This story was ruthlessly search and replaced from a Voyager PWP. Well, that's how desperate we Chekov fans get.

Thanks to Britta, and PBWrapper, for their original work, and masterly use of Search and Replace, respectively.

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God, how he loved working on this car; getting the engine to purr just for him. Nothing turned him on quite the same way as the sounds and smells of his beloved 1964 Tchaika. He enjoyed the feel of all that metal under his hands that he alone controlled. He could make it do whatever he wanted. Oh yeah, it got him hot and hard, even now when he was bent over the engine with the hood up, sweat dripping down his face while he pulled gently on the spring attached to the accelerator. Without thinking, he lifted a hand up to wipe his face and got grease in his eyes. Damn. He felt around for the rag he kept nearby but it wasn't there. What he did find was a solid body standing behind him. "Hey, Hikaru, hand me a cloth would you?" A voice whispered in his ear, "Need help with your 'gearshift'?" A hand reached down to squeeze his erection. "I saw you buffing it against the fender a minute ago." Pavel gasped as fingers worked their way inside his coveralls and tugged down his shorts. "Hikaru? Uh, what do you think you're doing? Uhhh, ohhh, don't answer that...don't stop either." He spread his legs as the fingers crept lower and fondled his balls. A low moan escaped his lips as the figure bent over him and bit his neck. God, this was weird but it felt too good to stop. He couldn't stand up straight with the guy behind him grinding his hips against his ass and holding him down with one hand on his shoulder. He thought it had to be Hikaru but he couldn't tell for sure. The hand removed itself from the warmth of his crotch and he groaned with disappointment. A moment later though, it returned and this time it was coated with a viscous substance. Pavel could smell it--30 weight motor oil. Dripping fingers encircled his rod and began a pistoning action guaranteed to get him all revved up. He started panting and moving to maximize the friction. "God...more!" The stroking became faster and the hushed voice inquired, "Want me to put you into overdrive?" "Ohhhh, pleeease...." The fist never stopped pumping but the other hand let go of his shoulder and the next thing he knew, his Tchaika's engine was racing to match his own. Fingers entwined with his as they pulled on the accelerator spring and a moment later, he cried out and came. Strong arms held him as he fought for breath then gently settled him over the fender and away from any too-hot surfaces. He felt a gentle kiss pressed to the side of his mouth and then nothing. After resting for a moment, he reached out and found a cloth. Hastily he wiped his face and opened his eyes. He looked around but he was alone. Had it been real? The motor oil slathered on his cock told him it hadn't been a daydream. He'd get Hikaru for this, that was for sure. Still, he smiled.

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After dinner, which did not go as well as he'd hoped, due to Hikaru's shock and vehement denial of any and all knowledge of his afternoon's activities, he morosely entered the turbolift intending to go home. "Good evening, Ensign Chekov." Warily, he eyed the man standing beside him. "Good evening, Captain," he answered politely. The last thing he needed was a run-in with his CO. The turbolift stopped to let Kirk off and as he turned to leave, the captain leaned forward and said softly, "Vroooom." By the time he made sense of the word and the twinkle in Kirk's eyes, the doors had closed and Chekov was on his way to his own deck. The shock settled in and he shut his eyes tightly. "Halt 'lift."

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Finis