Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Title: Workout
Author: Cait N.  (caitn @ mindspring.com)
Series: TNG
Pairing: Riker/Worf
Rating: R
Disclaimer: The characters and all things Trek are the property

   of Paramount, but the story is mine. Beta: Big thanks to Babs for
stepping up to the plate!
Summary: Riker and Worf try out the new "locker room."

   Author's Note: This was written as a "thank you" to lyrastar for her
beta of "With Good Intentions." She gave me the pairing and two lines of
dialogue - "I will, if you will." and "Klingons do not bottom." lol I hope
she likes it!
Archiving: ASC* and my own site:
/~CaitN/
or http://www.geocities.com/trekluvr/

   All others, please ask.



   = = = = = = = = = = It's quite possible the Gamesters of Triskelion
could be credited with the creation of Parrises Squares.  The Triskelion
training area contained a sprawling "game board" where thralls would
compete - sometimes to the death.  The players were restricted to one of
two colored areas on the game board, and could lose their weapons if they
strayed.

   Parrises Squares was similar in concept...  sort of...

   Will Riker hit the final two squares easily.  Since he hadn't begun the
"quad" maneuver, however, neither he nor Worf won the 64-point bonus, but
it no longer mattered.  With Deanna out of the game for good, they had a
fighting chance.

   The computer buzzed and announced, "Gametime concluded." Of course, in
tournament Parrises Squares, there was no time limit, and games could often
continue for hours ... even days, on the rarest occasions.  Aboard a
starship, however, the gymnasium and holodecks were shared, so games were
usually limited to a single hour.

   "Lucky for you, Will," Beverly panted, bent over with hands on knees. 
"We would've taken you this time!"

   The computer buzzed again.  "The winner: Alpha Team, 155 points.  Second
place: Beta Team, 142 points."

   "So, anybody up for another game tomorrow?" Will was on an adrenalin
high.

   "I welcome the opportunity," said Worf simply, exchanging nods with Will
and then looking at Deanna.  "And you, Counselor?"

   Deanna checked the readout, and saw that no one else was waiting to use
the holodeck at the moment.  She slapped the charged end of her ion mallet
into her gloved and insulated hand, smiled at Beverly, and then turned back
to the smug first officer.  "Why wait...?"

   "Sorry, De, but I've got to work on a paper I'm giving at the Binar
Medical Conference next week."

   "Bev, can't it wait?" Deanna pleaded.

   Beverly shook her head, and tossed her towel over her shoulder.  "Not
this time, sorry." She called for the arch and exited the holodeck.

   "Guess we'll have to take a rain check," Will said with a shrug of his
shoulders.  "Computer, end program."

   The "game board" disappeared, along with the four holographic players
that had completed the two teams.

   "See you later?" Deanna directed at Will.  They had plans to go over
crew evaluations over dinner.

   "I may be a bit late, but I'll be there." He smiled and watched her exit
the holodeck, then turned to Worf.  "I could use a shower about now.  Want
to try out the new locker room?"

   A storage room adjacent to the holodeck had recently been partitioned to
allow for a locker room.  A door from the holodeck opened up into the room,
allowing users to freshen up there, rather than having to wait until they
trekked back to their quarters.  Some thought it had to do with too many
complaints of sweaty and smelly crewmembers walking the corridors.  Will
thought it was just common sense.

   "I don't have any other clothes," Worf replied.

   "Replicate some, after your shower," was Will's answer.

   Worf didn't reply, just followed Will into the locker room.

   It was a pretty standard locker room - showers on one wall, lockers,
sinks and mirrors on the other.  Will had stowed his change of clothes in
one of the lockers before the game.  "I have an extra bag I can put your
clothes in," he told Worf.  He got the bag out of his locker and turned
around in time just to be hit in the face with Worf's smelly briefs. 
"You'll pay," he yelled at the Klingon.

   Worf just bared his teeth, and walked into the shower.  It was the newer
kind; a sonic shower.  A few crewmembers had lobbied for running water
showers, but Picard argued it was impractical.  As usual, the captain had
the final word.

