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Killian had never missed a single Leg Day in her life. Nor had she missed an Arm Day, a Peg Leg Day, an Eternal Soul Day, or a Fatblasting Cardio Day, for that matter. She'd been pressing iron since she was a little orclet, and since then she'd spent much of her life sweating it out in some corner of the gym.
Originally it had been just a hobby, something to do in the long hours she had to herself. Nothing could clear her head like exercise—the pumping of blood, fresh sweat running down her body, lactic acid burning as her muscles shredded and grew stronger; all of it helped to ground her when everything else seemed out of control. She couldn't control her mother's temper, or her annoying little siblings, or the way her heart fluttered whenever she looked at her sister-in-law Syara, so instead she worked on her body.
By the time Killian was nineteen —a considerable age for an orc—her body was in peak condition. Men would often give her a hearty slap on the back and compliment her on her gainz and women(more excitingly) would sometimes flirtatiously squeeze her biceps and ask if she could carry them. Despite all this, she'd never been particularly successful in the dating realm, so on The Day it Happened she was, as per usual, doing reps in the gym with her boys.
The boys being Avi, lovable jock and most steadfast of Bros; Johan, who didn't actually seem to be there for the gainz like the rest of them, opting tended to just sit around morosely practising on the violin; and more recently: Taako, local useless twink, and Magnus.
It was on this fateful day that they happened to be standing around watching Taako rather fruitlessly attempt to bench press three pounds, with Magnus spotting and the rest offering emotional support. Well, except for Johan. All he had to offer was the enlightening statement, "Even if you DO somehow manage to turn from a useless twink to a werewolfesque hunk, will any of it make a difference in the grand scheme of things? In the end your gainz will mean nothing, lost to the sands of time."
"Oh, please," Killian hissed. "If you're going to say stuff like that, can you just play Sad Violin Music elsewhere?"
Johan gave her a doleful look and played one sharp note on his tiny violin.
"The name of that song," he replied pitifully. "Is Sad Romance."
"What the FUCK." Taako collapsed and let the bar bell fall back down against his chest, a quick move from Magnus saving him from crushing himself. "I am seriously considering just glamouring myself to look like a Big Tiddy Goth BF instead of having to do it the normie way."
"But then you won't get the satisfaction of knowing you worked hard to get those results," Magnus chided. "Come on, you can do this. Just imagine how you'll feel when you look in the mirror and see the big buff boy you've always wanted to be looking back at you." He gave a gaptoothed grin and stood up, leaving Taako to struggle off of the bench.
"Actually, I'd be pretty content if the big buff boy were my boyfriend and not me," Taako groaned. "Being a useless twink sounds great if I never have to enter one of these fucking torture chambers again."
Magnus ignored him, turning instead to speak to the rest of them.
"You guys in for a bit of kettlebell training today?" he asked, but Killian was already looking away from her friends.
She'd just noticed a girl, a slippery little dragonborn, jogging contentedly on a treadmill across the gym. She was slight even for a dragonborn, who're not particularly hefty folks, but there was something in her easy movement that suggested hidden strength.
Killian watched, faintly awestruck, as the reptilian girl turned up the speed of the treadmill and began to run faster, her confident strides turning into an elegant canter.
That was one of the best parts about going to the gym– girlwatching. Not in a creepy, leering way like a thick-browed Chad who can't keep his eyes off the ladies in yoga pants, but in silent appreciation for the endless beauty of girls and how overwhelmingly gay they made Killian feel. Bright eyes, strong limbs, tucking hair behind ears or running a hand over shining scales. It sometimes left Killian a bit dizzy, and always way too offkilter to ever actually say anything to the cute girls she sometimes admired from a distance.
As she watched, the dragonborn glanced in her direction, and for a second their eyes locked. Sapphire dragon eyes twinkled back at her, and the girl offered Killian a small smile.
Then the moment suddenly shattered as the distracted girl shot off the end of the treadmill and crashed into a stationary bike behind her, causing such a clatter that everyone in the room must've been looking in her direction.
"Killian? Bro?"
Killian turned to see Avi placing a concerned hand on her shoulder.
"You okay?"
"Oh– Ah– It's just– That cute girl just fell off a treadmill!"
Avi glanced over Killian's shoulder. "Oh yeah, don't worry about her, fam. Magnus rushed right over there to make sure she was okay. Look, he's helping her up now."
Indeed, Killian watched as her big friend helped the slender girl to her feet, him smiling and reassuring while she offered a stream of thank yous and apologies for making such a racket. For a bitter second Killian thought she should be the one with her hand on the dragonborn's shoulder, smiling down at her while she blushed and thanked her — but it was her fault for not taking the initiative. Again.
That night, Killian lay in bed, scrolling mindlessly on her phone. Taako seemed to be having baking troubles but also had a new boyfriend. Avi had posted yet another strangely homoerotic progress pic of him pulling down the waist of his boxers in order to reveal maximum amounts of muscle, captioned only with “Grindin’💯. Magnus was being wholesome and large, as per usual. In other words, everyone seemed to be living their best life. Everyone except for Johan, who only posted poorly lit videos of him playing song covers and crying in such low resolution he would be better off recording on a rusty frying pan.
