Work Out Wind Down

Saoirse yawned and stretched. The shower did something to wake her up, but it was still a long way to go to full alertness. The chill of the bathroom tile on her feet helped a bit. She needed time. Time and coffee. And maybe a nap. The lotion she used said that it was supposed to be energized with caffeine and ginseng and maybe methamphetamines to aid in this process, but mostly it just smelled like oranges. Saoirse liked the scent of oranges. Any other benefits were mostly side effects.

It was Friday. That was good. It was morning. That was bad. It was supposed to be gloomy and rainy and gray all day and some of Saturday. That was a mixed bag. She like rain and gloom and even if she didn't, it wasn't an issue. It was a streaming day. She didn't need to go anywhere, and it might even lend some fun ambience to the show.

She had her house to herself. That was another mixed bag. It was her house and in her name and she paid the taxes on it, as far as the government was concerned. Other people used it and moved in it and slept in it and put down some of their money to the mortgage. One of them left a fun little note on the fridge that said Troy made her lunch. There was a small smiley face in the corner. Rachel decided to add a heart and Louise didn't have any amendments. She usually left first, so she couldn't. Saoirse yawned again and found the creamer. None of them made coffee for her. That was good. None of them could do it quite right. She put the kettle on and pulled the French press from its little home in the cupboards. The ritual began and she waited and she waited and then waited some more. After a high whistle and a deep press. It was done. She was ready and comfy and moving. Oddly enough, she was awake now, even before she took a sip. It was enough to have a cup in hand.

There was always that little bite of nerves in her stomach as she turned on the monitors and ran the programs. The intro ran and let her put on the mask. The mask was safe and calm and distant. There was a smile and a bit of a bite and a gleam in the eyes. She could put in on a for a few hours a day and then it had to go back down.

"Morning everybody," she said to a screen, "If you can believe it, its Friday once again."

The internet responded and clapped and put funny faces in the scrolling wall of text. The nebulous hive mind asked what she was wearing.

"Something very soft. It is Friday," she said, "it is gray and terrible out and I want to be comfy. It's a red panda. Look, it has a hood."

She put the hood up on her stupid fluffy comfy suit and it had a red panda face over her own. The stream went by too fast and nothing of substance was said. It never was. One of them asked where she got it.

"I think I told you about some people I met here," she said, "Turns out, one of them never had a sleep over growing up, so we fixed that. She got a wolf one and our other friend was a frog."

Some random person said that it was all abusive and terrible and this poor woman should go no contact with her parents. That one was drowned out by the masses and Saoirse forgot about that one. Some dropped five dollars for her, and she thanked them, almost by reflex. It was nice. But she was already rolling on and moving through.

"So," she said, "today's the day. You've worn me down and annoyed me into finally doing it. I'm playing a video game. That and some of the changes on the site against gambling, which honestly, kind of fair. I have never touched one of these before. This isn't even my thing. I had to borrow it, because I am not dropping hundreds of dollars on a fancy light box."

The stream chat was happy. Placated little moths chasing soft lights, circling and happy, eating their little lotus blossoms. They gave her more money and she never understood why. She told them she didn't understand and that they probably shouldn't do it, but they did, and she said their name and she moved on. She gave her character red hair. There wasn't a slider for the bust, but there should be. It didn't feel like her otherwise. The nose was a little too hooked and hawky, but she wasn't opening any more menus. She was already confused.

"Seek paleblood," said the game.

"What the fuck is paleblood," Saoirse said.

The chat was not helpful. They never were. Terrible little monsters, goading and pushing and prodding her. They wanted her to go up the stairs and down the stairs, roll through the jars and take off her shirt. That last one got banned. There was also a slur or two in there, so it was definitely the right choice. Saoirse was having fun. If she hit a button, the person on screen through a weird chop punch thing. That's all it was really. Small little motions, moving sticks and hitting buttons until something incredible happened.

Then a wolf attacked her, and she died. The game said so in big scary letters. She took a deep breath through her nose and let it whistle out. She did not like the wolf. She liked the place she ended up though. It had pretty flowers and a creepy church.

