First published Trekkie piece. I'm actually quite proud of it, but I know I could use work.

Warning: Slash, harsh language, and crude slaughtering of the English language by a certain Russian.

Hope you enjoy and review!

It made sense to everyone but him.

He was a genius, so he should have gotten it, but it seemed to be an American thing that he hadn't quite gotten used to.

Or maybe he was just slow.

Chekov was sitting in his seat now, simply waiting for the captain to tell him to do otherwise, but it seemed that the captain wasn't going to say anything to him. The enterprise was just warping through space, it's destination unknown to the young Russian boy. There was probably a mission that he didn't know about.

Maybe he should have paid more attention to those around him. Listened into their conversations.

But wasn't that bad? Yeah, it was bad to eavesdrop into others' conversation.

Finally, Captain Kirk had given him some orders.

Everyone was so quiet and solemn today.

It was around the time that everyone needed to retire, but no one had turned in. Captain Kirk was still in his seat at the top and everyone else was solemnly sitting, doing nothing. Chekov was tired because he had a weary day, one that was boring and lifeless. It dragged on because no one would say a word. Maybe it was a day of grieving?

Chekov looked around and saw that no one was missing, so no one here had died, but maybe it was someone not on the bridge team? He tried to recall something that had happened in the past few days, but all he could pull up was all the jokes that people had told him, half of which he didn't understand and the other half that he would never remember.

Looking around again, Chekov made a note of each person's face. Well, the people that mattered,

He started with Sulu, the Asian man. Sulu seemed too be twitching a lot. It was as if he had the jitterbug. (Chekov had learned this word in his studies at Starfleet Academy, he just hadn't found the time to use it.) Sulu kept glancing between Spock and Captain Kirk.

Was there something wrong with them?

Chekov decided that he would watch more people before making such a conclusion.

Looking around, his eyes landed on Uhura next. She was at her station, legs crossed and fingers tapping at something. He wasn't quite sure why she was here, but he never questioned the Captain. Her facial expressions showed that she was angry, mad. Her eyes kept shifting over to Spock, then to Kirk. She seemed o get more angry when she looked at the captain, but her eyes softened at the sight of Spock.

So Captain Kirk did something to upset Spock again?

Chekov turned his attention to Spock and studied him for a few seconds. The Vulcan seemed pleasantly happy, a contrast form the rest of the room. It was a wonder that Chekov hadn't realized this earlier, but he was glad he did anyway. Spock seemed to be—dare he say it?— gloating over something. As if he had won.

So Spock had won some kind of argument? Then why was Uhura so mad?

Mentally taking a deep breath, Chekov looked behind him at his captain, James Kirk. There was a reason Chekov made the captain the last to observe; a very special reason. Under all of Chekov's Russian exterior and Starfleet trained mind, there was a small spark of something that always reacted when he looked at his captain.

A small spark of something he couldn't understand. Something he had never felt for anyone else before.

Captain Kirk was sprawled out on his chair, a pout on his face. No, it was more serious than a pout, it was more of a scowl. As if he had lost something.

Oh.

Chekov put the pieces of the puzzle together and finally came out with a conclusion. Spock and Captain Kirk had gotten into a fight, which had ended with a bet. Spock, obviously, had won the bet, which made the captain mad. The only things missing from the puzzle now was the actual bet and the penalty.

He put his elbow on the dashboard and rested his chin against the backside of his hand, simply staring out into space. Think. What could rile up the captain and his first commander so much that they would bet on it?

Was it something that had happened? How did everyone but him know about it?

Chekov felt his eyelids droop, admitting that he was tired. Yawning, he covered his mouth with his free hand, making him out to be picture sleepiness.

"Fine, I'll fucking do it!"

The voice startled Chekov from his pleasant spell of sleep. He turned his chair so that he was facing the captain, but barely caught a glimpse of him as he got up and walked towards Chekov.

Panic rushed over the Russian boy. Kirk grabbed Chekov's wrist and hauled the small boy forward. "Follow me," the captain growled under his breath. They were almost out the door before Spock stopped them with a command.

"No, do it here in front of everyone."

Even though Kirk's face was pointed down, Chekov could still see the deep blush that covered the captain's face.

"Keptin, what is going on?" Chekov asked in his thick Russian accent. He was worried about Kirk, who seemed embarrassed about something. What was the captain going to do?

"Chekov," Kirk muttered under his breath. "It's hard to say this, but I need to. Here. To you." Kirk looked up to meet Chekov's questioning gaze. "Chekov," but he didn't say anything more and just leaned forward to brush his lips against the Russian boy's.

But that was when Chekov woke up.

Looking around, he had noticed that he was still in the bridge, at his station. He seemed to have fallen asleep while sitting straight. Glancing at everyone, he noticed they were still mad. Uhura looked at him and sighed.

"Captain, I think it's time for us to turn in. We're too tired to go on, especially Chekov over here," Uhura said to Kirk.

"I am okay," Chekov said, but had to cover his mouth when a yawn escaped him.

