Series: TOS Rating: [NC-17] Codes: K/C

Summary: Captain Kirk awakens to find himself sharing shore leave with his birthday wish.

The symbol ~~ denotes the beginning and ending of an internal thought. The symbol ___******___ denotes the beginning and ending of a flashback. The symbol __***__denotes the beginning and ending of a dream within a flashback. Too many symbols? Well, I hope it'll make sense once you get there.

Warning: This story contains m/m sex. If you are not interested in such things or under eighteen years of age, please point your browser elsewhere on the information superhighway. Thanks in advance.

Disclaimer: Copyright February 2000 by Marcee Evans. This is an original work of amateur fiction based on Star Trek. It makes transformative use of Star Trek and is intended only for noncommercial purposes. This work makes "fair use" of Star Trek copyrighted material; it is not intended to infringe on the intellectual property rights of Paramount, Viacom or other owners of copyright in Star Trek or any of their assignees or licensees. The author's copyright extends only to the original material in this work.

Archive: Okay to archive at the ASC* Archive. All others, please ask first by contacting me at MizzMarcee@yahoo.com. Thanks.

Comments: I welcome comments, either on the COCO_Channel, SSD, or ASCEML newsgroups or via e-mail.

Dedication: Kudos and thanks to Karmen Ghia and Jane (skazki) for being my beta readers--and for their continued enthusiasm and support to this newbie on the block. I'd also like to acknowledge them both for their writings, which have kept me pleasantly entertained for hours on end and helped me see the potential of this and many other pairings. Finally, I'd like to thank Scarlet for her wonderful feedback, and tickling my funny bone with her wonderful "Mount Olympus" stories. Be sure to check out their websites at: http://karmen_ghia.tripod.com/, http://www.users.globalnet.co.uk/~skazki/, and http://www.oocities.org/Paris/Gallery/3114/ respectively.

Another shameless plug: A BIG thank you all around to everyone in the SocForSlashDiversity and COCO_CHANNEL groups for your enlightening and entertaining discussions. You guys are a riot! I would be remiss if I didn't add a shameless plug here for these two most excellent groups. Check them out today at http://www.oocities.org/SoHo/Workshop/8831/.

Now, on to the real reason you're here--

---------------------------------

The Birthday Wish

By Marcee Evans

James Kirk awoke with a gasp, as if startled out of some deep, intense dream.

He moaned slightly at the dull pain that clamped down on all sides of his skull as he tried repeatedly to lift his groggy head and open his eyes. Finally deciding the effort wasn't worth the pain at this particular moment, he relaxed back into the pillows.

~~Gods, what a hangover!~~

Physical sensations began to dribble one-by-one into the fogginess of his consciousness. The captain slowly realized that he was lying on his left side. Gradually, he regained feeling in his limbs, and found that his arms were wrapped around a body in front of him. He discerned his chest pressed close against a smooth back, his left cheek flat against the person's neck. Kirk listened to the slow, even breathing of the person next to him. Soft breaths tickled the hairs on his forearms.

~~Male, female, or alien?~~

Kirk slowly ran his right hand down the arm of the person lying next to him as he tried to recall the events of the previous evening. His memory was still a muddy clump, impenetrable in the haze of a blinding hangover. His fingers ventured down to a muscular hand, and then to a flat stomach. Kirk's hand continued to skim downwards until he encountered course pubic hair and a flaccid cock below.

~~Male?~~ Kirk asked silently as he ran his left hand up along a definitely masculine chest. The captain noticed his bedmate's cock beginning to respond as he continued to cup the stiffening flesh with his other hand.

"Mmmmmmm?" a tenor voice sighed softly.

The other man shifted slightly in his sleep then slid his right hand down. Clumsy fingers clamped down on the captain's hand. Threading his fingers with Kirk's, the other man guided the captain in giving his erection a couple of long, slow strokes. Kirk felt his bed partner press further back against him, then relax in blissful sleep.

Kirk finally pried his eyes open a crack. His head still pounded relentlessly, but he managed to slowly lean himself up onto his left elbow.

He couldn't see much. Even with his eyes open, the effects of the hangover stabbed his eyes with daggers of white-hot light. He allowed his eyes to adjust in the dim light of early morning until he could just make out the naked body tucked against him.

The captain pulled his hand away from his companion's groin and ran his fingers back up the muscular arm. Kirk gripped the man's right shoulder, causing his bed partner to roll onto his back. Although the light was still poor, he could make out enough of the man's distinctive features to immediately place a name to the face.

"Chekov?"

"Mmmmmmm?" the young ensign moaned as he began to stir from his slumber. He opened his eyes and blinked up at Kirk. A wide smile slowly crossed his lips and the Russian reached up with both hands and cupped the older man's face. He pulled the captain down into a deep kiss that left them both breathless.

"Good morning, sir--and happy birthday," Chekov whispered affectionately into the captain's ear.

"Ch--," Kirk started, but his voice was cut off abruptly as the Russian pulled him into another deep kiss. Chekov teased the captain's tongue with his own and, for a moment, Kirk lost himself in savagely exploring the inside of the young man's mouth.

Kirk felt his body beginning to respond, and he immediately broke off the kiss. "Chekov?" He leaned back up on his left elbow, looking down at the young ensign. A thousand emotions coursed through his body in an instant, not the least of which was the sudden fear of what could happen to them both if they took things any further. Fraternizing with a junior officer in his direct chain of command. Starfleet would have his butt in a sling for sure.

The Russian looked up at Kirk, his dark eyes wide with surprise. "I do not understand why you call me that name, sir. Do you not remember? I told you last night--I am called Pasha. I am your birthday wish."

"You're my what? What the hell are you talking about? Did someone put you up to this, ensign?"

"No, sir. Of course not. You chose me."

"I chose you, ensign? That's impossible." He shook his head in frustration. "This isn't funny anymore. Your name isn't Pasha, it's Pavel Chekov--Ensign Pavel Chekov--and this is a mistake."

Kirk started to pull away, but the Russian grabbed the captain firmly around the waist and twisted both of their bodies down into a heap on the bed.

The young Russian looked up at Kirk, his eyes large and dark. A trace of anger threatened to brew under those knitted brows. The accent in his voice was more pronounced than usual as he replied bitterly, "But you chose me to be your birthday wish. You seemed quite satisfied with me last night. Are you saying that I now displease you so much that you want to send me away?"

Kirk sighed. How the hell could he answer that when he couldn't even remember what happened the night before?

"I'm afraid you have me at a disadvantage. I don't remember what happened here last night. The events are still a total blur for me."

The Russian chuckled. As if trying to break the tension between them, he brushed his fingertips over Kirk's left nipple and teased, "One thing is certain, you cannot hold your vodka, sir."

Kirk turned his head and noticed the nearly empty vodka bottle on the floor by the door. A single glass was tipped on its side on the nightstand by the bed. He clamped his eyes shut and groaned loudly. "Vodka? Oh god. No wonder my head feels like it's been through a grinder! What have you done to me, ensign?"

The captain felt himself pulled down, and his unresisting body was cradled gently in place on top of Pasha's warm body. Strong fingertips began to massage his shoulders.

"You selected me, sir," the Russian whispered softly in his ear as he continued to stroke the tense muscles across Kirk's shoulder blades. "You will remember once you are feeling better. I'm your birthday wish. You wished to join me at my dacha for shore leave. I am yours."

Kirk raised his head from Pasha's shoulder and leaned up on one elbow to look down into the Russian's serious face. "You are mine? That makes it sound like I own you or something."

The young Russian looked thoughtfully into Kirk's eyes. "But you DO own me, sir. I am yours. Body and soul. To serve as you wish--at your command."

"You are mine," the captain voiced as he gazed into the endless depths of Chekov's dark eyes. He shivered in response to the words, as if his body was reacting to a memory that hadn't quite connected to his brain just yet.

Kirk felt a pair of legs wrap around his middle while gentle fingertips wandered down the captain's spine to his hips. Insistent hands kneaded Kirk's buttocks, then began to grind his body against the Russian's growing erection. Kirk let out a gasp of pleasure as he felt his cock respond to the friction the young man was creating between their bodies.

"I own you?" Kirk asked with a sly grin as he thrust his hips against Pasha's groin in response, eliciting a soft moan from his young partner.

He studied the Russian's face, reading the desire and need in those expressive brown eyes. Okay, if Chekov, or Pasha, or whatever the hell he wanted to call himself was going to play this charade, then perhaps he would just go along with it for the time being. Kirk figured he could find out who was behind this soon enough. Besides, the Russian's fingers were now tracing along the rim of Kirk's right nipple, causing it to harden under the light, teasing touch.

Desire began to take control over his doubts and misgivings. "I own you," Kirk repeated again, more as a statement to himself than to his companion. "Hmm--I like the sound of that. Yes, indeed."

The captain reached down and captured Pasha's mouth again in a light, gentle kiss. He parted the Russian's lips with his tongue. Pasha's tongue met Kirk's and they swirled together until the Russian retreated and let Kirk in. The captain deepened the kiss further until his body began to ache with need. He could no longer resist his growing desire as he lay entwined, skin-to-skin, within the embrace of the young Russian's naked body.

Kirk finally broke off the kiss, then slid his lips across Pasha's left cheek, and down along his neck. He let out a deep sigh as he rested his cheek on top of his companion's shoulder. Taking deep breaths, he tried to slow his body down. His head was pounding again--no doubt from his increased movements and quickening heartbeat. The headache was becoming unbearable again.

The Russian's hands moved up from Kirk's back to his shoulders. As he rubbed strong fingertips into the captain's muscles, Pasha murmured, "Your shoulders are so tense. Let me help you to relax."

Kirk groaned. "You're not going to serve me more vodka, are you?"

"I've learned my lesson," Pasha said with a laugh. "No more vodka for you, sir." He disentangled his legs from around Kirk's waist.

As soon as the Russian moved away, Kirk felt the uncertainty returning. His imagination started getting the better of himself again. They were on shore leave. What he did in private on shore leave was his business, wasn't it? Technically, he didn't think a romp in the sack with his navigator--or at least someone who looked like his navigator--was expressly forbidden on shore leave, as long as they were discrete about it. But the unease continued unabated. He needed more time to discover what this was all about before he allowed it to go to the next level.

Pasha knelt on the bed. He plumped up a bunch of pillows behind them, placing them against the headboard of the ancient bed. Kirk hadn't noticed their surroundings before, but the strengthening light of daybreak revealed colorful tapestries hung against the walls, and rustic furniture throughout the spacious room. So, this was Pasha's dacha. It somehow fit the young Russian in its simplicity and understated comfort. Nothing frilly or overdone about it. This was definitely a man's sanctuary--a place to just be yourself.

He ventured a glance across to Pasha. The young Russian's body was exactly as he imagined a naked Pavel Chekov would appear--lean, compact frame; strong, muscular shoulders that tapered down to slim hips; powerful legs; delicate feet. Gazing upon the young man in the pale light of dawn, he could feel his body start to respond again, despite himself.

Pasha sat down amongst the pillows, leaning his back against the tall headboard. He placed his hands on Kirk's upper arms. "Come--sit back here against me. I'll take those knots out of your neck and shoulders."

Kirk complied, allowing himself to be pulled backwards between the Russian's bent legs, so that his backside was pressed against Pasha's groin, and his lower back rested against the young man's stomach. He took in a couple of deep, steadying breaths, hoping the Russian hadn't noticed his erection.

"Just relax." Pasha's hands left Kirk's body for a few moments, reaching for something on the nightstand next to the bed. When the Russian's hands pressed against his flesh once more, Kirk felt the coolness of mint against his skin. The body oil ran unabated down Kirk's back, spreading its coolness in a streak all the way down. Pasha's hands settled on the captain's shoulder blades, his thumbs digging in gently, then with a little more force as he pressed into the tense muscles.

Kirk closed his eyes and moaned. He hadn't realized just how tense he had been. The fingers traveled upward to the tops of his shoulders, his nape, then further still, giving Kirk a gentle scalp massage to ease his hangover-induced headache.

Pasha moved his hands down to Kirk's chest, then pulled backwards so that the captain rested fully against the Russian's chest. He gentled Kirk's head back against his shoulder. "Close your eyes," he murmured into the captain's ear.

Kirk did as he was told, and felt Pasha lightly massage down the sides of his neck, then across each collarbone and down his chest. The Russian didn't make any overtly sexual advances, just attended to the task of relaxing the captain under his gentle touch.

Kirk's breathing slowed as he let his mind wander. He tried again to recall the series of events from the previous night that had brought him to this place. His memories were beginning to return slowly as the fog started to clear from his mind.

~~Hmm. Must be the mint.~~

He relaxed fully against the Russian's body, reclining into Pasha's soothing embrace.

* * * *

___******___

Out of his mind's eye, Kirk recalled the image of the planet in the viewscreen as they eased into orbit.

They were way overdue for shore leave. It had been an extremely stressful few months for Kirk and his crew. Everyone was primed for a little rest and relaxation at the newest shore leave destination--Jaeren's Planet. The place was starting to receive rave reviews from all around the Fleet. Even one of Kirk's good friends, Captain Meredith of the USS Yeager, commented in a recent message about his crew's visit to Jaeren's Planet. That was all Kirk needed to give the place a try.

Upon disembarking, McCoy talked him into joining the alpha-shift bridge officers for a drink. They ran into Spock along the way, and joined the others at a large, circular table in the lounge. They ordered what Kirk figured was the first of many rounds.

Jaeren, the planet's proprietor and namesake, came over to greet them. He made a big deal about naming off the other starships, including the USS Yeager, that had visited his planet since the Federation cleared their licensing two months earlier. Talk quickly turned to the main form of entertainment on the planet--THE WISH.

"What is your fondest wish? What is your secret desire? It can come true here and here alone," Jaeren asserted, his hands a flurry of movement as he talked.

The old man turned serious and looked at Kirk as if he could see right through to the very core of the captain's being. "Even starship captains need to make a wish come true. Here and here alone is it possible to go wherever or whenever you want--do whatever you want. You only need to wish it." He raised a pudgy index finger up to his mouth in a dramatic flourish, then, with a glint in his eyes, continued, "No one will ever know the contents of your wish. I promise you total confidentiality."

He took the rest of Kirk's friends in with a sweeping glance, pointing to their nearly empty glasses of Scotch, vodka, and other intoxicating beverages that were set out on the table in front of them. "I am glad to see that you have already spent some time relaxing in our lounge. Good! Please take my advice. Past customers have reported they obtain much greater satisfaction from their wish if they allow their imaginations to run uninhibited. Allow your heart to choose for you--not your head. Choose a time, a place, and who will go on the journey with you, if any. Form the thought in your mind. When you are ready, let me know and I will give you instructions on how to begin your wish."

Jaeren left them at that point to talk to another group from the Enterprise. As Kirk overheard the man's pitch to the other patrons in the lounge, his thoughts wandered. A wish? The idea sounded so tantalizing that he could hardly resist. This was maybe what Meredith was meaning when he said Jaeren's Planet was "unforgettable." He took another gulp of Scotch, then considered his options.

The others at his table quickly began discussing ideas for their own wishes. Sulu quickly decided that he wanted to visit Japan during the feudal era, serving as a samurai warrior for the Emperor. Scotty wanted to serve as a master shipbuilder in the Scotland of old. Uhura just smiled demurely, not revealing her secret wish. Predictably, McCoy chose a visit to his beloved Georgia, lounging under his favorite tree, a mint julep in his hand.

"Hey, Pav, so what about you? Are you going to try it?" Sulu poked his helm partner in the ribs with his elbow, then teased good-naturedly, "I know, you probably want to return to Moscow during the revolution."

The Russian shook his head. He looked down at his vodka, then picked it up and took a big gulp, as if looking for confidence in the clear liquid. A thoughtful expression formed on his face. "I just want a quiet visit at my dacha with someone special. You know--pampering, being pampered?" A blush formed across his cheeks as he looked up at his friends, as if waiting for the teasing to begin.

"So--exactly WHO are you going to spend your shore leave with," Sulu asked with a laugh, "Martha?"

The Russian frowned darkly. "She dumped me, remember?"

"Yeah, I remember. But here's your chance to have a cozy little reunion for old time's sake."

Chekov was about to reply, but Kirk silenced them both with a steely look. "If Mr. Chekov wants to keep that part of his wish private, Mr. Sulu, then we need to respect his decision." A look of surprise formed over Chekov's face as he looked up at Kirk and shyly nodded his thanks. Kirk watched the young Russian then move his attention back down to his drink.

"Your dacha?" Uhura asked, turning to Chekov.

"Yes," Chekov answered matter-of-factly, swirling the ice in his glass. He looked up at Uhura and shrugged. "My grandfather left me his dacha when he died almost two years ago. My parents used it this past summer, but I haven't been back since Grandfather died." The young Russian looked down into his drink again. "I used to spend my summers there while I was growing up. I helped Grandfather with his work. He was a wildlife specialist--" He looked up at Uhura again, a small grin forming over his lips. "It's the only place I know of where I can just be me--Pasha. It is where I feel most at home, most free." He looked back down into his vodka, then sighed. "I've always wanted to share it with someone special--"

Kirk nodded his head. "It sounds nice, Pavel."

"Yeah, almost as nice as Georgia, son," McCoy added with a wistful sigh.

Kirk turned to Spock. He wasn't about to let the Vulcan wriggle out of giving the Wish a try. After a little bit of gentle prodding, Spock finally agreed to take an opportunity to witness Jaeren's incredible technology firsthand. Kirk should have guessed Spock would choose to visit Vulcan for a session of deep meditation and reflection. Figuring that was as close to an uninhibited wish as he'd get from his First Officer, Kirk nodded, accepting Spock's choice without another word.

"How about YOU, Captain?" Uhura asked with a twinkle in her eyes. "It's your birthday tomorrow--or were you planning to let that little fact slip by unnoticed?"

Suddenly reminded of the important milestone, Kirk winced while his shipmates cheered and called for another round of drinks for the table.

"Come on, Jim," McCoy urged. "For your sake, your birthday wish must be a real corker! What will it be?"

He looked down into his Scotch for inspiration. Looking up, he grinned at his friends. "I don't know. It's a difficult choice. So many wishes--so little time." His eyes fell on Ensign Chekov. "I don't know, but for some reason Chekov's wish sounds really nice to me. Visiting a dacha, spending time with someone special. Pampering and being pampered." He caught Chekov's eyes and held them. "Mr. Chekov, do dachas normally come with horses? In my wish, I want to do some horseback riding."

The Russian nodded. "Yes, sir. I imagine you can ask for as many horses as you want at the dacha in your wish."

"Thank you, Ensign. Horseback riding, and maybe some rocky terrain for a little rock climbing."

McCoy turned to Kirk. "So you're going to visit a dacha out in the middle of nowhere? I don't suppose you're going to tell us WHO you're going to have join you on shore leave. Some exotic Russian maiden?"

Kirk shrugged his shoulders. "Hmmm--I haven't decided that part of the wish yet."

Overhearing their conversation, Jaeren returned to their table. "I just heard, Captain, that this is to be your birthday wish. That makes it even more imperative that you choose a wish from your heart. Do not base your wish using your head, or safe and inhibited will be its outcome."

"Kirk? Safe? Inhibited?" McCoy drawled. "Why, putting those terms together is a definition of 'oxymoron' if ever I heard one!"