She tapped on her own profile. Last post: three months ago. Of course. There was nothing in her life worthy of posting about, unless she wanted to be one of those twisted fucking cycle paths that took pictures of their food like they were documenting it for posterity after civilisation had collapsed and the survivors searched for answers from the past. Go to work.Come home. Mix protein shake. Gym with the lads. Come home. Shower. Eat dinner. Look at her phone for an hour. Sleep. God, she needed something to happen to her.
For a moment Killian recalled the girl in the gym, the brief second their eyes met before she had sailed off the treadmill. When she had considered doing something. If she had actually gone over and helped that girl up, would things be different now? Maybe she could’ve gotten a number, and instead of watching Johan wail I’m Not Okay she could be texting a cute girl. There was a reason the people they made movies about were the ones who had nerve and motivation, not boring gym rats who couldn’t even look at a girl without feeling overwhelmed.
Killian put her phone down and settled in. When she finally fell asleep, she dreamed of pretty girls and swords and lying in the grass on a sunny day.
The next time she saw the girl was at the gym three days later, this time over at the free weights. She watched the Dragonborn do a couple of hammer curls before the other woman looked up and they made eye contact in the wall-length mirror, forcing Killian to look away. A time honoured gay flirting technique, that. Staring intensely at the laces of her tennis shoes until she made her way to the rowing machine, Killian made sure to not look over in the girl’s direction again. She worked harder at the machine than usual, hoping to drown out her anxiety with sweat. The rush of endorphins made everything just a little bit better as she stared at the opposite wall and pumped her arms. Adrenaline drowned out her surroundings to the point that when a cold hand touched her shoulder, it took her a few seconds to react.
“Hey, sorry to bother you. Can I ask you a favour?”
Killian looked up into the yellow eyes of the Dragonborn, completely dumbstruck. Her mouth hung open slightly. A girl. A girl was talking to her. A CUTE girl.
Said girl licked her eye nervously. Reptile things. It was kinda endearing.
“I can go if you want…” she said, turning to leave. Killian suddenly regained her ability to speak.
“Um! No! I can — You — “ she stammered. The Dragonborn paused, looking to her hopefully. “I can help you,” she finally managed to get out.
The girl’s scaly tail swished happily.
“Oh, thank you. I was just wondering if you can spot for me. I’m new to this gym and I really wanna try out some of the equipment, but I haven’t gotten around to it because I didn’t wanna ask…” She gestured a clawed hand at one of the sweaty gym bros stalking past them. “I would prefer to have someone that is mentally capable of spotting for a girl doing squats in yoga pants without having an aneurysm.”
Killian, although decidedly not a creepy gym bro, still wasn’t entirely sure if she could handle that either. The girl must have seen some of this in Killian’s expression, because her tail lashed in an arch manner and she bared her teeth.
“Or at least someone who would be able to appreciate it a bit more.”
“Of — of course,” Killian replied, her cheeks flushing emerald. “I totally get it. It sucks to be the only girl at the gym.”
The girl laughed. “And some of us gals aren’t seven feet of rippling muscle, either. You’re lucky that you’re the same size of some of these meatheads. What I’d give to have a body like that, man...” She blinked her clear eyelids and smiled at Killian. “I’m Carey. Carey Fangbattle.”
“Killian,” Killian managed to reply. “I, uh, don’t have a last name.”
“Would you like one?” Carey asked. “I could lend you mine.”
“That’s — “ Killian, began, before seeing Carey’s expression and realising what she was suggesting. Why did she suddenly become so slow whenever she talked to girls. Her face burned. “That’s a little fast for me. We should probably go to dinner first. Or at least workout.”
Carey shook her head. “Sorry. Mush-brain moment. You know how it is, you see a girl you’re into and two weeks later you’ve adopted five dogs.”
“Girl...that you’re into…” Killian said, mostly to herself.
“You sound like you’re in shock!” Carey laughed. “Is it really that hard to believe. Yes, I came over here to talk to you because I think you’re cute. Did you forget my fuckup on the treadmill the other day?”
“Happens to the best of us,” Killian muttered.
“I stopped thinking for a moment because I saw a tall woman with the ability to snap me in half like a toothpick. Aka, my ideal woman. And the moment you looked over at me I could feel like Gay Connection.”
Killian started to say several things and kept drawing a blank. “Yeah…Well, you’re really cute, too. I like your...scales. And your tail. I bet it helps you do some sweet flips. Like a cat or something.”
Carey’s frill fanned out around her head with pleasure.
“Hell yeah it does. But hey.” She tapped the rowing machine with the tip of her shoe. “I didn’t come here just to flirt. I actually could really use a spotter. A spotter who is perfectly free to check out my butt if she so pleases.”
Killian smiled awkwardly. This was actually happening. She was still just as much as a useless gay idiot as ever, but a girl was still talking to her! Flirting with her! Wanting to work out with her! She didn’t deserve it, but like hell was she going to pass up this opportunity.
She pushed back her hair and stood up from the machine.
“Of course. Just a moment and I’ll be right there.”