The title fails epicly, but the fic may or may not fail. I'm becoming a little more sure of myself on this. ^.^'''
“Doctor?” a small, timid voice reached Leonard McCoy’s ears. He turned. Chekov was standing awkwardly in the doorway to the medbay, his hands clasped behind his back, rocking on his heels, hunched in on himself. Bones found something stirring in the pit of his stomach at the sight of the boy.
“Chekov. What can I do you for?” he winced inwardly at his word choice, hoping that Chekov’s incomplete knowledge of the English language didn’t include puns. The boy shifted awkwardly.
“I……um, zhat is to say……..you told me……….you told me to come to you……….if I…..um…..” his voice was getting softer and softer. McCoy just blinked at him.
“What?” he asked. The boy winced, but no pretty, rosy flush came to his lightly freckled cheeks.
“You said…….zhat if…….if I needed……..needed to….to……” he looked up helplessly at the CMO, who was still nonplussed.
“Okay kid, either you really need to learn how to express yourself, or I’m just stupid” he said. The boy sighed, then opened his mouth all the way, revealing his elongated fangs. Bones blinked.
“Oh. I-oh……oooohhh, yeah, I……..yeah kid, sure, no problem” he swallowed, “Just let me finish some paperwork, then we can head back to my quarters” the boy nodded quickly.
“Zank you” he whispered fervently, his pupils rapidly dilating.
The next twenty minutes were extremely awkward as Bones tried to ignore the sound of Chekov’s breathing, which happened to be getting louder and louder. He rubbed his temples. The rest of this wasn’t urgent. He could finish it tomorrow. He shuddered inwardly. They hadn’t discussed what had happened that night, nearly a month ago. He remembered nothing between the time he had gathered Chekov up into his arms and when he woke up the next morning. Nothing. He felt a little shakier. This wasn’t an emergency situation; his instincts weren’t on red-alert. He had time to think about what he was doing. Which probably wasn’t a good thing. He let out a long breath, standing up.
“C’mon, kid” he said softly. Chekov was by his side in an instant, clinging to his arm, his eyes full of suppressed hunger. It took all the self-control he had not to push the boy away, the small, cold hands gripping his arm like a vice. They went into his quarters, and he sat down heavily on the bed. The boy was panting with need.
“Do you vant to do it here, Doctor?” he asked breathlessly, “Vee can do it in the chair if you vant. Vhatewer is most comfortable for you” he practically moaned the last few words. McCoy took a deep breath and shook his head.
“No…no….this is fine” he beckoned jerkily, and the boy all but leapt onto his lap. The boy was moaning in anticipation. Bones closed his eyes, taking a shaky breath. It was so sudden, so abrupt, that he would have had a heart attack had he been able. It was like being pulled underwater, he felt weightless and giddy, endlessly happy. It was as though his joy and happiness and pleasure could consume everything; he was bursting with it. He wasn’t sure if he was giggling like an idiot, but he wouldn’t be surprised. He clung tighter to the boy as ecstasy consumed him, finally coming to his mind-blowing orgasm.
Chekov was still moaning, lapping at the wound. He pulled back and stared down at the doctor, who was lying peacefully underneath him, happy and docile. The boy got up, a spring in his step and a smile on his face. He sighed happily, then glanced back down at McCoy, and the smile slipped a little. He wouldn’t tell him, couldn’t tell him, that ideally, he needed to feed once a week. He couldn’t do that to Bones, and there was no one else he trusted enough to tell his secret. He briefly considered telling Hikaru, but quickly dismissed the thought. He could see his friend being weirded out by his condition, and he really couldn’t see the pilot allowing Chekov to feed on him. He used the replicator to make some food, then went over to feed the doctor. McCoy lay just as Chekov had left him, a smile on his mouth, his eyes closed, his breathing slow and even. But Chekov knew he was awake. He sat the CMO upright, feeding him the replicated meal. He lay the man back down, then, after a pause, undressed him. The young ensign got hard as he peeled the clothes off the doctor’s body, unable to resist the temptation to run his hands across those defined muscles. He sighed dreamily. The doctor wasn’t ripped by any means, but his abs were well defined, his biceps firm and decent sized. Chekov spread kisses over those biceps, moving up onto the doctor’s shoulder. He heard McCoy murmuring, and a thrill went through his body. He could have sex with him. The doctor would do anything he told him to do. The man was putty in his hands. Chekov found himself moaning. He quickly crawled off the bed and undressed, jacking off desperately. He cleaned up after himself and put his boxers back on before cuddling up with the doctor, and going to sleep.