Jaeren waved off McCoy's teasing and turned to look directly at Kirk. "This is your chance to throw caution to the wind. It is said that the heart knows best what the mind has not yet begun to dream."

The old man leaned in next to Kirk and whispered low into the captain's ear, "If you are having trouble choosing, perhaps you would like to select someone from the lounge for a rendezvous. There are a number of possible companions in this room--all equally attractive and charming."

Kirk looked around the room, giving a number of the women Jaeren referred to a good look. They certainly were beautiful. Any one of them would make a wonderful partner for a weekend of pampering and lovemaking, no strings attached.

As the captain roamed the lounge with his eyes, Jaeren continued in a whisper so only Kirk could hear, "Tell me, does an uninhibited weekend with a stranger interest you? Someone from your past? Or, perhaps you desire a secret love--a forbidden rendezvous? Someone who, because of your rank and your position, has been off limits until now?"

Jaeren stepped away and gave Kirk a mischievous wink. He then turned to the others at the table and said, "Remember, form the wish in your mind. When you are ready, seek me out. I will give you instructions on how to begin your Wish."

Ever the pragmatist, Dr. McCoy asked, "You haven't named your price, Jaeren. How much does this Wish of yours cost?"

Jaeren smiled and spread his hands out towards McCoy. "Why, Doctor, there is no cost to you or any of the Enterprise crew."

"Surely you charge for your services, Mr. Jaeren," Spock intoned dryly.

The old man chuckled. "Actually, there is a charge, my Vulcan friend, but not in credits. Since opening, I have not charged my guests for trying the Wish. You see, happy customers convince their friends to stop here as well. As I build favorable word of mouth, my payment will increase a hundred-fold once I do begin charging for the Wish."

Kirk opened his mouth to say something, but Jaeren continued, "Please, see for yourself." He looked straight into the captain's eyes as he added, "I guarantee you will not be disappointed." With that, the old man turned and moved to a small group that was just settling in at the far end of the lounge.

As Kirk pondered his decision, his friends finished their drinks and said good-bye to him one-by-one. He watched them make their way over to talk to Jaeren, then head into an adjacent room. Soon, just Chekov remained sitting at their table. The young Russian still stared intently into his drink, seemingly unaware that he was alone at the table with his captain.

Kirk left the younger man to his thoughts for a moment as he looked around the lounge one more time for inspiration.

A forbidden rendezvous? That was intriguing in its own right. He ran through a list of possibilities--potential partners from both aboard ship and not. From his past, and from the here and now.

Kirk glanced at Chekov again and the memory of a recurring dream flowed through his mind unbidden.

__***__

The persistent dreams began shortly after he returned with Uhura and Chekov from the planet Triskelion. Although their initiation as Thralls--gladiators for the Providers--was barbaric and humiliating, Kirk couldn't shake the sexual visions that the episode elicited in him during his nocturnal hours.

At first, Kirk dreamt about the exotic Shahna. But, in time, Shahna dissolved into the background and his subsequent dreams began to center more and more on an imagined wrestling match with Ensign Chekov. Thereafter, the only image he visualized in his dream was of Chekov, his bare chest heaving with exertion, struggling against Kirk's strong grip.

The captain found himself aroused as he flung the slim body onto the game board and dropped on top of the ensign. Kirk watched the muscles in the Russian's chest ripple beneath the black training harness as Chekov tried again to squirm away from Kirk's grasp. Feeling the young man's hot breath tickle against his neck, Kirk wrapped his hands around Chekov's waist and twisted his body down again onto the ground with a loud, satisfied grunt. Again and again, the Russian wriggled out from under Kirk, only to have the captain slam him down onto the game board and pin him.

There were times that Chekov seemed about to escape, but Kirk countered his opponent's youthful speed and agility with resolve and brute strength. Kirk's dream always ended the same--with him finally pinning the young man down flat on his stomach in the center of the gaming board.

Kirk's hands clamped Chekov's wrists down to the floor. He pressed his body down full-length on top of the smaller man, his knees spreading Chekov's legs apart. He heard Chekov gasp as he thrust his groin hard into the Russian's backside.

He nipped the back of the young man's neck, leaving a trail of bite marks along the smooth, pale skin. Kirk then hissed into his ear, "Do you submit?"

Chekov's body shuddered beneath him. The Russian shook his head angrily as he tried to squirm away again, but Kirk had him pinned tightly beneath him.

Kirk ground his hips again into Chekov's backside. "Answer me! Do you submit?"

When Chekov wouldn't answer, Kirk released the younger man's wrists and took a firm grasp of the training harness.

Suddenly finding his arms free, the Russian lunged forward in a vain attempt to escape Kirk's hold. He twisted his body away from the captain, but Kirk was ready with a violent jerk on the harness. The larger man had leverage on his side, and used it to wrench the slim body over and slam him down again onto the game board. Dazed, Chekov was quickly subdued firmly onto his back.

The captain locked the Russian's wrists down above his head in a crushing grip, then looked into Chekov's eyes. He read the rebellion and anger in the dark features. Looking deeper, he thought he discovered fear--fear at what was to happen next. The captain smiled.

"Answer me, or I will hand you over to Kloog." Kirk nodded to the towering giant who stood watching their match from the sidelines. "You know what he does to weak little Thralls who are unwilling to cooperate."

Fear and desperation flashed across Chekov's features as he looked up at Kloog's expressionless face, then back at the captain. Kirk felt the younger man's body shudder again. Finally, Chekov closed his eyes and nodded his head.

"Answer me. Out loud."

"Yes," Chekov choked, "I--I submit."

"Louder!"

"I SUBMIT!"

Kirk could hear the roar of the crowd as Galt, the Master Thrall, announced the victor of the match.

He smiled again and released Chekov's wrists. Kirk kept the lower half of the Russian's body firmly pinned beneath him as he ran his hands over as much of the youngster's body as he could reach. Ending at Chekov's sweat-stained chest, he took a firm hold of the training harness again and leaned down. Kirk covered one of the Russian's nipples with his mouth and sucked hard. He felt the younger man's body buck beneath him, but Kirk held him firmly in place.

The captain leaned up on his elbows and clasped his hands on either side of Chekov's face. He was close enough to feel the Russian's hot breath against his cheek.

Kirk looked Chekov in the eyes. "Say it."

The Russian remained defiant, his expressive eyes glowering at Kirk. Sweat beaded along his forehead.

"Come on, say it."

"I am yours," Chekov croaked.

"Louder, so everyone can hear you."

"I AM YOURS."

"Do you mean it?"

Chekov said nothing at first. Then he snaked his arms up and wrapped them around the captain's neck. "Yes. I mean it," the Russian whispered, his voice shaking. "I am yours, sir. I am yours to command."

Kirk chuckled. He liked the sound of that. It always got him aroused. He rubbed his growing erection against the Russian's groin, watching the young man's face intently as Chekov tried not to react to the friction against his body. The captain leaned down to cover the youngster's mouth with his lips. He pried the Russian's jaw open when he found stubborn resistance to his kisses. Clenching his opponent's head firmly, Kirk deepened the kiss, savagely exploring the interior of Chekov's mouth with his tongue until he had to come up for air.

"To the victor goes the spoils," Galt's voice echoed throughout the gaming pavilion. The Master Thrall turned to the combatants. "Kirk, choose your penalty."

This was Kirk's favorite part. He studied Chekov's bruised lips, then looked deeply into the Russian's eyes as he called out, "He is mine. I will possess him as I see fit."

Galt's eyes glowed for a moment. "It is done. He has been vended to you, Kirk."

The captain looked down and noticed that the colored jewels on Chekov's collar had changed to gold. Kirk's color.

Moving his lips down to nibble on the Russian's ear, Kirk whispered, "The transaction is complete. You are mine."

Chekov said nothing to this as Kirk made quick work of stripping off the boots, slacks, and briefs from the young man's sweat-soaked body. He forced Chekov to unfasten his owner's fly, releasing the expanding erection from within the tight fabric. He ran the young man's hand over the erect shaft, working it to full size under their combined touch, all the while keeping eye contact with his new possession.

Kirk grabbed hold of the Russian's legs and hoisted them up over his shoulders. He then flicked a finger over the head of his own erection and caught the beads of moisture already there.

He used his own pre-cum to prepare the young man. His fingers met resistance at each step, but he continued anyway. The captain centered his erection with the entrance to Chekov's body, but stopped just short of thrusting inside the tight ring.

He took a few steadying breaths, then looked down, frowning. "You're going to have to do better than that, Mister," Kirk hissed.

Chekov blinked up at him, as if coming out of a fog. He was clearly trying to shut out what was about to happen.

"Submitting means that you are mine, body and soul. I can take your body. I can force myself inside you, tear you in half if I have to, but you must submit willingly to my command, without this childish rebellion. Do you understand?"

Chekov nodded his head with a soft sigh.

Kirk felt the young man trying to comply, trying to relax. He stroked his shaft back to full erection, then pressed the head in with a tiny push.

Kirk heard the Russian let out a muffled cry as he slowly sank down into Chekov's body. Grunting once he hit bottom, the captain looked down into the dark eyes again--eyes that now only showed defeat and resignation.

"Say it again. I want to hear you say it while I'm inside you." Kirk started to thrust his hips into a regular rhythm, penetrating the young man deeper and harder with each push. "Say--it."

"I--I am yours," the Russian choked as he wrapped his arms around the captain's shoulders and hung on.

As Kirk established a rhythm, he prodded Chekov to thrust in counter-motion, building the heat between them even higher. He grabbed the Russian's training harness with both hands for leverage and pounded into the body beneath him in harder and harder thrusts in front of the drill Thralls, Uhura, Shahna, Galt, the Providers, and anyone else who cared to watch on the viewscreen from the Enterprise.

He began stroking Chekov's erection beneath him, grinning as he studied the Russian wince and gasp under his touch.

Chekov's whimpers urged Kirk higher. He didn't know whether the Russian was finally building to his own climax, or was breaking down in tears, but Kirk didn't care. He felt Chekov thrash in his arms, then shudder violently beneath him. Hot cum splattered across Kirk's torso just as he plunged deep inside the Russian's body one last time. Strong muscles clenched around the captain's shaft and he surrendered in an explosion of semen.

Kirk collapsed on top of Chekov's limp body. He listened to the young man's stuttering breaths and smiled.

"Mine. All mine."

__***__

Kirk blinked, the dream suddenly disintegrating around him. He was back in the lounge, feeling his erection straining against the confines of his slacks. He took in a couple of deep, calming breaths. The dream usually elicited a monstrous climax and release in him. Thank god he hadn't come right there in the lounge!

Jaeren's Planet. The Wish.

Kirk suddenly realized that he was still staring at Chekov. Luckily, the ensign's attentions seemed to remain far away, centered on his drink. He looked back at the crowd, before Chekov could look up and find that the captain's gaze had settled on him.

Who was he going to select for his birthday wish? That was the question before him.

He remembered the old man's words. A forbidden rendezvous? An imaginative choice? Throw caution to the wind? Absolutely, if what was forming in his mind ultimately became his birthday wish.

He took another drink of his Scotch. An idea was taking shape--an idea that included a dacha, and horses, and someone special to share it with. His body was starting to react just imagining it.

"Uh--sir?"

Kirk blinked, then turned back to look at his young ensign. Looking directly into the young man's hesitant eyes, he clamped down on a smile. Apparently the Russian had just realized he was alone with his captain. "Yes, Mr. Chekov?"

Chekov looked up at Kirk through his heavy bangs, making the young man even more irresistible. A slight blush coursed over his pale cheeks, as if he suddenly regretted barging in on his captain's thoughts. He gave a wan smile, stood up, and then murmured, "I hope you have an enjoyable visit to your dacha, Captain. Happy birthday."

Kirk nodded and smiled. "Thank you, ensign. And you have fun on your Wish, too." He gave the young man a knowing wink, then added, "Remember--lots of pampering."

A blush coursed up Chekov's face again. He nodded shyly, then turned away.

Kirk watched Chekov make his way across the lounge. He studied the slim figure, admiring the Russian's broad shoulders, how his back angled in an attractive way down to a tight butt. He let his mind wander to a vision of Chekov, barebacked, in his Thrall training harness. Kirk wondered, not for the first time since the dreams began, what Chekov would be like in bed. Would he submit willingly, or need to be subdued like in Kirk's dreams? He knew he would never find out, but it was pleasant to speculate.

Kirk tossed his head back as he drank down his Scotch in a single gulp. He ventured one final glance at Chekov, who was heading out the same door of the lounge as the others. Turning, he noticed that Jaeren was walking his way. Once the old man reached his table, the captain grinned and announced, "I've decided."

___******___

***

"Sir?"

Kirk awoke abruptly to find himself still leaning back against his Russian companion. "Oh, sorry. I must have dozed off."

"I'm sorry I woke you," Pasha whispered.

Kirk felt the younger man wrap his arms around his chest. The Russian planted kisses down his cheek, keeping them light and gentle as if being careful not to provoke another headache.

Kirk sighed softly, enjoying the pampering touch. He now knew why he was here. This was his Wish. Pasha was his, and he suddenly felt at peace. At this particular moment, he was not a starship captain and Pasha was not his ensign. He didn't have to hold back any longer. He was finally free to act on the desires that his subconscious apparently sought to fulfill since he returned from Triskelion.

The captain felt Pasha's hands slowly move down his torso. This, apparently, was the pampering part of his Wish. Kirk sighed again, loving the Russian's touch on his body. He could still feel the dizzying headache that was kept at bay just at the surface. It threatened to wash over him at any moment with even the slightest increase in tempo. No wrestling matches for the moment. Kirk had to admit that a little light pampering was about all he could handle right now.

He grasped the Russian's left hand in his and brought it up to his lips. He closed his eyes, kissing the top of the muscular hand, massaging the palm with his fingertips. Kirk then turned the hand over and licked the soft palm, gently nipping his teeth into the fleshy part right under the thumb. He took each digit into his mouth, starting with the pinky, and sucked. He took extra time with Pasha's thumb, pulling on it sensuously with his lips as Pasha's right hand slid down to Kirk's cock and fondled him gently.

Kirk's lips tracked down to the Russian's wrist, licking the warm skin, feeling the quickening pulse under his light touch. The captain opened his eyes and focused on the muscular arm before him. What he saw brought a startled gasp to his lips. Dark bruises ran along the insides of Pasha's left wrist, ending midway down his forearm. Kirk grabbed the Russian's right hand, examining the other arm as well. It was as badly bruised as the left arm.

"What happened here?" Kirk demanded, his full attention turned to the Russian's injuries.

"I--uh--," the Russian began. He looked down at his arms, still held out in Kirk's grasp. Dark eyes finally looked up at Kirk and he shrugged. "We got a little carried away last night."

"I did this to you?" Kirk gasped. The violence of his dreams suddenly took on a more sinister role and he shivered.

"We were both drunk. Things just got a little carried away, that's all."

Kirk let go of Pasha's wrists, then got up on his knees to face the Russian directly. He placed a concerned hand on the young man's shoulder. "I didn't hurt you anywhere else, did I?"

Pasha shrugged again. "I'll heal. Last night was--" The Russian's voice trailed off, then he smiled up at Kirk as he found the right word. "--Incredible," he added, "We just took it a bit rough the first time." He ran his fingertips up Kirk's biceps, then wrapped his arms around Kirk's neck. The young man leaned forward and gave the captain a gentle kiss on the lips, then murmured, "I must say, you were not a very patient guest last night, sir."

Kirk smiled at the Russian. "Well, my memory of last night is still a bit foggy from the alcohol. But I'll try to remember not to leave as many bruises next time, okay?" To prove that point, Kirk encircled Pasha's waist in his hands and gently pressed the slight body down into the pillows.

"I've wanted to take you in my arms like this--ever since Triskelion." He kissed the Russian with all of the passion that he had ever dreamed of bestowing upon his young navigator.

After they came up for air, the Russian's warm eyes met the captain's gaze and held it. A broad smile formed across Pasha's bruised lips, and Kirk just had to reach back down and taste them again. He lingered there for awhile, then moved his lips over his lover's forehead, skimming across a set of full eyelashes, and then settling along a flushed cheek.

"I'm glad you're my birthday wish. I couldn't have asked for a better present."

Kirk's lips drifted downward, pressing along the Russian's throat and to the hollow space just above the breastbone. His tongue remained there, feeling the quickening pulse under his touch. Kirk angled his head to graze lower, but stopped as a sharp wave of dizziness suddenly washed over him.

With a loud groan, Kirk sank down on top of Pasha, resting his head against the young man's shoulder.

"Oh, god. I'm sorry. I guess my hangover is still hanging on a bit longer. My head feels like it's about to explode."

Pasha wrapped his arms snuggly around the older man's shoulders and gave him a hug. "That's okay. You need a bit more rest, and I need to do my chores. We have two whole days." The Russian kissed the captain softly, then squirmed out from underneath.

"Chores?" Kirk asked sleepily, leaning up on his left elbow and watching the Russian climb out of bed.

"Yes, sir. I need to tend to the horses. They need to be brushed down, fed, and watered." Pasha placed a warm hand on the captain's shoulder. "But first, I need to help you to relax and get rid of your hangover."

The Russian coaxed him to lie down flat on his stomach. Kirk then felt his partner kneel down between his legs. More of the cooling mint body oil was spread onto his spine, and then strong hands pressed down onto his lower back. Pasha dug his fingers in slowly, working out the tension in Kirk's muscles. The fingers hit a particularly tender spot in his lower back, and Kirk nearly jumped to his knees with a muffled yelp. Strong hands pressed his body back down into the pillows. Pasha worked his way up the captain's back, applying the same attention and care to each muscle group along the way. By the time the Russian's fingers worked their way to his shoulders and neck, Kirk discovered he was lying perfectly relaxed, content, and nearly asleep.

The healing massage done, Kirk felt warm lips press kisses against his lower back and then his shoulder. A sheet was pulled up, covering him to his neck. A warm hand rested on his shoulder.

It wasn't until much later that Kirk realized he must have dozed off again, and that the hand no longer rested on his shoulder. He found himself still lying on his stomach on the bed--alone in the spacious bedroom. He listened for sounds from the adjacent rooms in the cottage, but heard nothing.

~~That's right. Pasha needed to tend to the horses.~~

Kirk rolled onto his side. His head didn't feel quite so groggy as before. That was a good sign. He stretched his body voluptuously, like a cat in the morning sun.

He opened his eyes and looked around the room. Noticing an oil lamp on the oak bureau, he suddenly shivered, recalling the flickering light it gave off the previous evening when he had first arrived at this place.

Other images formed unbidden within his mind. In the fragmented memories, he remembered finding Pasha before him, welcoming him to the dacha. The light from the flickering oil lamp reflected in Pasha's large, expressive eyes. He was offered a drink, and sat in a large chair in the main living area. A large fire blazed in the fireplace. He felt the warmth of the fire touching his cheeks. Or perhaps it was the vodka.

But then the images became more chaotic. He visualized his own hands pulling impatiently on the front of the Russian's white peasant shirt--finally ripping off the buttons when his drunken fingers couldn't work the shirt open fast enough. Doing much the same with Pasha's pants. Pinning the slight body beneath him. Wanting the young man with all his being. Impatiently taking him--possessing him almost by force.

Other urges suddenly broke into his awareness. Kirk swung his legs over the edge of the bed and carefully pulled himself upright. He looked around the bedroom, then spied a half-open door that revealed his intended destination. He navigated across the room in a less-than straight line and ducked into the bathroom.

