A FRIEND IN NEED

Title: A Friend in Need, 1/2 
Author: Jaye (Copyright May 2002)
Codes: VOY/TNG Chakotay/Riker NC-17

Disclaimer: Star Trek, The Next Generation, Voyager, Enterprise and
all  related characters and concepts are the property of Paramount.
No  infringement is intended or profit made. This is NC-17 for m/m
sex. If you  aren't interested (or aren't old enough), don't read
it.

Archive: OK, just drop me a note so I know where it's going. Please 
keep the text (especially the disclaimer) intact.

Feedback: Sure but be kind, or at least constructive. E-mail is 
wordsmith872@fastmail.fm

Summary: Chakotay helps an old friend when he's down.

Note: For this story, I'm using the dates listed on a Star Trek 
website. Riker and Chakotay are the same age (both born 2335), and
Chakotay  attended the Academy from 2350-54, while Riker was there
2353-57. It  makes sense, since the actors are the same age as well.
This was originally  written for ChakotayFest.

***************

PART ONE

=San Francisco, 2367=

Starfleet Commander Chakotay almost flinched from the smoky,
fermented  atmosphere that washed over him as he opened the dingy
oak door. The  smell was unavoidable, like an aggressive drunk
throwing an arm around  his neck, leaning too close and blowing
fetid breath in his face with a  slurred "Howyadoin'." Taking a last
inhalation of slightly fresher  evening air, he squared his
shoulders and walked into the Gold Coast Saloon.

The bar looked just as bad as it stank. No doubt about it, this
place  was a dive. Wood panels were blackened with the grime of
generations,  while the timbered plaster ceiling was the kind of
gray that only came  from starting out white---years of smoke ago.
Chakotay hoped he wouldn't  step right out of his shoes as he tried
to make his way across the  sticky floor to the bar that took up the
back wall of the room. The dull  mirror built into it reflected the
low-wattage lights scattered about,  but didn't do much to alleviate
the dimness.

As he walked, Chakotay scanned the scarred tables, searching for the 
man who drew him to this unpleasant pub. Figures slouched in defeat, 
curled around half-filled glasses of different shapes and sizes.
Many  avoided his eyes, simply drawing their drinks closer in
protection. The few  who did meet his gaze returned it with
narrowed-eyed glares of  suspicion. Chakotay didn't want trouble, so
he simply nodded in return and  quickly looked elsewhere.

He had almost reached the bar, dreading a conversation with the 
sullen-faced man standing behind it, when he finally spotted his
quarry. The  one he sought was in the far corner of the room, half
sprawled across a  small table. Only a back and the suggestion of
broad shoulders were in  view, but that was enough. Chakotay moved
to the man's side and laid a  hand on one dangling arm. "Hello Wil,"
he said quietly.

Like a bear rousing from hibernation, the lump in the chair slowly 
lumbered into a sitting position. Red-rimmed light blue eyes blinked 
blearily at the standing man, then a rumbling growl issued from
Commander  William T. Riker's bearded mouth. "What the hell are you
doing here,  Chakotay?"

"Practicing my tracking skills." He took a seat across the tiny
table.  "I traced your trail of the last few days. Paid your
tabs---and covered  all the damage you caused. You started out in
the bar at your hotel,  then had a wild pub crawl to the seedier
side of town. You moved from one  watering hole to another until you
collapsed here last night, or should  I say this morning?"

"Hmph." Wil squinted at his glass, then raised it to his lips in a 
futile attempt to find a last few drops of alcohol. He set the
cylinder  down with a surly click. "Congratulations. You're an able
little Indian  brave. Now beat it."

Black brows rose as Chakotay absorbed the insult and the realization 
that somewhere along the line his friend had transformed into quite
a  mean drunk. "How about you come with me?"

"Not a chance." Riker turned toward the bar, raising a slightly
shaky  hand to order another round.

Chakotay was faster, yanking the arm back down to the table. "I
don't  think so, Wil." When bearded lips opened to protest, he
jumped in with,  "We either both leave now, or you tell me why
you've been drinking  nonstop for the last three days."

Wil jerked his arm out from under the bronze hand, nearly toppling
his  chair backward. He snarled, "Leave me the hell alone, Chakotay.
I'm a  grown man on shore leave and I can take care of myself."