"I just want you all to know," she said to no one and everyone, "I hate you all. Never make me do anything other than poker again. Tell you what. I'll do a poker sim. That seems like a good compromise."

The chat laughed at her and with her and there was still that fun little spark of putting on a show. It ebbed and flowed, sometimes almost snuffed out. There was a knock at the door, and she ignored it. Louise ordered something and was very excited to get it. Saoirse took a sip from her cup. That was nice. She was awake and alert and she went back in.

---

Troy snickered and closed the stream. He had things to do, and his work computer was probably monitored. But he had to see what Saoirse died to. He died to the same stupid wolf and never touched that game again, despite what Jacob and Mike said. He had emails to sort and appointments to keep and that meant he needed to look professional. The jacket did most of the work for him. The shirt was nice and crisp and ironed. He couldn't look professional and watch streams. It was simply impossible.

His calendar chimed and said he had fifteen minutes until he had to talk to someone. Kyle Waterford wanted to open a certificate. He wanted a good return and a good interest and everything good. Everyone wanted good things. Troy included. He had good things and now he would have to go out and give others good things. He stood up and straightened his shirt. No wrinkles or creases or anything out of place.

The front lobby of the bank did not have anyone waiting. Jenna at the front desk was on the phone. The street was sparse of people. A guy with a coffee cup and an umbrella strolled on by and Troy shrugged.

"Everything good Troy?" Jenna said as she put down the phone.

"Yeah. Don't I have an 11 today?" he said, "My calendar just went off."

"You shouldn't. One sec. Yeah, you're clear."

"Really. Waterford?"

"Dude, that was yesterday. You feeling ok?"

Troy stopped for a moment and considered the question. He was. Little embarrassed because he made a mistake, but just slightly. It almost wasn't worth mentioning.

"I am feeling absolutely fantastic," he concluded.

"Sure, sure whatever. How's the new place? Just moved in with your girlfriend, right?"

Troy also considered that question. It was a fun question. And he figured he would bend the truth of it just to avoid more awkward questions and awkward looks. He moved to the desk and leaned against it, looking at the street. So many people walking by with their own little worlds. One of them almost stumbled on the corner and tripped. That was fun. She didn't face plant or anything and no one saw.

"It's an adjustment, I'll give you that," he said, "And we're living with two of her friends."

"One guy and three girls," she whistled, "How lucky. What's her name?"

"Rachel," he settled. He had to pick and choose and that felt like the one to target.

"Wait. Rachel. Rachel. That's the one you work out with, right? The one that kicked your ass?"

"Yeah. Not really the most romantic meet cute, but it worked, I guess."

"If you say so. You do seem happier. A little more scatterbrained, too."

He just shrugged. There was no lie in there. There was no attempt to refute. He walked out of his little glass cage ready to meet a man he already met yesterday. He wanted to go back and sit at his desk and while away the hours until closing time hit. It was his turn to cook, and he had plans.

So, he did. He waved at Jenna and retreated back to his little hole in the wall. He waved at his other coworkers, and some waved back. Some were busy. And some just did not care. That was fine. Troy did not care sometimes. Jacob waved back, but Mike did not.

But he was back at his desk and scrolling through nothing at all. He changed his calendar. It was a liar, and nothing could change the fact. He didn't touch the things coming down next week. That was the future and as far as he knew, correct. He looked at the clock. He had been working for 10 hours on those piddling little tasks and only 10 minutes had passed. His stomach growled. Technically, it was lunch time.

And that technically was a good enough excuse to move again. Troy did not like the break room in the bank. They only had high tops and those were not a comfortable way to spend half an hour, hunched over his phone, mindlessly being distracted while he ate. He much preferred his little walls and his little screens and his little space. He made muffalettas. Louise really loved that. Gave him a hard kiss on the cheek and sauntered off, swaying her ass for him, when he told her.

It was still a weird adjustment. One person was a lot, three was even more, and the fact that it was a Rachel and a Louise and a Saoirse made it almost too much. The move in was fine, really. He lifted and Rachel was Rachel and Louise was surprisingly good at organizing. Saoirse was already moved in, so that was fine. She just moved things under Louise's direction. It worked and then they had pizza and then they had sex. Lots of sex. Almost nonstop. He smiled and opened his lunch.

