Summary: A girl, a gym and yoga all tie Dean in knots
The drill: I own nothing that Kripke has touched.
Thanks: To Big Pink and all her pinkness, Without her there would be no periods, commas or semi-colons.
The extra bits: This story came about in fits and starts...Mostly fits. I must warn anyone looking for angst that it will not be found here.
Admit it your dying to know how the Hell Dean Winchester ended up in a Yoga class...I'll tell you.
Easy enough 40 minutes on the treadmill, gradual incline, jog…I've got my Nano strapped to my arm. Don't want a repeat of the great treadmill spill of 2005, tailbones don't heal quickly.
God, why do they insist on sports and the Real World on the overhead TVs? Five minutes in and I'm already bored.
Eyes scan the large room: sweaty old men in the midst of a middle age crisis, girls trying to squeeze themselves into tank tops they've got no right wearing. They must, they must, increase their busts…..Only a boob jobs gonna do that, honey.
Eventually I look over to the entranceway; something interesting has caught my eye. I watch two guys walk in. From the distance I can tell they are having some sort of heated discussion, the dark haired one is a giraffe, tall and gangly, but I certainly wouldn't throw him out of bed for eating crackers. The other one has his back to me, but he's got a nice ass. Both of them are gesturing angrily, and then abruptly they both wave the other off and head in the opposite direction. Hmmm…Must be love.
Shorter guy isn't really all that short as he walks in front of me. Eyes low and obviously grumbling to himself, I see his lips moving but all I hear is Mike Doughty singing about Smashing up a Starbucks. I look across the room for dark haired boy and I see him, he is all but echoing his friend's movements and I have no doubt they are probably each cursing the other. Tall boy takes off towards the weight room out of my line of sight. Less tall is also out of my view. I sigh, the end of my entertainment.
Fifteen minutes in, I notice movement to my left and I glance to see a pair of worn out Adidas step on to the treadmill next to mine. Now nice ass is stabbing at the buttons on the machine like he's going to bully it into working. I take pity and without losing my stride I reach over and hit the reset button, then point to the speed set and the start buttons. I see he says "thank you," I smile and point to the plugs in my ears: Iggy Pop is going on about Lust for Life. I look forward again…maybe this won't be so boring after all.
Twenty minutes in I steal a glance at cute guy, man he's built. Oh, I totally just caught him checking that girl's ass out! Crap, I must have made a sound of some sort; I can't hear myself with the music blasting in my ears. I caught his attention…damn. He knows what I'm thinking. I take another look, his smile has gone feral. Jesus, he's on the hunt. Why do guys insist on trying to pick up women at the gym or the grocery store? I roll my eyes and pick up my pace. He picks up speed as well.
I'm so NOT getting sucked into this game...I stare forward but can't help the smirk. Damn, I'm sucked in. He's picking up speed and I won't be outdone. I match his pace and raise him an incline. HA! He fumbles with the buttons but he's matching me step for step and incline as well.
Ten minutes left, cake; not a full out run but my heart rate is at peak, and my limbs are warmed up. I spare a glance to my left. He's comfortable, barely breaking a sweat. His t-shirt fits well, I always like guys in plain gray shirts. He smirks and speeds up a notch. I throw him a glare and speed up. I'm not gonna be beat by a boy….
OK maintaining that speed for the last five minutes almost killed me, he's barely breathing hard…Jerk.
I grab my towel and my water, smile at him, and can see the look of disappointment on his face that our game is over. Oh well, it was fun while it lasted. I gulp my water and head off towards my class. The endurance contest took most of the wind out of my sails and I almost think about skipping it this week. I'm contemplating my next move when Oh my God, here he comes…With this look of anything you can do I can do better written on his face.
Why that arrogant bastard! It's like the grown up version of pulling a girls pigtails. Taking my iPod off my arm I throw it in my bag. Wrest my shoes off and look at him. He shrugs his shoulders and raised his eyebrow then follows suit. OK now I'm pissed. I grab a mat and find a place toward the front, and damn it he's settled to my right, eyebrows arched daring me to say something…Nope not gonna do it.
I'm not going to be pleasant. Beautiful green hazel eyes have no effect on me, I want to smack that glint out of his eye. That smart alec look has got to go.
I look at the people filtering in. It's a good indication of how class is gonna go. Housewives testing the waters and the elderly mean slow and easy. Steady as she goes. Push up bras, and matching outfits piss the teacher off so it's everyone for themselves, hang on tight and we'll all get out alive, with a slightly stoned feeling but alive.
There's a good mix of both not too easy but my ass won't be handed to me. Thank the Gods.
Rocky to my right is bouncing on the balls of his feet and stretching his neck. What? He's getting ready for a sparring match? Wrong class, that one is on Tuesdays.
The instructor walks in as cheery and perky as ever. Cuts right to the chase, dives right in. Music starts eastern Indian drums. Hangs his head, obviously not a fan.
Step to the edge of the mat warm on my feet, hands together focus on my intentions. I open one eye look to my right he looks right back….Bring it on.
Focus….Hand his head to him on a platter. Cocky smile, he thinks this is gonna be easy? He's in shape, that's plain enough to see. Nice arms and I know he can run like a greyhound, that's probably a better description for his friend. This guy is more of a Jack Russell -- annoying and quick. Maybe he knows what he's walking into.
.Plank, the up part of a push up. Head towards chest, chin down. Cobra. Into up facing dog, look up, Easy. The first time up to… Down facing dog. All weight held up on the arms hold for five long breaths….Down dog down! First verse same as the first, second and third. Arms burning. Think about the breathing, in and out through my nose.
Quick peek. His smile gone, holding his own. That's just the warm up. We are already pretty warmed up to begin with.
