Dan buddy, yoga and meditation instructor spock and bones going because someone makes him?
Grumbling didn’t work. Promising to eat better didn’t work. Swearing up and down that he would take it easy at the hospital didn’t work. Swearing in general didn’t work. In the end, it was Jim’s face that finally pushed Leonard over the edge. The way he pouted when he said, “Bones, you really need to take care of yourself. For me?”
And goddammit, he was a doctor! He knew how to take care of himself! So what if he imbibed too often and frequently forgot to eat? So what if he worked himself half to death and forsook sleep? He took his vitamins. But the sad kicked-puppy dog look on his friend’s face forced him down to the store to buy a pair of bright blue spandex yoga pants and a matching yoga mat. He muttered under his breath the entire drive to the yoga studio.
Leonard wasn’t normally a yoga kind of guy. He’d never been very flexible and much preferred a quick jog around the park–something outside, where he could see green things growing. But Dr. M’Benga had given him a coupon for the place along with a stern scolding that he needed to unwind, so he figured he might as well check it out. He had ten free visits and he planned to make the best of them.
The studio was a drab little building that appeared to have been recently painted the color of cement. Inside was nicer, all wood paneling and soft silk drapes, although there were no overhead lights in the lobby. The only light emanated from three bright white string-lights and a glowing rock in each corner. There was a young boy with a stunning helmet of hair filing his nails behind the desk.
The boy glanced up. “Hello,” he said in a disinterested Russian accent. “You’re new. You here for a class?”
“Er, yes.” Leonard stepped forward and flashed his coupon. “I checked the online schedule and saw that there was one in a few minutes.”
“The fal-kov,” the boy confirmed. He took the coupon and punched out a square and then went back to filing his nails. “The non-member changing room is to your left, and the studio is on the second floor. Elevator is beside the changing room if you prefer that to stairs.”
Leonard nodded and hastened to the changing room. He got out of his tired scrubs and struggled into the spandex tights, annoyed by how tightly they clung. They caught on the hairs of his legs. Once dressed he tossed the wrapping off his new mat and climbed the stairs.
There were already people gathered and stretching. Leonard unfurled his mat in the corner, as far away from the front as possible. He didn’t want anyone looking at him. He stood there, uncertain, until a tall slender Vulcan man walked in alongside a short, round woman with long, tightly-coiled black hair. The Vulcan was wearing black yoga pants and a cropped yellow t-shirt that revealed his slightly furry belly.
The woman had a bucket of water bottles and she handed one out to everyone in the room. Leonard accepted it politely and gave her his best winning smile, but she only arched her brow in return. She went and had a hushed conversation with the Vulcan man and Leonard swore they looked his way. He thought maybe it was his nerves getting to him, but then the Vulcan looked directly at him with a piercing black gaze and raised one angled eyebrow.
The woman left and the man stood at the front of the room and unfurled his mat. He introduced himself as Instructor Spock and said they would begin when the room reached the proper temperature.
Immediately, Leonard began to sweat.
He thought it was his residual awkwardness at the new situation, but then he really began to sweat. The temperature in the room seemed to double and it was like they were piping water into the very air itself. Leonard struggled to breathe, but Spock and the others seemed unaffected. Spock had an excuse–he was Vulcan–but the humans in the room must just have been crazy.
“The temperature is now optimal,” Spock said, his voice rich and resonant in the thick air of the studio. “Begin standing, ankles together.”
Leonard hastened to catch up with what everyone else seemed to implicitly know how to do. He followed along as Spock demonstrated from the front of the room how to stand and slowly lift one’s hands to the air. Leonard found his gaze drifting a little south, to Spock’s flat stomach. He jerked his gaze upwards again.
It didn’t seem very difficult at first, and then quite suddenly it got impossible. Spock made them balance haphazardly and stick their legs out at odd angles and lean dramatically to the side. Occasionally, Spock came out into the room and readjusted one of the students. Leonard was feeling headstrong now and refused to stop even though he was already feeling tired and hot and sweaty. He guzzled about half his bottle of water in the first ten minutes and sweat began to bead on his brow and run down into his eyes.
