Goldilocks and the Threesome

Part Five:

Thanks to his good friend, Mr. Scott, Chekov had managed to book a shuttle craft to take him to Earth, some hours before the captain and his lovers were due to leave. He had not, unfortunately, thought to bring anything with him that might help him navigate the forests of Iowa with any real success. A wizard with technology he might be, but good at orienteering he was not.

He had intended only to look around the cabin and get out, waiting outside for his chance to... well, he hadn't exactly known what he'd planned to do, but Chekov had expected to have plenty of time to hatch a plan while the three senior officers got up to... whatever three men in love got up to. But, after having wasted so much time wandering in circles, he'd nearly gotten caught in the act and had to dive inside a nearby closet when he heard the front door bang open.

By the time the captain and his lovers finally left, Chekov was hungry, tired, and more than ready to get back to the Enterprise. He now knew exactly what three men in love got up to – and he was certain he would never be able to look any of them in the eye again.

If he was honest with himself, Chekov was a little frightened by his own response to Kirk, Spock, and McCoy's lovemaking. He wasn't as disgusted as he thought he would be by the sounds he'd spent several long hours listening to...

And that disgusted him.

Or should disgust him. His thoughts on the matter were suddenly more confused than they'd ever been before. Even more confused than that time Mr. Scott had, after much too much to drink, leaned in close to Chekov, patted his cheek, and said, "Ach, but yer a bonnie we laddie, aren't ye?"

Stiff and sore – and shaking off bad memories – he poked his head out from the closet he'd been hiding in. The sound of masculine laughter faded as, he assumed, the senior officers moved away from the cabin. Sighing with relief, Chekov stepped out of the closet and made for the exit.

Opening the front door, Chekov took a deep breath, enjoying the smell of everything that wasn't sex and dust. He was ready to say "to hell with it" and forget about his plan altogether when his stomach rumbled, reminding him of exactly how long it had been since he'd had anything to eat. Chekov eyed the old fashioned refrigerator in the kitchen for a long moment before making up his mind.

Breakfast was on them. Chekov rifled through the fridge, helping himself to a little of this and a little of that, tossing empty containers and stay-fresh wrappers this way and that as he sated his hunger. A grin broke out on his face when he spied the six pack on the bottom shelf – the captain's, no doubt. He helped himself to that as well.

Beer under one arm, and a plate full of food in the other hand, he headed into the living room. If Lt. Commander McCoy was anything like the other fishermen he'd known, Chekov had a few hours to kill before the men returned. Smiling to himself, he threw himself down on the sofa and clicked on the old view screen.