"Sleep," Uhura said in a warning tone. Chekov smiled. Uhura reminded him of his own mother when she would tell him to sleep.

"Fine," Kirk said as he stood up. "We'll stay in warp, considering we still have a few days till we get to our destination. We'll have a night shifter come up and keep watch. Everyone else, turn in." Kirk was the first to leave the bridge Spock following soon after. Everyone seemed to be relieved when they left.

"Finally," Sulu said as he relaxed in his chair. "I thought he would never let us off."

Chekov too the moment to think about the situation before taking advantage of it. "Why is ev'ryone so..." Chekov trailed off as he waved his hands around. There was no way to explain how everyone was.

"Because Captain Kirk and Spock got into a row, I would assume," came a voice. Chekov looked up and smiled when he saw Scotty. "'Allo there, Chek."

"Hello, Scotty," Chekov replied.

"I have the footage of there fight, if anyone would like to see it." All the heads perked up and turned towards the Scottish man. "I'm guessin' that's a yes?" he asked. He walked over to one of the stations in the front and keyed in a few things until a video popped up.

On screen, Spock and Kirk were standing in the major medical ward, no one around to see.

Off screen, McCoy muttered something about not remembering the event.

"You need to tell him," Spock said. He spoke clearly so that Kirk, who was a bit ruffled, could hear.

"I don't need to tell him shit," Kirk spat back out. Spock merely lifted an eyebrow in amusement.

"I said you needed to tell him, don't tell him shit, how bad do you think that'll make him feel? Just confess to him already."

Confess? Did Captain Kirk do something wrong? Bad?

"I'll keep to myself all I want," Kirk growled out as he started to move away from Spock and out the door. But Spock stopped him before he could go anywhere by grabbing a fist full of the yellow sweater.

"You have to tell him," the Vulcan said, still amused.

"Make me!"

A new light dawned in Spock's eyes as he thought about it. "I will, but first, let's have a bet." He released the captain and let him stagger back a few steps. Kirk straightened his outfit out before looking up with interest. His eyes were shining too, just in curiosity.

"I'm listening," he said.

Spock smiled and crossed his arms. "We'll find out if he's gay, first. I don't know how, and I don't know from where, but we will find out. If he's gay, you have to confess to him, but if he's not, then you're free to go and not talk to him at all."

"No," Kirk said as he shook his head. "There has to be dome kind of punishment in it for you for meddling so much." he stroked his chin in deep thought before he clapped his hands together in delight. "I've got it! If he's not gay, then you have to be my slave for the rest of the mission. Understand?"

Spock thought about this for a while, deeply thinking. Finally, he nodded. "A Plausible defeat," he replied. "Let's be on out merry way to find out."

The video ended and Chekov was still confused. Why would the captain want to know whether someone was gay or not? Looking around, he checked out the rest of the crew members. Sulu was nodding his head in understanding and Scotty was just eying the screen, obviously still shocked. McCoy was muttering nothings about how he never remembered that and about how he had never thought Spock would use the word "merry."

But Uhura was something else. She was ecstatic. It seemed that she new exactly what was going on. Chekov decided to voice his questions.

"Why did the keptin want to know if someone was gay?" Uhura was the first to jump to answer. Well, she was the only one who jumped to answer, but she excited non the less.

"Because he likes someone aboard the Enterprise," she explained, a little giddy. "Someone that is male." She kept giving Chekov odd looks that he couldn't understand. But someone else had understood for him.

"I get it," McCoy said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I get it!" Everyone on the bridge turned to give the doctor odd looks, but was greeted with a sight that made everyone cringer. "I understand who they're talking about! I know who they think is gay! I know who is gay!" The crew members started to talk, whispering to each other.

"You know?" Sulu asked. "Who is it?"

"But that's why it's so funny!" McCoy said as he left the room. Several people filed out, heading towards their respective quarters.

Chekov slowly picked up his feet and walked himself out of the door, catching one last glimpse of the shot of Captain Kirk on screen. He had to admit, he still looked nice.

"Chekov! Wait, Chekov!" Chekov turned to see Uhura rushing towards him. He was left confused as to why she called for him.

"Yes?" he asked. He didn't realize it, but the way he answered made him look adorably cute. Uhura smiled to herself before straightening her face.

"Well, we were on the subject earlier, but it didn't seem right to ask then when it came up. I wanted to ask about your preference."

Chekov tilted his head to the side, confused about what she was asking. "I don't understand," he replied, accent still thick. "My preference to what?"

"Well," Uhura said, eyes drifting off and away from the Russian boy. "Well, I'm talking about love. What's your preference on love?" She stared at him, eyes curious but still cold.

"Well, to love doesn't need a prev'rens, does it?" he asked, still confused. Uhura slightly put him off. Her presence here made him nervous. It made him want to recite some sort of math problem, but instead she wanted him to answer such a vague question.

"Romantically, do you like guys or girls?" she asked, finally getting the question out.

"Ah," Chekov said, finally understanding. "Love knows no boundaries. I ha'b heard 'tis from somewhere, but if I recall, it means I ha'b no care if who I love is male or female." He spoke these words slowly and carefully so that he did not make a mistake and say something that he would regret.