After relieving himself, Kirk headed back into the bedroom. He found Pasha's white shirt from the night before, crumpled in a ball on the floor. He inspected the torn fabric where the buttons used to be and chuckled to himself.

~~I haven't had a bodice-ripping encounter in awhile.~~

Still feeling a bit off balance, Kirk dropped down into the bed again. He rolled onto his side and just lay there--enjoying the relaxing silence of the dacha, luxuriating in the absence of responsibilities and duty, letting his mind wander.

He heard a door open in the other room, and then the sound of boots being pulled off and dropped with a muffled clunk onto the wooden floor. Pasha silently entered the bedroom in his bare feet. He was dressed in a black suede-leather shirt that buttoned up the front, and a pair of faded blue jeans. When Pasha sat down on the edge of the bed and leaned over him, Kirk detected the musky smell of horses, sweat, and leather. It suddenly seemed like one of the sexiest scents in the world.

"How are you feeling?" the Russian asked softly.

Kirk grinned up at him. "A lot better. I think your massage and that last nap helped. I even remember last night--parts of it, anyway." He hooked his arm around Pasha's waist and pulled the young man down onto the bed with him.

"I'm all sweaty from chores," the Russian complained irritably, but he didn't protest any further as Kirk rolled him over onto his back. Pasha wrapped his legs around Kirk's middle.

"Let's see--I believe we left off here, didn't we," the captain teased, pressing his body down against his partner and gazing into Pasha's dark eyes. He ran his fingers over the Russian's shoulders, enjoying the feel of the suede garment, not to mention the lean body underneath. He kissed Pasha deeply, then moved his kisses down the young man's neck, ending at his throat. He breathed in the scent of his partner as his hands roamed across the young man's chest. "Mmmmm--I love this suede shirt." Kirk looked up into Pasha's eyes. "I'm sorry about the one last night. I won't rip the buttons off this one, okay?"

"I'd appreciate that," Pasha whispered with a slight chuckle as Kirk unbuttoned the first button, then pressed his lips onto the warm flesh exposed underneath the suede garment.

Kirk unbuttoned the next button, and yet another--all the while moving his lips lower to kiss the new area of skin that he just exposed from beneath the garment. The captain's lips found the Russian's left nipple, and he began to suck and tease that part of Pasha's anatomy until it hardened under his urgent ministrations. Then he moved his attention to the Russian's right nipple. As he exposed more and more of Pasha's chest and abdomen, Kirk's hand roamed the expanse of the younger man's back, down to his buttocks, squeezing and caressing until he could feel the body beneath him trembling with arousal.

He unbuttoned the last of the buttons on Pasha's shirt and parted the garment fully to expose the Russian's entire torso. He then centered his kisses on the young man's belly button, which just barely peeked out from under the waistband of the faded jeans.

Pasha moaned softly, his hands brushing through Kirk's hair and stroking his shoulders.

His hands caressed the Russian's inner thighs and buttocks from the outside of the jeans. He moved one hand over to lightly touch, then squeeze, the young man's groin. Pasha's moans became louder, more demanding, as he thrust his hips up in response to the captain's touch. Kirk slowly undid the fly to Pasha's jeans and parted the heavy fabric. He pulled down on the waistband of the briefs that he found beneath the denim, then pressed a long, delicious kiss from Pasha's belly button down the trail of dark curly hair to the denser thatch below.

Kirk chuckled as the Russian's fervent pleas became more and more demanding. He ventured his right hand down inside the front of Pasha's blue jeans and squeezed the hot flesh he found trapped inside. The young man bucked against his touch and Kirk smiled.

He finally allowed Pasha to pull down his blue jeans and briefs, freeing his erection from within the tight fabric. Kirk slid the jeans and briefs off the rest of the way and tossed the garments onto the floor beside the bed.

He heard the Russian utter a loud gasp as Kirk's mouth found Pasha's cock. He sucked the head hard as his hands worked the rest of the shaft. Then his lips worked around the Russian's erection, running up and down the length of it, finally encircling the base.

Leaving the rosy cock for a moment, Kirk pulled up on his lover's knees, then spread the supple legs wider apart. He clutched Pasha's ass in both hands and began to squeeze them as he moved his kisses from his partner's right knee and down his inner thigh. He blew light breaths over the pale skin and felt the Russian jump slightly. ~~So, you are ticklish, my love?~~ Kirk chuckled softly. He was going to file that discovery away for future reference.

He slowly ran his lips further down Pasha's inner thigh, taking his time at the soft hollow place that marked the end of the thigh and the beginning of the groin.

Kirk could feel the Russian straining not to thrust up when he nuzzled the curly patch of hair between the muscular thighs.

He heard Pasha let out another shuddering gasp as the captain's fingers squeezed and caressed his balls, then meticulously held and washed them with his mouth.

Pasha's fingertips dug into Kirk's shoulders, his hands squeezing and pulling as if to speed up the pace of the captain's ministrations. But Kirk was undaunted, determined to take his time and enjoy himself despite his companion's demands otherwise.

Kirk returned to the long-neglected cock, his lips pulling on the head until it was fully erect again. He took devilish delight in building up Pasha's climax time and again until he was nearly over the edge, then pressing it back down from the brink. Each time, his partner groaned in louder and louder agony, the stuttering pleas alternating between Standard and Russian.

Finally, when he decided Pasha could take no more teasing, Kirk worked his mouth down the young man's shaft until he took in the entire length. Taking Pasha's hips in both hands for leverage, he sucked and pulled in ever quickening thrusts until he heard the young man's sobs quicken. This time, Kirk didn't stop the climax from building to its zenith, but let it wash over the young man. He felt Pasha's back arch beneath him as his partner's body surrendered in a shuddering, explosive release.

Kirk swallowed, then withdrew and reverently cleaned the Russian's groin with his lips. He rested his cheek against the young man's flat stomach, smiling to himself as Pasha continued to shiver beneath him.

After a short rest, Kirk sat up and pulled the slight body onto his lap to soothe him. Pasha collapsed against him, and the two clung tightly to one another. Brushing his fingertips through the damp hair, the captain kissed the sweat from the young man's face and neck. He enjoyed listening to each little sob that Pasha made as he trembled within Kirk's strong embrace.

There were many ways to subdue a lover, Kirk thought wryly. One was by force, like in his dreams. Another was by seduction.

Bringing Pasha to climax gave him that old rush of power. Kirk loved feeling that power. To take command and feel his partner respond beneath his touch. Controlling the build up to completion, delaying it until the very last moment. Finally, making that final push over the brink once his lover could do nothing but submit to his bidding.

Kirk centered his kisses over Pasha's throat, feeling the flesh vibrate beneath his lips whenever the Russian moaned softly.

Taking a lover was much like taking command of a starship, Kirk realized. It was the same thrill he experienced when he was in the captain's chair of the Enterprise--ordering her every move, feeling the shiver of powerful engines below him as they kicked into warp drive at his command.

He gave out a mellow chuckle. It was a wonder he didn't get a hard on every time he took the center chair on his bridge.

After Pasha recovered, and his breathing slowly returned to a more normal level, Kirk took hold of the Russian's upper arms. He held the young man out in front of him--as if to inspect the slim body.

"I really do like this shirt," he murmured, running a hand over the black suede shirt that still clung to Pasha's torso. "Is it real leather?"

"Yes, sir."

"Well, it will have to go with the rest of your clothes--," Kirk laughed, "--On the floor." He pulled the shirt down to Pasha's elbows, kissing the pale shoulders beneath. Kirk worked the Russian's arm out of the left sleeve, and then the right one. He tossed the shirt in the opposite direction of the discarded blue jeans.

The captain ran his hands across Pasha's bare shoulders, admiring the young, taut body before him. His hands caressed down his lover's chest, tickling both nipples with his fingertips as they traced downwards over ribs, sliding along the sides, and finally resting on the firm buttocks below. "That's much better."

He gazed into Pasha's dark eyes, surprised to see them studying him in return. Unlike in his dreams, Kirk saw no fear in those eyes, only desire and expectation.

Kirk grinned, then gave Pasha a mischievous look. Without warning, he wrestled the young man down onto the bed and tried to pin the slim body onto his stomach.

Pasha laughed as he wriggled out from under the captain's grasp, then pulled the bed covers over Kirk's head and shoulders.

Still struggling to get untangled from under the sheets, Kirk felt his companion tackle him onto the mattress. The younger man pinned the captain onto his stomach for a brief moment.

Kirk's arm flung out behind him, grabbing the Russian around the ribcage. Still covered in the sheets, the captain pushed up with his knees and rolled back onto the younger man. They hit the mattress a little harder than Kirk expected, and he heard a muted grunt as the wind was knocked out of his partner.

The captain pulled away from Pasha, then untangled the sheets from his upper body. The Russian had rolled over onto his side, away from Kirk.

"Are you okay?" He moved closer, sliding his left hand along his partner's waist. "Pasha?"

An elbow jabbed back into Kirk's ribs, and the Russian was moving again.

"Faker," Kirk laughed, intercepting Pasha. He grabbed the younger man around the waist and shoved him down onto his stomach. Kirk pinned the slight body beneath him.

"Do you submit?" the captain hissed into the Russian's ear.

"Never!"

Pasha squirmed against Kirk's hold, ignoring the captain's attempts to track kisses along his shoulder.

"I want you," Kirk murmured passionately between kisses.

"No!"

Kirk detected a slight increase in the Russian's accent, as if he was trying hard to keep his voice controlled and angry.

"I thought you were mine--to do as I command." Kirk ran his fingertips down along Pasha's hip, letting his hand stray underneath to find the young man's erection.

"Not--," Pasha began, then his body shivered. After a few moments, he recovered, "Not until you say PLEASE."

Kirk laughed. He rolled onto his left side, spooning Pasha back against him. The captain then hooked his right leg across the young man's hip to pin him firmly in place. While Kirk nibbled on the Russian's ear, he continued to stroke his partner's erection with one hand while his other wandered over the young man's right nipple.

"Since when did I ever have to say PLEASE when giving out one of my commands, hmmm?"

"Since you became my guest, sir."

Kirk smiled. The kid had spunk. Even he had to admit it was more interesting that way--rather than entertaining a totally submissive lover, or one who fought tooth and nail against every order, as in his dream.

"I want you--on your stomach, PLEASE." To accentuate his request, Kirk thrust his hips into Pasha's backside, pressing his erection hard against the young man's buttocks. As he thrust a second time, the captain pumped Pasha's cock in one long stroke.

Pasha shivered within the captain's strong embrace. His voice shook slightly as he answered stubbornly, "Depends."

"Depends on what?"

The Russian looked back at the captain out of the corner of his eye. "I may consider submitting if I can call you 'Jim' instead of 'sir' from now on."

"Hmm. Fair enough."

Kirk sat up, gently pulling the Russian up with him. He gave Pasha a meaningful look, then captured the young man's mouth in a passionate kiss.

He felt Pasha's arms wrap around his neck, his body pressing up against his. Kirk moved his hands down to the firm buttocks, caressing and kneading the mounds of flesh. He slid Pasha onto his lap. His hand wandered down to the Russian's cock once more, stroking and squeezing until he could hear his lover's soft breaths catch in tiny gasps of pleasure.

"Jim--"

Never had the sound of his name resonated with such music. He smiled between kisses along the Russian's throat.

He coaxed his partner into a kneeling position over him, straddling the Russian's supple legs on either side of his hips.

Kirk ran his hands up his lover's smooth back, pulling the body against him, feeling their erections rub against each other. Pasha's arms wrapped around his neck again and Kirk could feel his lover's breaths soft against his cheek. He looked up into the Russian's eyes and suddenly thought he had never seen eyes so black before--as deep as space itself.

"Wait--," Pasha whispered, a smile forming over his lips. "I have just the thing." He leaned over to the nightstand and grasped a long, thin vial. He warmed the object in his hands, studying Kirk expectantly, then snapped off the cover with his thumb.

Kirk felt a sudden rush of desire nearly overwhelm him as the musky scent contained within the vial hit his senses. Kirk shivered as Pasha poured a long line of the contents down his chest. As the oil flowed down Kirk's stomach, the young man pressed his torso against the captain and rubbed skin-to-skin to share the oil between them.

As the Russian's arms wrapped around Kirk's shoulders, the captain felt another warm trail of scented oil flow along the back of his neck and down his spine. He trembled, feeling one of Pasha's hands caress his back, spreading the oil, rubbing it into his flesh in a gentle massage.

When Pasha brought the tube back to his chest, Kirk grabbed it out of his hands. He gave the Russian a devilish grin, then poured a long line across Pasha's shoulders, then down his back. When the Russian pulled back slightly in a convulsive shiver, the captain poured the remainder of the contents between them, over their growing erections.

Kirk tossed the empty vial aside, then used both hands to rub the seductive potion into his lover's flesh. Over thighs and shins. Down both muscular arms. Across a flushed cheek. Into round buttocks and cleft. Pasha did the same, rubbing his body against the captain, pulling and squeezing Kirk's erection, kissing the older man's throat and shoulders, rubbing the oil into the muscular body.

Soon, their bodies glistened from head to toe with the fragrant oil.

The captain trailed his fingers across an especially well-oiled section of Pasha's body. He grinned up at the Russian as he tracked the oil down over a firm buttock and to the opening to Pasha's body. He slipped a finger inside the tight ring, wriggling it around, probing deeper, until he found the right spot.

Pasha nearly rose up out of Kirk's lap, gasping and writhing over the captain's body.

He worked his finger a number of times against the same sweet spot, eliciting an arousing response each time. Kirk slipped in a second finger and stretched the Russian further.

"More oil--please, Jim?" Pasha croaked, his face contorted, eyes closed tightly. He kept up his slow rhythm against Kirk's groin, sliding their erections together, using one hand to squeeze the hot flesh, building the heat between their bodies.

The captain found another vial that looked exactly like the one Pasha had just plucked from the nightstand. Opening it one-handed, he dribbled enough oil along the Russian's back so that it ran down the cleft and over Kirk's waiting fingers. The captain quickly worked the oil over his fingers, then slipped in a third digit.

"Oh," Pasha moaned softly, then grimaced as if he were in pain. "Oh--!"

"Are you okay?" Kirk whispered, not quite sure what to make of the Russian's painful grimace. "Am I hurting you?"

Pasha opened his eyes. Through passion-fogged eyes, he shook his head, then answered, "No. I'm--I'm still--a little sore."

"I'm sorry."

Pasha wrapped his arms around Kirk's neck, then pulled the captain into a deep kiss. After breaking the kiss, the Russian tracked his lips across Kirk's cheek, and then nibbled on his ear. He sighed softly, then whispered, "Just go slow, okay?"

Kirk ran his free hand down to cup Pasha's buttock, pulling him harder against his erection. "I'll go as slow--as I can," he moaned softly into the Russian's neck. "Just let me know when you're ready."

Kirk pulsed his fingers into the Russian, gently stretching the tight entrance, taking care not to damage fragile flesh in his haste. He smiled when he felt Pasha finally relax in his arms and begin to thrust his hips back to impale himself even deeper.

"Jim--"

Kirk withdrew his fingers and gently rolled Pasha onto his back. He looked down into the Russian's face. Pasha's eyes were closed. He could feel the shivers coursing through the Russian's body growing stronger. So close.

"Jim--"

The name was barely a whisper this time.

Kirk propped his lover's legs up over his shoulders, then rolled Pasha forward. He centered his erection with the entrance to Pasha's body, then popped the head in with a gentle thrust.

The captain paused to let them both adjust for a moment. He then sank further inside, rocking with short thrusts until his full length was embedded deep inside his partner's body.

He stopped, then looked down into his lover's face. "You--okay?"

Pasha met his gaze, and the love and desire that radiated out through those warm, expressive eyes nearly overwhelmed him.

"Yes--is good."

Kirk smiled as he began to undulate in long, powerful thrusts into his lover's body. Primal desires soon took over, strengthening his thrusts until everything in the universe seemed centered into that churning cycle of movement.

Pasha clung to Kirk's broad shoulders, his hips answering the captain's thrusts in the same rhythm. Dimly, Kirk remembered his partner's needs and moved his hand down between their bodies. He began pumping the Russian's cock to the same beat.

He listened to the Russian's soft moans and sobs, smiling to himself as Pasha's shivers became more pronounced. The thrusts became harder, faster, deeper. They moved as one body, both giving and receiving pleasure until the build up to completion was impossible to hold back any longer. Pasha surrendered first, coming in an explosive release against Kirk's abdomen. Strong muscles clenched around Kirk's cock and the captain's body jerked as he, too, surrendered and released hot semen deep inside the Russian.

Kirk collapsed on top of Pasha with a loud moan, pressing his face against the young man's neck. Unable to move, they lay still for a long time, both sets of lungs panting hard, their bodies shivering from exertion. Kirk managed to prop himself up on his elbows, suddenly afraid that he would crush the smaller man beneath him. He pressed gentle kisses along Pasha's throat and neck, licking the beads of sweat from the Russian's flushed skin. He then rested his head back down again, exhausted and content.

After a few moments, Kirk reluctantly pulled out. He rolled onto his side, spooning the Russian's body against him. Kirk enfolded his lover in a tight embrace and nuzzled the soft spot behind the young man's ear. "You're the best birthday wish I could have ever hoped for."

Pasha let out a soft sigh, snuggling back into the captain's embrace.

Kirk held Pasha tightly. He usually wasn't one to cuddle much after lovemaking, but he felt so relaxed and happy that he didn't want this moment to pass too quickly. He listened to Pasha's heartbeat slow back to normal, and felt the steady expansion and contraction of his chest with each soft breath. As he rested, pressing soft kisses along Pasha's pale shoulder, Kirk suddenly thought about his own Ensign Chekov. He chuckled softly to himself. Once he was back aboard the Enterprise, how could he ever look at Pavel Chekov's back again without thinking about kissing him like this--feeling the warmth of his skin--making love to him?

Finally, Kirk leaned over and kissed the Russian gently on the temple. Moving his lips down to Pasha's ear, he whispered, "How about a shower, Love?"

Pasha nodded his head and they both sat up on the bed, arms still entwined loosely around each other.

"Grandfather didn't believe in sonic showers. But I can offer you an old-fashioned shower--with real water." Pasha gave Kirk a shy grin, then added, "If you want, I can help scrub your back."

Kirk laughed as he got out of bed, pulling the Russian up with him. "Real water, you say? And you'll scrub my back? How could I possibly resist an offer like that?"

* * * *

After a long, sensual shower, followed by a hearty, late breakfast, Pasha led Kirk outside to the barn. As they walked, both men hefted saddlebags containing personal gear for the journey ahead that afternoon.

It was Kirk's first opportunity to venture outside of the cottage since arriving the night before, and he marveled at the beautiful scenery of his companion's dacha. The valley was rimmed on three sides by a forest of tall trees. Down the hill, a crystal blue lake was just barely visible between the stand of tall trees. A flat-faced cliff dwarfed the valley to the north, with even higher mountain peaks set behind it. Further to the south, the forest thinned to a large meadow of prairie grasses. Kirk saw movement in the distance, amongst the tall grass of the meadow. Suddenly, an elk bolted out of the underbrush and towards the protective cover of the forest.