"Really. Then why were half of those bar owners planning to report
you  to the cops? You're lucky you're out of uniform. If Starfleet
Security  knew about this you'd be cooling your heels in their brig
right now."

"Only long enough for me to turn in my resignation." Riker muttered
as  he lay his face back down on his folded arms.

"*What*?!" Chakotay rose from his seat in shock. "Resign?" He
grabbed  brown hair and lifted the slumped man's head until he was
again looking  into not-so-clear crystal eyes. "Wil, what in the
world is going on?"

"I told you to get the hell out of here!" The taller man reared up
from  his chair with a roar, clamping a hand around Chakotay's wrist
and  flinging him away. Chakotay went with the momentum, turning the
toss into a  spin that brought him back around to face a
now-standing Riker. He  brought a fist up and clouted the bigger
man's bearded chin, then caught  his less-than-fragrant friend as he
sagged to the floor.

He quickly slung Riker's arm around his shoulder and began dragging
the  heavy body toward the exit. He called to the barkeep over his
shoulder,  "This guy got a tab?"

"Nah, you pay your way here," the man answered honestly, not wanting
to  make his own acquaintance with those capable fists. He saw the
two  large figures silhouetted against the evening sky, then the
door closed and  they were gone.

***************

Chakotay was tired by the time he laid Wil Riker's unconscious body
on  his own bed. He'd managed not to do any more harm---he winced at
the  memory of punching his friend---on the trip from one
transporter station  to another, and from there to Chakotay's cozy
off-campus cottage. The  fumes wafting from the unconscious man's
body were explanation enough  and no one stopped him on his journey.

He quickly gathered a tricorder, regenerator, sponge, soap, towels
and  a basin of warm water. Using the tricorder to find the bruise 
underneath the beard, Chakotay quickly healed Wil's jaw. Then he
stripped the  large body and began a hasty sponge bath.

When the unconscious man was clean, Chakotay reviewed his condition 
once more. He quickly dialed up a hypospray to combat the
detrimental  effects of the large amount of alcohol Wil had consumed
over several days.  He added treatments for dehydration and the
massive hangover his friend  was bound to have when he finally woke
up.

Chakotay returned all his paraphernalia, then prepared a quick meal 
that he ate sitting in a bedside chair. It was also his base for
grading  essays as he watched over Wil. According to the tricorder
Riker was  simply sleeping off the effects of his three-day binge.

When his own bedtime came, a pajama-clad Chakotay scanned his friend 
once more, then pulled out an extra blanket and approached the bed.
He  lay down on top of the covers, and touched the other man's
shoulder.  "Good night, buddy," he said softly, turned over and
settled down to sleep.  As he drifted off, he wondered what had
happened to put Wil Riker in  such a state.

************************************************************
************************************************************

=Starfleet Academy, 2353=

First Year Cadet Wil Riker slouched in a chair in Admiral Wallace's 
empty anteroom. He couldn't believe he'd only been at the Academy
three  months and was already failing his Tactical Theory class. He
was dreading  the coming meeting. Though the gray-haired officer was
congenial  enough, Wil knew that if things didn't go well his
Starfleet career could be  over before it even started.

He straightened to attention when the door opened, then went back to 
his slump when he realized it was just another teen, this one in
civilian  clothes. Wil noted the black hair and golden-brown skin
that suggested  a tribal heritage, but otherwise ignored the
newcomer until a soft  voice broke the silence.

"Hello. Are you here to see Admiral Wallace about a Tactics class?"
The  handsome young man had an engaging, dimpled grin, but Wil
simply did  not care about anything beyond his own misery.

"Yeah. Look kid, I'm guessing you're here because you're failing
too.  No offense, but I'm not interested in commiserating or
dissecting or  anything else. We don't really need to waste any more
time or conversation  on each other, okay?"

The youth shrugged. "All right."

Wil couldn't interpret the sudden gleam in the deep brown eyes. He 
watched the slightly shorter man move gracefully to an empty seat on
the  other side of the room. The stranger pulled out a padd and soon
became  absorbed in whatever it contained. Wil himself fidgeted,
anxious for the  Admiral to show up so he could find out if the axe
was going to fall.

"Sorry I'm late," Admiral Wallace called out cheerily as he breezed 
into the room. His face brightened as he looked at the two teens who 
quickly stood to attention. "Chakotay, good to see you could make
it. Thanks  for cutting your excursion short."

