slouch king apologist

Sevika pushes open the double doors to the large, well lit gym, holding one for you as you step inside. Once you're both in, she lets it swing shut behind you and it closes with a loud click.

"Come on, babe," she says, gesturing you to follow her with a jerk of her head. The movement causes the muscles in her neck to protrude and you make no effort to look away when they do. As she turns to you, her face breaks into a cocky grin, her gaze lingering on your form.

"See something you like?"

"Maybe..." you drawl. "But I wouldn't want your head to get any bigger than it already is."

She beams in return, a low chuckle escaping her throat as she shakes her head.

"Smartass," she says, nudging your shoulder with her prosthetic. "Already starting with the jokes, huh?"

Her gray eyes glint as she starts walking backward toward the weight floor, effortlessly owning every inch of the room.

"Come on, then—let’s see if you can talk shit and squat."

You both reach the squat rack and Sevika sets her bag and bottle down before switching into her workout sneakers. After, she begins loading the bar with weights while you get yourself ready by pulling up your gym playlist.

"Can't wait to hear you whining about how sore your legs are tomorrow."

"Oh, I'll be sore," you scoff, rolling your shoulders back. "But from carrying your ass the whole time."

"Keep talking, pretty boy," she smirks and finishes racking the bar with a metallic clank. "You wouldn't be able to do my routine."

"Really? Why don't we see about that?"

Stepping up to the bar and wrapping your hands around the metal, you turn to your wife.

"How many reps?"

"I start off light, so ten, full depth," Sevika says, folding her arms across her chest and leaning against the rack, watching you with an amused smirk. "And no cheating—ass to grass or it doesn't count."

"Alright, then. Consider it done."

You wiggle your fingers around the bar, letting yourself take a deep breath as you prepare for a weight you've never done.

Sevika taps a prosthetic finger against her bicep, waiting.

"You just gonna stand there looking cute or what?"

"Relax," you murmur. "I'm imagining your face after I kill this."

Moving to get under the bar, you settle it on your shoulders and curl your hands around it as your wife moves to stand behind you, her own hands facing upwards as her breath hits your neck.

"It's not too late to back out, y'know."

The purr of her voice distracts you for only a second before you roll your neck and make eye contact through the mirror in front of you.

"Not a chance in hell," you huff.

The muscles of your thighs contract as you lower into a squat—ass to grass, like the other woman says. A low exhale of effort escapes you as you press back up, gritting your teeth. Sevika is watching you closely, both hands hovering as she moves with you in perfect sync.

"Good, slow and controlled," she says, her gray eyes tracking your facial movements. "Just like that."

The burn is beginning to settle in your muscles as you lift for the eighth time but you stay focused, keeping the weight balanced on your shoulders as you slowly drop back down.

Sevika is still standing close behind you, her gaze drifting to your ass for a brief second before returning to your face. Her teeth are sinking into her lower lip, causing her labret piercing to stick out further—she's definitely enjoying this.

As you approach the tenth rep, your legs are shaking just a little under the pressure. You can feel the sweat beading on your brow, your breath coming out in short, shallow grunts.

Sevika steps even closer, her prosthetic moving to brace against the small of your back, holding you in place. The pressure she applies only increases the burn.

"Come on, one more," she whispers in your ear. "You can do it."

The verbal and physical support gives you a small burst of adrenaline which is enough to help you complete the last rep. With the final push, you rise to your full height and re-rack the bar before stepping out from under it, chest heaving as you catch your breath. Sevika steps out from behind you with her hands braced on her hips.

"Not bad," she praises. "You didn't drop the weight or fall on your ass."

You let out a half-smile, catching your breath before you respond.

"I told you I could do it," you say, wiping your brow with the edge of your sleeve.

Sevika is looking you up and down now, her gaze lingering on how your shirt has started to cling to the sweat on your chest.

"Yeah, you're right," she hums. "You did pretty good. How do your legs feel though?"

You shift your weight from side to side, trying to assess the damage.

"Definitely burn a little," you admit. "But it feels good."

Sevika's grin widens.

"Feel like trying the rest of my routine then? Only if you think you can handle it."

Her prosthetic hand rests lightly on your waist as she leans in—close enough that you can smell the faint hint of her sandalwood body wash mixed with her natural scent.

"Bet you can't even finish half of it," she murmurs, narrowed eyes glinting with mischief. "But I would love watching you try."

She taps your chest with two metal fingers.

"You in, or are those shaky legs tapping out already?"

You choke out a noise that resembles a laugh.

"Talking a lot of shit for someone that wouldn't be able to handle mine."

