fandomhighdorms | The Gym: Tuesday before classes

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The Gym: Tuesday before classes

Worf arrived at the gym early which wasn't entirely uncommon but his reason for being there was more than just to beat the stuffing out of the punching bag.

After hearing radio last night he rralized he had a duty to perform which he actually wasn't to thrilled about. However he knew what he had to do was as much an honorable thing as well as an obligation.

So he passed the time beating up the punching bag and waiting for a certain somebody to show up.

[Though Worf is waiting for one in particular the post is open for anyone]

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Cal supposed, as he rubbed tiredness out of his face, there was at least one benefit of the very little sleep he'd had: he could use it as the reason why his eyes looked so red. It wasn't that he'd had any trouble sleeping; the crying had taken care of that, but it wasn't long after he'd eventually dozed off that the fake baby from class started crying, too, waking him up, forcing him to take care of it, and by the time he had finished, it was too late (too early?) to even try going to sleep.

Might as well be productive with the time. Cal shuffled into the gym at what he considered an obscenely early hour, dumped the fake baby with his stuff somewhere close in case it needed to be 'cared for' again, and headed blindly to the mats to start stretching.

And then blinked, but he hadn't even noticed Worf there until just then. "Hey, Worf," Cal said, failing to stifle a yawn. "Didn't even see you there."

Which was funny, because it wasn't like one could be all that stealth in beating up a punching bag.

Worf stopped his pummeling and looked at Cal.

He cringed inwardly but outwardly straightened his shoulders.

"Cal. Good morning."

He frowned a little and approached his friend.

"We must..."

And that would be more frowning.

"Talk."

It was Cal's turn to frown, most of it in his eyebrows, in an expression halfway between confused and mildly disturbed.

"We do?"

"We do."

Worf straightened his posture so he was standing almost at military parade rest, complete with his hands held behind his back.

"I heard on the radio last night of your break up with Amber. As your friend it is now my duty and responsibility to..."

Worf hesitated slightly, looking very awkward.

"Console you in your time of need."

And with that he awkwardly reached out to pat Cal on the shoulder in a very firm manner. Twice.

Oh, God. It hadn't even been twenty-four freaking hours yet! Cal would have let out a pretty impressive curse regarding radio as an absolute violation to anyone's personal privacy, but that was when Worf patted his shoulder and, to be honest, the gesture was just so...awkward that Cal could only blink and stare for a moment.

And then he snorted a laugh, rolled his eyes, and shook his head. "Jesus, Worf," he said. "Going all Kodak moment on me, here."

It was so ridiculous that it actually was pretty damn comforting, though.

Worf was not sure what exactly "kodak" was or why it was funny but he simply chalked it up to Cal's emotional state.

He gave Cal a curt nod. "My adopted brother has instructed me on what to do in situations such as these. First I will be happy to listen to how awful this Amber person was. Then I shall give you a list I have prepared on how she is not right for you and how she is not of a certain moral character. This will then be followed by going out to drink various alcoholic beverages with the option of either calling a cab or carrying you home," Worf said with dead seriousness.

And then because he had no idea what to do further attempted to do another awkward shoulder pat.

Cal eyed his overly patted shoulder for a moment, and then he eyed Worf. He was a little amazed how, although it probably wasn't in the way Worf was thinking, Cal was in fact feeling comforted by all of this. By the sheer ridiculous of it and the fact that Worf had even thought to do it.

"It's...cool, man," he assured Worf and gave Worf an assuring pat on the shoulder back. "Really. I mean, I kind of knew this was going to happen eventually, and Amber's not awful, at all. We'll still be friends." At least, he hoped so. "And I don't even drink alcohol, anyway, but if you want, I'll let you follow up on the part about carrying me home."

Worf eyed his own shoulder in puzzlement for a moment until he assumed that this was a natural part of the grieving process.

"Very well," Worf replied. "However if you are not going to drink I'm confused why you need to be carried. Did she harm your legs in any fashion?"

What in the world would Cal have done if he'd never met Worf, really?

"It was just a joke," Cal said with a very faint grin. "My legs are fine; it's my sides that are bruised right now, but that has nothing to do with Amber."

He rubbed the back of his neck a little.

"Maybe I will take you up on a drink tonight," he added. Just to have something to do, if anything. Take Ino up on her offer to babysit the fake kid. "After my play rehearsal." Yeah, he might actually need more consoling then, really.

"I'm not drinking prune juice, though!" He felt he should get that out there before it was an issue.

"You may drink what you wish," Worf replied. "You are the one who is in need and it is my duty to ensure your..."

There was a faint look of distaste on Worf's face.

"Emotional well-being. What happened to your sides?"

Cal couldn't help a small grin for Worf's expression. He was pretty sure he emotional well-being would be fine; it'd gotten through a hell of a lot worse than this before, but it was kind of oddly comforting, still. Maybe it was just because this whole thing clearly pained Worf, but he was doing it anyway out of a duty that was....kind of ridiculous, but Cal was glad for, anyway.

Cal stretched with a yawn and turned that into a stretch for real, wincing slightly at the pain from it. "Self-Defense club yesterday," he said. "We worked on rolls; I'm not very good at them."

Worf looked a little more relieved. Probably because self-defense was definitely more his territory.

"It is however a very valuable technique," Worf replied. "If done properly you will not only minimize damage but also allow yourself to recover quickly and possibly get the drop on your opponent."

"I'm not really much of an evasive guy," Cal said, realizing the irony of the statement. It would have been more appropriate to say evasive in battle, because he could dance around anything else with almost unparalleled skill. "But, yeah. Something to work on when I'm not so tired. I was just going to do some weight lifting this morning, since I'm up anyway..."

Cal did not sound pleased about this fact.

"Physical exercise will do you good, but only if you do not strain yourself," Worf advised. "Lifting weights while injured could make matters worse."

"They're just bruises, Worf," Cal assured him. "The only thing injured right now is my pride."

Worf nodded. "That is fine. Please remember that I am here in case you wish to discuss your..."

Again the look of mild distaste.

"Feelings."

"Worf," Cal said, rolling his shoulders one last time before settling down to sit at a weight bench, "talking with you about feelings would be like talking to a bear about how, really, it shouldn't eat you. No offense. I mean, it works out, though. You're probably not one to want to listen to them, and I absolutely hate talking about them."

Worf relaxed at the statement. "Thank you. Though I am here if you need it," he said heading back to the punching bag.

"...I know," Cal nodded. "Thanks..."

He'll save that for later, though, where the option of alcohol was at least available. Funny, though, how he was thinking he might need it more for Worf being compassionate than for the breakup.

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The Gym: Tuesday before classes

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