"No problem, Sir." The black-haired youth relaxed and gave his
charming  smile. "I'm afraid a few lessons in a holosuite didn't
adequately  prepare me for a ski trip to the Alps."

"Ah, but I'm sure you had many lovely snow bunnies eager to show you 
the slopes."

Wil was surprised to see the bronze cheeks heat with a blush. He 
wondered how the two knew each other; their banter was much more
familiar  than the three-months' acquaintance Chakotay's freshman
age would suggest.  He snapped back to attention when Admiral
Wallace addressed him. "Sir?"  he responded.

"Mr. Riker, I hear you're having a bit of a problem in Commander 
Preston's Tactical Theory." The voice was stern but the eyes merry;
Wil  couldn't figure out which to react to.

"It would seem so, Sir," Wil sighed, unable to hide his glumness.

"More than seem." Wallace gestured the other youth closer. "Well,
not  to worry Cadet. Have you had a chance to chat with Mr.
Chakotay?"

"Um, not really Sir."

"Chakotay is a Fourth Year student of mine, Advanced Tactics. I've 
asked him to take you in hand, as it were." Wallace sat on the edge
of his  absent secretary's desk. "He's submitted an interesting
approach to the  teaching of strategy, and you get to be our guinea
pig."

The older man nearly laughed aloud at Riker's startled-deer
expression.  He stood and clapped his hands on the gray-clad
shoulders. "Good luck,  Cadet Riker." He nodded to the other youth,
"You too, Chakotay." Then  he headed into his office, whistling.

Chakotay moved to stand in front of the stunned student. He noted
again  the crystal clarity of the teen's eyes, his dark brown hair
and tall  frame. "You've just had an important lesson in Tactics,
Cadet Riker." He  winked. "Never assume."

He turned and crossed to the door, saying over his shoulder, "Come
on,  we can talk just as easily outside."

Wil followed the other cadet's loose-limbed stride, unconsciously 
admiring the view as they headed into the slanting light of late
afternoon.  Chakotay led him down a nearly hidden path through the
gardens. They  slipped around the end of a tall hedge into a
secluded patch of grass and  flowers. A small table with two benches
sat to one side. Nearby were a  pair of loungers set low to the
ground with a flat round disk in  between.

"Welcome to my little corner of the Academy," Chakotay said,
spreading  his arms in invitation.

Wil hesitantly stepped forward and perched on one of the benches.
"How  did you find this place?"

"Boothby. He's the head gardener, and a legend around here."
Chakotay  sprawled on the other seat. "I help him out sometimes, and
he's my  boxing coach. When he found out I knew carpentry, he set me
to designing  little pieces of furniture like these for the gardens.
In exchange, I got  this corner of the grounds to call my own---at
least while I'm here."

Wil leaned on his elbows and peered at the young face across from
him.  "Is this for real? *You're* my tutor? Just how old are you,
anyway?"

Chakotay laughed. "Do you really think admirals waste their time 
playing practical jokes on unsuspecting cadets?" He mirrored Wil's
position  and said, "I'm eighteen. I was accepted three years ago
for early  admission. And yes, I am your tutor. That is, if you want
me." The wide  shoulders shrugged. "If you don't, then I can
probably get someone else to  help you out."

Wil shook his head and laughed ruefully, treating Chakotay to a
flash  of his own dimples and good-natured grin. "It's hard to
believe that my  tutor is probably younger than I am, but I'll get
used to it." His  light eyes twinkled. "Yes, I want you."

Chakotay could feel himself start to flush and quickly jumped to his 
feet. "Okay. We'll start tomorrow, then. Is sixteen hundred hours
here  good for you?"

"Yeah, that'll be fine." Riker stood as well. "And thanks."

"Don't thank me yet. The Admiral wants us to use the lesson plan
I've  devised. It might not be any good."

"Well, my grade can't get worse." The two moved back into the
gardens.

Chakotay lightly touched Wil's arm before they parted. "Riker, your 
first assignment is Sun Tzu's 'Art of War'. The faster you read it
the  faster we can begin the real work." He moved away with a
parting smile.

Wil called out, "Hey kid!" and was pleased to see Chakotay turn. "My 
friends call me Wil."