"I think you will like riding Grandfather's horse. Misha is a beautiful animal and well trained." Pasha opened the door to the barn, then flipped on the interior lights. After picking up a small burlap sack by the doorway, he motioned for Kirk to follow.

Pasha led them further inside to the first stall. A tall horse--black with white markings--walked around in a circle on the dirt floor. Noticing their entrance, the stallion walked up to the Russian and nuzzled up against the burlap sack Pasha was carrying.

"Not yet, Misha. You don't get all of this."

The Russian pulled out a couple of carrots. However, instead of feeding them to the horse, he handed them to Kirk.

The captain nodded, understanding what Pasha had in mind. As the Russian moved back slightly, Kirk neared the horse slowly, extending a carrot in a 'let's be friends' gesture, clicking his tongue.

Misha sniffed the captain, then accepted the carrot willingly.

Kirk studied the tall horse, admiring the strong muscles and intelligent eyes of the dark stallion. He gently ran his free hand across the horse's neck, all the while talking softly to the tall beast as it made fast work of the carrot.

Assured that the captain was fast making friends with Misha, Pasha moved into the other stall.

Kirk heard the Russian's happy greeting, "Hello, Yuri. Time for a ride."

After a few minutes, the young man led the second horse out into the main stable complex within the barn. Pasha already had a bridle on the chocolate-colored horse. He tied the reins to a post and began to saddle the young stallion.

Taking the Russian's lead, Kirk put a bridle on Misha, who didn't rebel at all under the captain's gentle ministrations. He led the horse into the main complex and saddled the tall horse, checking the straps to make sure everything was secure.

"Here, Jim. Put this on."

The young Russian handed Kirk a small, metal canister that was attached to a looped, retractable cord. The device reminded Kirk of a small penlight.

"What's this?"

"Bear repellent," Pasha answered matter-of-factly, looping a second one around his own neck.

"So--we're expecting company along the way?" Kirk said with a grin, carefully studying the device in his hand.

The Russian shrugged. "Grandfather taught me to be prepared for anything on the trail. We don't normally have bear up where we're heading today, but there's always a first time. And there are other predators up there that could decide to take a bite out of us or the horses."

"How does it work?"

"It operates like a phaser, except it will shock the animal instead of stun it. The last thing we want to do is stun a wild animal, making it vulnerable to all the other predators out there."

"So--it doesn't injure."

The Russian shook his head. "No, the shock isn't strong enough to harm an animal--even something as small as a wolf." Pasha took his own device and aimed it at the window. "Aim it like this, then press down on the release and hold it down." The Russian looked up into Kirk's eyes and grinned, "In most cases, it's enough to scare a bear away, even one that's about to charge."

"Most cases?" Kirk asked suspiciously.

Pasha shrugged. "Da. Most bears are easily startled. They only attack if they think they are threatened. But this might not be enough to scare off a mother bear that feels her young is being threatened."

Kirk felt his eyebrows rise up his forehead. "What should you do then?"

Pasha rechecked the straps on his saddle, then looked up at the captain with a devilish glint in his eyes. "Get the hell out of there--anyway you can."

"But don't run, correct?"

"Da. If you run, she will think you're prey. And then you're as good as lunch."

Nodding his head, Kirk studied the small device, then said, "Okay, I get the picture."

Pasha looked up into the captain's eyes, an inquisitive expression on his face. "Didn't you ever run across bear or any other predators where you grew up?"

Kirk grinned. "In Iowa? No, not unless you count the time one of my uncle's steers decided to try impaling me against the fence with his horns."

He saw the Russian shudder. Kirk laughed as he slid an arm across Pasha's shoulders and gave him a quick squeeze. "Well, you asked!"

"I promise we won't be meeting any mad steers along the way," Pasha said in a reassuring voice. "However, bear can be just as vicious. Just keep the repellent with you at all times, okay?"

Kirk nodded his head as he released the Russian. "Got it." He then looped the corded end around his neck and tucked the device inside his shirt.

Pasha finished securing his saddlebag, then stroked Yuri's neck gently as he talked into the horse's ear. Once all was ready, the two men led their horses out of the barn, mounted the animals, and rode off down the trail.

The Russian led them south through the meadow where Kirk had earlier seen the elk. Pasha pointed out some of the native flora and fauna along the way as they walked their horses through the tall grassland.

The two men talked very little, simply enjoying the sounds of the soft breeze rustling through the valley and keeping watch for wildlife.

At the other end of the meadow, running parallel to the forest's edge, was a large stream. Pasha stopped his horse at the edge of the water and allowed Yuri to dip his head for a drink. Kirk rode up next to his young companion and allowed Misha to take a break as well. Pasha scanned the perimeter of the forest with his eyes as they allowed their horses a short water break before continuing on.

They followed the stream to the east until it took a sharp bend towards the cliffs to the north end of the valley.

Pasha slowed down until Kirk's horse was astride his. He pointed up towards the cliffs with a smile, gave Kirk a sly wink, then took off at a gallop.

The captain laughed at the younger man's silent challenge, and kicked Misha into a gallop to follow.

They raced through the edge of the forest, ducking tree limbs and rocks as the land changed from level ground into a sloping incline towards the mountain face. Kirk marveled at the responsiveness of the powerful stallion below him, which seemed to need only the slightest of touches to read his commands.

The captain soon caught up with Pasha's horse, and they galloped neck and neck along the final stretch. Kirk spied a small, unobtrusive building that was barely visible within a grove of trees near the base of the cliffs. He figured that was the finish line. He prodded Misha ahead, and the dark horse edged in front slightly.

Pasha suddenly shouted something in Russian, then steered Yuri off to the right. Misha followed the other horse without Kirk communicating the change in direction.

They came over a slight rise in the landscape, and Kirk realized the reason for the turn. There was a deep crevasse cut into the rock just over the ridge, to the left of where Pasha was steering them now. Had they taken a straight run towards the building ahead, they would have surely taken a dive right into the widest part of the crevasse.

The two riders steered around the edge of the crevasse and arrived at the building at nearly the same time, laughing and joking about who was the true victor. They removed the saddles from their horses, then led Misha and Yuri down to the stream that ran a few yards behind the small building.

As the horses drank and rested from the hard ride, Kirk and Pasha sat down next to each other on a large, flat rock that jutted out into the stream. They dipped their hands down into the rushing stream, taking a drink and splashing the freezing water onto their faces.

Pasha gave the surrounding area a close scan with his dark eyes, looking for wildlife, Kirk figured. When the Russian looked up into the captain's eyes, he seemed to read Kirk's questioning look.

"Just looking out for bear," he said with a grin. "They usually prefer to stay down by the lake during the summer months. They come up this way only when it's time to return to their dens to hibernate."

Kirk nodded his head, then laid down on the warm rock. The captain rested on his left side, facing his young companion. He silently studied the Russian--Pasha seemingly unaware of the scrutiny as his dark eyes continued to scan the area for predators.

It seemed so natural to sit here with Pasha, just enjoying the young man's company. It was never like this on the Enterprise with his own Ensign Chekov. The difference in rank--ship's captain to lowly ensign--put up natural barriers between them that were difficult to ignore. That, and his navigator's innate need to prove himself worthy, be the perfect officer, and not screw up in front of his superiors, tended to make Pavel Chekov awkward and stressed in his captain's presence. Kirk suddenly appreciated the opportunity to see this side of the young Russian--living in his element, relaxed, self-confident, without the scrutiny of his commanding officer dictating his actions.

~~If only it could be like this back on the ship.~~

Suddenly, Kirk wondered about his own navigator's shore leave. He hoped Pavel Chekov was enjoying his wish as much as Kirk was enjoying his own. He wondered who had joined Ensign Chekov on his shore leave. Kirk guessed he'd never find out. Even if he ventured to ask, Kirk would then be expected to reveal his own partner. McCoy would never let him hear the end of it if he somehow got his young navigator to reveal with whom he spent his shore leave. Considering how he had come to Chekov's defense in the lounge on Jaeren's Planet the previous evening, Kirk realized he could never ask the Russian to share his secret.

~~Man--if Chekov only knew!~~

He wondered to himself how Pavel Chekov would react if he ever learned his captain had chosen him for his birthday wish--if he ever found out what he and Pasha had done together at the dacha. The young ensign would probably be even more awkward, more self-conscious in Kirk's presence if he knew the captain was physically attracted to him--wanted him--dreamed about him.

There would be no way Chekov could function on the Enterprise under those circumstances. Ensign Chekov was an outstanding officer and navigator. Would that be fair to him?

Of course, the ramifications for Kirk would be much worse. As much as he was attracted to the young Russian, Kirk could never carry this into his life aboard ship. He couldn't risk the captaincy on a mere romp in the sack with his navigator--no matter how good the sex was.

Kirk sighed to himself, his heart suddenly feeling heavy with sadness. No, he could never go there. The boundaries were set. Once back on the ship, this sort of relationship was off limits. Kirk would have to hide behind his mask once again. He'd have to enjoy this shore leave in the here and now, since it would never happen again.

He reached up and touched the Russian's arm. Pasha's dark eyes looked down into his and gave a shy grin. As if reading Kirk's thoughts, the young man laid down on the warm rock next to him. They wrapped their arms and legs around each other, kissing and groping under clothes damp with sweat until they started to giggle like a couple of sex-starved teenagers.

Kirk silenced their laughter with a deep kiss. He just couldn't get enough of the Russian's warm, welcome lips, and his deep, inviting mouth. "I love being here with you, holding you like this--" Kirk murmured in the Russian's ear after they came up for air. "You know that, don't you?"

Pasha nodded his head as he planted soft kisses down Kirk's throat, ending at the soft hollow just above the sternum. Kirk pulled the young man on top of him and wrapped his arms around the slight body. They laid silently together, Pasha's head cushioned on Kirk's chest, right above his heart.

The warmth of the sun, and the sound of the water rushing past the refuge of their rock, all conspired to lull the two men almost asleep.

Kirk roused first with a jerk of his head.

"I suppose we better keep going if we want to get back to the dacha by dinner time."

"Yes, you're right."

Pasha rolled off of Kirk, then hoisted himself into a standing position on the rock. He then reached down to help Kirk up next to him.

As they moved to retrieve the horses, Kirk looked up to the expanse of the cliffs above them.

"Have you ever climbed up to the top?"

Pasha raised his eyes to where Kirk was pointing, then blushed as if embarrassed.

"I've tried a few times, but I've never made it to the summit."

"Want to give it another try?"

Pasha looked up again, his eyes squinting. Kirk noted the fear in the Russian's body language.

"I--I don't know, Jim. If you want to go up, I will try."

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing. It's just--the last time I tried to climb it, I was seriously injured. They had to airlift me out of here. I got into some really deep shit with my parents over it--so did Grandfather. I was hospitalized for a long time. My parents made Grandfather promise he'd never allow me to try climbing it again." Pasha looked over at Kirk, his dark eyes suddenly wide with trepidation.

"Let me guide you," Kirk offered. "I have a lot of climbing experience. I know that together we can do it."

Pasha stared up at the cliffs, his voice shaking a little as he explained, "Even after Grandfather made that promise, he would tell me in secret to never give up--that I'd do it someday."

Pasha glanced at the captain, then away, suddenly losing most of his self-confidence. At that moment, he reminded Kirk of the Pavel Chekov that he knew from the Enterprise.

"I--I don't know if I'm ready."

"There's only one way to find out if you're ready. Do you have any climbing equipment here?"

Pasha nodded his head. "In the storage shed." He looked up at the top of the cliffs, the uncertainty apparent in his eyes.

Kirk stood next to his partner and looked up at the summit again. He then draped an arm across the Russian's shoulders. "You're ready. You just don't give yourself enough credit." Kirk turned and pulled the young man close, looking down into his eyes. "I'll be there every step of the way. I won't let you fall, I promise."

Pasha met his gaze, and Kirk watched the fear that he saw reflected in those dark eyes slowly turn into trust.

Kirk felt flushed at the belief that he sensed emanating out of the young Russian to his confident words. He bent down and pulled Pasha into a passionate kiss. At this moment, there was nothing that he wanted more than to see his companion achieve this single goal--to mentor and coach him every step of the way. It was the same reason why he pushed his young navigator on the Enterprise so hard sometimes. It was because he knew that Pavel Chekov only needed more self-confidence, in addition to experience, to become the great starship captain he was certain Chekov would be someday.

He steered the Russian to the entrance of the storage shed, his arm hooked around the young man's waist. Once inside, Pasha worked to unseal one of the storage lockers while Kirk took a quick glance around the small room. It seemed Pasha's grandfather had outfitted the shed with nearly everything a person would need for camping in the woods. In amongst the cooking equipment, which was stacked on a shelf along one wall, were two sealed lockers--one marked TENT, and the other marked FOOD.

He heard a soft whoosh of air behind him and turned to see Pasha opening the door to a sealed locker. Kirk moved back to the Russian and helped him pull out the ropes, harnesses, water bottles, food bars, and other gear that they'd need for their ascent up the cliffs.

The Russian pulled out a pair of lightweight climbing shoes, then looked up at Kirk. "I have an old pair of climbing shoes to wear, but I think I have smaller feet than you do, Jim. I don't have anything for you to wear."

Kirk smiled. "Don't worry about it, Pasha. I came prepared. I brought a pair with. They're in my saddlebag." When the Russian blinked, Kirk shrugged his shoulders. "I had hoped we would get a chance to do some rock climbing. However, I never dreamed we'd have an opportunity to climb something like this. It'll be a fun challenge."

Once outside, Kirk tied one end of a lead rope to Pasha's climbing harness. He pulled it with a quick snap to test if it would hold. Satisfied, he measured out a length of rope, then tied the other end to his own harness and tested it as well.

He looked down at his companion, and felt a smile form over his lips. "You see, Pasha. If you fall--I fall. So don't fall, okay?"

Pasha looked up at him, his dark eyes wide with fear.

Suddenly regretting his attempt at levity, he pulled the young man into an affectionate hug. "I'm sorry. I was only teasing. Tethering us together is a safety precaution. I'll be tied onto the anchors that I set along the way up. This way, if you happen to slip, I can catch you." He lowered his head and kissed his companion deeply, then nuzzled along Pasha's ear. "I promised I wouldn't let you fall. I won't let you be hurt. I promise."

Pasha looked up at him with a wan smile. Kirk could tell he was trying very hard to put on a brave face despite his fear. He could feel the young man tremble under his touch. Kirk cupped Pasha's face between his hands as he pressed his forehead against the Russian's forehead. "Come on. Let's get started. Just follow me. You can do this, love. I know you can."

With Kirk leading the way, the two men started their ascent up the cliff face. Kirk carefully placed each anchor then looped his rope along the path up the steep slope. He was mindful to make sure the positions of the footholds were all within easy reach of the shorter Russian.

Every once in awhile, he looked down to check on his companion's progress up the slope. Pasha was doing an excellent job of keeping up with the more experienced climber. Although Kirk could still detect fear in the Russian's dark eyes, he was heartened to see the sheer determination in the young man's steady movements.

Once they were halfway up the cliff face, Kirk started to set a slower pace as he realized the Russian would stubbornly continue on to the point of near exhaustion in order to keep up. After Pasha stumbled a second time and nearly lost his foothold, Kirk called for a rest. After that, he allowed time for a short rest and a gulp of water at regular intervals, making sure that the less experienced climber was ready to continue before setting the next anchor.

At last, Kirk reached the top of the cliff. With a loud grunt, he hoisted himself over the edge, then looked down at the Russian with a smile. "Almost there, Pasha. Come on! You can do it!"

The Russian's face was set, determination in his eyes, as he scaled the final distance up the slope. He paused at the edge, looking at Kirk with an expression of both exhilaration and near exhaustion. Kirk reached out his hands, and Pasha nodded gratefully, allowing the captain to help pull him over the edge and onto the summit.

Kirk moved Pasha away from the edge and sat him down on a large, flat rock for a rest. The Russian's legs seemed to be shaking badly--perhaps from adrenaline, Kirk thought, or maybe from fatigue and stress. He sat down behind his companion, straddling his legs on either side of the Russian's hips. He then pulled the slight body back to rest fully against him in a warm bear hug.

"I'm okay," Pasha finally gasped, "--Though I've never been so frightened in all my life."

"But we made it, love," Kirk said, kissing the Russian on the temple. "You see. I told you I wouldn't let you fall."

"I never would have made it without your help, Jim."

Kirk unhooked the other end of the lead rope from Pasha's harness, then hugged the young man tightly. "I can't take all the credit, Pasha. I just helped show you the way. You did the rest yourself." He unzipped his pack and pulled out two food bars. "Here. I think we need a little energy boost before we take a look around."

Pasha gratefully accepted one of the bars and they ate in silence.

* * * *

After a short rest, the two men got to their feet and started exploring the flat, rocky summit. The view from this perspective was breathtaking, to say the least--with a view of the entire valley and the territory beyond the forest.

Pasha pointed to a small clearing in the neighboring forest, northwest of the cliffs. Kirk could barely make out a building nestled within the trees.

"My grandfather's friends, Mikhail and Tatiana Stoshtovich, live in that valley. I board Misha and Yuri with them."

They admired the view in silence, taking in the taller mountains to the northeast of their perch, and the valley to the northwest.

The young man moved to the southern edge of the summit and looked over the valley containing his dacha. He studied the landscape with serious eyes, taking it all in as if burning it into his memory for all eternity.

Kirk came and stood behind Pasha, placing his hands on his lover's shoulders. "What are the boundaries of your property?"

The Russian pointed off to the east. "See where the forest ends in the distance? That's where my property ends and the logging company's property begins. They log in that area, planting new trees in their place as they move through their part of the forest." He then shifted his gaze. "To the south--my property includes the meadow and extends to the end of the forest. The same logging company owns the land beyond." Pasha then pointed to the west. "And to the west, my boundary extends to the lake. I have a controlling interest in the lake itself. Mikhail and Tatiana have a minority interest. We do not allow motorized boats of any kind on the lake--it's protected on behalf of the State for the wildlife."

"You allow canoes?"

"Of course."

Kirk took it all in. He would have never in his wildest dreams thought the young, unassuming Russian owned this amount of land.

"I'm impressed. You are a rich man indeed, Pasha."

The Russian looked away, as if embarrassed by the statement. After a long pause, he finally whispered in a husky voice, "I guess you could say that, Jim. But I would gladly give it all away if it meant Grandfather was still here."

Kirk impulsively draped his arm around Pasha's waist and gave the young man a tight squeeze. "I know you would. Your grandfather must have loved you very much to leave all of this to you."

The Russian didn't answer, just nodded his head.

Kirk looked out over the valley, then let out a deep sigh. He needed to somehow pull his young companion out of his sad reverie. "Come on. Let's continue to explore, shall we?"

Pasha nodded his head and let Kirk lead him away from the southern edge of the cliffs. The summit itself was surprisingly flat, with a few outcroppings of rock that seemed to have served in the past as nesting places for some sort of large bird.

Kirk was examining one of the nesting sites, mindful not to touch anything and leave his scent behind, when he noticed a small metal box wedged in tightly between three large, flat rocks.

"Hey, I've found something."

With Pasha's help, Kirk pried the box out and set it on top of one of the rocks.

The young Russian gasped as he read the Cyrillic lettering that was etched along the top. He ran his fingertips over the letters. "It has my name on it." Trembling fingers worked the lock and opened the box.

Kirk watched the Russian pull out a letter that was sealed within a weatherproof pouch. It was addressed with the same lettering that was etched on the outside of the box.