His feet were wet and kept sticking to the mat. His shirt clung to his shoulders. But dammit, he was going to do this. He’d show that Vulcan that all his skeptical eyebrow raising was ill-informed. He was perfectly capable of–ah!–stretching in these…weird…uncomfortable poses. He winced as his back let out a shout of distress. He let out a breath and held the pose. Spock came from the front of the room and stood behind Leonard, gently resting a hand on his shoulder. Spock only pushed him a half-a-centimeter but suddenly the tension went out of Leonard’s body and his back relaxed. He blinked a confused thank you, but Spock did not respond.
Spock was up at the front looking utterly unruffled, though most of the humans in the room were now huffing and puffing. Leonard figured they had to be at least half-way done–it felt like they’d been at this for hours–so he drank the rest of his water and mopped the sweat from his brow. Spock had them all stand on one leg and then, mercifully, they could lay down. Leonard felt like taking a nap but Spock didn’t let up for a second.
They lifted legs, shoulders, bodies in time to Spock’s meditative voice. Leonard did find it soothing, and at some point his brain stopped registering his discomfort. He moved through the series of poses not without effort, but certainly without thought. He moved where Spock guided him. Twice more Spock came to his mat and helped him enter the pose required, his long hands shockingly cool and dry in the oppressive heat of the room.
Finally, they knelt. Spock told them to breathe and they did so. Leonard felt his eyes close automatically. Breathe in, Spock said. Out. Feel the heat of the room. Moisture in the air. The center of your body striving for water. Breathe in. Out. Feel.
He opened his eyes sometime later and saw that most of the students had already left. A few hung out by the door, chatting.
There was a bottle of water hovering near him.
He took it, looking up at Spock with embarrassment. “Thanks,” he muttered.
“It is no difficulty,” Spock said. He stood with his hands folded behind his back as Leonard tried not to drown himself in his haste to drink. He hadn’t realized just how thirsty he was, but now that he had water he realized he was light-headed with dehydration. “You did well for your first session.”
Leonard frowned. “How do you know this was my first time?”
“I know all the students,” Spock said patiently. “We are a small studio. Also your…expression as the room began to heat was quite telling.”
Leonard chuckled. “I guess I didn’t exactly know what I was getting myself into.” He tried to stand up and realized his legs were jelly. He swiped a hand over his brow, disgusted at the sweat still clinging there.
“If you wish—” Spock cut himself off, glancing towards the door. “There is a shower area normally reserved for studio members. I would give you access today.”
“That bad, huh?” Leonard said, hoping he didn’t stink. Wasn’t there something about Vulcans and a superior sense of smell? “I sure could use it. Thanks.”
Spock nodded and looked away politely as Leonard struggled to his feet. Spock lead him to a door tucked away on the ground floor and opened it with a key card. Inside were rows of lockers and two students chatting as they changed. Leonard gave a wave to Spock in thanks and went straight for the showers.
The water was exquisite. Amazing how different water could feel pouring down his throat or over his body, rather than clinging heavy in the air. He let the water run over him and rested his head against the cool tile wall, thinking that maybe everyone had been right. A little exercise never hurt anybody. He felt good. Energized.
He found towels in a pile and put on his street clothes. When he left he saw no one until he got to the lobby, where Spock was sitting on a wooden bench reading a book with a pair of black thick-rimmed glasses perched on his nose. He’d changed into a regular long-sleeve shirt that covered his midriff. A real disappointment for Leonard.
He glanced up as Leonard entered.
“Did you…” Leonard trailed off, not wanting to ask if Spock had waited up for him.
Spock rose. His ring finger fell between the pages of his book, saving his spot. “The studio closed. I remained behind to lock up.”
“Sorry, I didn’t realize I had taken so long.”
“It is no trouble.” Spock’s face was soft. “I also intended to tell you that tomorrow you will feel quite different than you do now. There is a certain euphoria after exercise that will fade to exhaustion tomorrow.”
“I know that.” He smirked. “The human body’s no mystery to me, Spock. I’m a doctor by day.”
“I see.” Spock seemed honestly interested. “In two days time I will hold another class. You should attend.”
Leonard laughed, caught off guard by Spock’s forthrightness. “I’ll do that.”
Spock gestured Leonard out and locked up the studio. Leonard hesitated on the sidewalk in the cool night air, feeling like he should say something else. He wasn’t sure what.
