Things that go bump in the night
bdsm, tosmchekov
Chekov had had a particularly rough day.  He had been elected by red shirts to be the entertainment for the day, they had messed with his head, sexually harassed him, and degraded him.  And of course it was all alright because all he was was a slave.  His thoughts kept him awake in bed, at least Riley had let him sleep with him again, in the bed. 

Pavel pondered quietly, unmoving, so no to wake Riley.  He had grown quite a bit of respect for Riley, the man always worked hard, took care of his responsibilities, and cared for Pavel, even though he did to wish admit it. Chekov stared at the flesh on the back of his bed partner, trying to keep himself from reaching to touch the skin.  Pavel had always love affection and he wanted to give it, whether it be family, a lover, or now in his case a Master.  The Russian could never hold back his urges for touch, recognition, and attention.

A shuffling from outside disturbed his thoughts.  Chekov peered to the door, a shadow of feet clearly under the door.  At first he thought it was a crew member in passing, but the feet did not go away.  He grew confused and a little eerie of the shadow and shuffling.  After about fifteen minutes the person walked away and Chekov finally found sleep.

In the morning he had retrieved breakfast for Riley and himself.  The ships computer had him collered and monitored every step outside of Rileys room, a new found privilege, he taken earned since his foolish assassination attempt.  Soon enough he returned and set a small table for them. 

Traditional Irish Ballad// Origin of username
bdsm, tosmchekov
I got Rare Russian Rose from this song, I thought since I would mainly be playing with Riley, I would use this Irish ballad that I am a big fan of.  Here it goes~

Green grows the laurel and soft falls the dew
Sad was my heart when I parted from you
And in our next meeting I hope you'll prove true
Never change the green laurel for the red white and blue

I once had a sweetheart but now he is gone
He's gone and he's left me I'm here all alone
And since he has left me content I must be
I know he loves someone far better than me

I wrote him a letter so loving and kind
He wrote me another with sharp bitter lines
Saying, Keep your love letters and I will keep mine
And you write to your love and I'll write to mine

He passed by my window both early and late
And the looks that he gave me would make your heart ache
The looks that he gave me ten thousand would kill
Wherever he wanders he'll be my love still

I once was as happy as the rare russian rose
But now I'm as pale as the lily that grows
Like the tree in the garden with its beauty all gone
Can't you see what I have come to from the loving of one

(no subject)
bdsm, tosmchekov
The night had been a fury of a shower curtain, goopy soap, and braking glass.  Chekov was nestled in the corner with his cut hands in his armpits, dozing, when he heard the slide of the door in the main room.  His head snapped up and he jumped to his feet, fists banged on the door that had contained him for the last few hours.  "Let me out!"  he shouted, pounding increasing when he heard no response. 

There were bottles skewed around the floor, along with a little bit of blood and shards of glass.  The room was totally destroyed in Chekovs rage of abandonment and anger.  His temper had been tipped by being thrown into the cold room, locked in a left for the night.  That was no way to treat anyone, especially since he had been trying hard to be a little more accepting of his situation. 

He was grateful the O'Riley stepped in, the punishment had not been all bad.  Pavel had always had a thrill seeking streak.  Not so far as masochistic, but it was coming close with the evident pleasure he got out of the humiliation from Kevin. 

"Hello?"  he said lighter, thinking he might have mistaken the opening door for a neighbors, 


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