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The Firm Handshake: Chapter 10.
By OfficeAnon
Chapter 10, Team Building Exercise
“My dick has led me to places I wouldn't go with a gun.”
@MexArmstrung
You hadn’t given it much thought, but as you walked down to the building’s car park it struck you as blindingly obvious that Blackthorn naturally had his own car. You were so used to not having one the concept rarely crossed your mind. It was, as you had predicted, black. It wasn’t a muscle car, or some high-end model worth a million and only available if you got on the waiting list, it was simply a respectable black car.
Oh yes, sure, it was still certainly Blackthorn’s car though. Black faux-leather upholstery, dark grey fabrics on the floors and ceiling, as much legal tinting a window could be given, and shiny dark enamel furniture for the centre console, trimmed with matt black edges. As you swung into the forward passenger seat, the black cardboard air freshener dangled from the reversing mirror on the periphery of your vision (Scent of Darkness by Dáktylos).
‘Do you just melt during the summer?’ you ask him as you both climbed in.
‘Vance, if I can afford heated seats, I can certainly afford air-con,’ his voice had dropped some of professional veneer to allow some self-indulgence to take its place. He clicked it on. The HDG wouldn’t make him drunk, but it would possibly slow his reaction speeds and you both wanted to arrive to the gym in one piece. Fortunately, unlike the office, it didn’t have to be freezing cold for once to negate it.
The ride stirred something you hadn’t expected to feel again. Blackthorn’s car was built to his size, a little larger than normal, yet it made you feel much smaller by comparison. The interior had that newness particular to things that are carefully maintained. Clean air, faint polish, a touch of artificial scent and it carried a kind of domestic gravity you couldn’t quite place. Having another adult beside you, one who meant to look after you in his own way completed the effect. It was the same sensation you remembered from childhood: being driven somewhere you were told you would enjoy, staring out the window and wondering whether that was really true.
You watch the city roll past, but now lower to the ground than a taxi or bus. You were observing it more intimately, especially since there was only one other occupant and you were both behind tinted windows.
Humans had a tendency to bunch together and shut out everything beyond their immediate circle. Many cared little for events beyond their own borders and sometimes not even beyond the village green. Anthros, in contrast, simply lived their own lives between each other’s. It was simple fact that different species and sub-species typically conglomerated into their own microcosms. No-one was immune to racism, classism or any other form of ‘ism’ that could divide people up. They just chose to ignore rather than confront the problem.
You had learned a few snippets about Blackthorn’s boyfriend. He was a horse, like him, named Julian Holt. From what you can remember they had met each other from law school. While Blackthorn had “gone corporate” Julian had become a community advocate. You didn’t really understand what that entailed, but Blackthorn practically swooned each time he said the title.
Community, you understood from your time in work, translated to underpaid and its even worse cousin over worked. Being honest and charitable were rarely profitable. You (personally) couldn’t have afforded to help people.
The distance was short, but rush hour traffic gave time to talk. Blackthorn was better at that than you were, he was, dare you say, a social animal. Normally to get people to open up, you encourage (or let) them to talk about themselves. However, the horse next to you also knew this and got you monologuing.
Your hobbies are mostly ones you’d expect a computer-minded person to like. Games of the video persuasion, activities involving expensive cardboard, and pushing around masterfully painted pieces of plastic. You over represent the social aspect of it. You do – you did – have friends who you would visit and they would in turn to enjoy the hobbies with.
‘But not a lot of outdoors stuff?’ Blackthorn’s voice wasn’t condescending or teasing. To be so was to be less than perfect.
‘Well, I don’t mind a nice walk,’ that was mostly because you didn’t own a car and you had little alternative other than to enjoy it, ‘or visiting some museums or other touristy spots.’
The sudden idea of anthros stuffed haphazardly into classical human artwork was more amusing than it should be.
‘I’ve been to a few museums and art expos. The city has a few, you can imagine. They’re quite nice.’ The fact that he had mentioned the museums outside of anything else implied what you feared the most: Theodore Blackthorn liked Sportsball. ‘But I think Luke plays a few games like yours.’
Oh thank fuck.
‘But what do you do for fun? Sit in a high-backed swivel chair and practice dramatically turning it around?’
‘Very droll, Vance, but no. I go the gym a lot, but you can get a lot done there outside of getting in shape. Like social yoga. On nice days Julian and I do some rowing and sometimes we vegetate on the sofa watching bad T.V.’
He really had it all, and the bastard knew it. This was what having all your ducks in a row looked like.
‘I suppose by the end of this week I’ll be able to see what I can afford to do with those bonuses.’
Blackthorn’s response, when ran through the tint of his smooth voice, gave it more weight than it readily should have had. ‘You don’t have to conform, Vance. Don’t just spend your money to fill in the sudden gaps gained from freedom. In my job I have seen a lot of people come through my door because new-found wealth went to their heads.’