He shut it down just as quick. Rachel decided to slip in something fun because she was Rachel and that was all she thought about. He didn't mind. It was fun. And it got him going. That was undeniable. He liked the sheer simplicity of her existence. He liked it when Saoirse said weird sarcastic things. He like it when Louise found what he was doing and just suckered herself in the same room for a bit.

He peeked at the photo again. It was Rachel, naked and flexing and strong. She curled her arm and let everything bulge and hang and sway. He laughed and kept looking, letting the memories and the sensations get him riled up. Something completely unexpected and unknown to all of them at some point. As far as he knew, Rachel didn't even have a label for herself. Just a force in the world, colliding and bending and shoving and he wanted to hold her again. She was always so warm. They would always shower together, stroking one another, kissing and humping and the inevitable thought of her spreading-

A knock came at the door. It opened before he could say to leave him alone.

"Hey Troy," said Jenna, "Getting a pool to get some pizza. You want in?"

He just held up his sandwich and that got the message across.

"I'm good," he said, "Just catching up on some emails."

Jenna shrugged and shut the door behind her. Troy was alone again and he slipped the picture down and away. He could return the favor somehow. Still a shock to see everything Rachel was, and his reactions to it. One of his girlfriends had a huge penis. There was nothing about that sentence that wasn't rad as hell.

---

"Ken, you are the Devil," said Louise.

"Yes," Ken said, "Yes, I am. Now, back in the ring. You owe me 2 more sets."

"No, I don't. I pay you. You should be nicer to be. If anything, you owe me."

"Right again. But you're still not in the ring. That's what you pay me to do."

Louise sighed and bounced and recentered herself. And she got in the ring. It was a fun ring. It was square shaped and kind of bouncy when she walked on it. It's where she met Rachel, all tall and dark and intimidating and sweaty. It's where Rachel knocked her out with one punch and took her to the hospital. Its where so many wonderful things happened and now she was squaring off against an old pudgy man that could probably tear this whole building apart brick by brick if he had the inclination. He just smacked the pads together and smiled that chipped cracked smile at her again.

A quick roll of the shoulders and tweak of the neck, and a few steps of the ginga to set the rhythm again. Ken could match her pretty well, for a man made of unbending oak. Bouncing and dancing and swaying back and forth across the mat, building heat, building momentum. And then she was upside down in a cartwheel that had a fun name she could not pronounce. Her foot hit another pad and she was back in the rhythm.

Her limbs burned and she was having fun, despite the pain. It was hard not to have fun while doing a cartwheel. She supposed it was possible, but she had no memories of that. Even as a kid, she wasn't this acrobatic. All the tumble runs and flips and rolls she did paled in comparison to a good scorpion kick.

She bobbed back and found the step again. Always took a moment after that, but Ken was right there with her, never letting up. But he was getting red faced and huffy too. That was worth it. Old man had to move and there was only so much moving left in those tree trunk limbs. So, Louise was back to moving as well, side to side, upside down, rolling through the beats in her head.

And she finished when she was on the ground, sweeping her legs and forcing the old man to jump on trembling knees. He barely cleared it. Just barely. Louise would take that. Not quite as good as knocking someone to the floor, but it would have to do for now. She was still building up the nerve to actually sign up for a live spar class. Those could get brutal.

"Very good," Ken huffed, "Very, very good."

Louise sighed and crawled towards her water bottle. It was lukewarm by now, but it worked. It gave her something to do before the bastard devil of muscles decided that she needed to be tortured again.

"So, that is all for today," said Ken, "Same time next week?"

The incongruity stood in Louise's mind for a moment before she let it fall. Not fast enough, since Ken started laughing again.

"You had it right," he chuckled, "I am the Devil. And what does the Devil do?"

"Depends on who you ask. If you ask me, stand around with snakes and poke people with pitchforks. And yes, that works."

"Lie. The Devil lies. Mostly for his own enjoyment. Exclusively for that. Unless you want to go again?"

