Title: The Unidentified Admirer

Author: The Inamorata

Originally posted in the st_xi_kink community on LiveJournal

I did not write the prompt.

Prompt: The leader of an empathetic race, upon meeting with Kirk and his team, reveals that among those with him, there is one person strongly attracted to him — but he can't (or won't, for the sake of their privacy) tell who it is.

Kirk doesn't know how to take this information, since he couldn't see any of them being interested in him. So how does Kirk react once they're back on the Enterprise?

So it was bothering him. Of course, he said he wouldn't let it bother him, but it was most obviously doing so. The Ambassador had said one of the landing party had strong feelings for him, but wouldn't tell. But who was it?

To the planet he had brought down with him a rather large party; this culture was all about extravagance so he decided to go all out. Spock, Bones, Chekov, Sulu, and two female crewmembers of the security team had all accompanied him. Logically, it would be one of the girls, but after that unfortunate accident where both of them fell to their deaths in an active volcano, they were quickly ruled out.

Back on the Enterprise, their mission complete, the Captain was still rather disgruntled. He was fidgety, tapping his fingers against the arm of his chair, crossing and uncrossing his legs, sighing and looking to the ceiling. No one mentioned what the Ambassador had said.

"Captain Kirk: Please report to Sick Bay." Kirk's heart skipped a beat at Bones' voice. Bones? Really? It made sense; a messy divorce would lead to a desire for affection and trust.

Everyone's eyes turned to Kirk, and with a nervous smile he jumped up and ran to the turbolift. They were all thinking the same thing he was; but was it true?

Kirk took a deep breath before entering Sick Bay, unsure of what to prepare for, or what his own feelings were. What if Bones loved him? Would he reject him, or…?

The doors slid open and he took a step inside.

"Jim, here," Bones said, and without any other sort of greeting, he promptly injected Kirk with a hypo.

"Agh, what is that?" Kirk exclaimed, agitated.

"A little something to keep you focused on your job, that's what!" he replied irritably. "Spock said he was worried you weren't performing efficiently so--"

"Wait, wait, wait," Kirk interjected. "Spock? Worried?"

Bones rolled his eyes. "Those weren't his exact words, but never mind! Just do your job as captain and stop letting silly love rumors worry you. Now if you don't mind, I have a patient with stomach bug, and it's not going to pretty…"

Kirk turned and headed out of Sick Bay. Bones was still a possibility, but a definite long shot. That narrowed it down to Spock, Chekov, and Sulu. But Spock? Worried? Now, that was something…

Upon returning to the Bridge Kirk continued business as usual. Other than stealing nervous glances at Spock occasionally, the Doctor's medicine had, for the most part, worked. And even though Bones had said Spock didn't specifically say he was worried, wasn't it odd he would go out of his way to make sure Kirk was focused?

A tap on the shoulder broke him out of his thoughts, and he realized he had been staring at Spock for a good five minutes.

"Can I talk to you… Captain?"

Uhura pulled him aside into the turbolift, but didn't push any buttons so it stayed stationary.

"This is strange, you actually wanting to talk to me." Kirk asked; it couldn't have been Uhura, because she wasn't even with the landing party.

"It's not Spock," she said with some irritability. "Don't even kid yourself."

"Scared of a little competition?" Kirk asked with a smirk.

"You try anything on him and I'll make you regret it."

"But that would be against protocol, Lieutenant," he said, emphasizing the syllables of her title.

"Because protocol means so much to you," she replied.

Kirk lifted a finger and opened his mouth to say something witty, but was cut off by the opening of the turbolift door, revealing a rather surprised Chekov.

"Am interrupting?" he asked apologetically, his cheeks pink with embarrassment.

"No, Chekov, we were just… talking," Uhura said, patting Chekov on the shoulder and leaving the turbolift without a backwards glance. Chekov looked from Kirk to Uhura, unsure of what had happened, and stepped into the turbolift, the doors closing behind him.

"Am sorry, Captain," Chekov apologized. "I didn't mean to interrupt."

"No worries," he replied, both hands rubbing his temples. The medicine was wearing thin, as was his patience with this whole ordeal. It wasn't Bones, it wasn't Spock, so it had to be either--

"Is me, Captain." He stood next to Kirk, dark gray looking pointedly at the floor, a soft pink staining his cheeks.

Kirk's arms stopped in midair, having already been halfway down to his sides. His eyes were glued on Chekov, his heart beating quickly at the sudden and unexpected confession. Chekov? The innocent seventeen year old boy genius who slept with a stuffed bunny every night? The very same?

"I'm bothering you, Captain," he said, before Kirk could respond. He moved to leave the turbolift. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to distract from your work."

"Wait." Kirk grabbed his arm, stopping him before the turbolift doors opened. It was in the prolonged moment that he realized he didn't know why he stopped him. After all, the mystery was solved, and they could all go back to work like nothing had happened. But for some reason, Kirk found his heart beating quicker and his face turning red, though that could have been more of anxiety and uncertainty than anything else. But he had stopped Chekov; what would he say now?

Chekov turned around slowly to face him, silently waiting for whatever the Captain had to say. Kirk stammered for a moment, looking at the floor, the walls, the ceiling; anywhere but at Chekov.

"I'm not… well, I'm not bothered…" he began, still searching for the right words. "But it's, uh… well I think it's really… um, cute, actually."

There. He said it. He told Chekov he was cute. No one, he was sure, would disagree, because there was nothing that wasn't cute about; his gentle curls, his large innocent eyes, his youthful skin--everything was absolutely adorable.

"Bridge to Captain Kirk. Captain Kirk, you are needed on the Bridge."

Not sure whether or not he should be cursing the intercom or thanking it, Kirk returned to the Bridge with a huge weight off of his shoulders, and was finally able to concentrate on the task at hand.

------That Night------

How it had gotten to this, Kirk wasn't sure. Maybe it was the secret, knowing glances, or the innocent comments they had exchanged throughout the day. But either way, Chekov was in his quarters, pressed underneath him in a sweaty tangle of limbs and sheets, both of them reduced to nothing but boxers--on which Chekov's, he was not surprised to discover, were depictions of various cute rabbits.

His body was small and seemed so breakable beneath him that he was scared of things going further. For now Chekov's arms were wrapped around him, their mouths glued together, legs and groins bumping and sliding and grinding against each other's. Strangely enough, they were trying to carry out a conversation at the same time.

"And then that one time… when you were eating ice cream… in the rec room and you… dropped it and looked… like you were going to cry but… Nurse Chapel brought you some… more and… your eyes lit up like… a puppy," Kirk managed to explain between kisses. "Totally adorable."

"When else was I… cute, Captain?"

Kirk paused, out of breath. He seemed to hover above him, his forehead pressed against his, their warm breaths touching each other's faces. Chekov's curls were matted down with sweat, his eyes large and wanting.

"Well right now," Kirk replied, smirking. "You're pretty fucking adorable."