It was a relief to hear it. It had been itching at the back of your brain that you would have to be as intense as he was to thrive.
Were you thriving now? Things were certainly going in an upwards trajectory, so probably. But had you been at the bottom of the rut for too long that normal seemed…exciting? Such concepts were hard to articulate to yourself.
The gym came into view. A building that had probably once been for some dull but longstanding business. It still kept the fancy external façade but the new-age logo it wore over it didn’t fit nicely.
Blackthorn clearly had the premium option, because he had reserved parking. You then also learned his boyfriend did too, because it was a space directly adjacent to it.
Naturally, you had pondered the sort of person Julian had to be to catch Theodore’s eye. Everything you had seen so far about the horse had one singular theme.
However, the muted yellow car next to you had the same effect as whacking your funny bone did. Every bit of you suddenly went ‘That ain’t right.’
Julian Holt had arrived before you both, and was reading a small paperback in the driver’s seat. The vehicle was entirely nondescript; it blended in with the tens of others seamlessly. Julian could have been another face in the crowd himself. He had some distinguishing features, sure, a mostly brown hide with errant splashes of white like someone had thrown a paint can at him for example. The dirty-blonde eye-covering bangs gave him a hint of mystery, except they weren’t particularly styled enough to hide much. He wasn’t some skinny twink, or effeminately pear-shaped, or even a muscle-bound god. He was all just so…normal. His clothes were nice, probably on the higher end and clean.
You wore inoffensive clothes; Julian simply just wore clothes.
For you, another horse stepped out of a car, smiling at seeing you both as he did so. On the other hand, you could tell Blackthorn was perceiving an entirely reality from you.
You could almost hear it, Tchaikovsky’s Romeo and Juliet Love Theme, would be playing in his mind. Julian would be moving in slow motion, hair caught in a localized breeze, the edges of his vision blurring and melting away. This wasn’t a car park, it was some flowery meadow perfect to run towards each other in. There would be cherubs holding silk somewhere.
You had known envy, that was a common companion at times. You were part of the Have Nots and wanted to Have things the Others Had. This novel return of jealousy was not scheduled for today. This job was really bringing out all of your emotions for a test ride, wasn’t it?
You stamp on jealousy’s fingers and kick it back down into the abyss. You knew Blackthorn had a boyfriend, you were only jealous because Julian seemed so incredibly obtainable you had immediately measured yourself against it and couldn’t figure out what you were missing.
Vance, you dunce. It’s been four days and they’ve known each other for years. You douse yourself in a healthy splash of perspective before opening your mouth and extending your hand to shake the newcomer’s own.
‘Vance! Theo’s said so much about you. Don’t worry, I know all about your,’ he gestured broadly at you trying to find the right word that didn’t imply you were infectious or deformed, ‘gift.’
Theodore nudged Julian in the ribs with an elbow. ‘A gift that keeps on giving, eh?’
‘Oh, quit it Theo,’ his expression meets yours again, double checking whether he should switch to a more PG age rating, ‘but it was a nice surprise.’
‘It’s fine, really.’ You realise that since the both of them are taller than you the next hour or so was going to strain your neck. ‘How much did Theodore tell you about it all?’
Julian leaned in conspiratorially, putting on a stage whisper. ‘Let’s just say before this week he never sucked me off with quite as much enthusiasm.’
You make eye contact with Blackthorn when you reply, matching the whisper ‘Poor guy needed a few lessons.’
Three chuckles danced around each other as you all walked in.
You had privately said to yourself that you wouldn’t perv on other gym goers. Or, at the very least, not openly goggle. Just because you didn’t attend didn’t mean you suddenly lost all your manners when you did.
It had to be said there was an odd lovableness to watching the two horses get changed in front of one another. They both politely averted their gaze while also snatching glances at each other when they thought the other wasn’t looking. Sure, there were others in the room too, attractive or otherwise, but observing them was something else entirely.
Julian’s gear was like yours, minus the sports trainers, naturally. He did slide on some temporary rubber horse shoes, which made sense. Hooves, you knew, could deal some serious damage. They were white rubber ones, well worn.
You didn’t have to see what Blackthorn put on. For all intents and purposes the living silhouette simply changed shape around the edges.
They hadn’t been wrong. Every gym had the same overpowering smell of sweat, but this one had a layer of keratin shavings to replace the undertones of feet as compared to a human gym.
Most everything else was the same however. Such as shelves containing free-range weights, as opposed to their battery-farmed cousins trapped in the machines of bent metal. Everything was encased in rubber and foam. The only major difference was a sort of permanent ladder and selection of heavy horizontal bars for the mostly naked avians to get some safe flying in.
