McCoy understood people. He had felt what he thought was the deepest of love and the deepest of hate and because of that, it was easy to see others for what they truly were whether they tried to hide it or not. However, there was one person he just couldn't get his head around; Pavel Chekov. Chekov was an absolutely brilliant kid, especially for being only seventeen, and was one of the few people that could converse with Spock about science or math and understand every word of it. He interacted with others very well and could hold his temper too when irritated or teased.

Which, was exactly the reason why McCoy couldn't understand him. A kid that age shouldn't be so strong willed especially because of his past. Chekov bothered him so much that he had actually taken an opportunity to look up the kid's history. Apparently he had been sent off to some university at an extremely young age and hadn't seen his parents since. It also seemed that he had been bullied a lot from what McCoy could tell from the kid's medical record.

And, what made matters worse, was that McCoy hardly even saw Chekov and yet the kid occupied most of his mind every day. He even talked to Kirk not only just to see what he thought of the kid but also so he could see if the kid was doing well. Jim, like always, teased McCoy about it every time Chekov was brought into a conversation.

"You like him don't you," Jim would laugh. "Why you dirty old man."

McCoy would say something smart back and then they would go on talking about whatever the subject had been before Chekov had been brought up. However, McCoy couldn't help but feel a tightening in his stomach every time Kirk voiced his opinion and said that he thought McCoy liked him.

Out of everything that McCoy wanted to shout back at Jim, the one thing he couldn't ever say was, "I don't like the kid." Instead McCoy would insult Kirk, cuss him out, or just ignore the comment but he could never deny that what Jim said wasn't true.

He didn't know why either. It was as if by saying those things he was lying to himself but that couldn't possibly be right. McCoy didn't like the kid. He was just confused by him and wanted to make sure he was okay. Besides he was the ship's doctor, he had to make sure the crew could all function properly.

But just thinking that felt like a lie as well.

McCoy decided that he was just worried for the kid's sake but if that was true why did McCoy try to avoid Chekov the few times they crossed paths. He hardly ever saw, nevertheless talked to him, so to hear Chekov's voice in sick bay one day gave him quit a jolt.

"I am perfectly fine Hikaru," McCoy heard Chekov say in his thick accent. "Really it's just a scratch."

The kid walked in with Sulu close behind him while he pushed him forward with his arm. McCoy looked at both of them and made his eyes focus on Sulu. "What's the problem?" he asked.

"Pavel was helping Scotty with something and ended up slicing open his hand on a wire. He won't let me see the wound but I think it's bleeding a lot," replied Sulu as he pushed Chekov in front of McCoy. "I have to go now but make sure that he doesn't run off before you take a look."

Chekov narrowed his eyes at the back of Sulu's head but didn't make a break for it after he had left like McCoy had expected, and slightly hoped for.

"Um, sit down and let me take a look at it," said McCoy gruffly as he tried not to look Chekov in the face.

Obediently Chekov sat down and held out his hand. It was clinched tightly in a fist around a white rag that was bunched up between his fingers. McCoy wished that the kid would unclench his own had but it seemed like that wasn't going to happen so McCoy did it for him.

"Jesus Christ!" he cried out in shock as he made Chekov's hand relax. The rag was dirty and soaked in dry blood. It had literally become stuck to Chekov's hand which had been stiff because of it.

"Why the hell didn't you come sooner?" McCoy yelled at him. Almost instantly he regretted saying that as Chekov looked down sadly.

"Why didn't you come sooner?" he then asked again, a little more gently this time.

"I wanted to finish helping Scotty and I didn't want to bother anyone else."

He sighed as he looked at the kid. "Your hand is probably now infected and because of that you probably won't be able to help Scotty for a while okay. Next time, you should come immediately if not sooner once you're hut."

Chekov nodded as McCoy started to work on the hand. He first wetted it down so that the dry blood could loosen a bit and that way it wouldn't hurt as much once he had to take the rag off. Underneath the rag, just like he had thought, the wound was already starting to look infected. He cleaned it out and then began to wrap it up in a bandage. Without even meaning to McCoy's hands lingered just a little bit too long on Chekov's and when he let go he let go just a bit too quickly.

"Uh, check in with me later today, right after dinner should be good," he said.

"Thank you sir," said Chekov with a large, kindly smile.

The response made McCoy blush. Chekov looked at him and frowned. "You look red sir. Are you coming down with something?" he asked as he laid a hand against McCoy's forehead.

"No," McCoy said just a little too quickly. "Just a bit hot in here."

"Okay, well that's good. We can't have our best doctor coming down with something," said Chekov as he turned around and headed back to were ever he was off to. McCoy was lucky that Chekov had left the moment that he had said that. If he had stayed any longer, he would have seen an even redder McCoy if that was even possible.

McCoy still denied that he liked the kid though. I've just never had a patient ask if I was okay before. It just put me off, he thought to himself.

However, the thought seemed more like an excuse than an adequate reason.

