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After a couple rounds of Sun Salutations, Virgil was standing there in a safe little corner of the gym (he much preferred independent practice over joining classes, too many people). Both of his feet rooted to the mat below him, as he awaited further guidance.
“As you inhale, place your hands in prayer position at the chest, finding your center.”
He took a deep breath, doing just that.
“While we’re in Mountain Pose, shift your weight onto your left foot. Exhale.”
He continued along, listening to the instructor in his earbuds.
“On your next in-breath, raise your right knee forward and up. Take a moment to rotate your lifted foot one way and then the other.”
Her voice familiar and comforting. A good start in easing some of that feeling of his guts twisting up from stress.
“Be careful not to lock out in your left knee, keep that soft bend. Now, keeping your left hand to the chest to stay steady, reach for your right ankle with your right hand. Exhale.”
Virgil wobbled a bit, working through feelings of anxiety he had from work today. A full shopping cart ISN’T for the express check-out line, how many times was he going to put up with-
“Inhale. Slowly, slowly guide your right foot to rest against your left thigh. Opposing forces, press the foot and thigh together actively. You are strong.”
Whatever. He got this. This is the only thing that matters, right then.
“Draw your hands back up to the chest, invitation to raise your arms up high and take up space on your next exhale. Don’t worry if you fall, we’ll catch you!”
He loved practicing the tree pose whenever the nerves got to be too much. It was relaxing, because he had to just focus on the present moment, unless he wanted to f-
“BOO!”
THAT gave him a start, immediately about ready to punch something. Before that could happen, he was met with a familiar cackling.
He broke out of the pose abruptly and with barely any grace, pulling down one of his earbuds, “What the FUCK, Remus!?”
Remus was standing behind him and to the side, huffing, “I wanted to show you something!”
Virgil shook his head, knowing who the hell he was talking to, “Maybe later, Rat King. I gotta chill the fuck out, right now.”
Remus just started to pout at him in a way he could only compare to his brother, Roman. His eyes wide and shiny, his lips trembling, his hands clasped together pleadingly. What a gods damned dramatic baby. Virgil acquiesced, exasperated, “WHAT.”
Remus bounced and clapped a bit, excitedly. Virgil couldn’t help but be endeared by Remus’s antics, knowing full well how much of a brat he could be. Virgil rubbed his temple, “Before you show me whatever it is, how many Monsters have you had today?”
“… 3?”
It was barely noon and a wonder that Remus hasn’t keeled over from a heart attack at this point. Remus always looked like he dragged himself up from the grave, he already knew it best not to ask just how much sleep his boyfriend was running on.
Also frankly, they both knew it’d be hypocritical. Pot and kettle and all that. Virgil chewed on his lip a little and sighed, “… okay, I’m on can number two right now.”
Remus waggled his eyebrows before Virgil realized where the juvenile hell he took that, “Dammit Remus, you and I both know I’m not running on enough sleep for this shit!”
Remus pretended to be guiltless, gasping and pulling a hand over his mouth, “I have no idea what you’re talking about, Stormcloud.”
Virgil sighed again, “Cut to the chase already!”
“Alright, alright, alright-”
They heard Patton quip in the background, leisurely peddling on a nearby exercise bike, “Hey, ya kiddos stay cool over there!”
Virgil groaned, and Remus snorted.
Remus clapped his hands again and rag-dolled his way back down to the floor in front of Virgil. Virgil laughed, “You’re such a weirdo.”
“Butt; I’m YOUR weirdo”, Remus emphasized that with his swaying hips.
Virgil was definitely blushing in spite of himself at this point. Before he could make another remark, Remus just started to do some bridges, pointedly thrusting his hips up in Virgil’s direction.
Virgil tried to look unimpressed. He was failing miserably.
Remus grunting with his every movement and staring back up at him with half-lidded eyes only flustered the emo more. Remus joked, talking in between reps, “Whaaat? Can’t a guy. Work his back. And butt without. Getting stared at?”
“Oooh, you don’t get to play innocent with me.”
Remus stopped in the up position, “Want to fight about it?”
Virgil chuckled darkly, “Oh-hohoho… you’re ON.”
-
They had relocated to the gym’s fighting ring.
Virgil felt his second… third(?) wind come in, out of excitement here.
Remus chuckled, “You know, I was kind of hoping that I could make you eat shit when I shook your tree. Maybe knock out a tooth. A little nosebleed… oh, that would be hot.”
Virgil cracked his knuckles and popped his back, loosening himself up, “Oh, really now?”
The two of them were geared up with some protective padding. Between the two of them, not very much, this was just for fun. Remus often flirted with more danger than Virgil did, by wearing less protection overall. Remus bounced a little to warm up and Virgil prodded, “Did you remember your mouth guard, at least?”
Remus dangled the neon green, glittery device in front of Virgil with a smile, “And miss being able to bite you every now and then? What do you take me for!”