"I only have one name, Chakotay. You can use that." The black head 
shook slightly as Chakotay chuckled. "And if you call me kid again
you're  going to be 'Old Man'. See you tomorrow."

"Tomorrow." Wil said, then made his bemused way back to the dorm to 
download Sun Tzu.

************************************************************
************************************************************

"But that's not what the Professor wants, Chakotay. He's looking for
an  application of *his* theories." Wil jumped up from the bench and 
stormed around the small area of green.

"Regurgitation, you mean," Chakotay retorted from his seat on the 
tabletop. "Do you really think that Commander Jason Preston is the
end-all  and be-all of critical thinking?"

It had been two months since the cadets had started their study 
sessions. They had examined the writings and histories of Sun Tzu,
Alexander,  Napoleon, Rommel, Khan, Kirk and others. Under
Chakotay's tutelage,  there had been a transformation in Wil's mind;
now he could *see* the  different factors---objectives, terrain,
combatants' forces and positions,  support, morale---weaving
together like threads to form a  three-dimensional tapestry of
conflict.

With his fellow student's help he had learned to put himself into
each  leader's place and plot different strategies, gauge each
plan's chance  of success and the factors that affected the odds.
The problem was,  many of Wil's tactics were a tad...unorthodox.
While taking tests in  Preston's class Wil had pretty much stuck to
whatever would earn him the  highest marks from his instructor. But
now they were starting simulated  battles. Chakotay was urging Wil
to find his own approaches to the  scenarios, while Cadet Riker was
firmly convinced playing it safe was the  only way to ensure a good
grade.

Wil stopped pacing and stared at the hedge. It didn't help that he
was  also wrestling with an unfamiliar attraction to his tutor. It
hadn't  diminished over the last eight weeks despite Wil's steady
stream of dates  with comely coeds. Chakotay may be a Fourth Year
cadet but he didn't  put on airs or try to lord his seniority over
Wil. In fact, he'd been  very generous in showing the newcomer
around the campus and to some of the  more interesting places in the
surrounding neighborhoods.

Wil had found Chakotay's friendship increased his own prestige among 
his classmates, but didn't care. He simply enjoyed the young man's
mix of  focused concentration and easygoing, lighthearted fun.
Chakotay also  had a sly sense of humor and a shy streak that popped
out at the oddest  times, adding an endearing blush to that handsome
face. Wil had  occasionally found himself lost in contemplation of
deep brown eyes, barely  absorbing the day's lesson. All this
despite the fact that Riker was  getting a rep as a campus
ladykiller, and had never even considered another  guy attractive
before now.

Chakotay sighed and contemplated his friend's tense shoulders and
stiff  spine. He really should just back off and let Wil make his
own  decisions. Or, if he had any sense of self-preservation, urge
him to follow  Preston's lessons while taking the sims. After all,
his own project for  Admiral Wallace depended on Riker's grade. Wil
was now at the top of his  class, and if he aced the sims Chakotay's
approach to understanding  strategy could actually influence next
year's courses.

He sighed. But he believed in Wil, and thought that the freshman's 
unique way of viewing things should be encouraged, not warped so it
could  fit into someone else's mold. Chakotay thought that Wil using
his own  tactics in these made-up conflicts would also be a good way
for him to  hone his instincts, to get a sense of when things were
going well and  when he needed to make adjustments on the fly.
Following someone else's  battle plan wouldn't do him much good in
that respect, because his  decisions would be reflecting another
person's mindset instead of his own.

Chakotay realized he was staring at his friend and quickly turned
his  attention elsewhere, hoping he wouldn't blush. He found himself
thinking  about his pupil at the oddest times. He could be in his
dorm doing  assignments for his own classes and suddenly his mind's
eye would be filled  with Wil's infectious grin and striking light
eyes.

It was a little disturbing. Chakotay had plenty of friends among his 
own peers, but he was very much aware of the difference in their
ages. He  had come to enjoy the company of a contemporary. After
Wil's initial  disbelief he had accepted both his tutor and the
situation with  remarkable aplomb. Their natures complemented each
other quite well, Wil's  gregariousness balancing Chakotay's quieter
insights.

