The Weight of Things

Posted on Tue Jan 6th, 2026 @ 1:21pm by Lieutenant Tollan Yara & Lieutenant JG Koaruh Avestro

1,247 words; about a 6 minute read

Mission: Year One: The Point of No Return
Location: USS Moore - Gym
Timeline: MD 003: 0630 hrs

Yara groaned as he stood up from the mat where he was doing his crunches. His abs ached as he adjusted the hem of his regulation tank over the spots that ran down his side, but enjoyed that subtle burn of his muscles doing the work. He went over to where Koaruh was, waiting for the Betazoid to finish the set of current exercise before they moved on together.

Koaruh finished the last rep, racked the bar, and sat up with a breath that turned into a grin when he saw Yara looming.

“Morning, abs-of-regret,” he said, swiping sweat with the back of his wrist. “You done flirting with the mat or should I give you two a minute?”

“Flirting with the mat, huh?” Yara said, standing and rolling his shoulders. “Says the man who’s been glued to the helm officer lately.”

He grabbed a dumbbell and started his next set. “Didn’t think I’d see the day the great Counselor Avestro caught feelings.”

Koaruh huffed a laugh and slid a plate onto the bar. “Please. I didn’t ‘catch’ anything—I volunteered.”

He set his grip, glanced over. “And look at you, jealous of a helm officer. Tragic.”

Deadlift up, smooth. “Relax, Doctor. I’m not going soft; I’m cross-training. Feelings and quads.”

Tollan gave a slight grunt as he pulled the dumbbell up before he caught up to what Koaruh was saying. "Doctor? Now I know it's serious. You only call me that when I push on some proverbial nerve I'm not supposed to." He teased with a grin before breathing out through the next rep. "So this isn't casual like before. I'm really being replaced aren't I - you actually want to settle down?" He asked, his tone laced with playful humor.

Koaruh snorted, setting his grip again. “Please. Poke me like that because you like seeing the pretty little spots stand up.” A beat, smirk. “You do get weirdly attached to your title when you’re fishing.”

He pulled, clean, then set the bar down. “And no—no nerve hit. I’m hard to wind up. But it’s not casual with Evelyn.” His mouth tipped. “It’s real. For me, anyway. She’s got her own shit to deal with, so it’s her pace… which, on a given night, is either dead stop or warp nine in sixty seconds.” He chuckled, rolling his shoulders. “I keep up. That’s the job.”

He nodded at Tollan’s dumbbell. “Five more.”

Tollan nodded at the number of reps, feeling the aching starting to build in his arm. Pulling into the next rep his eyebrow quirked. The word catching in his brain and he wasn’t able to let it go.

“Job? That’s an interesting way to describe a relationship.” He let out a deep breath as he brought the weight down before the next rep. “It’s not supposed to be work, Koaruh. Not like that…I know Stewart’s been through hell with Stryvek, but it’s not supposed to be one sided.” The Trill added, a touch of concern in slipping into his tone.

Koaruh blew out a breath and nodded. “Yeah—bad choice of word. I don’t mean it like labour.”

He set his hands, then glanced over. “I mean showing up. Choosing her. When she needs to slow, I match her. When she opens up, I meet her there. It’s not one-sided—just not always the same rhythm.”

He pulled, set the bar down clean. “I’m not trying to fix her, and I’ve got boundaries. If it ever starts feeling lopsided, I’ll say so—and you can gloat later.”

He tipped his chin at the weight in Tollan’s hand. “Finish the set, philosopher.”

Yara dragged up the weight to his shoulder for the final rep and let it drop to his side with a heavy sigh. Setting the weight back on the rack he grabbed his water bottle and took a well deserved drink as he shook out the burn from his arm, his eyes studying Koaruh for a moment.

“Listen, Koaruh, I get the appeal. I’m also not blind. Nor do I forget the time you chased a set of triples around a planet on shore leave with me secretly debating if I needed to carry a hypospray and inoculate you before you got in over your head.” He mused with sly grin. “But don’t forget I’ve been married before. It’s never going to be balanced. Stewart is…intense, and she will always need you more than you need her. You’re the stable one now, my friend.” He teased with a snicker about Koaruh’s sudden role.

Grabbing a towel he tossed it at the Betazoid. “But joking aside, I’m happy for you. Both of you. I don’t I’ve seen her this calm since - well, ever. And the way you looked when she sat on your lap the other day in the DMZ, like the cat who got the cream.”

Koaruh caught the towel without looking, flipping it over his shoulder as he leaned back against the rack. He listened, actually listened, the grin softening into something more considered as Yara talked himself out.

“Yeah,” he said after a beat, easy but not dismissive. “I remember that shore leave. For the record, I maintain I had everything under control. You were the one panicking.” A small smirk. “Hypospray would’ve ruined the fun.”

He rolled one shoulder, the humour fading just enough to let the truth sit. “You’re not wrong about her being intense. She is. But needing isn’t a flaw, Yara. It’s just… where she’s at right now.” He shrugged lightly. “Some days I’m steadier. Some days she is.”

At the DMZ comment, he snorted, genuinely this time. “Rude. I do not look like a cat.” A pause, then a crooked smile. “Alright, maybe a little.”

He grabbed his water bottle and took a long pull, eyes flicking sideways to Yara. “But I hear you. And I appreciate it. I’m not walking into this blind—and I’m not disappearing into it either.” A beat. “I’m happy. She’s calmer. That feels… worth showing up for.”

Tollan huffed a quiet laugh and shook his head, reaching for his towel. “You always did have a talent for making things sound more complicated than they are,” he said, not unkindly.

He glanced back at Koaruh, expression open, familiar. “I’m not worried about you losing yourself. If you were the type, I’d have noticed by now.”

A beat—then the grin crept back in. “I just reserve the right to tell you ‘I told you so’ if you ever try to carry the whole damn ship on your back.”

He stepped past him toward the mats, stretching his shoulders. “She’s steadier. You’re still you. That’s… good work, Counselor.”

A pause, tossed over his shoulder. “Now let’s get out of here before I embarrass us both pushing it into a leg day.”

Koaruh huffed a quiet laugh and hooked the towel around his neck.

“Fair,” he said simply. “If I start being an idiot, you’ll call it. That’s why I keep you around.”

He rolled his shoulders once and started toward the exit. “And leg day can absolutely wait. I’ve made enough questionable choices this morning.”

 

RSS Feed