Work Text:
As Lucy pushed through the glass doors, she silently cursed herself. Why had she taken that stupid bet? Why was she even honoring the terms of said bet? Why was she awake so early? She squinted against the bright fluorescent lights that lit the place like the noon sun. There were so many people around. There were people who looked like amazons and Spartans encouraging all manner of folk as they lifted dumbbells, squatted, or ran suicides across the room.
She felt so awkward. She just stood close to the front desk; her backpack slung over one shoulder. When had she last stepped foot in a gym again? Oh right, when Joy had dragged her to that CrossFit gym Ealing. The place where she had nearly passed out during the warm-up while an older man in booty shorts and a muscle tank had yelled at her to pick it up.
“Hello.”
Lucy looked over at the desk to see an older man, perhaps in his fifties, wearing sweats and a branded t-shirt standing at the desk.
“Can I help you this morning.?”
She stepped closer, anxiety bubbling in her gut.
“Yes, my name's Lucy Carlyle. I booked an introductory session with Anthony for 7am.”
The man smiled, his eyes sparkling with mischief.
“Welcome in Ms. Carlyle. Anthony is finishing up with another client. If you'd like to put your backpack away, I could show you to the women's locker room.”
Lucy shifted from foot to foot. Her gaze darted over the floor again.
“Yes, please. If it's not too much trouble.”
The older man chuckled. “No trouble at all. My next client isn't due in for a few more minutes.”
He stepped out from behind the desk and led Lucy towards the back of the space. Two corridors lead out of the main room. A little pictogram of a woman pointed left, while its matching male pictogram pointed right. Lucy stepped into the woman's locker room to deposit her backpack in one of the secured areas and fill her water bottle.
When she stepped back out the old man was talking to a balding man as they walked over to a rowing machine. Lucy wasn’t sure what to do. She didn't know which of the people in the gym was Anthony. She found a bench set off to one side and sat. She sipped her water and checked the time on her watch.
“Hello…” A posh voice pulled Lucy's attention to a young man standing off to her right. “Are you here for an introductory session?” He looked like someone she would want for a live drawing class. He had a strong jawline and cheekbones that would catch light beautifully. He wore a pair of black basketball shorts and a branded muscle tank. She tried not to drool as her gaze swept over the sculpted lines of his shoulders and biceps.
“Oh yes… are you, Anthony?” Lucy stood, extending her hand for a shake.
The man chuckled as he took her hand. “I'm Anthony Lockwood. Though I prefer to be called Lockwood.”
“I'm Lucy Carlyle.”
“Pleasure. Shall we head over there?” he pointed to the corner of the gym where a round table and some chairs were set up. Lucy nodded.
“How did you find Sykes Fitness?” She almost missed the question as they walked. Her attention was firmly on the way the muscles on his sides moved as he walked. Perhaps he would be open to trade: training for a portrait or something. It had been a while since she'd drawn people, and he would be a perfect subject.
“Oh, my friend found this place on the London Fitness App.”
Lockwood answered with a little ah as he pulled a chair out for her. There was a clipboard and a pen on the table top.
“To start off with, what are you looking to do with personal training? What are your goals?”
Lucy tried to think of something to say. “Um… I don't know actually.”
Lockwood seemed a bit taken aback. “Were you thinking general health, getting stronger, improving cardio? Anything really just to get us started?”
“Maybe just general health? I have a sort of physical job.”
Lockwood smiled as he jotted something down on the clipboard. “What do you do for work?”
“I'm a fine art conservator.”
Lockwood looked surprised. “So, a lot of bending and lifting coupled with a lot of sitting?”
“I have coworkers to help with the lifting if something’s awkward, but cans of solvent and solution can get heavy.”
“Alright, so we'll try to focus on general health and a little bit of strength then. Any injuries that I'd need to know about.”
He fixed his gaze on her. Lucy shivered under its weight. “Not that I can think of. I not exactly sporty.”
He gave her a reassuring smile. “Are you looking for anything specific in a trainer? Just want to make sure we're a good fit for each other. If not, I can recommend one of the trainers.”
“Its hard to say. I don't appreciate being talked down to or yelled at.”
“So more encouraging, less drill sergeant?” Lucy nodded.
“We can make that happen. I do find the methods you mentioned particularly motivating for most people. Do you prefer circuits or one-and-done?”
Lucy blinked. Lockwood must have caught on that she was confused as he clarified almost immediately.
