Fitness was not something Emmet ever really kept up with. Sure, he took the Pokémon to the park, ran around with them, and stalked the tunnels of the subway daily, but he didn’t actively work out. Not until Ingo returned with audacity to have tits.
“I am working out.” Emmet announces to Pecha, pacing around the small circular dining table. Pecha looks up from the designs strewn across the table, watching him huff as he kept going and going. “I am working out.”
“You are?” Pecha asks, a soft cock to her head. Emmet pauses to nuzzle his nose into her cheek, making her giggle. “Emmet!”
“I am Emmet.” Emmet confirms, continuing his pacing. “And I am too small. Ingo is beefy. I will be beefy too. Yep.”
Pecha shakes her head. So that’s what all the sudden interest in exercise was about. “Emmet. You’re very handsome.”
“Thank you!” Emmet chirps.
“You don’t have to be beefy, you know?”
“Ah,” Emmet says, shaking a finger like he’s lecturing a confused student, “but Ingo is beefy now.”
“And you’re not Ingo.” Pecha replies. “You don’t have to look exactly like him.”
Emmet merely shrugs, stopping his march once more to show Pecha his xtransceiver. “Look. Workout app.” The small screens do display a heart monitor and a tracker of how long Emmet has been walking. It seems there are other symbols for other workouts to the side. Pecha almost wants to let Emmet be to see if he can manage the one that looks like yoga. “I need my heart to beat fast. It’s healthy.”
“You’ll need to walk faster.” Pecha says with a sigh. Emmet is as stubborn as they come, and this is something healthy. She’ll make sure he doesn’t overdo it too. “Your heartbeat isn’t fast enough.”
Emmet huffs. He sits, seemingly deciding to take a break, and pokes at the veggies he got out from the fridge for a “healthy snack.” Pecha snickers to herself, and looks back at her own work. Briefly, she wonders about designing some workout clothes for Emmet. What would look best? It would also need to be functional. . .
“Pechaaaaa.” Emmet whines, head pressing to her shoulder. Pecha, used to his attention whoring, starts a new sketch for the new ideas she has. “Pechaaaaaa I want kisssesssss.”
“So mean!” Emmet cries, hands up to his eyes as he fakes tears. “No kisses for the hard worker!”
Laughing, Pecha finally sets her pencil down. Emmet, immediately eager, scoots his chair even closer. He starts by peppering Pecha’s smile in kisses, then tilts his head to properly seal their lips together.
It’s warm, soft, nice, just like Pecha is. Emmet leans further into the kiss, happiness fluttering through his veins as he revels in the beautiful life he lives.
The couple jump apart, both looking down to the incessant beeping noise. Emmet’s xtransceiver flashes, showing that Emmet has a concerningly high heart rate.
Flushing bright pink, Emmet slaps the xtransceiver shut, burying his face back in Pecha’s shoulder as she starts to laugh.
“So cute.” Pecha sighs, running her hands through Emmet’s hair. Hopefully he can feel her pulse too, just as quick as his.
“You’re healthy for me.” Emmet grumbles in response, as their heartbeats sync. “Healthy for my heart.”
Pecha kisses his head. Emmet kisses her collar. And they both recover from the runner’s high together.