Trip went down, hitting the floor face down with a thud. Then he felt the cold touch of the phaser at his neck.

"May I remind you, Commander, the object of this exercise is to get the weapon away from me," whispered Malcolm silkily in his ear, as he pressed his weight against the other man's back.

"Thanks for clearing that up," said Trip. He could feel the heat of the other man's body through his thin t-shirt. He was getting tired and frustrated. "Now tell me, do you have that damn thing glued to your God damned hand or what?" he asked, only half joking.

Malcolm climbed off his back, and replied by gracefully tossing the phaser from hand to hand. Trip glared at him as he pulled himself to his feet. Both men were breathing heavily. He watched his lover get up. The man was smaller than he was, but made up for it with skill and speed. He noted how Malcolm's damp clothes clung to his slender body. Trip sighed, watching the sweat trickle down the Lieutenant's face as he stood. It was easy enough for him to behave professionally with his lover when they were both on the bridge or working down in engineering. But this little hands-on exercise was pushing him to his limits. He just wanted Malcolm to throw him to the ground again and—

"Shall we try again?" inquired Malcolm crisply, interrupting his fantasy.

Trip nodded. Malcolm walked behind him, and began the assault once again. They struggled briefly, and this time the gun finally left Malcolm's hand and skittered across the mat. Trip dove for it and came up pointing it at the other man. It made him feel distinctly uncomfortable, even though he knew the phaser was unloaded.

But Malcolm looked pleased. "Very good, Commander Tucker. You are finally putting some effort into it. Do you want to try one more time?"

The praise made him feel good. But he had other things in mind. He walked over to the other man, standing close. "No, I don't Lieutenant. Because that clock right there says we are off duty. And," he continued, speaking more softly even though they were alone in the room, "I need you."

Malcolm looked down at Trip's clearly visible need. The soft, silky workout clothes left little to the imagination. "I see," he said succinctly. He gave a small smile that made Trip's heart race even faster. Suddenly Trip wondered if just maybe this had been Malcolm's intention all along.

"My quarters. In ten minutes? Or else I'm gonna bust," Trip said to Malcolm.

They both arrived in five, from different directions. As soon as they stepped inside Trip found himself pushed against the far wall, his damp shirt pulled off, Malcolm's tongue capturing his. He groaned with pleasure, arms still caught up in his shirt. Finally he extracted his arms but before he could wrap them around his lover he was grasped by the shoulders and spun around. He put his hands against the wall to keep his balance. Then felt cool air on his ass as his pants were yanked down.

"Don't move," growled Malcolm. Trip obeyed and held still, trembling in anticipation.

He heard Malcolm rummaging around across the small room, and moments later slick fingers were probing his ass. He gasped and leaned his forehead against the cool wall. The feeling was incredible. He spread his legs and arched his back, trying to get those fingers in deeper and deeper. Then the fingers were gone, and he felt something much larger and thicker entering him. Malcolm leaned against him, his breath tickling Trip's sweaty back. He was stretched exquisitely full as Malcolm gently pushed his entire shaft into him.

"And the object of this exercise is?" Malcolm inquired, panting softly in Trip's ear.

"To fuck me," Trip tried to say. He could barely speak. "Please, Malcolm," he managed breathlessly.

With that Malcolm began thrusting into him hard and fast. Trip cried out in delight. This was what he wanted, what he needed. What he had been waiting for. He felt Malcolm's fingers dig into his shoulder as the man slammed into him again and again. For once his lover seemed to have lost his self-control and the thought thrilled him. Then, too soon, pleasure engulfed him as he came hard, spraying the wall and the floor in the process. Malcolm hit him one last time as he himself came, crying out and pushing Trip hard up against the wall. Trip scarcely noticed.

"Oh shit," he heard Malcolm whisper weakly. "Dizzy." Trip turned to see Malcolm sit down on the floor, head in his heads. Seemed like a good idea. He was feeling rather woozy himself. He slid down next to him, wincing as his now-tender ass came in contact with the floor.

"You OK?" he asked, reaching over to stroke the man's dark, damp hair. "We certainly fucked ourselves silly this time, didn't we?"

Malcolm looked up, grinned shyly and nodded. Then he saw the red marks on Trip's shoulder. "Hope that doesn't end up a bruise." He kissed the imprint his hand had left. "Would hate to leave a mark on such lovely skin."

Trip pulled his head up and kissed him solidly on the lips. Then he ran his tongue along the man's cheek, tasting his sweat. He asked, "So, have I disarmed you yet?"

Malcolm looked into his eyes and answered, "Completely."