Pasha squinted his eyes into a frown, as if trying to block any emotions from forming on his face. Without looking up, Pasha whispered, "It's from Grandfather." He read the letter in silence, then carefully placed the letter back inside the pouch. The young man then pulled out a small box. He worked the seal until it opened with a slight pop. Inside was a small, velvet pouch containing an antique compass.

The captain remained silent the entire time, feeling the ache in his heart grow in sympathy for his young friend. He suddenly recalled the loss of his own brother, Sam. It almost seemed like yesterday. The pain was still fresh, and he ached for his loss as well as Pasha's.

"Would you rather be alone?" Kirk finally whispered, uncertain whether his intrusion into such a personal moment was welcome or not. Certainly his own Ensign Chekov would feel extremely embarrassed under these circumstances. His young navigator seemed to think he needed to have the emotions of a Vulcan in front of his captain.

Pasha finally shook his head, then looked up at him. Grief still haunted his dark eyes, but he managed to shrug and give Kirk a wan grin. "Actually, I--I am glad you are here. It makes it easier--to not be alone."

Kirk nodded his in understanding, and placed a hand on the Russian's arm. "Your grandfather must have known you would eventually make it to the summit. That's why he didn't want you to give up--in spite of your accident and what your parents said."

"Yes. He knew my parents were overprotective. Mother lost the baby--my younger brother--before he was born. After that, she couldn't have any more children." Pasha sighed softly. "I had called the baby Piotr, even before he was born. I was six, and would sing lullabies to him as he grew in my mother's womb." A pained expression passed over his features. "I was devastated when he died, after the accident. After that, my parents made sure I wouldn't take any unnecessary risks. That's why they were so against me trying to climb the cliffs. They were afraid they'd lose me as well."

"But that wasn't how your grandfather saw it, right?"

Pasha shook his head. "I used to count the days until summer arrived and I could come here to the dacha. Grandfather knew how important it was for me to come here, to not have my parents hover over me all the time." He looked up suddenly, a blush forming over his cheeks. "Don't get me wrong. I love my parents a lot. It's just--"

"I understand, Pasha."

The Russian looked closely at the old compass. He then looked up into Kirk's eyes and handed it to him. "This was Grandfather's," Pasha explained as his fingers caressed the smooth metal of the antique compass. "He was the one who taught me how to chart the stars. On a clear night, we'd set up his telescope at the base of the cliffs and stay up half the night studying the constellations."

Kirk studied the compass. The top of the case was etched with an intricate design, with a star pattern in the background. Parts of the design were nearly rubbed smooth, as if the compass itself was well used and well loved.

"Grandfather said the compass was a gift from his own father, my great-grandfather. He carried it everywhere he went. He said it often helped him to remember where he came from--and where he wanted to go on his journey."

"Your grandfather must have been an incredible man," Kirk said, his voice gruff.

"He was. I just wish he could be here--even for just an hour. I never had a chance to say good bye to him before he died. He said he wasn't feeling well when I visited that last summer, but he didn't tell me how sick he was."

"Are you angry with him for not telling you?"

Pasha shook his head. "No, I think he wanted to make sure I enjoyed my last visit with him." The young Russian looked up at Kirk, a wistful smile forming on his face, "And I think he didn't want me to hover and be overprotective of him. We had a wonderful time together--the best ever. But I still miss him."

"I wish he were here, too, Pasha. It would have been a great honor to meet him." Kirk pulled his young companion close and kissed him softly on the lips. He continued planting kisses along the Russian's cheek and over each closed eyelid.

Kirk lifted the slight body up onto his lap and the Russian melted into his embrace. Pasha let out a shaky breath, burrowing his face against Kirk's shoulder. The captain held him close, rubbing his back and talking to him softly.

It was a long time before either of them spoke. Kirk felt the young man gradually relax in his arms. He kissed Pasha tenderly on the temple, deciding it was time. He hated to say it, but from experience he knew it needed saying. "I suppose we should start making our way down while we still have good light."

Pasha nodded his head reluctantly, then pulled away.

Kirk helped the young man up onto his feet. He made sure the letter and the compass were secured in the metal box, then tied its handle to his pack.

He retied the rope to Pasha's climbing harness, checked it, and then measured out another length of rope. Going down was, in some ways, more of a challenge than going up, since it meant feeling your way more by your toes rather than seeing your way with your fingers. He connected the other end of the rope to his own harness.

After a few quick instructions to Pasha, Kirk started his descent. This time, he took the bottom point, leading the way down the steep slope.

They used the same footholds that Kirk applied on their ascent, with the captain setting a slow but steady pace for the younger climber. Kirk was relieved to see that Pasha seemed to have much more confidence on his descent.

Halfway down the slope, Kirk narrowed his focus on the next foothold below him, feeling his impatience growing. He wasn't sure why he felt the sudden need to rush down to the bottom, but he could feel it in every fiber of his body. The further along they went, the worse it became. He consciously reminded himself to slow down, and then promptly forgot when it came time to find the next toehold.

As he slid his body down to the next anchor, Kirk's groin inadvertently rubbed hard along the unyielding rock face. Finding his foothold, he tied himself off, then allowed a delayed moan to escape his lips. He shivered, then reached down to give his cock a slight squeeze and a rub, feeling the hard flesh still responding to the rough massage of the rock. ~~Later~~ Kirk promised to himself, closing his eyes and visualizing Pasha's naked body beneath him.

Before taking another reach downwards to the next toehold, Kirk squinted up to check on his lover's progress. He sighed, noticing that the rope that tethered them together was stretched to nearly the maximum length. Kirk let out another length of rope, lengthening the tether between them, then took another step down.

"Jim! Slow down! Please!"

Kirk tied himself onto the next anchor, then looked up. He could see the fear in Pasha's eyes as he scanned the rock face for the next anchor.

The captain suddenly realized it hadn't been the first time he had expanded the length of the lifeline between them, but perhaps the fourth or fifth time.

Kirk gazed up again, judging the distance between them. He estimated that Pasha was a good 80 meters above him. For safety's sake, Kirk should have never allowed him to get more than 40 meters behind. It was damned sloppy, and Kirk swore at himself for his impatience.

"I'm sorry, Pasha," Kirk shouted up at the young man. He noticed a flash of anger under the dark eyes, but then the fear returned.

"Just--just stay there and wait for me, okay?" The Russian's voice was shaking, with anger or fear, Kirk wasn't sure.

"I'm not going anywhere, love. I'll wait." He watched the young man find the next toehold, then tie himself onto the anchor. Pasha seemed to hang onto the anchor, unmoving, for a long time and Kirk started to feel his impatience slowly return. Well, he decided he could be doing something while waiting for Pasha, so he looked down to scout around for his next foothold.

The sudden sound of rocks falling down the side of the cliff made Kirk twist his head up. With a loud gasp of alarm, Kirk hugged the rock wall in front of him, hooking his arm up over his head to shield against the torrent of pebbles that suddenly rained down on him.

When the deluge stopped, Kirk looked back up. The young Russian was looking down at him, eyes wide with worry.

"I'm okay. Don't worry," Kirk shouted up. He smiled reassuringly at Pasha. "Give it another try. Just take your time and find the right foothold."

Kirk could see fear in Pasha's dark eyes as the young man surveyed the steep slope beneath him, searching for a safe foothold. He apparently made a decision, as he reached out to his left and caught his hand on a hold. He eased himself down, putting his weight on his left foot.

Without warning, the foothold crumbled beneath him.

For a long, breathless moment, Kirk watched Pasha dangle by his handholds as he scrambled for solid footing on the steep rock face. Finally, the Russian's feet settled on a marginal hold. He held on for dear life, clinging to his precarious perch like a drowning man to a life preserver.

Kirk took a quick assessment of the situation. Pasha had already unhooked his line from the anchor above his head before he slipped. The only line that was holding him at the moment was the tether between him and Kirk.

He could hear the young man's frightened gasps directly above him. His heart ached, wondering how he could coach Pasha down from this predicament. The tether between Pasha and Kirk was designed to only break their fall--to keep them from plunging to their deaths. But Kirk had allowed Pasha to get 80 meters above him, where the tether was tied off on the anchor at the captain's head. Falling that distance, plus the length of the tether, wouldn't kill the young man but could seriously injure him.

He couldn't let Pasha fall. That was all there was to it. Kirk quickly made a decision, and reached to the anchor above his head.

"Hold on, Pasha. Stay put. I'm coming up."

He left the tether to Pasha in place, tied to the anchor above Kirk's head. The captain then used his spare rope to tie himself to the next anchor, then reached for the next, and then the next. As he neared his young companion, Kirk began setting new anchors, angling them more to the right of his previous path.

It seemed to take forever, but finally Kirk had climbed up to a position that was nearly parallel to the right of the young Russian. Without wasting any time, Kirk placed a new anchor between them, then looped a rope and secured it. He moved over to the new anchor, then set another one even closer to his young companion.

He was nearly within arm's reach when he spoke again to Pasha, this time in a gentle whisper, "Okay, love. Take a deep breath and relax. I'm here. You're doing fine."

The young Russian nodded slightly, not chancing to turn his head to glance towards the captain. Kirk saw him breathe in and out in slow, steady breaths.

"Good. Just hold on a little longer. I'm not going to let you fall. Okay?"

Again, the young man nodded his head.

Kirk set one more anchor, this one even closer to Pasha. He looped the rope through the hold, then tied himself off and reached his body over to the new foothold so he was hanging right next to his young companion.

To his credit, Pasha didn't reach out for him, although his breathing was once again rapid and frightened, attesting to the terror that he was experiencing.

Once Kirk had looped the rope to the final anchor and secured it, he turned again to his young companion. He was so tempted to reach out and touch Pasha's shoulder, just to reassure him, but he was afraid any movement might cause the young man to lose his hold on the rock face. Instead, he whispered gently, "Pasha, listen carefully."

"Yes, Jim. I'm--I'm listening," Pasha stammered.

"I'm going to attach a second tether to your harness. It's just a backup. I have it secured to the anchor over here. If you slip once I have it attached, you'll only fall a short way. You'll be safe."

Pasha nodded his head silently.

"Good. Now just hold on. I'm going to do this very slowly so I don't tug you off, okay?"

"Okay," the young Russian whispered, his voice barely audible.

Kirk reached out with the end of the rope and gingerly snaked it left-handed through one of the metal hooks on Pasha's climbing harness. Granted, it wasn't the best angle--attaching the tether to the right side instead of the center--but he wasn't about to ask the Russian to lean back to give him access to the center hooks. It would have to do. And, with any luck, they wouldn't have to test it. He slowly pulled the end of the rope through, careful that he didn't tug even in the slightest way and pull Pasha off of his unstable foothold.

Once Kirk made sure the tether was secure, he placed a gentle hand on the Russian's shoulder. "Look at me, Pasha."

The young man took in a shaky breath, then slowly turned his head to the right. Kirk could easily read the fear and fatigue in his companion's face, and he squeezed Pasha's shoulder to reassure him.

"You're tied to the new tether, Pasha. Wait until I get off, and then you can follow over to this foothold. After that, we'll be home free."

The Russian nodded his head, then closed his eyes and rested his cheek against the rock wall. Deep furrows were etched across his forehead and the captain could see the shimmer of cold sweat that beaded on the young man's face. Kirk squeezed Pasha's shoulder again, then murmured, "You can do this--I know you can. Just one little step, and then you can rest."

Pasha nodded slightly as he opened his eyes again. Wide eyes looked down and studied where Kirk had placed his footholds, and how the captain deftly crawled back to the next handhold.

Pasha closed his eyes for a long moment. Kirk held his breath, suddenly frightened that his young companion no longer had the physical strength to make the switch to the next handhold. Then Pasha opened his eyes and took a couple of deep, steadying breaths. He centered his entire attention on the foothold next to him. Slowly, he reached out, testing that his present perch would hold until he could make it to the next anchor. Kirk saw sweat trickle down the sides of the young man's face. Pasha's hand reached out and grabbed the rope that was tethered to the next anchor and hung on. His legs shaking with a burst of adrenalin, he pulled himself over to the safety of the new foothold. Once achieving his goal, he wrapped his hands around the rope and held on, letting out a loud sigh of relief.

Kirk studied the young man's ashen face, his trembling legs. They'd rest here for awhile before continuing. He secured the other end of his own tether to the center hook on Pasha's climbing harness, then detached the old one, letting the useless line fall. Once Kirk was certain that both he and his companion were securely anchored to the rock face, he reached out his left hand and rubbed Pasha's tense shoulder and neck.

"I--I asked you to slow down, Jim."

Kirk could hear the anger in the young man's voice, and he didn't blame him. He let out a deep sigh, then murmured, "I know. I'm sorry."

"Shit!" Pasha started to shiver. He pressed his forehead against the cold rock face.

"I'm sorry, love. I made a big mistake. I'm sorry I rushed you."

Kirk was close enough to the young Russian to wrap an arm across Pasha's waist. He rested his forehead against his lover's right shoulder, wishing he could kiss the anger and fear away. "I'm so sorry, love. I'm sorry."

The Russian was silent for a long moment, still resting his forehead against the rock wall, his breathing slowing to a more regular rhythm. Finally, in a very quiet voice, Pasha hissed, "Dammit! Don't ever do that to me again!"

Kirk felt him shudder again, and he rubbed his fingertips into Pasha's lower back.

"It won't happen again, I promise. I'm just glad you kept your wits about you, despite my sloppiness." It was the captain's turn to shiver. "God, I could have hurt you!" Kirk rubbed his fingers into the Russian's tense muscles, trying to calm the young man.

He felt Pasha move slightly under his hand and Kirk raised his head from the Russian's shoulder. He found himself staring into his lover's jet-black eyes.

The dark eyes held his gaze for a long moment, deadly serious as they studied Kirk's face. Then he saw a hint of a smile form across Pasha's lips.

Kirk reached over as far as his tether allowed and pulled the Russian into a kiss. It took awhile, but he felt Pasha finally relax under his touch, allowing him to deepen the kiss.

Kirk felt his body beginning to respond and suddenly remembered that allowing himself to obsess about sex was what had gotten them into trouble in the first place. He reluctantly broke the kiss and grinned. "Later."

He unhooked Pasha's water bottle from his harness and handed it to the young man. "Here, I think you need a little pick me up before we continue. We'll rest as long as you need to, okay?"

Pasha nodded his head and gratefully accepted the water bottle without comment. They hung there on the side of the cliff for a long time--Kirk continuing to rub his fingers in calming circles along Pasha's shoulder and back, talking to him softly.

Finally, Pasha indicated that he was ready to continue. Kirk gave the young man's shoulder a quick squeeze, then carefully started down the way he came. The young Russian followed right after each foothold, apparently deciding to keep close to Kirk for the rest of the way down.

They finally reached the bottom just as the late afternoon sun was starting to throw the cliff's face in dull shadow. Not a moment too soon.

As soon as he made it to the ground, Kirk unhooked the rope from his harness and stepped aside. He was about to look up and check on Pasha's progress when he heard a blood-curdling scream from above.

Before he could react, Kirk felt a hard shoulder make contact with his upper back, knocking the wind out of him. The next thing he knew, he was pinned on his stomach, strong arms encircling his waist from behind.

~~So--you want to play rough, do you?~~

The captain jabbed his elbow back, connecting with his attacker's midsection, forcing Pasha away. The hands gripped Kirk's climbing harness and jerked his body like a rag doll to his left side.

Kirk countered with a kick backwards. When he missed, the captain managed to hook his knee around the other man's leg and pull, sending his attacker sprawling to the ground next to him.

Out of the corner of his eye, Kirk saw Pasha roll onto his knees before the captain could grab hold of him. The Russian gripped Kirk's climbing harness and pushed him down on his back, falling on top of the larger man's body in the process. They wrestled wildly for a few seconds, tumbling over and over, throwing pebbles and dust and loose brush in their wake, before the smaller man was astride the captain's torso.

Dark eyes met hazel ones as Pasha pinned Kirk's body beneath him. The captain stopped struggling, breathing heavily. He had Pasha exactly where he wanted him.

Or maybe it was the other way around.

For a moment, he saw a whirlpool of emotions swirl within those dark, expressive eyes--anger, relief, lust.

Kirk felt Pasha's hands move up to cup his face. Then the Russian leaned down and captured his mouth in a deep kiss.

He wrapped his fingers around the back of Pasha's climbing harness, jerking the slight body hard against him. Deepening the kiss, he moved his hands downward. One hand cupped a firm buttock, while the other gripped a section of climbing harness that looped around Pasha's hip and under his crotch.

The Russian pulled back slightly, allowing his fingers room to move down the captain's chest and unbutton the sweat-soaked shirt all the way down. He kept eye contact with Kirk as his fingertips teased a nipple until it responded to his touch.

"You hev been very bad boy, sair," Pasha hissed, his accent more pronounced than usual. "There is penalty for being bad boy." His fingers wandered further south, unfastening Kirk's fly with a quick jerk.

"What's--," Kirk began, then paused as urgent fingers found his erection beneath the fabric and squeezed. He bit back a moan, then gasped as Pasha clutched him again. Finding his voice at last, the captain stammered, "Wha--what's--the penalty?"

Pasha just smiled down at him, a sly, wicked smile that held secrets Kirk was more than willing to discover. Relishing the thought of allowing his partner to take the aggressor role this time, the captain laid back and waited for the next step.

He felt expert hands unbuckle the lower part of his climbing harness and pull the black leather straps aside. The hands then peeled off his boots, slacks, and briefs. Only his opened shirt and the upper portion of his climbing harness remained.

Kirk tried to unfasten Pasha's fly, but the Russian brushed his hand aside with a growl. The captain moaned low in his throat as his partner's lips found a responsive nipple and lingered there awhile. With his main idea thwarted, Kirk moved to Plan B, brushing his fingertips through Pasha's soft hair. With the other hand, he unbuttoned the top three buttons of the Russian's shirt, then slid his hand inside to the warm flesh beneath the fabric.

Pasha continued grazing his way down Kirk's torso. Along ribs heaving with rapid breathing. Sucking gently around his belly button. Licking the crease of his abdomen to the coppery patch of hair below.

The captain gasped as a warm, soft mouth captured his cock. The lips began pulling incessantly on the head, sucking hard while urgent fingers worked the shaft. He arched his back and Pasha looked up at him, a devilish expression flashing in his brown eyes as he slid his mouth along the length of the penis. The young Russian moved his mouth lower, encircling the base in one, slow swirl of his tongue. Kirk felt warm fingers caress and then squeeze his balls.

The mouth released his erection and Kirk moaned softly, his body throbbing with need. He was in mid-groan when the young man changed strategies, this time blowing lightly against his inner thigh.

Unable to contain himself any longer, Kirk released a loud moan, shivering uncontrollably under Pasha's seductive touch. He felt goosebumps rush up and down his entire torso, and he moaned again, brushing his hands urgently through the young man's soft hair.

"Pasha--"

The captain sat up, gripping his lover's climbing harness, pulling the slight body up against him. He slid the unresisting body into his lap, positioning the Russian's legs to straddle his hips.

Kirk grinned up at his lover as the young man's arms wrapped around his neck. Strong hands clutched either side of his face as the Russian stared down into his eyes. Those black eyes. Kirk shivered, losing himself in the depths of those eyes.