Uhura looked at him skeptically before breaking out into a smile. "This is a pleasant turn of events," she said. Her smile made Chekov shudder and rethink his decision to tell her that, but thinking now, it was too late. "Tell me, do you have your eyes set one someone?"

Set on someone meant that he was pursuing them, right? Considering that he wasn't going to pursue Captain Kirk anytime in the near future, he shook his head. "No," he said with all honesty.

The smile on Uhura's face fell into a frown. Did he say something wrong? Was she afraid that he would take Spock away from her? But Spock was so... Well, what was Spock? What made him so different from Kirk? Was it that Spock was Vulcan and not human? But Chekov didn't care about that. He only cared for Kirk in general. Kirk's personality, his way of acting, his way of reacting, and especially his way of handling a situation.

And plus Kirk had a body that was to boast of.

Chekov felt himself blush before he could do anything of it. He knew that when he blushed, both his cheeks and neck turned beet red, and it wouldn't go away for several minutes.

"Oh, I think you're lying," Uhura said, smirk back in place. "Come on, tell me, who is it?" Chekov looked down and muttered something inaudible to Uhura. "What was that?"

"I said 'it could be Captain Krik'," he muttered, a little louder so that Uhura could hear. His eyes were trained on the ground, missing the evident smirk on the woman's face.

"I think we can fix that," she said, a touch of evil in her voice.

His cheeks were even more red now. He wasn't quite sure how he had got into this situation, but he knew that it was only going to turn out bad in the end.

Well, he thought so. He wasn't sure how it was going to end, or even if it would end.

At the moment, he was wearing nothing but his Starfleet class underwear. He was sprawled out on the bed in what Uhura called a "sexual" pose. He wasn't too sure what the word "sexual" meant, but from how he was feeling, he could get a clear idea. His hands were bound together by a thin red ribbon that did nothing to bind him. Chekov wasn't really sure why it was there, but just went with the plan.

Uhura's plan. It was the reason he was here on the bed, nearly naked of any sort of clothing.

But the worst part was that it wasn't his own bed, but the captain's.

Kirk's bed.

Chekov's heart jumped when he heard the automatic doors slid open and someone walked.

"Fucking emergencies my ass," someone growled. Chekov's heart sped up as he realized that it was Kirk's voice. Well, he would be surprised if it was anyone else's. "Chekov?" Chekov looked up and could practically feel his cheeks deepening in their color, if it was possible. "What are you doing—" But he stopped when he really saw Chekov.

Kirk's eyes were wide, taking in the image that was given to him. There was the Russian beauty, for only him to see. He adorned nothing but a simple pair of standard issue underwear and a small ribbon. Tied to the ribbon was a small piece of paper, most likely an explanation as to why the object of his—not too appropriate—dreams was sitting in his bed, just like he wanted.

He slowly took a step forward, not wanting to scare the already nervous boy.

"Chekov, why are you here?" he asked. Chekov bowed his head even lower, shading his face.

"Isn't it ob'bious?" he asked, his accent only making him cuter.

Jim took a deep breath and laced his fingers together. Tilting his head back, he closed his eyes. "Please let this be real," he muttered. "Please."

Opening his eyes, he looked at Chekov again. The boy was just so perfect. Jim reached out and let his fingers brush across Chekov's red cheek. It was the most perfect moment he could ever wish for.

Chekov looked up in astonishment when he felt Kirk's finger's touch his cheek. Thinking for a few seconds, he decided that they were going to get no where if that was all the captain was going to do. Taking a deep breath, he took Kirk's outstretched hand and pulled the man off balance so that he fell on the bed on top of the Russian.

"Chekov," Kirk said in a warning voice, but was cut off when the other boy pushed a soft pair of lips against his. He was lost in a moment of pure, innocent bliss of the kiss. He took it a step further by pushing his tongue against the lips. Soon, the two were in a mock war of lips and tongue.

Kirk heard a moan from the other boy when he brushed his hand against the other's neck. 'Is his neck sensitive?' He didn't waste anymore thought on it but moved his lips down to the pale neck. He kissed a few spots, choosing the spot of his choice. Finally finding it, he bit softly, drinking in the moan that came out.

"Beautiful," Jim muttered against the neck. He felt the boy shutter under the pleasure. Was he going too fast? But he was here, offering himself! Thinking no further of that, he pushed the small boy back so that the two fell onto the bed. This was much more comfortable than the original position.

Chekov moved his hands, but was constricted. Remembering, Jim looked down at the boy's wrists. Around his wrists was a red ribbon. He had nearly forgot about that.

Lifting up a little, he allowed Chekov to bring the ribbon up to his face so he could take it off. After several seconds of struggling, he finally managed to get the ribbon off. Tossing the ribbon to the side, he fingered the note.

To Captain Kirk

I wish to keep Spock free of any sort of slave duties that does not involve myself.

Uhura

When I reread this, I realized that I was leaving it at such an odd place. I might wirte more, but if I'm not motivated enough, then this is as far as I'm going.