   Will stood a moment, paused in the act of stripping, and admired the
play of muscles on Worf's back as the tall Klingon stood under the
invisible sonic pulses.  He wondered if Worf ever got turned on by the
pulsing waves, like he did sometimes.  His question was answered when Worf
turned around, his huge erection pointing at Will like an accusing finger.

   "I knew Klingons were hung, but damn!" he muttered under his breath.  In
a flash, he finished stripping and joined Worf in the shower.

   "That was a good game," he said by way of conversation.

   Worf grunted in what could have been agreement, or disagreement.

   Will didn't feel like small talk, not really, so he just went about
trying to get the sweat and grime off his body.  It required rubbing and
moving areas that were already stimulated enough - both by the sonic pulses
and by the sight of Worf's hard-on.

   Worf had stepped out of the shower and was heading for the replicator
when Will tackled him from behind.  "Commander!" he shouted.

   They fell, Will on top and Worf twisted around, trying to toss the human
off of him.  Will had him pinned down, hands gripping his wrists like
vises, knees pressing against his hips and keeping him down.  Worf bucked a
couple of times, but was unable to shake him.  "What are you doing?!"

   Will growled and bent his head, biting Worf on the shoulder.  The
Klingon howled in rage and pain.

   "Come on Worf," Will said.  "You know you want it."

   "Want what?"

   Will leaned over and bit the other shoulder, grinding his erection
against Worf's at the same time.

   "You can't be serious?" Worf said.

   "I will, if you will."

   Worf let loose a mighty roar and rolled the pair of them over.  Now
their positions were reversed, but only for a few moments, as Will did the
same thing.  Worf wasn't expecting it, and quickly found himself under
Will, yet again.

   "What are you doing?"

   "You're the bottom," Will said with a evil gleam in his eyes.

   "Klingons do *not* bottom!"

   Will let go of one of his wrists long enough to land a right-hook
against Worf's jaw.  Will thought he heard something snap, but wasn't sure.
Worf glared up at him, lust, hate and admiration in his eyes.  "Now they
do," Will answered.

   He got off of Worf, but the Klingon stayed where he was: it wasn't often
that someone got the better of him, and he admired that.

   "Bend over and brace yourself on the lockers," Will instructed.

   Worf got to his feet and faced the lockers, bending over and putting his
palms against them.

   Will moved up behind him, admiring the sight of the chocolate-brown ass
in front of him.  He spit in his hand, and rubbed it on his erection.  He
was going to add more lube, then realized who he would be fucking.

   Will positioned his cock at the entrance to Worf's ass and gave a
powerful thrust.

   Worf thew his head back and roared as Will buried his cock in his ass.

   "Do you like that, huh?  You want more?" Will taunted as he started
moving back and forth, in and out.

   Worf grunted.

   Will smacked Worf's ass, hard, and arched his pelvis, digging his cock
in deeper.  "That's it.  Take it all."

   He worked up a hard and fast rhythm, feeling the impending release
creeping up on him.  He noticed that Worf had one hand between his legs,
pumping his cock in time with the ass-pounding Will was giving him.

   "Oh yeah, you're my Klingon bitch now." Will rose up on the balls of his
feet as orgasm overtook him, he pulled out and milked his cock, watching as
the frothy cum dotted Worf's ass and back.  He heard the Klingon grunt, and
the metallic ping of Worf's cum hitting the lockers in front of them.
"Damn, that was good." Will stretched and ran a hand over his crotch.

   Worf straightened up and turned around, punching Will in the stomach. 
As Will was doubled over in pain, Worf agreed, "It was good for me, too."

   Not another word was exchanged between them as Worf replicated new
clothes, and Will dressed for his working dinner with Deanna.



   Later, over strawberry parfait and a stack of padds three inches thick,
Deanna observed, "You look refreshed tonight, Will.  There's a whole
relaxed aura about you."

   Will raised his glass of wine to his lips, a lazy smile on his lips. 
"Must be from the workout I had earlier."

   THE END