Their gaze locked for a long moment. It was as if time stood still, and they were the only beings in the universe at that precise moment. Then something moved within those dark eyes, and Kirk watched submissively as the Russian bent down and captured his mouth in a whisper-light kiss. The captain responded, but allowed the younger man to take the lead in deepening the kiss, exploring the inside of his mouth, feeling the heat build between them.

Running his fingers down to the front of Pasha's waist, the captain unhooked his partner's harness and slid it off the slight body. As they continued to kiss, Kirk's hands moved down to unfasten the young man's fly. He ran one hand inside. Finding his target, he squeezed and fondled the hot flesh before releasing his lover's erection from within the tight garment. He began stroking the hardening shaft, feeling his young lover respond above him.

Pasha broke their kiss with a deep moan, shivering in response to Kirk's ministrations. The Russian guided the captain's hands in undressing him, removing the sweat-damp shirt first, then the rest of his garments.

Kirk allowed Pasha to gently press him back down on his back. He felt his body shiver with anticipation as Pasha kissed him lightly over his forehead, along his temple, and down his cheek. Kirk answered with his own gentle caresses, barely touching the young man's skin with his fingertips, but causing his lover to tremble with each feather-light stroke down his back, along the inside of one thigh, over a firm buttock.

Kirk hooked his legs around the Russian's waist, spreading himself beneath the lithe body. Inviting but not dominating.

He watched Pasha flick a bead of pre-cum from his own erection. The captain jerked slightly as he felt a finger tickle the entrance to his body. Kirk thrust his hips away from it, teasing his lover to advance further. Pasha chuckled as his fingertip ventured into place again and gently pressed inside the tight ring. The finger tickled again, probing much deeper this time. Finding the captain's prostate, the finger tickled the sweet spot and Kirk thrashed, panting beneath the Russian. He felt the introduction of a second finger. It felt too tight, and he thrust back again. But this just spurred his young lover on.

Pasha worked the two fingers around, relaxing protesting muscles until they allowed him deeper and deeper access. Once the third finger was inserted, Kirk could barely control himself from ordering he be put out of his misery once and for all.

"Are you a very bad boy, Jim?"

Kirk looked up into the mischievous eyes and nodded his head emphatically. "Yes--yes, I am."

The Russian chuckled, then Kirk felt the fingers withdraw from within him. His body throbbed with desire, shivering with anticipation for the next step. He didn't have to wait long, as he suddenly felt something hard and unyielding press against his anus.

He felt his body rocked forward, pulling his hips up a little more, as the Russian positioned Kirk's body beneath him.

Kirk's flesh burned with desire, feeling the Russian's cock in place but going no further. Waiting, but waiting for what? Kirk thrashed his hips up against Pasha, impatience and need taking over.

"Shhhh," his young lover hushed, stilling Kirk's hips beneath him with strong hands when the captain would have pulled Pasha's erection inside if given the chance. "All bad boys must learn patience."

Kirk felt his lover withdraw from the opening to his body, and he shivered violently.

"God dammit! I can't--!"

Pasha's mouth found Kirk's, and all protests ceased as the Russian pressed his lips against his in a deep, probing kiss. The fingers returned to pulse inside him, and Kirk thrust his hips up against them, impaling himself even deeper. He groaned loudly, thrashing against the fingers for some kind of relief. The fingers gently pulled out, and he felt the entrance to his body throb with unanswered desire.

"Pasha--"

"Patience, Jim. Patience--"

He felt the Russian's body press down on top of him, his lover's cock hard against the opening. A hand guided his own fingertips over the shaft, feeling its slippery hardness against his skin, feeling it throb with a desire that matched his own. Kirk helped guide Pasha's cock inside him, allowing the hard flesh to enter in one, smooth thrust. What was impossibly large at first seemed to fit perfectly upon retrospect, and Kirk made a tentative thrust upwards with his hips to feel the sweet friction begin inside him.

Pasha started to rock in slow, full thrusts on top of Kirk's body, pressing the captain's thighs back as far as his legs would allow. The Russian took full advantage of Kirk's climbing harness, gripping the leather with both hands to balance himself and leverage his thrusts into the captain's body. Kirk was lost in the sensation, feeling each thrust filling his whole being, convulsing with pleasure as Pasha's cock contacted his prostate with each lunge.

Kirk moved his hands down to cup the young man's ass, pulling him closer with each thrust. He looked up into Pasha's face, so close now that he could feel the other's hot breath against his cheek. His lover's eyes were closed, moaning softly in Russian.

"Pasha--," he whispered, barely breathing the name.

The Russian opened his eyes, grinning through passion-fogged eyes. Pasha reached down to kiss him tenderly on the lips, then his hand grasped Kirk's cock and began pumping it to the same rhythm. The thrusts came faster and deeper, and each time Kirk was nearly over the edge, Pasha clamped down on the captain's cock to keep him from coming too soon. This was far too good to rush, he realized, although he couldn't help himself from answering each delay with a low, hoarse groan.

Kirk could hear the soft moans of his lover become more breathless, calling out sometimes in Russian, sometimes in Standard, as the young man's climax neared its pinnacle. Kirk arched his back as he shuddered with the build up to his own surrender. He couldn't think anymore. All that was real was the intense pleasure inside of him, and the capable hand working his cock.

Finally unable to hold back any longer, Kirk's body surrendered in an explosion of semen against his lover's abdomen.

As Kirk's muscles clenched in climax, Pasha arched his back with a loud groan as he came as well. The young man collapsed limply on top of Kirk's sated body, heart racing, gasping for breath.

They lay together in an exhausted, contented heap at the foot of the cliffs for a long time, unwilling to move and end the moment.

* * * *

Once they both recovered, the two men gathered their clothes and climbing gear and walked bare-naked to the storage shed. Pasha pulled out some fresh towels and liquid soap from one of the sealed lockers. They then stood outside, taking turns dousing each other with the water hose, scrubbing the grime, sweat, and semen off, touching and kissing and teasing each other as they went.

Once they were reasonably clean, they pulled on their clothes and began checking over their climbing equipment. They made quick work of stowing the gear back inside the sealed lockers within the storage shed.

As Pasha fingered his Grandfather's metal box, deep in thought, Kirk stared at the locker marked TENT.

"Hey, I have an idea."

"Yes?"

"Why don't we camp out tonight. It looks like it'll be a clear night. I haven't been camping in ages, and we have everything we need right here."

Pasha looked up with a broad grin, nodding his head.

They quickly got to work, pulling out the camping gear, hauling the tent outside and picking a good site to make camp for the night. Pasha set up the cooking equipment while Kirk figured out the tent.

After awhile, the Russian came out of the storage shed with a length of netting in his hands. With a quick, "I'll be right back," he made his way down to the stream. Kirk watched him check on the horses first. Misha and Yuri seemed happy enough grazing on the tufts of grass along the stream. Pasha then sat down on the flat rock that they'd used earlier and went to work untangling his net.

Kirk set some thick cushions on the floor within the tent, then zippered two sleeping bags together and set a number of pillows on top. He stacked a couple of towels next to the sleeping bags, then reached into his saddlebag. He was thankful that he remembered to toss some bottles of body oil into his saddlebag before leaving the bedroom at the dacha.

~~Always be prepared.~~

Kirk smiled to himself. He hadn't been an Eagle Scout for nothing, although he was certain his scoutmaster had never considered how vital a bottle of lube was on a camping trip. He studied the small containers that matched the oil Pasha had used that morning. Kirk shivered, remembering the feel of the seductive potion on his skin. The captain placed the body oil on top of the towels, deciding he'd have to find out Pasha's supplier.

After dropping his saddlebag in the corner of the tent, he went outside. Kirk spread a blanket out on the grass next to the tent and dropped a couple of folded blankets on top. He then walked over to the stream with a bucket.

In the short time he had been there, Pasha had already caught a couple of large fish in his net. He pulled in three small trout as Kirk sat down on the rock next to the young Russian. With a small grunt, he released the small fish back into the stream to wait for larger fish. He didn't have to wait very long.

"This almost makes fishing uneventful," Kirk teased as he watched his companion haul in two large fish.

The Russian looked up at him with a crooked smile and laughed. "Yes, but I've worked up a big appetite and I don't want to wait." He dumped the fish into the bucket, then got to his feet.

Kirk stood. Holding out his arm, he pressed his hand against Pasha's stomach, blocking the younger man from moving off the rock. "I've worked up an appetite as well, but it's not for fish." He wrapped his arms around his lover's waist and stole a long, passionate kiss.

Pasha chuckled and gave him a shy grin after they came up for air. "Patience. We should have dinner first, and then we'll have more energy to take care of dessert."

"Hmm--I usually like dessert first, but I see your point," Kirk laughed as he picked up the bucket and followed Pasha back to the campsite.

He got the camp stove lit while the Russian cleaned the fish and hauled out some of the freeze-dried food from the storage locker.

"It's a lucky thing the wind is from the south. Otherwise we'd have every bear in the valley wanting to share our catch," Pasha said as he pan-fried the fish. He looked up at the captain with a crooked grin, then added, "After dinner, we'll need to get out of these sweaty clothes and take a real shower."

Kirk blinked. "Shower? Do you mean your Grandfather has an old-fashioned water shower tucked away somewhere in that storage shed of his?"

Pasha grinned. "Well, the water is real enough, but my Grandfather had nothing to do with it."

* * * *

True enough, after they ate dinner and cleared everything away, Pasha brought out a couple of large towels from the storage shed. He tossed one of the towels to Kirk, then led the captain further up along the stream, by the side of the cliffs. As they climbed further up, the landscape turned rockier, and the trees were replaced with shorter scrub trees. The further they went, the louder the roar of the rushing water became until it was almost deafening.

Pasha stopped next to a large, flat rock and started to strip off his clothing.

With a conspiratorial grin, Kirk followed suit until they both were naked. With his towel hung across his shoulder, and his clothes bundled under one arm, the Russian took Kirk's hand and led him up into a hidden alcove nestled deep within the rock face of the cliffs.

Kirk gasped as he took in the beautiful waterfall that fell in torrents into a pool of bubbling water. "A waterfall and an underground spring?"

Pasha nodded as he dropped his towel and clothes on a large rock by the pool. He pulled off his bear repellent and placed it on top of his clothes, then stepped into the churning water. The young man floated close to the waterfall, letting tendrils of the foaming water splash over him until he was totally soaked.

Kirk dropped his towel and clothes and followed his companion into the pool. He sighed with pleasure as he let the warm, bubbling water soothe his tired, stressed muscles.

They floated in the churning water side-by-side, silently enjoying how the cold tendrils from the waterfall pounded their sore back muscles and shoulders.

Noticing that his young companion had closed his eyes, Kirk suddenly grabbed Pasha around the waist. Before the Russian could react, Kirk had wrestled the slight body down into the warm water. The two men broke the surface, sputtering and laughing.

The Russian wrapped his legs around the captain's hips and dunked Kirk under the water's surface. Kirk's hands slid to his partner's buttocks as he surfaced again, fondling the rounded flesh possessively. Pasha wriggled away from the captain's hold and dove under the water to escape from his reach--Kirk taking pursuit after him.

They splashed and tumbled through the bubbling pool with wild abandon, laughing and teasing each other. Soon, however, the captain had the young man cornered between two large rocks. The pool narrowed to a flat wall at the end. There was no escape for the Russian--except through Kirk.

With an evil grin, the captain floated towards Pasha, ready to capture his quarry. He figured his lover had intended all along to lead them into this end of the pool, but Kirk didn't mind. He enjoyed playing the hunter. And, for the time being, it appeared Pasha was enjoying being his prey.

Pasha continued to float backwards, keeping Kirk just out of reach.

The captain chuckled as Pasha reached the rock wall, trapped. Kirk made his move, grasping his companion's wrists first, taking one in each hand and clasping them above Pasha's head. The captain felt strong legs wrap around his hips, the young man's groin rubbing seductively against his flesh. He pressed his lover's back firmly up against the rock wall, pinning him in place.

Pasha met his gaze and held it, dark eyes to hazel, waiting with anticipation for the next step.

Deciding not to keep his partner waiting, Kirk leaned forward and captured the Russian's lips next. First kissing with feather-light strokes, he deepened the kiss until his tongue had searched every hiding place within his lover's mouth and then some.

Releasing Pasha's bruised lips to catch his breath, Kirk ran his lips to one delicate earlobe and nibbled gently. He felt the young man's body buck against him, but Kirk continued to keep his ministrations slow and methodical, the Russian's wrists still anchored firmly against the rock wall.

Picking up the pace just a bit, Kirk began rubbing his erection against the younger man's groin, feeling his lover shiver under the sweet friction. Pasha arched his back, pressing his hips forward, answering Kirk's thrusts as best he could while firmly pinned against the wall.

The captain looked deeply into the dark eyes, losing himself in the endless depths of those eyes. "You are mine--all mine," he whispered, smiling at his lover's soft moans in reply.

Releasing the young man's wrists, Kirk ran his hands up and down the lean body, finally grasping Pasha's waist and pulling him into a tight embrace.

The Russian wrapped his arms around the captain's neck. Leaning down, he pressed light kisses against the older man's cheek. He closed his eyes, whispering into his lover's ear in Russian as Kirk kneaded his buttocks.

Kirk felt Pasha unhook his legs from around his waist. The next thing he knew, his body was twisted to his left and propelled backwards. He let out a surprised gasp, then angled his head back to see they were floating towards one of the walls along the side of their little hideaway.

Pasha entwined his legs with Kirk's and began to rub against his lover in long, delicious strokes.

Suddenly feeling something hard rub along his buttocks, Kirk found himself sitting, and then laying back on top of a flat rock that angled down into the water. The Russian had somehow guided him to a partially submerged rock and gently positioned him in place, never missing a beat as he continued to grind his hips against his lover.

Pasha lay full-length on top of the captain, legs entangled, submerged to their waists in the churning water. Gaining more leverage now that he had a firm platform under the captain's hips, the Russian's thrusts became faster and harder as he worked them both into a frenzied rhythm.

The young man pinned Kirk's wrists down on the rock above his head, then took possession of the captain's mouth in a long, deep kiss that left both men breathless.

Suddenly loving the idea of the hunter becoming the hunted, Kirk wrapped his legs around the young man's middle. He groaned in delight as Pasha rubbed harder against him, building their own heat--cock against cock, fire against fire.

The Russian nibbled on the captain's earlobe and Kirk felt himself shudder as his lover's hands caressed his body.

"What is your pleasure, Jim? What do you hunger for?"

"I want to be inside you," he moaned, arching his back as the Russian's hand found his cock.

Pasha looked down at him, heavy bangs obscuring his face. Kirk reached up and brushed the hair away, finding the dark eyes--more black than brown now--meeting his gaze. A familiar, crooked grin formed over the Russian's lips. "Very well, but this time it is my turn to be on top."

Kirk smiled as his lover's legs straddled either side of his hips. He watched as Pasha spread himself above him invitingly.

Pasha swooned as Kirk introduced a single finger into the tight opening. He heard a ragged intake of breath, then felt Pasha thrash as his finger probed deeper and deeper until he found the sweet target. The Russian arched backwards as the captain rubbed his prostate again and again.

As the captain prepared his young lover, Pasha replied by stroking Kirk's erection to full hardness. The Russian bent down and grazed on the older man's chest, tickling and sucking one responsive nipple into submission, and then the other.

Kirk introduced a second finger, and then a third, enjoying the response he received in return. Kirk continued to pulse his fingers deep inside until he was certain Pasha was more than ready for him.

Kirk withdrew his fingers, and Pasha moved his hips into position. The Russian pulled up on Kirk's knees, angling the legs. Squatting over the captain, he rested his lower back against Kirk's thighs. The captain guided his penis into place under the opening to his lover's body until he felt the head pop in. He watched Pasha take in a deep breath and exhale softly through his nose.

Looking up into Pasha's dark eyes, Kirk gave his partner a reassuring smile, wanting this with all his being. Pasha met the captain's gaze and held it. Then, with a soft sigh, the Russian let gravity do the rest.

The captain moaned low in his throat as he felt his cock slide deep inside his young lover and hit bottom.

Firmly impaled on top of the captain's cock, Pasha paused for a moment to regroup. The Russian's eyes were closed, and he bit his lower lip slightly as he started sliding his hips slowly, pulling his body up in one sweet movement.

As he reached the top, Pasha relaxed, letting Kirk's penis slide back inside him. He repeated the process again and again, gaining speed and momentum with each cycle.

Kirk moaned louder and louder as Pasha's movements brought him higher. Remembering his lover's needs as well as his own, the captain began stroking the young man's erection, pulling and squeezing in the same rhythm as Pasha's hips. Kirk opened his eyes wide when he suddenly felt warm fingers reach down into the bubbling water and gently fondle his balls. Kirk cried out, thrashing up against the Russian, bringing them both higher still.

The captain was beyond saving at that point, allowing Pasha to take over and set the pace for both of them, thrusting his hips upwards to keep pace.

Pasha cried out as his movements became more frenzied, more erratic--a clear warning of his impending climax. Kirk saw the young Russian bite his lower lip hard. The familiar expression pushed the captain over the top, and he felt all of his passion and longings explode through him and inside the young man. Kirk's body shuddered with the force of his climax.

With one last thrust, Pasha arched his back, then he surrendered as well, collapsing forward on top of Kirk in sweet submission.

They lay panting, limbs entangled, for a long time--Pasha's body like a warm, limp blanket over Kirk.

Once the captain finally regained the use of his voice, he managed to gasp, "I see I'm going to have to take you camping with me more often!"

Pasha chuckled, resting his head lazily on Kirk's shoulder. "I would enjoy that, sir."

They laid silently together, bodies still entwined, enjoying the touch of each other's skin.

~~Oh god! I could get used to this,~~ Kirk thought as he lazily caressed Pasha's smooth back. He listened to his partner's soft breathing, feeling the warm water bubbling around them from their waists down. This was paradise.

* * * *

"Come on. It's almost nightfall," Kirk finally whispered, rousing Pasha with a gentle nuzzle behind the young man's ear. "We need to get to bed. I have everything ready."

Pasha nodded his head sleepily and Kirk gently slid the young man's body off of him. They slowly floated out of their little hideaway and into the open pool. Stepping out on the other side, they retrieved their clothes and dunked them into the churning water, rinsing out the sweat and dust from that day's adventures.

Kirk helped Pasha wrap one of the big towels around his waist, then pulled on his own towel. By the time they made it down to their campsite, darkness was already descending over the valley, and the moon acted as their only light to the tent.

As Pasha spread their dripping clothes and towels over some scrub trees by the shed, Kirk went inside the tent and lit the battery-powered lantern. He looked around the interior.

~~Perfect.~~

He decided that their last night together had to be perfect. Perfect enough to last him through the rough times ahead, when he could only look at, but not touch, his young navigator.

Kirk had a moment to reflect on the hell he was going to face once he was back aboard the Enterprise--wanting to take Pavel Chekov into his arms as he had taken Pasha. Sitting in the center seat on the bridge, staring at the ensign's back at Navigation. So close, but beyond his reach. Kirk didn't even want to think about it. He'd face that tomorrow when he returned to the ship. But tonight? Tonight would be one to remember.

Kirk came back outside just as Pasha was nearing the entrance to the tent. The captain felt a broad smile form over his lips as he studied the naked body before him. In the moonlight, the Russian's pale skin seemed to shimmer against the blackness of the cliffs behind him. Pasha's dark eyes, huge and round, looked up at him expectantly.