Now these weird feelings were surfacing at the worst possible time. 
Chakotay was *finally* popular with the fairer sex (at least the
First  Year cadets), now that he wasn't younger than everyone else
on campus. He  was dating, cautiously considering the possibilities
for his first  serious relationship. He'd been stymied before now
because the only Academy  women interested in younger men were the
admirals, and there was no way  he was getting involved in that
scene.

Chakotay shook his head and slid to the ground. He needed to give
Wil  some space to make his own decisions. And Chakotay needed time
to get a  handle on his unfamiliar attraction. Get rid of it,
really, since  nothing could come of it. He walked over to Wil.

Riker started at a soft touch on his arm. He turned to meet grave
dark  eyes. "Listen, Wil, you have to do what's right for you. If
you think  you'd be better off not trying anything unusual during
the sims, then  that's the plan you should stick to."

Chakotay could feel himself starting to blush as he continued. "I
just  want to say thanks for letting me try out my ideas on you, and
I think  you've got a real talent for tactics." He grinned. "And I
*really*  think you should just admit you're an iconoclast, and
throw everybody's  opinions out an airlock. Including mine."

He quickly moved away, pausing at the edge of greenery. "Anyway,
good  luck. Let me know what happens."

Wil watched his friend disappear behind the hedge. He returned to
the  bench to do some serious thinking.

************************************************************
************************************************************

Chakotay hurried to Admiral Wallace's office. His gut was tight with 
concern. The simulation tests for Tactical Theory had ended two days
ago,  but he hadn't heard from Wil at all since their last
discussion before  the exercises even began. He hoped that his
friend wasn't mad at him  for expressing his opinion. He hoped even
more fervently that Wil wasn't  avoiding him because he'd failed the
class.

The secretary waved him through, so he hastened into the inner
sanctum.  Chakotay skidded to a stop at the sight of a tense Wil
facing Admiral  Wallace---and Commander Preston. The middle-aged
blond Tactics  instructor squinted at the newcomer. "That him?"

"Yes, that's Chakotay." Wallace waved him to a chair next to Wil. 
"Welcome, Cadet. Have a seat."

Chakotay tried to catch Wil's eyes as he settled stiff-backed into
the  seat, but the other student was facing forward as if no one
else was in  the room. Chakotay gave a sad mental sigh and hoped he
hadn't screwed  things up for Wil too badly.

"Now, Cadet Riker, Cadet Chakotay, I'm sure you're aware that the
sims  results for Tactical Theory are scheduled to be posted today."
Admiral  Wallace leaned back in his chair and regarded the two
youths doing  their best impressions of mannequins. "I wanted both
of you to know  Commander Preston's evaluation of Mr. Riker's
performance."

He stood and indicated the frowning man. "Jason here was unaware
that  I'd asked you, Chakotay, to do some tutoring. *And* to use
your own  teaching method."

The Admiral circled his desk until he could perch on the front,
between  the two students. "The results were unexpected." He almost
laughed at  the matching crestfallen, disappointed faces. "And
damned impressive.  Highest scores on record since you were a
freshman in the same class,  Chakotay."

"Wil, that's wonderful! Congratulations." Chakotay turned to his 
friend, torn between jumping up with joy and slumping in relief.

Riker still sat like a statue, stunned. "You mean I passed?"

"You not only passed, young man, you showed some of the most
creative  thinking I've seen so far from the freshman class."
Wallace glanced over  his shoulder at Preston, who didn't look
pleased. "The Commander  thought your solutions to the scenarios
were highly unusual, but the bottom  line is, they worked. And you
get full credit for originality."

"Well, not all the credit, Sir. Chakotay really helped me find my
own  way of doing things." Wil quickly sent his friend an elated,
grateful  grin.

"Yes, we'll be taking Mr. Chakotay's suggestions more seriously now 
that they've gotten positive results." The Admiral shot another,
more  pointed look at Preston. Then he turned back to identical sets
of beaming  dimples and had to shake his head at the euphoria of
youth. "Well, I'll  let you go now." He slid to his feet and shook
each cadet's hand as  they stood as well. "Congratulations again to
both of you. Dismissed."

Wallace waved away their thanks and watched the two bound out the
door.  He shook his head at their exuberance and returned to his
desk. "Pull  up a seat, Jason, and let's see how we can get more of
our cadets to  think out of the box."

