While Chekov slept soundly next to him, Kirk was wide awake. He couldn't stop thinking about what he saw.
Why didn't he tell me?
He briefly knew someone back in the Academy who had those same scars on his chest. He didn't really think much of it until he saw them on his ensign's body. He started raking through his thoughts, desperately trying to figure out if he had ever said anything that could have possibly offended him.
Have I ever called him a girl as a joke? No, I don't think I have… Fuck, Pavel, why didn't you tell me?
He figured that this was why Bones was so secretive over his check-ups. He wondered if anyone else knew besides Bones, in fact. Kirk couldn't imagine going through having that kind of a burden on his shoulders and feeling like he couldn't tell anyone. Chekov seemed happy, but what kind of pain did he have to deal with for his whole life? Did other people make him feel unsafe and therefore didn't tell anyone?
He suddenly felt sick to his stomach during those times where he teased Chekov for those times that he wouldn't change in front of anyone—he either went into a stall or avoided the room entirely. He thought that he was just shy, but knowing the truth made him want to punch himself in the face.
I'm such an asshole.
He didn't remember falling asleep, but he woke up to Chekov making a cry of distress.
"Wha… what's going on?" Kirk grumbled.
"I did not sleep in zis shirt!" Chekov exclaimed. He had a look of absolute fear in his eyes. Kirk suddenly remembered that he had changed his clothes the night before because they had spilled drinks on them.
Shit.
"Pavel, calm down—"
"Did you do zis?" he asked. He looked like he was going to cry, making Kirk bite his lip.
"Yes, I did." He said finally. "Your shirt was dirty and I didn't want you sleeping in alcohol-soaked clothes. I know you're freaking out because you know what I saw."
Chekov was so mortified that his whole face was bright red.
"Pavel, please, there's nothing to be embarrassed about. It doesn't matter to me what kind of scars you have and how they got there. I wish I had known, but it's not in my place to know without you telling me. For that, I'm sorry."
"No, Keptin, I'm ze one who is sorry." Chekov said quietly. "I wanted to tell you, but I got scared. I did not want you to think of me as woman."
"And I don't. I never will. What body you were born in… it doesn't matter. You have every right to change it to how you see fit, and the right to feel comfortable in your own skin. Pavel, are you happy?"
Chekov glanced downwards.
"Happier than I was before." He shrugged. "Before hormones and surgery."
"But not completely?" Kirk asked. Chekov shook his head.
"I am always constantly afraid ze wrong person will find out, and zat I will be looked a differently than everyone else."
Kirk didn't know what to say. Instead, he hugged the ensign tightly in his arms.
"If anyone treats you less than what you deserve, they'll answer to my fist." Kirk whispered. "Probably to both of them."
"Zank you, Keptin." Chekov said quietly.
"What do you need right now?" Kirk asked, letting him go. Chekov stared at him. Kirk seemed sincere about his offer, and he was at least relieved that he no longer had to sneak around so that Kirk wouldn't find out. After a few moments, Chekov spoke.
"I need something for zis hangover." He mumbled. Kirk smiled and burst out laughing.
"That's no problem, Pavel. But seriously though, please tell me if there's anything I can do for you."
"Why do you care so much about zis, sir?" Chekov asked.
"Because you're more than my ensign; you're one of the few people I consider one of my best friends."
Chekov smiled at that.
"Da, me too, sir."