Chair pose, and he scoffs, I scowl.
Dude, don't mess with my groove…Too late.
Face the back mirror legs open wide edge to edge of the mat, navel tucked. Yup his ass is still damn cute. I catch his eye in the mirror…What's that look? Oh I know I've seen it before. It's, what have I gotten myself into. He's all muscle tight and sinew not flexible…This is fun.
Down to business, the meat of the matter. Shoulders over pelvis. Arms out shoulder height. Tilt to one side palm on thigh other arm straight up. Slide hand down to ankle then floor other arm up look at my thumb. Check my neighbor, ignore my thumb. His shirt has slipped to show his back, Butterflies in my stomach…concentrate. His hand makes it to his knee…count to five long breaths. Switch sides not as easy on my left, neither for him. The blood is draining from his arm. He shakes it, muscles tighten.
Hands on hips, he's glaring at me in the mirror, lips tight to make a straight line. I shrug my shoulders…So not my fault.
Next up, a lunge one leg then the other. He seems distracted looking through the window that makes up one whole wall. Oh his friend…I wave he looks confused and walks off out of sight again.
Next up Warrior Triangle bent over knee lean forward. Exhale completely…
"Easy" he mutters. I know what's next.
Legs out Triangle fold forward as far as you can go. Head and chest hang in place. Drop head to the floor. Mister man tumbles forward. Graceful, NOT. I snort Graceful, NOT.
Jokes on me. He stands up; my ass is right there…Great, at least he's not laughing.
Got to redeem myself. My head is soo not in this class, just go with it.
One more plank, down dog down! Upward Dog mush!
I'll give him credit he hasn't ducked out yet…I really thought he would for sure. Doesn't seem like the yoga type.
Sitting bring one leg over the other let the sole sit firmly on the floor, sit bones on the floor. Tailbone is not happy. Sit up straight, twist from lower spine toward raised leg. Bring arm in front of leg. To reach back and grab other wrist feel the twist with each exhale.
"Oh you've got to be kidding me." He's looking at me askance. I'm not saying one word. The instructor tries to help him out, but gives up.
Cow face pose, he flat out refuses, looking out the window wall again, Giraffe is back and he's laughing. Oh Mr. Yoga master shows his buddy the sign for 'bird'. It is love isn't it?
Bow pose laying flat on belly grab ankles and pull man pull! Arch up feet will one day touch head. He mutters about how fucking wrong that is. My back cracks.
Back up balance is power, and tying yourself in knots is fun.
Tree pose standing on one leg other foot resting on thigh, like a stork. He does it but he's too cool to press his palms together, His heads not in the game. No focal point; too busy checking out what I'm doing. Darn there goes his balance. I'm not concentrating I feel my ankle wobble, but I won't drop the pose…Dignity is at stake and I won't be beat, not at this game. Standing forward bend, I'm proud that I can bend from my middle and touch my forehead to my shins…I know he's impressed…Cocky? Damn straight.
One more pose, but first one more time just for good measure, Down dog, up dog…Now roll over. Bridge start from back; hands behind head, feet shoulder distance apart now push up arms burn, back cracks again. Down…again…Kills me everytime. Too hard to pay attention to guy, but I hear him grunt and say no way. Almost done the light at the end of the tunnel, but I'm not going to share that with him.
They really need a better name for this, do we really need a pose called corpse? Legs sprawled arms akimbo…drifting…tune out…relax. Who am I kidding I'm fidgety and twitching…
Well that was an hour well spent. To my right quick glance he's diggin' the corpse, in fact he's got it down….He asleep?
Roll to my side with the all clear. Rise when you're ready…Good class everyone.. Mood light gone, I flinch at the brightness of the florescent bulbs. He hasn't moved a muscle.
That wasn't a snore? No way, inch just a tad too close, I swear that wasn't….OW! That shit, Pulled….MY….PIGTAIL!
Laugh all you want Mister Man. School my emotions don't give him the satisfaction. Calmly get up my victory oh so short lived. Grab my bag and my shoes to the locker rooms with me.
Outside the locker room, Hey there's big guy! Still wouldn't throw him out of bed no matter what he was eating. That's because the poor guy would be genuinely hungry. I'm sure he's a bottomless pit. His friend, the puller of pigtails (real mature). I'd throw him right out…He'd be eating crackers just annoy me.
Closer, closer. Oh look it's the meeting of the minds. The two of them seemed to have kissed and made up.
Why'd they have to be standing there… The Barbies checkin' them out. I think I heard the dinner bell. The gym's such a meat market…Speaking of I've gotta stop and get milk. Won't have as much fun at the store, can guarantee it.
Down I go, damn can't go around them, can't go over them…Gotta go through them. I'm prepared...One two three, try the sneaky approach…..Otherwise known as eavesdropping.
"Dean, man yoga to pick up a girl, that's a new low for you." All the snark and laughter rolled into one.
He gets a slap in the stomach for that remark…Don't laugh, sneaky remember.
"It wasn't like that, dude. I just…..It was fun." Funny he doesn't seem like that type to ever be at a lost for words. I can feel the evil glint in my eye.
Gotta go through without a word, careful now don't blow it…I smile put my hand out, a peace offering, that's right sucker. Take what's offered a piece of paper with numbers. He smiles….NO! No melting! You are stronger than that, your not a simpering girl that falls to goo at the first glance of those luscious lips. Nice strong handshake head held high…Get the hell out.
My car, made it. Off to get that damn milk, where does it go? Rest of my life….Cell phone rings…unknown caller.
It can't be anyone else, quick check of the review mirror sure enough there he is, phone to his ear scooping out the parking lot…Flip open the phone --
"I win." Is all I say