“I did not get your name,” Spock said.
“It’s Leonard. Leonard McCoy.” He almost stuck out his hand before remembering Vulcans preferred not to touch. But then, Spock had been touching him plenty during the class. Maybe it was different in that hot space.
Spock nodded and Leonard realized suddenly that his eyes weren’t black, as he’d thought at first. They were a deep, rich brown. Quite inquisitive. “I bid you good night, Doctor McCoy.”
“Just Leonard, please,” he said, and smiled. “Doctor McCoy was my father.”
Spock didn’t seem to get the joke but his face softened anyway. “Good night, Leonard.”
Leonard left into the night feeling lighthearted. He bounced in time to the song dancing through his head, not caring at all that tomorrow he would awake sore and tired, cursing Vulcans and their overheated yoga classes. He knew he’d still be back in two day’s time to unfurl his mat at the front of the room.
Yoga is always better with a buddy. Thanks for getting me off my butt and flowing with me @hannah_mcneely. Tag your yoga buddy 😉
Flow with me every damn day at ThrivingPlantBased.com
🎶 Blank and Jones, Nuits Blanches
Summary: Raeka gives Ryder a private thank you for saving Ark Paarchero. Honestly this is a PWP. My attempts to keep them IC are limited to Ryder’s perpetual awkwardness and Raeka’s talent for straightforwardness.
Word Count: 4769
♥︎ Many thanks to @shionch for proof-reading and editing this!
Have been trying to do everything to get my back to stop hurting and the more I pick up Miya the more it kills me. So today is a mommy and me yoga day with my little purple hair princess and please don’t ask how it happened.
Partner Yoga with my best friend @ruel.galinato . It’s been awhile since we’ve hung out together. Had a fun time chilling at the park, and chatting about and practicing some yoga poses as well.
Considering the impact Jane Austen has on our daily lives as women (all my ladies who independent, throw your hands up at me!), I am very much surprised that we’ve not yet coined a term for John Willoughby.
Seriously, we’re all about the Darcy this and the Darcy that - and trust me I get that more than anyone. We all want a Darcy. Darcy is a Mantra. Darcy is repeated to such an extent that Colin Firth begins to morph into Fitzwilliam Darcy in our mind and its really a coin toss as to whether its Firth or Darcy fighting with Daniel Cleaver or struggling with a speech impediment as the King of England.
Wanting to end up with a Darcy is just as normal and predictable as wanting to be able to stuff your face and never get fat and have Beyoncé as your yoga buddy. Scratch that, you probably wouldn’t even do yoga if you could never get fat. But I digress…
We all want a Darcy (give or take) but the truth is most of us fall on Willoughby’s (she said with a scowl and a growl). We fall on a seemingly good-intentioned, well-read, well-versed schmoozer who reveals his sensitive side without giving away any of his mystique. We confide in him, we trust him, we begin to feel ALL OF THE FEELS and invest in his airs and attentions when…
[cue Sense and Sensibility, Marianne and Elinor discussing Willoughby after his letter expressing “my affections have long been engaged elsewhere”]
Marianne, oh Marianne - it is better to know at once what his intentions are. Dearest, think of what you would have felt if your engagement had carried on for months and months before he chose to put an end to it.
We are not engaged.
But you wrote to him! I thought then that he must have left you with some kind of understanding?
No - he is not so unworthy as you think him.
Not so unworthy! Did he tell you that he loved you?
Yes. No - never absolutely. It was every day implied, but never declared. Sometimes I thought it had been, but it never was. He has broken no vow.
It was every day implied? Aka the constant text messages and hyperbolas use of emojis, introducing you to his friends and favorite bands, making you try his favorite burger and then… no text, no call, nada OR the “listen, it’s complicated with my ex…”
EVERYONE has been Willoughby’d. We’ve got to suck it up ladies until the “elusive Mr. F” comes along.
The last photo of partner yoga session with @ruel.galinato !
I was happy that I felt really comfortable being upside-down in headstand for so many times. I always still have that small fear of flipping over (which i’ve already done so many times), but I think it’s more that I know I can balance and want to stay up. Also suprised that almost every time I did kick up I didnt didn’t need help staying up except for the few time he helped tap me.