Sevika raises a perfectly arched eyebrow, her gaze dipping. The gesture makes her look like she's sizing you up, a hungry wolf ready to pounce. She steps closer, the toe of her sneaker bumping yours.

"You think you can put me on my ass, babe?"

Her voice dips to a purr, full lips pulling up in a challenging smirk.

"Let's make it a bet, then. We swap leg days and whoever taps out…first buys breakfast."

You cock your head and cross your arms as you consider her proposition.

"Deal. But remember, I'm bulking, so I'm not gonna be a cheap date, Sev."

Sevika throws her head back with a full-bellied laugh that echoes through the gym, several heads turning to look.

"When are you ever?" she chuckles, grabbing her bag and water bottle. "Alright, you're gonna start with Bulgarian split squats, then. Hope you're ready for this."

The two of you move to the area with the floor mats, setting up a bench for you. You watch Sevika as she adjusts the height of it, unable to keep your eyes from drifting to the muscle straining the fabric of her shorts. She takes notice of your wandering gaze before looking away with a half smile.

"You're staring," she teases as she takes a seat on the hip abductor machine next to it.

Now it's your turn to fire back and throw her off her game like she did to you earlier. Leaning in close, you whisper, "'Cause I'm remembering the way you looked when I was putting you through the mattress last night."

Immediately, the woman's smile drops and she looks at you with slightly widened eyes.

Looking forward again, she gulps and mumbles a quiet "Asshole..."

You can't help the cocky grin that spreads across your face as you notice the effect your words have on Sevika. She's trying to keep her composure, but you can tell that she's flustered.

"Having second thoughts there, babe?" you taunt, your voice dropping an octave lower.

She shoots you a glare, though her neck straining gives her away.

"Just shut up and start your damn exercise. 4 sets of 10," she huffs. "Per leg."

Saying nothing else, you move to position yourself on the bench. There's no doubt that you threw her off with your comment, but you still intend to stay focused as you begin.

Balancing your weight, you lift one foot onto the bench, lowering into the stretch in a smooth, controlled motion. Your gaze is fixed forward, even as you're painfully aware of Sevika's eyes on you, taking in every muscle tensing beneath your shirt.

"Good form," she comments, her voice straining as she presses the pads open. The compliment causes a small swell of pride to rise in your chest, pushing you to complete the first set. As you switch legs, you shoot her a quick glance from the corner of your eye.

Sevika is sitting straight up in her seat, her attention still fixed on you. The machine puts the strength of her thighs on full display, making every tendon and muscle even more prominent, and you have to look away in order to refocus.

By the time you finish the second and third set, your breath is coming out in short, sharp bursts, the burn in your hamstrings starting to intensify. You're determined to push through it, however, even with your legs beginning to wobble slightly.

Looking over at Sevika, you feel a wave of smugness when you see that she's struggling as much, if not more than you; her skin is covered in a sheen of sweat, her previously slicked back hair sticking to her forehead in damp strands.

"Don't go easy now, those muscles'll come in handy later," you joke.

She takes a moment to catch her breath before responding, the words coming out gritted and strained.

"Shut. Up."

Despite her best efforts to sound commanding, all you can hear is the way she usually whimpers underneath you and pride swells in your chest.

Sevika glares at you as she forces another rep, her jaw clenched tight. You can practically see the steam coming off her—part exertion, part frustration at your teasing. She exhales sharply when she finishes the set, leaning back against the seat and lifting the bottom of her shirt to wipe her face.

"You're lucky we're in public," she pants, then adds with in a teasing tone, "But just wait 'til we get home."

You barely register what she says. The only thing you're focused on is her rippling abs on full display, glistening and practically begging to be touched.

Her full lips spread into a cocky grin when she catches your gaze lingering, fingers tugging the damp fabric back down just slowly enough to tease.

"Eyes on the prize, baby," she chuckles, jerking her head towards your bench. "You still got one more set—unless you wanna go home early..."

Groaning dramatically, you haul yourself up, shaking out your trembling legs.

"Yeah, I'm sure you'd like that," you mutter, adjusting your stance once again.

Sevika only grins, stretching her arms behind her head to make her muscles flex even more obscenely.

"Damn right I would."

You focus on your form, determined not to let her win. Not here, not when your pride is on the line.

The last set feels like a lifetime as your quads scream in protest with every movement. You grind your teeth and keep your breathing steady, even as your vision starts to swim slightly. The only thing keeping you going is the knowledge that Sevika is watching you, waiting for you to mess up or tap out.

When you complete the last rep, you almost collapse against the bench. Your legs are shaking more now, sweat sliding down your back and soaking the fabric of your shirt, and you're sure your face isn't any better.

Sevika rises from the machine, rolling her shoulders with a satisfied groan as she stretches her arms over her head, the bottom sliver of her torso and happy trail on display as her t-shirt rides up.