***************

The two young men managed to walk with proper decorum until they
were  out of the building, then they started whooping with glee. "I
can't  believe it!" Wil shouted, laughing.

"Neither can I. Weren't you just going to give Preston what he
wanted?"  Chakotay asked, smiling but confused.

Riker's body worked off excessive energy, pacing around his tutor
while  his arms emphasized his words. "I was all set to
'regurgitate'. That  was the plan. Then the first sim started."

His eyes flashed with delight. "And I could *see* what was going to 
happen, the way the battle would play out if I followed the standard 
tactics. And then," he looked at Chakotay, "I thought about what you
said.  So I figured what the hell, and threw the rulebook out the
airlock." He  nearly jumped with glee. "I can't wait to tell my
folks."

"They'll be counting the seconds 'til they can congratulate you in 
person," Chakotay agreed. He gave a teasing grin. "Your head will be
so  swelled, I bet you won't even be able to fit through your door
when you  get back from break."

"That's right. We get two weeks off." Riker lightly smacked his 
forehead. "I was so caught up in finals and those damn sims that I
completely  forgot. Where are you headed?"

Chakotay shrugged. "I don't really have any plans. The vacation's so 
short I can't go back to Dorvan. I may take a few day trips, or kick 
around an archaeological dig somewhere."

"You should come with me, back to Alaska."

"Wil, that's really generous, but it's your first trip home since
you  got here. I wouldn't want to crash your reunion."

"Nonsense. My parents would love to meet you. Besides," Wil flung an 
arm around Chakotay's neck, "I figure you're so polite you'll end up 
doing all my chores for me."

"Don't count on it."

They laughed together and continued walking down the path.

************************************************************
************************************************************

Wil's family was thrilled to meet his new friend, but a little 
embarrassed that due to other visitors Chakotay was forced to bunk
with his  fellow cadet. The two men took it in stride. They figured
a week in the  same room was good preparation for sharing a tent for
their planned  four-day camping trip.

Alaska was a beautiful vista of water, forest and mountain, and 
Chakotay was very glad Wil persuaded him to come along. He was
lazing on a  blanket at their campsite, watching his host arrange
their food  containers. They had both stripped to their swimsuits in
deference to the heat.

Unnoticed, he ran his eyes over Wil's pale skin, admiring his
muscles  and amazed at the thick dark hair on his torso and limbs.
He gave a  mischievous grin. "Hey Wil," he called.

Wil hastily ended his surreptitious study of sleek golden-brown skin 
laid out like a feast for the eyes. "Yeah?"

Brown eyes gleamed. "You ever get mistaken for a bear?" Chakotay
asked.

Wil's reaction was instinctive. With a roar of mock outrage, he
flung  himself on the supine man, straddling him and pressing his
shoulders to  the blanket. "You take that back," he demanded, eyes
laughing.

"Why, it's a perfectly reasonable question," Chakotay lightly
touched  one brown-furred arm, "Bear."

Wil leaned down, getting into his companion's face. "Do you really
want  me to start calling you 'Kid' again?" Then his expression
changed as he  fell into liquid dark eyes. He moved closer, lightly
placing his lips  on Chakotay's.

The kiss was tentative, a little awkward as they bumped noses trying
to  come together. Wil felt a hesitant tongue and opened his mouth, 
inviting deeper contact as he shifted to lay across the bronze form.
He moved  to touch the night-black hair, letting his fingers play in
the silky  strands. He felt a gentle brush along his neck, then
shoulders as his  partner's hands began their own exploration.

After a time they drew apart to stare into each other's shocked
faces.  "What are we doing, Wil?" Chakotay asked quietly.

"I don't know." His voice was just as soft. "But it seems right." He 
was stunned to feel his back hit the blanket as the darker youth
rolled  them over.

"How can it be right? We're both seeing other people." Chakotay's
eyes  were concerned. "I *want* to kiss you, touch you," he ran his
hands  through the mat of hair on Wil's chest, "but I don't think
I'm in love  with you."

"I'm not in love with you either." Wil said. He shrugged. "And
neither  of us is in an exclusive relationship yet. Maybe we're just
ready for a  new experience, and we feel comfortable enough to do
some  experimenting."

The blue eyes were serious now as well. "Would you be okay with
that?  We just...see what happens while we're on this trip, and when
we get  back to the Academy we resume our regular lives."

