Title: Recovery

Summary: Sequel to Coma. Chekov comes out of his coma. Kirk/Chekov Slash.

Disclaimer: I do not own and never will.

Warning: Slash. Don't like don't read.

A/N: I was just flicking down my profile when I came across the first story I wrote for Star Trek 2009 which was the story Coma. I read through it again to refresh my memory about how it went and I suddenly got an idea for a sequel - so here it is - a happy ending (and judging by the reviews one is required!). I hope you enjoy!

***

Kirk was sat in his usual position next to Chekov's bed side, waiting for the young Russian to come out of his coma.

Three weeks had past by this time and Kirk wasn't get impatient; he was becoming exceedingly worried about the prospect that Chekov would never wake up. He constantly denied it to himself that such an outcome wasn't possible, but a part of him that he continually tried to ignore kept telling him that his worst fear was coming true.

Kirk didn't like losing, but he didn't like losing someone he loved even more than the prospect of losing a game or failing a test.

Kirk sat and watched Chekov as he usually did. He hated what Chekov looked like; he look like death had sunk its claws into him but refused to swing the final blow; but today for some reason Chekov seemed to have a bit more life in him. Kirk didn't dwell on it though, it might have been a trick of the light or wishful thinking that made Chekov appear that way to him.

Kirk brushed a thumb across Chekov's lips and Chekov moaned lightly and shifted. Kirk's eyes shot open, his senses on red alert. Chekov appeared to be coming out of his coma. Kirk placed a hand on Chekov's shoulder and started to shake the ensign lightly; impatience of having Chekov awake and conscious again getting the best of him.

Kirk knew about the medical advancements that will have helped Chekov tremendously. McCoy had told him everything in an attempt to relieve the monotony of sitting next to a coma patient. Kirk knew he had done it out of kindness, but McCoy had a damn funny way of showing it. But now all of a sudden Kirk was finding use for what he considered at the time to be useless information.

"Chekov?" Kirk questioned as Chekov looked at him threw wide blue orbs. For a few tense moments Kirk thought Chekov didn't recognise him; but just before he believed it whole heatedly Chekov smiled at him with an expression of recognition on his face.

"Keptin". Chekov smile grew. He tried to sit up but Kirk kept him laid down by resting a hand on the Russian's chest. Chekov looked at him, his expression one of curiosity and puzzlement. Kirk's intentions were to not allow Chekov to exert himself as he knew the Russian would do without thinking twice about it. Chances are Chekov would be fine, but he wanted McCoy to check him over first.

He found himself thinking though that Chekov was in a good position to be kissed. No matter how honerable and innocent his original intentions were, he found his love for the young Russian clouding his thoughts and taking them over. Kirk placed a hand against Chekov's cheek. The gesture in itself was innocent enough, but Kirk wanted to see Chekov's reaction to it, more to judge what he was going to do next instead of innocent curiosity. Chekov immediately turned his face into it. It told Kirk all he needed to know.

Kirk leaned in till his lips were only inches away from Chekov's. He could feel Chekov's steady breath against them before he closed the small distance between them and captured his lips in a light kiss.

Chekov, much to his surprise, kissed back immediately and with no hesitation. It was like he had been kissed before and he was certain of Kirk's affections towards him. How was beyond Kirk's cognitive abilities at that time, he was too busy lips locking with his beautiful Russian.

Since Chekovwas laid down on the bed, Kirk had to lean his body over Chekov's to get to his lips, but as the kiss deepened Kirk began to rest more and more of his body weight on the ensign. Chekov never moaned in protest, but instead wrapped his arms around Kirk's shoulders and dragged him closer, making him rest his entire body weight on him.

How Chekov reacted to his touch proved that he wasn't dreaming anything that was happening. He didn't care to think how long he had wanted to kiss the ensign like he was at that moment, and over that, he didn't want it to end.

Chekov didn't kiss half bad for a guy who had just come out of a coma minutes before.

Kirk made a mental note to thank McCoy. The medicine that Chekov was given within the first hour he had been put in his coma had made all the difference; and there he had been saying that what McCoy had been saying was far fetched and was never going to be the case. Now he remembered it; he realised that he had said all that because he didn't dare get his hopes up too far. He thought that Chekov was forever out of his reach.

Kirk broke the kiss and put enough distance between them so he could take in Chekov's appearance. Chekov's lips were parted and he was breathing heavy whilst his eyes were closed and his cheeks were flushed. A smile graced Chekov's lips and when Chekov opened his eyes all Kirk could see was love in the ocean of blue.

Kirk brushed his hand threw Chekov hair and Chekov closed his eyes again with the contact.

"You are so beautiful". Kirk couldn't find it in himself to be his usual cocky self at that moment in time; he was bowled over too much with relief and love to find it in him, let alone give a damn about it. Kirk loved the fact that Chekov now resembled life and youth again instead of the still, lifeless corpse that he had resembled only minutes before. It was amazing how fast Chekov was making the recovery in his eyes. He knew that Chekov would need help to walk again but like McCoy had said, until late into the 21st century, people in coma's didn't have the technology on their side to prevent permanent change. Many woke up changed either subtly or massively, but technology now meant that their personalities and cognitive abilities could be preserved so nothing would have changed the moment they woke up. They woke up the same person they were when they went into it; but nothing as of yet could be done about the physical decline. Chekov would have to learn how to walk again.

"I heard you". Chekov whispered. "I heard your woice in the dark".

"You heard me?" Kirk asked in disbelief as he sat on the side of the bed and clutched Chekov's hand. "Did you...?"

"You are wery good kisser Keptin". Chekov smiled. His eyes alight and full of life just like Kirk remembered them.

Kirk smiled at Chekov. "Jim please, and compliments are always welcome". Chekov tried to sit up again, but with his legs considerably weakened than he last remembered them, Kirk had to assist him in his efforts.

"Thank you ... Jim". Chekov caught himself before he said 'Keptin'.

Kirk was about to reply when Bones walked in, his eyes instantly focusing on Chekov before turning on Kirk. Kirk knew when he was wanted to leave; and now was one of those times.

Just before he left he brought Chekov's hand up to his lips and placed a delicate kiss on his knuckles. Chekov blushed with the gesture and found himself not wanting Kirk to leave his company. Kirk stood wordlessly and left, his expression telling Chekov all he needed to know. Chekov watched Kirk leave, his eyes never leaving him, even as he passed McCoy. McCoy gave Kirk a look and Chekov was amused to see Kirk smile his famous arrogant smile back in response.

Life was sure going to be interesting for him from then on.

End.