McCoy sat eating dinner with Spock in his quarters. Every once in a while McCoy would eat with him, Kirk, or both. Tonight it was just Spock however and they talked a little about their current mission, how everything was going, and what not. When the rest of the crew wasn't around and it was only McCoy and/or Kirk, Spock was a lot more open and responsive.

Sadly, he also seemed a lot more curious.

"So how long have you liked Ensign Chekov?"

He nearly choked on his food as he heard Spock ask the question which made Spock in return race an eyebrow slightly. "I never said I liked him. When did I say that?" McCoy muttered in defense as he took a long sip of water.

"Well the way you act around him and what Jim told me earlier implies that you like him."

"I'm gonna kill Jim if he ever shows his face in sick bay or my quarters again," McCoy muttered while ignoring the rest of Spock's statement.

"So you don't like him?" Spock asked as his smooth forehead just so slightly bunched up in confusion.

"Well no - I mean it's not - but . . . Argh!" he finally shouted as it seemed that no other words would come. His head hit the table as he fiercely wished he hadn't eaten dinner with Spock or, at the very least, was drunk at the moment.

"I'll take that as a yes," mutters Spock with a hint of amusement in his voice despite the fact that when McCoy looks up, he looks as impassive as ever.

"Oh, shut it you pointy eared bastard," McCoy muttered finally after finding no other words seemed to come.

"I'll take it that you have not fully come to terms with the idea yourself. Nor have you said anything to Ensign Chekov either I guess," said Spock.

"Damn you. Yes on both accounts. Spot on, Mr. Spock, you win the big prize."

He doesn't smile but his mouth twitches slightly at McCoy's humiliation. Seeing as he nearly smiled, McCoy guessed that on the inside the Vulcan was laughing his head off at him. He sighed, looked Spock straight on, and finally said, "You're pretty smart so you tell me: how can I like someone when I'm nearly twice his age."

Spock actually sat back and mulled it over in his head until he seemed to come up with a logical solution. "You don't see him as being seventeen," Spock began. "That is probably why you've been trying to understand him and how he can be so self assured despite his age, and yes Jim told me about how you looked into his history.

"You wish him to be more kid like because you don't think he deserves such a hard life, genius or not. But that is also why you like him, because despite everything he keeps moving forward. You like his character.

"You are also probably attracted to his looks on top of that," Spock finished, his hands clasped in front of him.

If McCoy didn't know better, he would have thought Spock was being smug. However, his words had struck a chord in McCoy.

"I also think Chekov likes you in return."

That made McCoy look up really quickly. A large part of him was thinking yes but he ended up saying, "Spock if you keep joking around I'm going to start thinking you are sick or something."

"I am not sick doctor," he replied simply. "I simply believe that Chekov truly likes you in turn. Though he does not speak of you often, when he does or hears your name, a slight smile breaks out and he seems happier than you can imagine."

For a moment he was quite, didn't say a word. Softly he finally asked, "I swear if you're pulling my leg I'll fucking murder you Spock."

"I am not 'pulling your leg' as you so put it," he replied as he glances at a clock on the wall. "I do believe that he is waiting for you in sick bay right about now if I do remember correctly as well."

McCoy glanced at the clock and then muttered something about Spock talking to much as he immediately put his food down and rushed to sick bay. Spock simply smiled as he watched his friend run off and went on to finish his dinner.

When McCoy ran in to sick bay somehow Spock had been right and Chekov was already waiting for him.

"Doctor McCoy," said the kid brightly with a smile on his face. "I was wondering where you where."

"Just finishing up talk with a friend," McCoy said as his face becomes slightly red again. "Come over here and sit down. I want to see if it's begun to scab over yet and make sure it isn't still infected."

Chekov obeys right away and comes to sit down beside him and holds out his hand. McCoy unwrapped the bandages as he looks at the wound. It's not infected and looks like it will heal nicely if left clean. However, he doesn't let go immediately and instead just sits there, staring at Chekov's hands.

"Is something wrong?"

"No," McCoy replies quickly. He turns around, letting go of the kid's hands, as he grabs some a new role of bandages and turns back around.

He nearly has a fucking heart attack. Chekov is right there in McCoy's face. They are both quite, neither one making a move until Chekov said, "I heard you liked me."

"Really?" replied McCoy. He tried to sound nonchalant but his heart beats faster as Chekov leans in. his eyes are as bright as ever as McCoy realizes just how beautiful they really are.

"Yes," Chekov replies back. "Would you like to know my answer?"

McCoy doesn't get a chance to reply back with a yes or no for already Chekov's lips have descended upon McCoy's. His lips press lightly at first, then harder and with more passion as McCoy doesn't pull away but instead bends into him.

"Chekov," McCoy whispered softly as his lips part slightly to take in air.

"Please, call me Pavel," he replied with as his lips brush McCoy's jaw line and then ear. "And I will call you Len."

The way he says McCoy's name makes him shiver underneath Pavel. The kisses become more frequent as his hands brush down Pavel's side and he pulls Pavel into him even tighter than before.

"I love you," whispered McCoy and then, just to try out the name he adds, "Pavel."

It was perfect; everything was especially the feeling of Pavel against him. Then Uhura walked in.