DISCLAIMER :: Pscht. That would be nice.

WARNINGS :: SLASH. Lots of snuggling. Very short. Not beta-ed.

A/N :: Yeah, I dunno. This has been rattling around in my head for a few days and I just wanted to get rid of it. That, and I really needed to write something. But at least it's cute… kind of. If you just squint and tilt your head to the left a little, just like that… (Btw, first cuddling scene. And first story with no talking. Whoa.)

Inspired by :: Lack of sleep. And too much time on my hands. ;)

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Chekov was sleeping with his socks on.

Kirk wasn't surprised.

The captain was currently standing in the doorway to the Russian's room, watching the boy sleep, and without his permission, his feet began to take him closer towards the bed where the curly haired beauty was nestled into his blankets.

After a few moments that felt like years to the suddenly anxious captain, he was standing directly by the bed, staring down at Chekov with a mixture of apprehension and longing swimming in his blue eyes.

Kirk didn't know what it was, but there had been something that had attracted Jim to the Russian from the very beginning. Sure, he was cute, and brilliant, and who could forget the accent? But there was something else, something deeper that Kirk just couldn't avoid, no matter how hard he tried (which, admittedly, was not very hard).

With what seemed to be a mind of its own, his hand reached down to lay atop the gorgeous brunette curls, safe in the knowledge that the teen was lost somewhere deep in Dreamland…

So, it was to Kirk's immense shock that his wrist was suddenly stopped by a thin, pale hand, and he looked down nervously, hoping against all hope that he didn't see something unpleasant in that young face.

Surprisingly, the only thing Kirk saw was shining grey eyes and a mischievous smirk on the face of the younger before he was dragged heavily down onto the bed, narrowly missing falling on top of Chekov.

The Russian immediately pounced, hastily unwrapping his cocoon of blankets and folding himself into the Captain's waiting arms.

As Chekov snuggled into Kirk, he entwined their legs together, and Kirk shuddered as he felt the soft fabric of the Russian's socks brushing against his bare feet.

While Kirk wrapped his arms around the much smaller male and nuzzled his neck, reveling in the small sound of contentment the teen made, he made a silent note to thank Scotty for breaking the heater and giving him a reason to go check on Chekov in the first place.

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The end! (:

Is it just me being hypercritical, or did it seem a little rushed? Hm.

Ah well. Hope you liked it anyways, and drop me a line or two if you get the chance. But if not, that's cool too.

(Side note :: There was actually s'pposed to be this really elaborate plot to this, starting with Scotty getting drunk and breaking the heater and then Kirk being afraid for Chekov's life and going and making sure he hadn't died and Chekov being mischievous and planning the whole thing and yeah. I was just lazy. Maybe I'll write it though, someday. And I also have no clue why Kirk is barefoot in this. Hm.)