Chakotay thought about it, then looked at the supine figure. "I
think  so, but we have to promise that if either one of us wants to
stop, we  do, no questions asked and no hard feelings."

"Agreed. I don't want to lose you as a friend, Chakotay."

"Same here. And we don't do anything in your parents' house. That
would  be disrespectful. So when we return there, we just share a
bed like  we've been doing."

"Okay." Wil gave his merry grin. "We can always sneak out to the
shed  for some nookie."

Chakotay gave a surprised laugh, and Wil took advantage of his 
distraction to try to reverse their positions again. The two young
men tussled  and rolled, finally ending up on their sides with
erections pressing  against their swimsuits. They started kissing,
hot and deep, as  animalistic grunts sounded in their chests.

Golden fingers sank into a field of brown curls, finding the pale
pink  nipples hidden like treasures. Chakotay tweaked the pebbled
nubs,  twisting them a little, and heard Wil's groan echo in his own
mouth. He felt  fingers on his back, sliding and scraping down to
his hips to catch his  waistband. He lifted his body a little,
letting the pale hands slide  off his only covering.

Wil growled when he felt nails rasping across his abdomen, carefully 
removing the cloth brushing his erection, then yanking the material 
roughly down his legs. He felt the hands linger on his limbs, palms
rubbing  his flesh as the fingers traveled back up to encase his
buttocks and  squeeze.

All the while the kiss continued in earnest, mouths open and tongues 
dueling together in wanton abandon.

Wil put his hands on that tantalizing bronze ass and pulled,
grinding  their erections together. Chakotay broke the kiss to moan,
then turned  passion-glazed eyes on his light-skinned companion. The
rapid pulse  beating in the pale neck drew him, and he descended on
Wil's throat, teeth  grazing the throbbing vein.

The crystal eyes closed, reveling in the primal beat of their bodies 
against one another, strong hands grabbing his flesh as he groped at 
Chakotay's. Their movements became frenzied as their mouths met once
more,  sucking and biting each other's lips, pressing hard enough to
draw  blood. They reached the pinnacle together, matched sets of
semen spurting  over their writhing forms.

Two bodies lay glistening with sweat in an exhausted tangle, feeling 
the zip of pleasure running through their nerves and veins to
linger,  tingling in the scratches and bites they'd bestowed on each
other in their  passion.

"I hope you packed a regenerator," Wil said, gently brushing the 
scrapes on Chakotay's golden flesh.

"Yeah. Though I never thought I'd be using it to heal a hickey *I*
gave  *you*." Chakotay lightly touched the bruise on his friend's
neck. "That  was a bit wilder than I'm used to."

"Me too, but it was one hell of a ride." Wil grinned, but the light 
blue orbs were concerned. "Are we going to be okay?"

"I think so." Chakotay flashed his own dimples. "I wonder what other 
trouble we can get up to in a week." He touched his nose to his 
companion's. "Bear."

"Why you---" Wil claimed the smiling mouth and they started again.

************************************************************
************************************************************

For all the opportunities they had, the two young men didn't take
their  fling very far. They enjoyed exploring each other's bodies,
necked in  unusual places as they stroked each other off, and
experimented with  oral sex. By unspoken agreement they never
attempted more intimate  joinings, preferring to keep things as
uncomplicated as possible.

A week later they stood at the Academy transport station, an awkward 
silence falling between them as they readied to part for their dorms
and  pick up the lives they'd left behind on their Alaskan idyll.

"Are we going to be okay?" Chakotay blurted, cautiously regarding
his  companion.

"Yeah. Still friends?" Wil asked, hoping.

Dark gold fingers twined with snowy counterparts as they clasped
hands.  Chakotay smiled. "Definitely friends." They shared a grin
full of  secrets as they went their separate ways.

************************************************************
************************************************************

Their friendship never wavered. Even after Chakotay graduated the
two  kept in close contact, sharing what was happening in their
lives.  Occasionally they vacationed together, and even
double-dated. They never  acted again on the attraction between
them, even after they both had other  male lovers. After Chakotay
accepted the Academy teaching post Riker  would crash with him when
he was on Earth and didn't want to bother with  a hotel or
impersonal officers' lodgings. The two were comfortable 
platonically sharing a bed, just as they had done that first
semester break  in Riker's home town.

TBC