A/N: So, hi! I've finally taken the plunge and started writing some ST fic :) This is a drabble I wrote for one of my lovely friends Emma, who requested some Bones/Chekov fluff. Yeah, it's short, but hopefully things will get better the more ST fic I write :) Seeing as they are one of my favourite ST pairings, right up there alongside Kirk/Spock, I couldn't really resist. Seeing as this is my first time ever writing this pairing, or even in this fandom, I'll appreciate absolutely any and all comments about how this is and whether I've made the right decision indulging in my slight ST obsession :)

Typical disclaimer, don't own anybody, yadda yadda. Hope you enjoy :)


The pandemonium in Sick Bay was starting to quieten down now that the tests and checks had been done on the away team. Things had gotten a little rougher down on the surface than what was anticipated, but had been barely more than a playground scuffle compared to some of the diplomatic situations that the captain had found himself in before.

The adrenaline that had been buzzing through Chekov during the fight was gradually starting to fade, making him feel slightly cold and somewhat drained, but he figured that all he would need would be a long, hot shower, some good company and not so good food in the mess, and then to sleep until Alpha shift started and he was back behind the controls where he belonged.

He didn't really want to admit it, but he preferred it there to being in the line of danger; other than the captain, maybe Mr Spock in that weird Vulcan way too, felt he was too young to be out there, that it wasn't safe for him. At least on the bridge, everyone treated him equally, as the wonder kid Russian extraordinaire he'd become.

As he turned to walk out, a soft call stopped him. "Hey, where you going Chekov, I'm not finished with you yet."

That gruff tone never failed to make a shiver run down Chekov's spine, especially the way it said his name so alluringly. Turning back, he nervously strolled back over to where Bones was propped up against one of the bio-beds, watching him intently. As Bones ran the tricorder over Chekov, occasionally checking the readings, Chekov could see the hard lines around Bones' eyes soften slightly.

Bones inclined his head towards his office, and Chekov followed, trying to seek out the warm presence that never failed to make him feel secure. As he crossed the threshold, Bones called out "computer, engage lock."

The second the door slid into place, Chekov suddenly felt arms wrapped around his waist, hands rubbing soothing circles against his abdomen as they slid beneath his ruffled uniform, and he couldn't help but lean back into the affection as he let out a sigh, feeling the nervous energy drain out of him. Bones pressed his lips to a bruise against his neck, the softness at odds with his rough, bristly appearance.

"I'm glad at least you have some sense to come back without something broken, or some fucking voodoo going on in your head – unlike that stupid captain of ours."

It sounded flippant, but Chekov could hear the affection, the hint of worry and the amusement in Bones' voice as he was turned in his grip to be enveloped in an embrace Bones would deny he was capable of to anybody else. But he wasn't anybody else, not to Bones, and Chekov knew that as Bones pressed his lips to Chekov's, pulling back with a smirk.

"Come on Pav, I think you could use a shower." Chekov only grinned back.