You suspected you might be disrupting a routine between the two equines, but couldn’t figure out if this was a pleasant distraction or just a regular distraction. They stood either side of you as you all selected a section of running machines. You walked places, sometimes you had to run for things. It had been an age since you ran in sports clothing. It was oddly liberating, you had become so accustom to the minute restrictions of everyday wear that the freedom you got from your basic shorts and plain shirt felt like cheating.
It was also easier to run when someone else was doing it with you in a friendly capacity. Sure, their stride was much longer, from height and physiology, but it wasn’t a competition. You all knew you’d be slower.
Thump-thump-thump-thump. You find a speed you can maintain. Thump-thump-thump-thump. Your feet get the rhythm under control.
The committee are quietening down, half of them are now dedicated to governing your internal engine for the first time in a long time. There’s talks about mixing some dopamine in later.
Thump-thump-thump-thump. Actually, you can see the benefits. You probably won’t enjoy the actual work you’re doing, but stilling the mind is good for now.
Thump-thump-thump-thump.
A hot minute later the committee engineering team tapped a gauge with a finger. ‘Probably should have filled her up before we set out,’ was the report. A part of you wanted to stubbornly run until exhaustion, but self-mastery was never an instant thing. You click the machine to a slower setting.
Julian’s face was forward, focused on his own exercise, but he certainly heard the machine beep as you poked it into a lower gear. ‘Hey, that’s a pretty good start. Theo said you hadn’t been to a gym before.’
You draw in some air. ‘Only once or twice a long time ago,’ you had to recover some dignity.
‘I’m sure that human endurance will put us to shame after a month or two.’ He meant it sincerely; Blackthorn snickered at the obvious double entendre. ‘Be glad you’re over there, mister, otherwise I’d tan your hide!’
Blackthorn stuck out his tongue for a moment, a flash of pink like a firework in the night sky. ‘Don’t worry Vance,’ his tone was a reassuring velvet ‘exercise is done in sets. Plenty of rest stops for us all to recover with.’
At your reduced pace, you are able to take stock of the wildlife. Every body shape is on display here. Sure, what some of them are doing is erotic in your eyes, but it’s not pornographic. Even so, exercise keeps blood elsewhere as a safety measure.
You watch things flex and constrict on them all. Steam rolled off larger anthros into the ceiling. Much of the grunting was coming from unappealing faces of intense concentration attached to very appealing bodies. The positions people put themselves in was amusingly compromising. You are well aware that in a moment that would be you in those poses, no doubt even more ungainly in aspect, but you had to get your licks in while you could.
Blackthorn leant over and prodded a button on your machine a few times.
‘It’ll spare your knees.’
As the angle on the machine changes, so too did the pressure on you. You are unsure if it will, but at this point it was all a matter of trust.
Your eyes flick to either side, you could at least sneak peeks at the two horses without guilt or shame. Both moved with their own charms. Theodore Blackthorn’s backside was a study in fluidity. He ran effortless and floaty, hips moving in gentle sine waves.
Julian seemed simply adept at the exercise. However, when he reached forward and took a sip from his water bottle his arm and head didn’t spill a drop. This seemed easy at first glance. You considered attempting to replicate the action as you began to realise a quick sip would be nice, but instead swiftly discovered how much your body was just doing its own thing instead.
You decided to pause for a moment rather than awkwardly spill water down your front. It wasn’t like you were uncoordinated, you just never had attempted to drink water at a running pace before. The two actions had never needed to be done simultaneously in your world previously. You get back on, and pick up the pace again. You allow your mind to clear again and passively enjoy the two buttocks that are putting on a show.
It soon became apparent why Blackthorn liked the gym. As you adjusted the weights to something lighter than he or Julian had lifted, you came to the conclusion that it was very hard to lie here. You could either move the weight, or you could not. If you could, for how long or many? A boast could be tested instantly. Truth reigned supreme.
As the three of you rotated turns on the device, you had time enough to engage in some investigative conversation.
‘So how did you two actually meet?’ you ask, partly to fill the silence, partly because you're genuinely curious how the stars had aligned. ‘Law school…? Theodore mentioned, but that's not much of a story.’
Julian and Blackthorn exchange a look – the kind that says ‘you tell it’ ‘no you tell it’ in the span of a second.
‘We hated each other,’ Julian says cheerfully. He continued pumping the machine effortlessly.
‘That's not-’ Theodore starts.
‘We absolutely hated each other,’ Julian continues, grinning. ‘First year, we were in the same study group. Theo here thought he knew everything-’
‘I did know everything,’ Blackthorn protests, but he's smiling, white teeth sneaking out.