“If you were doing a workout, do you want to do everything one time and be done, or rotate through the exercises several times.”
Lucy shrugged. “I honestly don't know. I've never really done something like this before. I'm normally a star jumps in my bedroom person.”
“We'll try both then. Any exercises you absolutely hate?”
“Burpees.” The word tumbled from her mouth without much thought. Lockwood chuckled.
“Anything else?”
It took Lucy a bit longer to think through the other things the HITT workout app on her phone had her do. “I'm not the biggest fan of caterpillars or…bollocks...I don't remember what they're called. Could I show you?”
The hand holding Lockwood's pen flipped palm up in a be my guest gesture. Lucy stood, rolled her shoulders back, and dropped to her hands and knees. Once she got comfortable, she found tabletop position. She counted down in her head. Three. Two. One. She rose onto her rose, knees hovering about an inch above the floor. Her hands flexed against the gym floor. Her abs contracted to hold herself in that position. Then very carefully she reached one hand out in front of her body. She breathed out returning the hand to the floor then lifted the other.
“Ahhh. Bear Reaches. Is it just the bear position in general? Or this specific movement.”
Lucy dropped back to her knees panting. “The position.”
Lockwood tapped the pen against his lips, drawing her gaze to them. They were perfectly bow-shaped and plump contracting with the thinness of his face. The little voice in the back of her mind casually pondered what they would like after a good snog. The pen fell to the paper making a note.
“Any diet issues that we might want to address, or nutrition coaching?”
Lucy frowned. She tried to eat healthy, she really did but there was something about the ease of grabbing a takeaway after a long day of being bent over a painting. That didn't even begin to mention that she was a terrible cook. Her roommate had accused her of trying to poison him the one time she'd attempted mac and cheese, from a box.
“I'd rather not talk about that stuff.”
Lockwood nodded sympathetically. “That brings us to our last question before we get into a short workout. I've got a bit of availability what’s your schedule look like? How often were you wanting to come in and when?”
Lucy sighed heavily. “Mornings would probably work best. My work can be…unpredictable. So, I can't commit to afternoons or evenings. Two days a week maybe? I'm not sure what seems reasonable to start. I don't even remember how much these sessions cost.”
“We can do 30-, 45,60- and 90-minute sessions.” Lockwood pulled out his phone navigating to the app as he did.
“I find that if you're just starting out thirty to forty-five minutes two to three times a year is doable. The sessions get a little cheaper the longer they are. Thirty minutes is thirty founds, forty-five is Forty pounds…”
“Don't tell me. Sixty minutes is fifty-two pounds and ninety minutes is eighty?”
“Not exactly what you get the idea.”
Lucy tried to do the math in her head. If she cut back on curry takeaways and fancy coffees she could swing a hundred pounds a week for a little while. Perhaps her roommate would be willing to chip in to avoid hearing her curse doing star jumps at 6am in their tiny flat.
“If you could fit me in thirty or forty-five minutes, that would work for me.”
Lockwood's long finger tapped his phone. “I have openings at 630am, and 7am for 30 or 45 minutes.”
“How about we start at 7am for thirty minutes and we can go longer once I get used to it?”
A few more taps and Lockwood's gaze returned to Lucy.
“Perfect. Now, that small workout. Let's start with a quick warm-up.” Lockwood led Lucy over to a stationary bicycle.
“We'll be here for two minutes, then meet me over there.” He pointed to a metal monstrosity with many knobs, and attachments. A bench lay in the middle of the assembly. Lucy nodded as she swung herself over the bike. She settled into the seat trying to get comfortable. Her feet found the pedals and began to pump. She played around with the positioning of her hands on the handlebars as she watched the timer count up.
After the prescribed two minutes, Lucy dismounted. Her legs wobbled a little as she walked towards Lockwood. He stood beside the hulking metal assembly, a tablet in hand. He smiled at her as she grew closer.
“How did that feel?”
“Fine, much easier than learning to ride a bike.”
“Ready for the next thing” Lucy nodded.
“Relax Lucy. We aren’t going to do anything terribly difficult today. Just a little get-to-know-you. It gives me a starting point for how to structure and arrange your workout program. Now that you’re warm, we’ll start the real work with some squats. If I asked you to do squats right now, how many do you think you could do? Without stopping?”
Lucy shrugged. “I’ve done a hundred squat challenge before. I could barely walk the next, but I can do it.”