"Come here, my love."

Pasha walked into Kirk's strong embrace, conforming his body to the captain's as if completing him. They kissed deeply, gentle hands exploring those places that brought tingles of pleasure to the other.

The Russian giggled, nibbling on the captain's right earlobe, as Kirk picked him up and carried him to the blanket that was laid out on the grass next to the tent. Kirk set the young man down on the blanket, then sat down beside him--positioning his back so he was leaning against the taut wall of their tent. He pulled the young Russian down onto his lap and felt Pasha relax against him, resting his dark head on the captain's shoulder. After wrapping another blanket loosely over both of them for warmth, Kirk bent down to track kisses along Pasha's cheek.

They rested in each other's arms for what seemed like hours--studying the stars in the clear, cool night. Sharing stories about growing up in Russia, in Iowa. What they wanted to accomplish in the future. People who had made a difference in their lives. The glorious times and painful end of past loves. Their dreams. Their desires.

Finally, they had run out of words and just held each other in silence, listening to the faint buzz of crickets echoing up and down the valley.

Pasha yawned quietly, snuggling up against Kirk with a contented sigh.

"Pasha--?"

The Russian looked up into Kirk's eyes, blinking sleepily. With a slight nod of his head, he whispered, "Yes, Jim?"

Kirk smiled, loving what the lyrical accent did to his first name--as if turning it into a song. He bent his head down and captured the young man's inviting mouth with his lips. Kirk tracked kisses across Pasha's cheek, then nuzzled against his lover's ear.

"Come to bed with me."

"Yes, Jim," Pasha murmured between soft kisses along Kirk's cheek. "Yes, I would like to go to bed with you. As soon as possible. Yes, Jim--please."

"I do love it when you beg," Kirk laughed as he got to his feet, pulling Pasha up with him. The blanket that shrouded them from the cold fell away, and he felt the young man tremble in the night air. He picked the Russian up in his arms, the sudden image of making love to Pasha the single goal burning in his body at that particular moment.

He pushed through the entrance of the tent, carefully maneuvering his bundle past the flaps and over to their waiting bed.

Kirk gently settled the young man on top of the cushions, then turned to zip down the entrance to the tent and seal the bottom tight. He looked back at Pasha, who grinned up at him invitingly--his face and chest flushed with desire.

"There's no escape for you now, my love," Kirk threatened as he knelt down and leaned over the Russian.

"Who said anything about escaping?" Pasha murmured as he ran his hands over Kirk's muscled biceps.

Kirk pulled back the cover of the double-sleeping bag, then motioned for Pasha to move inside. He paused to lower the lighting of the lantern, grasping the bottle of body oil in the process.

Kirk reached for his saddlebag. Opening it, he pulled out two black climbing harnesses.

Pasha's eyes went wide as Kirk held the leather harnesses out in both hands. The captain grinned as he tossed one to the Russian.

"Come, my little Thrall. It's time for our training session."

Kirk pulled the harness on over his chest and waist, having unhooked and discarded the lower part earlier. He watched Pasha pull on the upper part of his harness as well.

Leaning down, the captain cinched the buckles to his lover's harness, making sure it was secure on the slim body. Kirk then climbed inside the sleeping bag.

He felt Pasha press up against him, inviting Kirk's caresses, helping to spread the seductive oil over their skin, relaxing under the weight of his body, letting the captain possess his mouth. Kirk grasped his lover's harness firmly in his hands, using the leverage to invade his Thrall's body in long, bold thrusts. Pasha was his--body, mind, and soul, responding to him in counter-motion, giving and receiving pleasure as if they were of one flesh.

In the clarity of that moment, Kirk knew that his birthday wish had indeed come true.

* * * *

Awareness intruded on Kirk's dreams gradually. He heard the sound of rushing water in the distance, and the bright chirping of birds. Shore leave. In an instant, he remembered where he was--and who was sharing this particular shore leave with him.

He opened his eyes and looked around the walls of their tent. Pale sunlight lit the fabric, adding its warmth to the sweet smells of grass and wildflowers of morning. Kirk smiled to himself as he replayed his memories of the night before. Mmmmm--perfect.

He listened to the slow, even breathing of the man beside him. Apparently Pasha was still fast asleep. The captain pressed soft kisses along the young man's shoulder, and hugged Pasha's body closer against him. The Russian stirred slightly in his sleep, pressing his back further against Kirk's chest, then settling once again into a deep slumber.

"How I'd love to wake up with you next to me every morning," Kirk whispered, the words almost inaudible, as he watched Pasha sleep.

Kirk brushed his fingertips over Pasha's nape, suddenly noticing the nips and bite marks he had left behind the night before. Kirk sighed. After the dark bruises he had left their first night together, he had vowed not to injure his lover again.

~~Guess we got a little carried away.~~

He kissed the Russian on the shoulder, then carefully extracted his arms and legs from around the prone body beside him. Nature was calling, and he tried to balance his need for making a hasty and potentially noisy exit with his desire to allow his lover to sleep a little longer.

He looked around the tent for his clothes, then remembered that Pasha had laid them out to dry overnight. He pulled off his climbing harness, then bent down to unhook the bottom section of the tent. Slowly, silently, he unzipped the flap that made up the entrance.

The morning air felt cool and invigorating, and Kirk gingerly walked barefoot down along the riverbank. He chose a spot that looked like as good a place as any, then relieved himself. He bent over the edge of the rushing stream, splashing icy water over his face and shoulders. He stood upright again and stretched sore muscles, groaning and grunting loudly at each bend.

He and Pasha had enjoyed a good workout last night, and he decided he could sure go for a dip in the hidden grotto a little later. Kirk glanced back at the tent, wanting to return to his lover's side and let Pasha wake up beside him. Perhaps he could charm the young Russian into a little before-breakfast workout. Yes, that sounded like a marvelous idea, and part of Kirk's anatomy began to agree more and more as the thought lingered in his mind.

Kirk was about to walk back to the tent, then froze as he heard a twig crack behind him. Further upstream, the horses snorted in alarm. On edge, Kirk's eyes scanned around him.

A young black bear cub suddenly ambled out from behind some brush by the river and made its way along the edge of the stream. The young creature seemed unaware of the human's presence, and Kirk relaxed slightly.

He thought about trying to slowly retreat back to their campsite, but the fear of startling the young cub kept the starship captain frozen in his tracks.

The bear cub suddenly stopped and sniffed the air with his short snout. Dark eyes stared at Kirk, then the cub started bleating out with a fearful cry.

Without warning, a large bear came charging after Kirk from her hiding place within the thick underbrush. She came straight at him, forcing him to retreat away from the bear cub, along the fast-rushing stream.

Apparently moving away from the cub wasn't enough in the mother bear's mind. Kirk reached at his neck for the bear repellent--then realized he forgot it back at the tent.

~~Shit!~~

A large paw reached out and took a swipe across his right leg, and he felt skin and muscles tear under the sharp claws. Kirk ducked another attack just as the other paw came from another direction and sent him sprawling onto his back. Kirk felt gravel and twigs grind into his skin as he tried to scamper out from under the mother bear's powerful paws. Another paw swiped across from his left shoulder to the collarbone, sending his body crashing down flat on his back. The paw pinned his chest in a crushing hold and Kirk saw large teeth above his throat, ready to make the kill.

All of a sudden, he thought of how ridiculous this whole situation had become. He could hear the news around the Fleet. ~~Captain mauled by bear after taking leak in woods.~~ If it weren't so frightening, he would have laughed. But then, he always knew he would die alone. It was just that he always thought he'd die in action, not buck-naked, on shore leave, mauled by a wild animal for no other reason than being in the wrong place at the wrong time. That certainly wasn't what he had in mind.

Kirk heard the fearful cry of the bear cub from a distance to his right. The startled cries became more frequent, more urgent with each passing second.

"Ya!" a voice screamed from the same general location as the bear cub's cries. "Ya!"

The mother bear looked away from his prey. Then, amazingly, she lifted her massive paw from Kirk's chest and charged towards the voice.

Kirk shivered in delayed shock, delirious after his close call. He tried to look over to his right, to see where the mother bear had gone. It was Pasha's voice. He was sure of it. Concerns for his own safety vanished as he worried about his young companion's fate.

He heard the mother bear's powerful roar off in the distance, and cold fear stabbed at Kirk's chest. Was she coming back? Had she already killed Pasha, and was she coming back to finish him off? The captain knew he needed to get up and make his escape now. But for some reason, his body wasn't responding to his instructions.

~~Damn.~~

His eyesight started to turn to sparkles, and his head felt light, as if he were floating above his body. Slowly, darkness overtook him, surrendering his body to whatever may come.

After what felt like a split second, he heard a voice call his name. He awoke with a shudder. Opening his eyelids, he found himself gazing into a pair of dark eyes. The expression of fear on his lover's face nearly broke his heart. The captain reached up to Pasha's face with trembling fingers and touched the tears that tracked down the young man's cheeks.

"Pa--Pasha? What?"

"Jim? Can you sit up? I need to get you back to camp and treat your injuries."

Kirk heard Pasha's reassuring voice through the buzzing in his ears. Strong hands helped him sit upright, and held his head as he tried to clear the fogginess that was jumbling up his mind.

"I'm alive?" he croaked, feeling dazed and confused.

"Yes, Jim. I was able to distract her away from you, and then use bear repellent to get her to move along. She was just trying to protect her cub."

Kirk turned to face Pasha. "Oh god. I thought--I thought she would kill you, and then come back to eat me for breakfast. I though you were dead! I--I thought I was dead." He knew he was babbling, and his body suddenly shuddered in a cold sweat. Kirk felt Pasha's comforting arms enfold him and he burrowed his face against his lover's neck.

"You're safe now," Pasha murmured into his ear. Clinging tightly to his lover's body, fear and relief mixed, making his heart race with remembered terror. He took in a shuddering breath, then tried to narrow his focus on the feeling of Pasha's embrace to help steady him. He started to relax, pushing out thoughts of the attack and focusing on his rescuer. It felt safe to be in the Russian's arms, and he wanted to stay there forever.

* * * *

The next conscious thought Kirk had was of awaking hours later, looking up into the craggy face of Dr. Leonard McCoy.

"Why, hello, Jim. I'm glad you're back with the living."

"Bones?" Kirk croaked. He struggled to sit up and take stock of his surroundings, but McCoy pressed him down flat on the bed.

"Don't move! I have your leg in a regen unit," the doctor ordered. Kirk saw the blue eyes change from concern to amusement. "So, who the hell did you share shore leave with--a polar bear?"

Kirk laughed, but the movement hurt his chest and it came out more like a low whimper instead.

"No--I think--I think it was a black bear."

"Well, I knew it had to be some sort of bear, judging from the claw marks." The doctor gave him a quizzical smile. "So, can I assume you were rescuing a damsel in distress?"

"Yeah, something like that," Kirk rasped.

He moved his head to the side. McCoy had put him in a private treatment room, but he could hear activity in sick bay beyond the open door.

Noticing Kirk's questioning gaze towards the open door, McCoy spoke up. "Nearly everyone is back aboard ship after their little wish. I'll have you know that I've filed a formal complaint against Mr. Jaeren regarding the lack of safeguards for his wish technology."

"How bad is it?"

McCoy took a look out the door, then back down at his captain. Kirk saw an assortment of emotions flow through the doctor's expressive blue eyes. "We've been lucky, I guess. No fatalities--thank god. We've encountered everything ranging from a few bumps and bruises, some broken bones, to Sulu getting hacked with some sort of ceremonial sword." The doctor gave him a stern look. "And then there's you with bear tracks all over your body."

"Hey, I didn't wish for a bear to ruin my shore leave--"

"No, I suppose not," McCoy interrupted. "But I could see you conjuring up one just so you could be the mighty hero. I bet your damsel in distress swooned into your arms afterwards, didn't she?"

Kirk grimaced. "I don't remember. I was too worried about dying at that point."

"A great role model you are, Captain." McCoy looked down at him angrily. "You say you're going for some rest and pampering, and here you come back to the ship practically sliced to ribbons! I swear, Jim, someday--"

Kirk closed his eyes with a deep sigh. Gods he was tired. He wanted nothing more than some peace and quiet--and for the doctor to leave him the hell alone.

McCoy sighed too, then continued in a more calm voice, "We're still waiting for the last of the crew to arrive. Chapel is doing triage down on the planet, just to make sure no one slips through without receiving medical attention."

Kirk opened his eyes and stared up at the ceiling, remembering Pasha's strong arms around him as he lost consciousness after the bear attack.

"How did I arrive back aboard ship? I have no memory of that."

McCoy ran his scanner over Kirk's shoulder. "You just sort of showed up on our doorstep. Jaeren gave a call, saying you had arrived back early from your wish--and you were injured."

"Was someone with me when I returned?"

The captain could feel McCoy studying him.

"No, were you expecting your lover to drop you off herself?" The doctor paused. When Kirk didn't answer, he continued, "She wasn't real--you know. Spock says Jaeren uses some sort of advanced holographic image that tricks you into thinking and feeling like the people in your wish have real flesh and bone. It's all very subliminal, and extremely convincing."

Kirk lay back with a sigh. Pasha sure seemed real enough to him. And he didn't even get a chance to say good bye or thank him. Damn.

He blinked his eyes a couple of times. If what McCoy said was true, then it was all a big lie. Pasha wasn't real. Was it even possible for Kirk to hurt the feelings of a specter who disappeared into thin air after his wish was complete?

Yet, why did his body ache to hold the young Russian--even if just one more time?

For some reason, he mourned the thought that Pasha no longer existed. There was no chance for closure. For some reason, he had a compelling need to tell Pasha how much he enjoyed their time together, what a wonderful host he had been, and how much it meant to him to get to know the young Russian in his own element.

Get to know Pasha? Again, it was a joke. Was all of that history a lie? Was Pasha's past climbing accident a lie? Was the metal strong box with the antique compass just some prop? Were the hopes and dreams Pasha shared on their last night together just something that Kirk projected onto his lover? It had felt so real--so substantial.

He found McCoy studying him intently.

"From the looks of your injuries, she must have been real enough to be worth saving."

Kirk nodded his head with a sigh, looking away.

"Care to tell your old country doctor about it?

Kirk looked back at McCoy. "Certainly not."

"Suit yourself. In any case, she apparently lived up to your pampering requirement. She did an outstanding job of bandaging you up before you were returned to us."

Kirk didn't answer, lost in his thoughts. When he did look up again, McCoy was checking the readings on the regen unit on his leg.

"I'm sure Starfleet will be paying Mr. Jaeren a visit," McCoy added, not looking at Kirk, keeping his eyes focused on the regen readings. "Apparently he uses some sort of telepathy to read one's thoughts before beginning each wish. Remember? He had us envision the wish in our minds before talking to him. That's a blatant misuse of his service--prying into people's minds without their knowing it. And a damned security risk as well."

The doctor looked down into Kirk's face. "Hell, for all we know, he could blackmail any of us. Can you imagine what would happen if, say, he discovered some Starfleet Captain's kinky wish and threatened to reveal it to the highest bidder?"

Kirk considered that, suddenly feeling a cold ache in the pit of his stomach. Not liking the course of their discussion, he deflected McCoy's outburst by changing the subject. "So, how long am I cooped up in here? When can I go back on duty?"

McCoy smiled down at him. "Well, you have another couple of hours in the regen unit. The bear slashed through a lot of muscle, so you'll have a slight limp for a day or two. The other injuries are healing nicely--a couple smaller slashes on your lower back, and some more across your sternum to the shoulder." He ran his scanner again across Kirk's chest. "You also had some bruising on your chest, as if you had been sat on."

"The bear pinned me down after she mauled me. I thought I was a goner for sure until--"

McCoy smiled. "Until who--? You're never going to tell me who she was, are you?"

"Not a chance."

"That's what I thought. Hmm. She must be someone I know, judging from your reaction." McCoy finished his scanning, then added, "Now you are to stay here for three more hours. It'll take two hours for the regen unit to finish with your leg. Spock has command at the moment, so the ship is in relatively good hands--but don't tell him I said so. In fact, he came back even earlier than you did. I want you to rest. After that, if you check out fine, I'll release you back to duty."

Kirk sighed. "Two hours--not three."

"THREE hours, and I'll sedate you if you don't just lie back and get some rest. Which will it be?"

Kirk sighed and closed his eyes. Sometimes, it just took too much energy to argue with McCoy. Unfortunately, Bones knew that and took advantage of it at every opportunity. Kirk had learned long ago that orders only went so far when Leonard McCoy was concerned.

He suddenly felt a hypo pressed against his neck.

Kirk shot his eyes open angrily. "What was that for?"

"Don't worry, I'm not sedating you. It's just something for the pain, and to help you relax and sleep. Now, I have other patients to look in on. Get some rest."

Kirk nodded his head and closed his eyes as the drugs began to take effect. Slowly, his body relaxed into a light doze. His last conscious thought as he slipped into a fitful sleep was of Pasha's pale skin shimmering against the blackness of the cliffs--looking real enough to touch.

* * * *

Uhura started to hum to herself again, and everyone turned to look her way.

An embarrassed expression formed over her face as she looked at her captain.

"Sorry, sir."

Kirk gave her a stern look, then turned back and studied the other officers on bridge duty that particular shift.

It was Kirk's first shift after being released from sickbay, and everyone seemed to be distracted. It was growing worse by the minute.

First, he caught Sulu absent-mindedly rubbing his side, over the healing wound that was inflicted during a particularly bloody sword fight. Uhura continued her incessant humming. The humming stopped only when she realized what she was doing. Then, after a few minutes, she'd forget where she was and start humming again.

Kirk found himself susceptible as well, as he tried to keep his eyes from staring at Chekov's back. He ended up training his eyes to look anywhere BUT the young Russian. That only worked until he realized the young ensign sometimes lapsed into a daydream and he'd have to look down at Chekov and repeat an order. It was all Kirk could do not to bark out his course changes to the men at helm and navigation just to wake them up.

Deciding enough was enough, he cleared his throat. Kirk could feel the energy on the bridge pick up. His eyes strayed, unbidden, to Chekov's back, and he was gratified to see the ensign sitting at attention, back to the duty at hand. He sensed others on the bridge giving the same reaction.

The turbo lift doors opened with a whoosh and McCoy took his customary place beside Kirk.

"Just thought I'd come up and see how everyone is fairing this shift, Jim."

Kirk gave him a pained expression. "I think I got my bridge crew back in body, but it seems everyone's thoughts are still back on Jaeren's Planet."

A giggle was stifled and Kirk spun to see Uhura give him another embarrassed look.

McCoy winked. "Well, aside from some injuries, I'd say everyone had a memorable time."

Kirk grinned. "Okay, I have an idea." He looked at his bridge officers, then said, "We're going to take five minutes out of our shift to share our thoughts on Jaeren's Planet. Considering the Fleet has chosen to shut them down, we may have been the last people in the Federation to partake of The Wish. After that, I want everyone's attention back on the business at hand. Got that?"

Everyone nodded.

"It was quite the bonnie thing," Scott shared from his post at Engineering. "I got to finish building a mighty fine sailing ship. Me 'n the crew finished it and got to sail it off the coast of Scotland. We ran into a gale, and we had a wee struggle getting her back, but we made it."

Uhura passed on revealing what her wish was about, saying simply that it was "Delightful."