Virgil snorted, “Rules? The usual?”
“WHO the HELL am I talking to here, let’s dance already!”
“You’re lucky I also consider this stress relief! I think I was one shitty customer away from an assault charge this week!”
With that, Virgil put his own guard in. (It was a dark purple thing with streaks of black, totally his aesthetic.)
Virgil readied his stance and gave a gesture that could only mean, “Bring it on.”
Virgil and Remus, unlike other partnerships in their motley crew, didn’t really stick to any particular style. This was more fun to both of them, even if Roman would call it uncouth. Honestly, Roman would call them uncouth for practically any reason. But he wasn’t here right now, just the over-stressed emo and his fellow insomniac of a boyfriend ready to throw-down.
They usually started off with playful taunts (which included Remus shaking his ass in front of Virgil, forcing him to see his shorts had “JUICY” sloppily printed on it, vibrant chartreuse on black). They then commenced with stand-up work.
Remus somewhat predictably went for the offensive first – feinting for jabs toward Virgil's “pretty face” and getting him twitchy. Everything about Remus’s move set was jittery and erratic.
Virgil loved how it forced him to just stay focused in the moment, much like balancing on one foot does. He can’t afford to let the mind wander off to his service job woes or other personal angst. His breathing grew very steady, bouncing, bobbing, and bracing for contact. Defensive posturing.
Remus being a southpaw would be a greater challenge if Virgil didn’t learn the ropes from training with him. Finally a bit more variety, some cross punches thrown into the mix. Remus was a speedy one, so finding that opening would take precise-
Ah, there it is, Remus wound up for a right hook, toward Virgil’s gut. Virgil deftly weaved away from it and went for an uppercut. Remus jumped back before it could connect.
Now that they stood further away from each other, it was time for some kicks to get thrown into it, too. Virgil was taller by a few inches, so he had a small advantage at this range. He went for a side kick, right into Remus’s left thigh.
Remus was just a little rattled and unsteady, shaking his head. He smiled with his eyes, of course V would go for his weaker leg. It took him seconds to recompose, not before flipping double birds at him. Virgil snorted at that reaction.
Virgil started kicking some more. A few rapid double side kicks, inching closer and closer. Before planting and going for a powerful high turning kick to the right side of Remus’s chest. That landed hard enough to make Remus dramatically yelp (though it wasn’t that bad), “Going for THE TITS, huh!?”
Remus wasn’t deterred. That proclamation distracted Virgil just enough to close back in. Time to give V a taste of his own medicine.
Let’s just say Virgil was glad he always wore a cup. It wasn’t pleasant, but it could be so much worse.
After a bit of knocked wind and a good scowl, Virgil charged in for a grapple. In a blink of an eye, Virgil turned and managed to get enough leverage to throw Remus into the ground over his shoulder.
There was an audible “OOF”, upon impact.
Virgil almost winced, almost. The two of them had built up enough trust to not seriously hurt each other (honestly, neither would be able to live with themselves, if it came to that), but Remus winked back up at his Stormcloud to reassure him that he still had plenty of fight left in him.
Things eventually devolved into exhausted floor-fighting, heavy breathing and laughing about it as they ran out of adrenaline to keep moving.
Once the imaginary bell rang, they were lying on their backs, sprawled out and next to each other. They popped out their mouth guards and just started laughing their asses off. Both of them flinching a little at new tender spots they inflicted on each other – they knew they were going to have a few bruises later.
They were pretty sure if there were any witnesses, they looked like they lost it.
That didn’t matter. They never kept score.
Virgil rolled to face Remus and spoke up, “Thanks.”
“Thanks, back”, Remus pointed at his own head, both of them knowing what that meant.
It was very much “blink and miss it”, but Remus turned to sneak a quick peck on Virgil’s cheek. Just a soft touch and a quick brush against that patchy mustache of his.
As he pulled back, Remus wore a certain bashful expression that he rarely shared with people, he was adorable like this, “Love ya.”
Virgil couldn’t help but smile back, “Me too… dork.”
-
Thankfully, nobody else wanted access to the ring, that day.
They just happily sighed and lay there for who knows how long before somebody shouted for them. It was Roman.
“HEY. It’s getting late, guys. You demented lovebirds need a ride home?”
Remus couldn’t help but whine, “Can’t you see we were having a moment here!?”
Virgil joked, a mix of blissed out and delirious, “Yeah, give us a case of the boo balls, why don’t you? Huh!?”
Remus sputtered at that, fond of seeing his own gutter-brained influence.
Roman turned fire-hydrant red and practically squawked back, “But – you two don’t… you know what!? I’m not going to think about that right now. I am done! I'm done here! I am done with all of you!”
Virgil and Remus couldn’t help but snicker as Roman dramatically turned on his heel to leave them to their devices.