"Guess breakfast's on you," she purrs, stepping close enough that you can feel her body heat radiating off her sweat-slicked skin.

Her prosthetic lands on your shoulder with a dull thunk.

"Those shaky legs tell me you're done."

Taking a deep breath, you sit up straight and place a firm hand over your wife's fabric covered torso, feeling the way it tenses under your touch. Looking upwards, you tilt your head and purse your lips slightly.

"I don't remember saying that."

Using your grip on her body to ground you, you stand up and make direct eye contact as you gesture towards the machines across the floor.

"Come on. We're only halfway done."

Sevika's breath catches as you rise to your full height but she quickly regains her composure with a lick of her lips.

"You're crazy if you think you're still going," she counters, one eyebrow arching in challenge.

She doesn't make any effort to remove your hand from her stomach, instead shifting her weight so that it presses it more firmly against her taunt muscles.

"Your legs look ready to give out any second now—"

"Almost doesn't count. Isn't that what you always say?"

Walking away without waiting for a response, you lean down and grab your things before starting to head over to the leg press machine.

Sevika lets out a sharp, bark-like laugh behind you, shaking her head in disbelief.

"Always so damn stubborn," she calls after you, jogging to catch up as you take your place at the leg press.

You end up struggling through that exercise but finish the other woman's usual routine with little complaint, much to her surprise. She watches on from the leg extension, curling her legs with quiet grunts of her own as the two of you are locked in a silent battle.

Once you both finish with those, you gulp down a generous amount of water and look at your wife with a tired smile.

"You done?"

Sevika takes her time catching her breathing before responding. She's definitely more wiped than she'd like to admit, judging by the way her chest rises and falls sharply for several seconds. However, when she looks to you the corner of her lip is curled in a defiant smirk.

"You kiddin' me, pretty boy?" she drawls, leaning against her hand as she sits on the edge of the seat. "Don't even think about quitting on me now. Not when your ass is on the line."

"Remember you said that," you huff.

Getting up to your feet, you clean up your area and wipe down the machine before looking at the other woman.

"Let's settle this with a race then."

"A race?" she laughs. "What are we, five?"

"Then it shouldn't take much to beat me…huh, handsome?"

Going for her looks is a weak move and you both know it, but it always works.

"Oh, you're just trying to soften me up, now," Sevika breathes. "But if you insist on getting your ass handed to you, who am I to say no?"

Hook, line, and sinker.

You bite back a laugh, knowing she's completely fallen for the bait. It's almost too easy; she's always been weak for your cheesy flirting.

Sevika rolls her eyes, trying to regain her composure and play it cool.

"Let's go then."

Moving towards the treadmills, each of you grab a machine next to each other before stretching again. Turning towards the woman, you clear your throat and stick a hand out in her direction.

"We'll build up to ten miles an hour and whoever taps out first, loses. Sound fair?"

Sevika takes your hand, gripping it firmly before giving it a small squeeze and sending you a wink.

"Sounds perfect."

After a quick countdown and some adjustment of the treadmills, you're both set. Sevika's focus is entirely on the screen in front of her but you can still sense the competitive energy radiating off of her in waves.

Once the belt reaches seven miles an hour, she shoots a glance at you.

"You're lookin' a little tired there. Feeling okay?"

You smirk despite your burning lungs, tapping the speed up to 8 mph.

"Oh I'm just getting started, sweetheart. Worried you're the one who can't keep up?"

Your wife's lips part to let out a quick huff before matching your pace effortlessly. She leans slightly forward, gray eyes glinting with challenge.

"Please. I could do this all day."

The treadmills click to 9 mph. Sweat drips down your temples as your calves scream. Sevika's breathing is ragged now too, her white shirt soaked through across her shoulders, but neither of you will tap first.

10 mph hits like a truck. Sevika grits her teeth, her small ponytail bouncing behind her as she digs deep. You watch through your peripheral vision as her fists pump harder than ever.

One last taunt slips past your panting lips.

"Still... think... I'm... cute... when I'm tired?"

She doesn't even respond—all of her strength is going towards trying to keep her legs from collapsing. Sevika didn't admit it, but your routine was more intense than she thought, and she's definitely feeling it now.

After a couple more minutes, Sevika's legs finally give out—she stumbles forward with a gasp before quickly turning down the speed until it hits zero. The treadmill slows to a halt as she doubles over, hands on her knees, gulping in air like she's drowning.

Through wheezing breaths, she lifts her head just enough to glare at you, sweaty hair sticking to her face.

"Damn it," she pants, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

You slow your treadmill to a stop then, grinning as smug as ever.