‘See? This is what I had to deal with. Except back then, he wasn't joking. I was also so mean back then, but I was right. Three weeks after I called him out in front of the lecture group, he comes up to me with this grumpy little face-’
Blackthorn buried his face in one hand dramatically at this.
‘But he came up to me and do you know what he said? He said I was right. Oh, how his face twisted but he admitted it. I was about to gloat, of course, I had beaten Theodore Blackthorn, who argued with the lecturer-’
‘He was wrong all the time!’
‘He was wrong once. But either way, suddenly I felt really bad. I had only called him out to embarrass him, but he came back and meant every last word from the bottom of his heart. I saw it then, behind the grumpy little face, that he valued the truth, like I did.’
The two switched places, Blackthorn took up control of the machine.
‘Vance here spent a solid afternoon on a hefty spreadsheet for me,’ Blackthorn began, also easily shifting the weight. ‘He likes finding the truth too.’
‘Oh, is that so?’
‘Well, it’s what I was hired to do,’ you begin to explain ‘aside, you know.’ They nodded sagely. Nothing stopped you from yelling about the gene, but only an idiot would do that. ‘I don’t search for the truth, I think I just stop it hiding. Sometimes people overcomplicate things-’
Did your eyes deceive you, or was that Scott Droving doing squats on the far side of the studio hall? The two horses follow your sightline; Blackthorn sees him too.
‘Oh look, it’s Droving. You mentioned him earlier, didn’t you, Vance?’
‘Yes, he grilled me in the meeting. Tested me, I mean. Best not bother him now.’
Then you made eye contact over the now weirdly vast distance across the room. It was him, he knew it was you. He gave a single polite nod in acknowledgement and then set his shoulders under a squat rack.
You can only nod back. To go over there was to perish instantly. It would cause all your social reputation juice to drain out of you and cause you to shrivel up like a socially inept raisin.
There is time only to see him do a single squat before the others would see you staring. You make it count.
It was like watching some highly oiled and gleaming steam locomotive pull out of a station. Slow, sure, but certain and steady. A mechanical confluence of practicality and strength that came together to form beauty. You watch him squat down and then slowly rise back up at the same pace. All of him in balance. You could see every mechanism work. Even the salacious ones.
‘I think he likes me,’ you say, turning your attention back to the horses.
‘Unlikely, Scott used to be called stone-face. But you never know.’
It was your turn on the machine. You broke line of sight with him at that point, and didn’t see him again when you got back up.
‘That’s the rottweiler from the meeting?’ Julian asks.
‘The one who tested him,’ Theodore confirms. There's something in his tone that smacks of amusement.
‘Ah,’ Julian nods again, in a way that suggests he understands something you don't.
‘What?’
‘Nothing,’ they both say in casual unison.
The allure you feel from what you cannot see about someone’s body is one of nature’s many tricks. You know what was under there, or at least had a good idea, but every time your brain suggested it could be a secret new thing. It’s what drove people to undress each other. Why food could smell better than it tasted. It was potential.
The frosted glass obscured the forms of those inside them so they become almost unpersoned. What was a thing for modesty also now functioned as a means of depravity. Coloured smears in the glass, the almost shapes of creatures touched themselves to rid their flesh of their filth, not knowing they were simply creating more to those outside.
It only stopped when you stepped into your own shower and ultimately joined with the whole.
You had sweated, you had ached, you now felt oddly invigorated. Before, you exercised in unplanned bursts, to catch a bus or to run to a shop. This had got to every part of you, but had done so equally. Your body delivered on its promise of dopamine, just a little to make you go back.
Normally you let your mind wander in the shower. But it had done that for the past hour and so was left unsure what to do with itself. The committee was not providing any input. Was this what a clear mind was like? What normal, boring people had access to all the time? You could get so much done in here! It was unreal.
You indulge in thinking about your slovenly hobbies. You felt you could do so guilt-free for this moment, having earned the right to do so. You scrub yourself clean, even giving the idea of imagining negativity to be scrubbed away with it a go. You didn’t feel like it was working, but then again maybe it needed a few attempts to dislodge it. You didn’t want to fill Blackthorn’s car with more HDG than necessary anyway.
You return to your locker, underwear and towel in tow. Blackthorn and Julian are likewise attired. They looked at each other, then at you, leaning against each other.
‘Wanna come back to ours?’ Julian asked, his eyebrow doing a lot of heavy lifting with that question.
‘I can give you a ride into work tomorrow?’ offered Blackthorn, flashing his teeth with the perfect smile.
You had suspected, and somewhat hoped, this would happen. You had passed Julian’s ‘vibe’ test, and without the gene’s direct help. It was hard to say no to when they both only had a fresh-out-of-the-shower look and a towel and were very clearly tensing their freshly flexed muscles.
There was no need to be coy about it. You agree.
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