Title: Laying it Out
Author: Yami no Kaiba
Fandom: Star Trek XI
Rating: PG
Pairing: McCoy/Chekov
Length: 492 words

Summary: Leonard’s fed up.
Disclaimers: I do not own the characters or the concepts of Star Trek in any of its forms.

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"...and then the Ambassador from Ureder - the one with the platinum hair, remember? - she said 'Impossible!' Of course, I then proceeded to explain the math..."

Ok, that was it. Taking a last swig from his hipflask, Leonard leaned forward on the couch and growled, "Pavel."

"...so then the Ambassador from Lindar..."

"Pavel!"

Blue eyes blinked, startled as they finally looked at him. God, did the kid look tired. "Da?"

Leonard capped his flask and stood it up on the coffee table. "Look, I'm gonna lay this out for you. Don't think or react about it until I'm done, ok?"

Pavel started rubbing at the back of his neck, one of his nervous/anxious ticks. The kid finally moved away from the ironing board where he'd been pressing his dress shirt for the fifth time to sit next to Leonard on the couch. "Ok."

Slinging an arm around those skinny shoulders, Leonard drew Pavel closer, until that curly head was leaning against his chest. Now time for the crappy part of all of this.

Taking a breath, he started rubbing soothing circles on the kid's arm. "I know you want to be an Admiral, kid. I know you think going to all of these ambassadorial functions while we're at dry dock is getting you bonus points with the brass. It's not."

He could feel Pavel tensing under his hand, see the boy open his mouth for protest, and he shifted his position to draw Pavel further onto his lap and give him a good, hard kiss until Pavel relaxed again so he could continue. "Listen to me. Sure, they'll clap you on the back, say some pithy words of congratulations, maybe even give you an award or something. But all they'll think about when your name comes up in conversation is what a good little brownnoser you are.

"It's not your fault, Pavel. The brass is mostly composed of a bunch of old war hawks that had dog fights in the Neutral Zone. They don't care about the Ambassadors unless they claim there's been an attack on their Homeworld."

Looking down, he noticed the concentrated look on Pavel's face as he stroked a hand through that curly hair. "Then what do you suggest I do?"

Not being able to resist, he pecked a kiss against that cutely wrinkled forehead. "Stop trying to impress and just do your best on the job. Stop obsessing about becoming an Admiral and pay attention to the now."

Those blue eyes blinked, and a familiar gleam he'd been missing lately returned. "Ah. I have been neglecting you, have I?" And then Pavel was moving, swinging a leg around so that he was kneeling, straddling Leonard's lap with his hands on Len's shoulders.

Grunting, he shoved Pavel off his lap, which triggered the kid's laughter. "Later, you scamp. You need some sleep, Pavel."

"Dah. Come to bed with me?"

God. He never could say no to those eyes...

--Fin.