fast that Kirk nearly flinched.
"Please...please, Keptin. Do not call me zhat," he said firmly, holding something back out of his face.
Kirk nodded.
"Anyvay. Doctor McCoy says zhat you vere dehydrated but zhat vas eet. Ze zhings Jason deed to you een zhere vere all een your mind," Chekov finished. "Doctor McCoy said he vill come release you vhen you haff had more time to rest, vhich...I should be letteeng you do, sir."
Chekov got up off of the wooden chair and couldn't suppress a groan as his joints cracked and snapped. The noises seemed to spur Kirk into two flashes of thought.
"You've been sitting there since I got here, haven't you?" he asked.
Chekov turned around and nodded, blushing.
"Since they vould let me een, sir," he whispered.
"And what...happened to Jason?" Kirk asked.
Chekov's right foot traced a circle on the clean tile floor.
"I...vell, vhen you vere taken here, I vent back een and, um...vell..." Chekov trailed off before finally putting his right foot back firmly on the floor and looking straight up into Kirk's eyes.
"I beat heem up, sir," Chekov admitted.
"That's my navigator," Kirk crowed immediately. Chekov grinned a little and went on.
"Ze gun only stopped hees wirtual self. Once ve dispelled ze program, he had come to and he vas comeeng after you so I beat heem up. He ees een brig now," Chekov said, his eyes blazing. Then they seemed to waver for a bit. "I...suppose I shall be joineeng heem," he added.
"For what? Beating the shit out of some idiot who deserved it? Please," Kirk scoffed. "If I can get you a medal for being a really great friend and general badass-ery in the line of duty, I'm going to, Pavel."
Chekov grinned very widely now.
"Anyvay, I should really be goeeng. You need to rest. And zhat ees order!" Chekov said, waggling a finger.
Kirk raised a shaky arm and gave him a cocky little salute. Chekov giggled a little and smiled and saluted back, then walked out the door panel.
Author's Note: Please review - just a few words will brighten my day. Seriously. Please! :)