"Wouldn't want to give you a heart attack," Louise groaned as she stood. Everything was undone. All of her limbs were shot and sore and she wanted to go home and sleep for a year. That was the sign of a good workout. And she'd get some of it back on the bus ride home. And she'd get more of it back when Rachel showed up and Saoirse stopped doing her stupid internet thing and Troy finished dinner. By the time all the inevitable sex happened, she'd be ready to run a marathon. She'd better be. She had a fun surprise waiting.

Even the thought of it was perking her back up. She heard Ken chuckle.

"Both you and Troy," he called out, "always look like happy little puppies when you leave here. Am I so bad?"

"You agreed to being the Devil," she replied, "So, yes. Yes, you are. You are literally the Devil until proven otherwise."

Ken laughed again, but he did not deny anything. There was nothing to deny. Everything was as it should be, with all of Louise's stuff back in her smelly gym bag. And then it was over her shoulder and she was out the door.

It was terrible and rainy. Perfect weather for sitting on the couch and mashing their bodies as close as possible. Troy's had the standard shape for her. Saoirse had great neck support, and Rachel had a good mix of both. So many choices, and no reason to settle on one. She did settle on her bus seat and let her head rest against the cool glass with the rain drops racing down. Probably a million other foreheads, carrying a million other thoughts rested on the same spot. And they were probably carrying other things, but Louise didn't think about that.

The bus rattled on and on and on, each little bump sparking something in Louise. The pain was gone, except for a small twinge in her shoulder that she didn't like the think about. It would get better after a day or so of rest and it would all be fine. Even if it wasn't, she had a Rachel and a Saoirse and a Troy to make it better than that.

---

"Honeys," I say, "I'm home."

It smells amazing. My new home smells amazing. Mostly because I'm still not quite used to it, and Saoirse goes for more fruity air fresheners and candles. Troy carries his weight in that department as well. Not sure what he's making, but it's going to be incredible. Those weird sandwiches were amazing, and I need more of them on a conveyor belt into my belly.

"Keep it down," Troy says, "Saoirse's still doing her cam girl routine."

He's wearing an apron. And other things. But I wish he wasn't. But he is in an apron and there is something viscerally primal about coming home after a long, hard day's work to a significant other in an apron, making dinner. I love it. I love him. He is in my arms before I can stop myself and he does nothing to shake me off.

His hands go to my ass and grip, hard. He is in my neck and working up as I am working down. He beats me to his goal. His lips are on mine and every bit of heat and pressure we've built up starts to fall away. He works into me, and I am too fatigued to put up the fight I want to. It's still fun to be kissed and hugged and he picks me up. The door opens again and I don't care about that right now. I'm in the air and spinning and I'm going to eviscerate this man carnally as soon as I have something to eat. And maybe a short nap.

"You're wet," he murmurs as he sets me back down.

"I'm surprised you noticed that first," I hum, "I'm also hard. Just FYI."

"I thought something was poking me. You've been out in the rain all day. Poor thing."

"Oh, it was terrible. Everything I had to move was heavy and big and awkward. And I've been out in the pouring rain."

"Was the sandwich good at least?"

"That was amazing," Louise says as she slinks in behind me, "That was easily the second best I've ever had."

"Who's the first?"

"Grandma."

"I will take that. I will love that. I will gladly take silver if she's getting gold."

He puts me down and I have to finagle a third in our little embrace. Louise does a good job of slipping in and now I hold both of them. Because I am a showoff, they are now both lifted and spinning. And Troy was right. I am wet. Louise is wet too. And she's holding something. But none of that's important. She's kissing me and then to Troy and back to me and then I go to Troy and then I kind of forget where I am and what I'm supposed to be doing. There's just lips and heat and pressure and I can feel him getting hard too. Louise taps and I have to set her down. Troy gets more hang time, but I also want to eat, and he can't cook all restrained and lifted like this.

He's hard, tearing at the seams on his comfy pants, and shuffling away with that tight ass of his, but I have a Louise to deal with now. We're tracking water all over our new floor and that's terrible. She also has a fun present. But she just brushes me off and goes to hide it away from peeking eyes. And I see getting changed as a really good move right now. Rained on or not, I don't want to wear my uniform a second longer than I have to, even if it is just a t-shirt. I don't like being branded.