Sulu gave a summary of his battle with an invading army. He made broad slicing motions with his hands as he told the story about how he single-handedly saved the Emperor from execution.

Kirk looked down at Chekov and watched the young man's cheeks suddenly blush pink under his stern scrutiny. "So, Mr. Chekov, how was the visit to your dacha?"

For a moment, Chekov seemed to have lost his voice, then he murmured, "It was--it far exceeded my expectations, sir. Far exceeded what I had wished for."

Kirk felt a tingling in his groin, and he fought down the familiar response his body was making as he gazed down into those large, brown eyes.

"I'm glad you enjoyed it, ensign," Kirk replied with a wan grin. He pried his eyes away from Chekov's face before his body could react any further.

Spock assured everyone that he had a most productive session of meditation while on Vulcan. To this, McCoy let out a loud laugh and replied, "Meditation? Hell, you can't tell me that a few days of meditation on Vulcan can compare to the rest and relaxation one can get from a good mint julep?"

Before Spock and McCoy could get into it any further, Kirk cut them off.

"Okay, our five minutes are up. Time to get back to work."

The bridge went silent, then Kirk heard McCoy clear his throat. The captain turned his chair to face the doctor.

"Aren't you forgetting someone, Jim? How was YOUR shore leave on Jaeren's Planet?"

Kirk could feel everyone's eyes fixed on him--especially Pavel Chekov's.

"What can I say, Bones? I had an incredible time. It far exceeded my expectations. Far exceeded."

He suddenly realized he had said nearly the exact same thing as Chekov had about his own wish. He hoped no one else noticed, least of all Chekov.

McCoy smiled. "Well, I suppose it far exceeded your expectations until you had that little run in with the bear, right?"

"You were attacked by a bear, sir?" Sulu asked, astonished.

"We had heard you were injured, sir, but we didn't know it was a bear," Uhura's concerned voice piped in.

Kirk grinned. "I'm surprised the ship's grapevine didn't get that out on the airwaves immediately. Don't worry. Nothing too life threatening. Just a few scratches, that's all."

"The hell," McCoy croaked. "All in the name of rescuing some holographic damsel in distress. You'd think you'd have better sense than that, Jim. Fighting off a bear to save someone who doesn't even exist--a phantom. I think I'll take my mint juleps any day."

"Suit yourself, Bones."

He scanned his bridge crew, assuring each person that he was all right. His eyes fell on Chekov last. He was immediately drawn into the young man's dark eyes, and sensed the concern and worry there.

Kirk winked at the Russian, then watched a look of relief replace the worried expression on Chekov's face. The ensign smiled back, reassured.

The captain pried his eyes away before they lingered too long. "Okay, people, back to work. I want everyone to be on their tip-top performance today."

A round of "aye, sirs" echoed around the bridge, and Kirk centered his attention on the details of their next mission.

* * * *

After Kirk finished his shift, he accepted McCoy's invitation to join him for dinner in the officers' mess. As they ate, McCoy shared more details about his own wish, intimating that he had shared it with his ex-wife.

McCoy had to admit that he still loved her, although they had parted years ago when Leonard joined the Fleet. They had parted on less than amicable terms, his wife insisting that Leonard was joining the Fleet to run away. McCoy's wish gave him an opportunity to work things out with regard to their relationship--at least from his standpoint, that is.

"The old feelings were still there, Jim, just as strong as ever," the doctor exclaimed, "Too bad she wasn't real." He then winked at the captain and added, "Makes me want to call her and see if there'd be a chance for us after all this time."

Kirk nodded his head, genuinely pleased for his friend. "That's great, Bones."

McCoy lifted his coffee cup and toasted, "To love, in all its mysterious forms."

The captain raised his cup in a toast, but knew deep down it was just an overture for him to reveal his own wish. For the rest of dinner, Kirk had to keep the doctor at bay, deflecting McCoy's probing questions about his damsel in distress. He could tell Bones was frustrated as hell with him, but he couldn't help that right now. He wasn't in the mood for McCoy's banter this evening.

Kirk excused himself to return to his cabin. He really wasn't angry with McCoy for trying to pry into his personal life, but there were some things that could never be revealed. This was one of them.

He entered the turbo lift and voiced his destination. Kirk was more than ready to get some rest. Although his injuries had been fully treated, there was still an ache in his leg, and his shoulder sometimes pulled when he moved it more than the plastiskin allowed. Overall, though, he was in pretty good shape--considering.

Before the doors could close, a slight body rushed into the lift. As the doors slid closed behind him, Ensign Chekov looked up--wide-eyed--startled to find himself alone on the lift with his captain.

"Where's the fire, ensign?"

Chekov stood silently, giving him a blank look. Kirk smiled and asked gently, "Why are you in such a hurry?"

The young man blushed, then looked down at the floor. "I--ah--I was getting away from Sulu and Uhura. They won't quit until they discover who was at the dacha with me on shore leave."

Kirk chuckled as he rubbed his fingers into his temples. "I know what you mean. The good doctor has been giving me the interrogation treatment as well. Don't worry about it, ensign. It's all right to keep this sort of thing private. If Sulu and Uhura persist, let me know and I'll have a talk with them, okay?"

Reassured, Chekov let out a loud sigh, then replied, "Thank you, sir." The young Russian's eyes met Kirk's briefly, then he turned to face the lift doors.

Kirk could feel the lift slow to a crawl. Then an emergency message appeared on the display next to the door.

"Oh hell," Kirk groaned as the lift came to a stop. According to the emergency message on the display, some of the lifts were suddenly out of commission--their lift one of them. "I give Mr. Scott shore leave to go sailing around Scotland, and the whole ship falls apart around us."

Kirk studied the young ensign's tense shoulders as they stood in silence in the lift. It wasn't hard to notice how awkward and stressed Chekov was feeling at the moment, being locked inside a lift alone with his captain for an unspecified amount of time.

Kirk sighed to himself. Things were back to normal. He suddenly longed for the ease and rapport that he came to enjoy with Pasha during shore leave.

Suddenly, Kirk shook his head, forcing out the cobwebs that were muddying his thoughts. He was on the Enterprise, and what had happened on shore leave was an illusion. It wasn't fair to himself, or to Chekov, to transfer those feelings onto the young ensign--or to compare Pasha to Pavel. There would always be barriers placed between them. He had to accept it and move on.

Chekov nervously adjusted the tunic on his uniform. The young Russian's stress seemed to be building in the uncomfortable silence of the lift.

Kirk was about to say something--to try to put the ensign at ease--when his eyes focused on the back of Chekov's neck. When the young ensign adjusted his tunic, the back of his black t-shirt slid down slightly, exposing more of his neck.

A familiar-looking pattern of bite marks trailed from about the mid-point of Chekov's nape and down until they disappeared under the collar of the black t-shirt. It appeared the ensign had tried to cover some additional marks higher up--the area just below his hairline that would normally be exposed above the tunic. Kirk would have easily missed noticing the higher marks if he hadn't been standing so close behind the young man, and staring so intensely at that part of Chekov's anatomy.

Kirk chuckled. "It looks like someone got a little rough with you back here. I hope it was worth it." Before common sense stopped him, the captain reached up and ran his fingertips down the back of Chekov's neck.

The ensign nearly jumped out of his skin with a loud gasp, leaping forward away from Kirk. His body bumped up against the lift doors, and he leaned against them, body shaking.

After a long, silent moment, Chekov recovered enough to turn around and look at Kirk. He reached up with his left hand to touch the back of his neck and Kirk could see the fading bruises on the ensign's wrist.

The Russian gave a wan smile, "We--we got a little rough the last night, sir. But it was fun."

Kirk looked into those deep brown eyes. Suddenly, it was as if the haze lifted from his sight, and he could see things with much greater clarity.

"You both were drunk, I suppose."

Chekov blushed. "Well--we maybe had a little too much vodka to drink that first night. We didn't have any the last night. I learned my lesson. The last night--it was just for fun."

Kirk grasped the Russian's wrist and pulled back on the sleeve, revealing the faded bruising. "And what about this, ensign?" He tried to keep his voice gruff, but it was difficult to hide the grin that was forming over his lips. Kirk thought he had all of the evidence he needed. But he had to be 100-percent sure.

When Chekov didn't answer him, he released the young Russian's wrist with a low chuckle.

"It looks like we both came back a little worse for wear, didn't we?" Kirk tugged down on the collar of his black t-shirt to reveal the scar left by McCoy's laser surgery. "I received some marks of my own from my little encounter with that mother bear."

Chekov gave out a choked gasp as he stared intensely at the long, faint scar.

"Bones will have to smooth out the scar tissue after this heals, but for now, I have a mighty impressive war wound, don't you think?" He looked down into the Russian's startled face and grinned. "I can't say that part of shore leave was fun, but the rest of it was pretty incredible."

Hesitant fingers reached up to trace across the injured scar. As Chekov ran his fingertips to the end of the scar at the sternum, Kirk gripped the Russian's wrist in a tight hold.

"Just between you and me," he said softly, "McCoy has it all wrong. I wasn't coming to the rescue of any damsel in distress when that bear attacked me. Quite the opposite, from what I remember."

Kirk reached down and gripped Chekov's other wrist. Looking down, he gazed into the Russian's eyes with a warm, loving smile. "Thank god there was someone there to rescue me. I owe that person my life--and I didn't even get to say thank you, or tell him what a wonderful host he was."

Chekov looked up at Kirk, his dark eyes wide as saucers.

"Pasha?"

There was a long pause.

"J--Jim?"

Kirk nodded his head as he ran a possessive arm across Chekov's shoulder.

"Oh my god!" The ensign looked up into Kirk's eyes, a look of horror spreading over his face. He let out a shaky breath, then whispered, "Oh my GOD! You mean, that was YOU? That was really YOU at the dacha?"

Kirk nodded his head. "It appears so, ensign."

Chekov turned his face away from his captain, his body trembling from the sudden revelation.

Kirk felt the turbo lift begin to move.

~~Damn. Of all the times to be efficient.~~

Why couldn't he have five more minutes alone with the ensign--just five more minutes? Was that too much to ask?

"I think we need to talk, don't you?"

Chekov faced away from him, studying the doors to the lift. Kirk could see the young man's shoulders were shaking.

"Just relax, Pasha."

The ensign nodded his head, then whispered a shaky, "Y-yes, sir."

The doors opened onto his deck and Kirk ushered Chekov out of the lift. Luckily, they met no one on their way to Kirk's quarters. He tripped the door release and let Chekov walk inside before him.

The Russian stopped just inside the captain's quarters. He stood silently as the doors closed behind them. The young man's body had started to tremble again.

Head down, staring at his boots, Chekov took a deep breath and said in a shaky voice, "Sir, I--I respectfully submit myself for disciplinary action."

Kirk faced the young man, his voice automatically taking on a stern expression. "On what grounds, ensign?"

"Con--conduct unbecoming of an officer, sir." The young man swallowed a gulp of air, then coughed slightly.

"And what should I do with you if I put you on report for this?"

Chekov's eyes strayed up slightly, but only to Kirk's chest. He couldn't bring himself to look into his captain's eyes.

"I--I don't know, sir." He swallowed again, then whispered, "You could put me off the ship, sir. Y--you could send me away." Chekov's face paled, and the young Russian looked like he was about to faint.

Kirk couldn't torture Chekov any longer. He smiled down at the young man before him, then placed a hand on Chekov's shoulder, the other hand tipping the bent head up to face him.

"Pavel--please look at me."

The young man complied.

"Listen. If I put you on report, I'd have to put myself on report don't you think?"

Chekov stared up at him, not quite comprehending it all.

"I know I said that you didn't need to reveal who you spent shore leave with--but this is you and me, now. Okay? What we discuss here will not go beyond the walls of this cabin. Do you understand?"

The young man nodded his head uncertainly.

"Don't you see what happened? We didn't get a holographic illusion--we got each other."

He smiled down into Chekov's dark eyes, then pulled the slight body close. "I wished for you to be my birthday wish, and--"

"--I wished to be your birthday wish," Chekov finished.

Kirk captured Chekov's mouth in a deep, probing kiss. He felt the ensign kiss back passionately in return.

Suddenly, it was almost like someone else had taken control of his body. Ignoring the tugging ache in his shoulder, Kirk picked the young ensign up in his arms and laid him down gently on the bunk in his sleeping quarters. Soon, he had stripped Chekov's tunic and black t-shirt off. The boots were next, and then the black slacks and briefs. Chekov had worked Kirk's tunic and t-shirt off and was struggling to unfasten the fly to Kirk's slacks.

Kirk laid the young Russian back on the bunk, pressing his body hard against him in the heat of desire. The captain reached for the body oil that he always had hidden in the bookcase inset above his headboard. Chekov had finally unfastened the opening to Kirk's slacks, and the captain moaned as the young man's urgent fingers stroked him intimately.

He parted the Russian's legs and worked a well-oiled finger inside the opening to Chekov's body. Kirk prepared him quickly. He wasn't sure how long his body could wait.

He angled the young man's hips on his thighs, and pulled up on Chekov's legs to position them around his waist. Kirk quickly spread lube on his erection, then centered his cock. He pressed the head in gently, and was about to slide into Chekov completely when a sobering thought made him grow cold inside.

"Oh my god. What are we doing? This isn't shore leave. We're back aboard ship. We can't do this. Not here."

Chekov was beyond caring. He pulled on Kirk's hips wildly, desire and need hot in his eyes as he begged for Kirk to penetrate him all the way.

Kirk sighed, then pinned the young man's upper arms to his sides.

"Pavel, we can't. Not here on the ship." Kirk groaned softly, trying to keep his desire from taking control again. In a muted voice, he continued, "On shore leave. Off the ship. Any other time, we can do this. Oh god, you don't know how much I want this. But we can't--!" He released Chekov's arms and pulled out completely.

"Please don't send me away, Jim. Please--please don't send me away," the young Russian begged as he wrapped his arms tightly around Kirk's waist. Chekov held on in a fierce hug, as if he were a drowning man.

"Don't you see? If Starfleet ever caught on, I'd be kicked down to commanding a garbage scow. Both of our careers would be finished."

"I'd happily navigate your garbage scow--wherever you may be sent. I'll do anything. Just please don't send me away."

"They could discharge us from the Fleet. Or they could split us up, Pasha. You haven't even been in the Fleet long enough to establish yourself yet. This would ruin your career. It would ruin both of our careers."

"Please don't send me away, sir. Please--please, Jim."

Kirk looked down at the anguished face. He relaxed his hold slightly, then bent down and kissed Chekov lightly along the cheekbone, and then down to his neck.

"Do you think I want to send you away? I couldn't get Pasha out of my mind all day today. And there you were, reminding me of what I left behind at the dacha--what I could never have again. All I could think of was how I had messed up running into that mother bear. We missed enjoying each other's company our last day of shore leave because of that."

"I'm sorry you were attacked by that bear. They usually are never around that area."

"I know. It wasn't your fault. I left my bear repellent in the tent."

Kirk leaned down and kissed Chekov deeply, eagerly exploring the inside of the ensign's mouth.

He broke the kiss, then tracked light kisses across the young Russian's cheek to his left ear. "What am I going to do with you," Kirk whispered as he nuzzled the soft skin behind the ensign's ear.

Chekov ran his fingertips lightly over Kirk's muscular back and shoulders. He was careful not to touch the area on his captain's lower back that was injured in the bear attack.

"Hmmmmm?" Kirk asked again, "Tell me, what am I supposed to do with you?"

"Let me stay, sir."

Kirk looked down into Chekov's dark eyes. "Well, I guess I do owe you something. You did save my life down there." He gave the ensign a stern look. After a long moment, then asked, "How good are you at poker?"

"Sir?"

Kirk laughed. "Haven't you ever played poker, ensign? My god, you mean Sulu hasn't totally corrupted you yet?"

Chekov just gave a lop-sided grin as he shook his head 'no.'

"Well, then how good are you at bluffing? Can you keep a secret from the best snoops around--namely Spock and McCoy? You've already had a run in with Sulu and Uhura. Are you sure you can keep totally discrete about this?"

"I can do it, sir."

"Hmmmmmm. If Spock or McCoy even have a hint of what is going on, they will stop at nothing to figure it out. And then we're both toast. Understand?"

"Yes, sir. I understand, sir."

Kirk scattered kisses over Chekov's temple and cheek, then lingered at the young man's mouth. He could feel his need building again. One fact was certain--he could never turn Chekov out of his bed tonight. McCoy was right. 'Kirk' and 'safe' were a contradiction in terms. Kirk was never one to play it safe, and he wasn't about to start now.

"Okay, you can stay--on one condition. After tonight, we need to limit ourselves to shore leave and when we're off the ship until I work something out. We can't take any chances, Pasha, as much as we want it to be otherwise."

"Yes, I understand."

He studied the young Russian pressed beneath him. God, he could hardly believe he was here in bed with Pavel Chekov. How many times had he dreamt of this? But, for the moment, it was hard to merge the two men into one -- Pavel vs. Pasha. But they truly were one person, weren't they? Perhaps Kirk had finally seen the true Pavel, in the form of Pasha, master of his dacha. It was Pavel who he had lusted over all these months, but it was Pasha who had truly won his heart and love.

Kirk looked into the Russian's dark eyes. In the more subdued lighting of his sleeping quarters, they were more black than brown--the same deep, dark eyes that he had seen during shore leave. They were the same expressive eyes that desired him, that wanted more than anything to pleasure him, and be pleasured in return.

"So tell me. The dacha. Was it real?"

Chekov nodded his head. "Da. It was a very accurate replica, right down to the horses, and where Grandfather used to store his vodka--and the hidden pool."

Kirk grinned. "Ah, the hidden pool. That was my favorite part. I hope we can visit your dacha someday. I'd really love to see it for real this time."

"You, sir, will always have a standing invitation."

The captain laughed. "Thanks, Pasha. But I think I'll pass on your grandfather's vodka next time, okay?"

They both laughed. Looking down into Chekov's smiling eyes, Kirk couldn't help but lean down and capture the young Russian into a long, passionate kiss.

After they came up for air, Kirk chuckled, "Oh, have I missed these lips." He kissed Chekov again, then his expression turned more serious. "You realize that I may have to ride you harder on the bridge after this. I don't want anyone to think I'm playing favorites."

His eyes shifted downwards as he slid his hand to the Russian's erection. He stroked the young man, feeling the ensign respond immediately to his touch. Chuckling, Kirk added, "I can't play favorites, but I must say, you certainly have parts that are my favorites to play with."

He continued to work his hand over Chekov's cock, bringing his lover to full hardness almost immediately.

~~Oh, to be young and so responsive!~~

Chekov wrapped his legs around Kirk's waist and let the captain pull his hips up onto his thighs for the best angle of penetration.

Kirk pumped his own cock until the flesh was throbbing for completion. He slid his fingertips across the head with his index finger, then spread his pre-cum inside the entrance to Chekov's willing body.

He felt the Russian arch his back, thrusting his hips up as Kirk introduced a second finger. Chekov ran urgent fingertips along Kirk's shaft, and the captain groaned low in his throat.

Unable to wait any longer, Kirk grasped Chekov's hips firmly with both hands and leaned forward.

Centering his cock to its sweet target, he gently thrust forward until he felt the head pop inside the tight ring. Kirk looked down into Chekov's deep, dark eyes and whispered, "You are mine, my little Thrall--and it's time for our next training session."

* * * *

The End