“Oh…” Lockwood stepped towards a tower of dumbbells. He picked up the two lightest from the top.
“Rack the weights at your shoulders. Shoulders down, chest up.”
Lucy lifted the weights with a little grunt. Her shoulders rolled back. She moved her feet out slightly and then inhaled as she sank down. She hissed as she stood back up.
“Good, but…” Lockwood bit his lip as he tried to find the right words. “Would it be alright if I touched you? Sometimes feeling the right positioning is easier than trying to verbally explain it.”
“Ok.” Lucy readied herself for the next rep. Lockwood stepped behind her. She could feel his presence. It was unnerving. Then came the feather-light touches that seemed to sear into her. Lockwood gently manipulated Lucy’s position. He squared her hips more than she thought possible. His foot moved between hers to tap the left foot. She widened her stance.
“Go slow this time, breathe in as you do.” Lucy sank into the squat. As she moved Lockwood’s fingers brushed over her back and shoulders. His voice followed the touches with words. This time she sank a little lower.
“Good. Now exhale and push up.”
Lucy’s hissed as she pushed. “That’s it.”
They worked through the following four reps the same way. It made Lucy’s skin itch in a way she wasn’t used to. From squats, they moved to bench presses with the same small weights. Then came a set of bent-over rows. The set of exercises finished with dead bugs that had Lucy cursing as her abs strained.
“We’ll do those same things two more times and cool down.”
“That’s it?” Lucy’s voice was filled with confusion.
“Just for today. It was an introductory session remember. We talked and did some basic movements. It's all a foundation that we’ll build from session to session. Now back to it.”
Lucy huffed as she assumed the appropriate stance for a squat.
**
When they were finally done, Lucy thanked Lockwood, picked up her water bottle, and began to turn toward the locker room. There were showers in their lockers that she’d have to keep in mind for later.
“Hey, Lucy. One second before you run off. We need to figure out the next session.”
She turned back to Lockwood.
“Sorry. I was just in a little bit of a rush. Have to work in…” she checked her watch. “Twenty minutes and want to shower so my poor coworkers don’t smell me.”
“Here,” he tapped on his phone and passed it to her. The add contract screen stared back at her. She typed in her name and phone number and then handed the device back.
“Thanks. I'll text you in a bit. My next client starts in about five minutes. Enjoy your shower. The pressure is excellent.”
Lucy shot an awkward ‘see ya’ his way as Lockwood focused on his phone.
The shower stalls were spacious, and the water pressure was miles better than the tiny cubicle in her apartment. There were even unisex toiletries sitting in a metal holder along a wall.
When she emerged Lockwood's attention was focused on a man with a mass of dark curls and glasses. They seemed to be sparing each other. Each man held a long thin stick in front of their bodies. It was like they were dancing. She stood there for a moment utterly transfixed until her phone began to beep. She had ten minutes to make it to work.
Fuck. Maybe if she was lucky old man Gibson would be poorly that morning and not notice her slipping into the workroom a few minutes past time.
**
Lucy was midway through carefully swiping a cleaning solution over the face of some seventeenth-century French noblewoman when her earbuds stopped playing the horror podcast she was listening to. She lifted the cotton swab off the painting, moving it to a paper towel on the table.
“Text message received from Unknown.” The AI voice always unnerved Lucy. The gentle American voice without accent or effect was harder to understand than the voice actors and hosts of the things she normally listened to. Skull had been telling her to turn the thing off. It was a simple enough switch to flip. She just hadn't.
Her podcast restarted after a few seconds. The harrowing story of a girl traversing a haunted manor filled her ears. Lucy sighed and stretched.
Her back popped and crackled. Her muscles were already beginning to feel the effects of the short workout that morning. Perhaps she was in need of a tea break.
Before she could go, Lucy pulled a clean cotton swab from the pile to her left. She carefully daubed at spot where she'd applied the cleaning solution until she was sure none remained on the fragile paint.
Only then did she pulled her phone from her pocket.
Lucy bit her lip as she saved his contact then replied.
Lucy went back to work. Her podcast kept her company as she cleaned the portrait. She silently cursed the 19th-century idiot who’d restored the painting before her. They’d use a varnish that made her life miserable. When she took her next break, she realized Lockwood had sent her a final text in their little exchange.
Lockwood (Trainer): Looking forward to it. Already got the workout drafted. Hope you like deadlifts, ;)