"Told you," you tease between heavy breaths. "I don't...tap out."

Sevika flips you off with a metal finger, but there's no real heat behind it—just exhaustion and begrudging admiration.

"Breakfast...better be...fucking amazing."

You let out a shaky laugh, your smile wide and satisfied. You're winded, sweat-soaked, and you can already tell you'll be aching tomorrow, but beating your wife in a useless competition has you feeling above all of that.

"Oh, it will be. 'Cause you're paying for it," you manage to respond, reaching over to pat her ass playfully.

Sevika grumbles as she straightens out, her legs quivering slightly.

"Don't remind me."

You shake your head as you step off the treadmill, offering a hand to your wife and helping her step down too. She takes it weakly, holding on a little longer than necessary as she leans on you for a moment. Her pride is wounded, you can tell, but you're not one to miss a chance to tease her.

"Guess I did end up putting you on your ass," you murmur, wrapping an arm around her waist.

Sevika scowls, swatting your chest with her prosthetic.

“Shut up,” she huffs, but she doesn’t pull away from your grip, letting you steady her as her legs tremble.

After a beat, she tilts her head to smirk at you, sweat still glistening on her neck.

“But I bet you can't carry me to the car.”

You groan dramatically but tighten your hold, already calculating the logistics of fireman-carrying your very muscular, very smug wife through the parking lot. After deciding the chances of both of you making it to the car in one piece that way is slim, you shake your head.

"I'm not even gonna try that."

Sevika snorts out a laugh that devolves into a cough as she doubles over again.

"Yeah, that's smart," she manages between shaky breaths.

Grabbing both of your bags, you re-wrap your arm around her waist and give her a gentle squeeze.

"Let's go."

The two of you hobble awkwardly towards the parking lot: you with your arm around Sevika's waist and hers slung over your shoulder for support. The looks you receive are a mix of amusement and incredulity as you both stumble past.

Despite all the sweat and exhaustion, Sevika somehow remains her usual cocky self, flashing a cheeky grin for anyone who dares to stare.

Finally reaching your car, you unlock it with your free hand and open the passenger door as you step aside for your wife to get in, but she leans in close instead.

"Never thought I'd be the one having the trouble walking," Sevika murmurs in your ear, her breath hot on your neck.

"Alright, perv," you smile. "Just get in."

Sevika winks before collapsing into the passenger seat, a soft grunt escaping her when her muscles protest the movement.

You shut the door and toss the bags into the backseat before climbing into the driver's side. The car engine roars to life and cool air floods the vehicle as you turn on the air-conditioning. The two of you sit back in your seats with sighs of exhaustion, sweat cooling on your skin.

"My legs burn like a bitch," Sevika groans, head tilted back against the seat.

Cracking your neck, you place a hand on her thigh and rub the sore muscles there, causing the woman to groan.

"That's what happens when you try to go against me, baby."

"Whatever," she grumbles, though her hand comes to rest on yours, pressing it more firmly against her thigh. Sevika closes her eyes and focuses on the way you move your thumb in circles, the touch a welcome distraction from the ache in her legs.

Seeing a bead of sweat drip down her neck into her shirt, you realize your plans might need to change.

"Babe, we gotta go home and shower first, there's no fucking way we can go out to eat like this."

One gray eye cracks open and looks at you before an exaggerated sigh fills the car.

"Fine," Sevika drags out. "Even though I'm literally starving."

"Always the drama queen," you chuckle.

Sliding a hand around the back of her neck, you look at your wife as she fully turns to face you.

"A shower does sound nice, right..."

She nods in agreement before slowly leaning in and bumping your nose with hers.

"It does..."

Her lips capture yours in a slow kiss, too tired to put in any more effort than that, but you're still satisfied.

The moment lingers, lazy and sweet despite the protesting burn in your muscles and the dried sweat sticking to your skin. When you finally pull back, Sevika hums contentedly, her eyes still closed as she rests her forehead against yours.

"Alright," she murmurs, her voice rough with exhaustion. "Home, then shower."

Her prosthetic moves to rest on your upper thigh, dangerously close to the seam of your pants.

"And maybe a little something else while we're in there..."

Your breath catches at her touch and implication.

"Mm," you hum, flexing your hand against her thigh. "And here I thought you were starving."

Sevika leans in closer, her husky voice dropping to a whisper.

"I have a big appetite."

Rolling your eyes goodnaturedly, Sevika giggles at her own joke and you peck her lips once more before intertwining your hands and bringing it to your mouth for a soft kiss to the back of it.

"Oh, I know you do."

Shifting into drive and pulling out of your parking spot, you head down the familiar road home, sighing quietly as the morning breeze rushes past.