You awaken just in time to see Henry hit the door, Kal trailing behind him. He is back in gear, so to speak, but not at a hundred percent. You roll out of bed, and you feel weak. It's been a week since his request, and you are not the early riser you used to be. You're just getting back to normal and it's because he is working a bit more now.
And to your surprise, you've begun to miss him. He is on his work schedule, his day starting in the middle of the night, and he is in bed early. It is part of his regimen, and you want him to get his rest, so you work in the evenings after he goes to bed. Though you know he is doing what he has to do, at times you feel a little ignored. He is married to his career, not to you, and truthfully he is in demand. He must strike while the iron is hot, and try to keep it that way, until, until...
You really don't know.
You are working on your projects with Xanadu. Sometimes you get a little sensitive and paranoid when they ask to see your previous works, but you remind yourself all that is yours. You even made a point of asking before signing anything. It's one thing to devote your talents to company projects, but your previous creations are completely separate deal.
But still, you feel a sense of balance, you need it. Even if you are working on projects of theirs and still ones of your own from time to time, you want a full life-a full one with Henry in it. You are afraid he may take you for granted as others have. You are afraid he will become bored and seek excitement elsewhere. His job yields access to Vanity Fair Marie Claire beauties, to fantasy roles and scenes with actresses people dream of, women of status. Hell, he is made of dreams to a point if all one saw was the flat two dimensional glossy representation, or the gym jacked, attractive characters he plays and tries to bring third dimensions to. He is an actor, a successful directed animator of stories written by-people like you.
But you chase those fears away. You have to. It's not attractive. You go through your list as always when you feel like this in a relationship. Have you done anything wrong? Have you been a good friend? Have you been a good lover? Do you communicate? Men are terrible at it, it's on you. Are you picking up cues and learning new ones? You mentally check off boxes. Yes, yes, yes, yes..
"Good morning."
You gasp, startled, and then chuckle. "Every now and then you get one up on me."
"Well, gotta keep you on your toes." He takes your hand and you go up on your toes in releve' and turn, leaning toward him after, making him laugh.
"Hey, I took beginner's ballet," you wink, coming down on your heels.
He smiles at you, the kind of smile that tells you that he's not easily fooled, he knows something's up. You love and hate how well he reads you. "You're up early."
"Missed seeing you," you say truthfully, kissing his cheek. "I love how rugged you look in the morning-all unpolished, un made up, stubble on that chin."
His cheeks color slightly as he laughs, and does a small fake pout. "Aw, you don't like my modeling?"
"I appreciate the modeling you do, but it's an image, babe, it's art," you tell him. "I just like it when you're...you."
His look softens.
You have been kicking around an idea, and you take a deep breath. "Wanna work out with me?"
His laugh is totally masculine as he puts his arms around your waist. "I don't think I have time for that today, love."
"That's not what I meant, though I like that idea, too," you add quickly, putting your hands on his chest. You look in his eyes. "Tomorrow morning?"
"What time?" he asks.
"After your run."
"So this time tomorrow?"
"Yeah."
"It's a date," he is grinning now, and you warm at the expression, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he looks down at you, his canines almost showing. He kisses your forehead, grabs an infused water you made, and heads off to the gym.
You spend the whole day planning this. When was the last time you even did this, even tried? Oh, yeah, long time ago, in a galaxy far, far, away. But you are determined. If he likes it, you may be able to do this weekly? Or at least stretch every day.
You can barely sleep that night, you're so nervous, but manage to get a few hours in. The alarm sounds and he takes that big stretch you love, when his arms extend over his head, and he lengthens his legs. This is the stretch of stretches, the one that animals do maybe once a day. "Darling?"
"I'm up," you tell him and you turn to do a child's pose in bed, which is more of a catlike stretch. You bring your head up and realize he's watching you.
He smirks a little and rolls out of bed, quickly throwing on sweats to go on his run. "I won't be long, alright?" he tells you, sleep still in his eyes.
You nod, and in a few minutes, he grabs the leash, calls a sleepy Kal, and is gone. Luna sits in the window, watching and waiting for their return.
You wash your face and brush your teeth and get into leggings and a tank. You make yourself coffee, your drink of the gods. On a day you thought you were out of it and in a panic, you told Henry that the gods drink coffee to wash the ambrosia down and he laughed so hard, he almost cried, and suddenly found the missing jar in the wrong place. To this day you wonder if he did that on purpose because the day before you told him you were a coffee addict and you had a sleepshirt that read, "Give me the coffee and no one gets hurt," light pajamas that read, "Dear coffee: I love you," and two t-shirts that read "No talkie before coffee" and "Given coffee, I could rule the world."
He returns and laughs as he reads your newest coffee tee. "Coffee, workout, hustle?"
"Every day I'm shufflin'," you smile, and glance down at the yoga mat.
"Ah, look at you, all caffeinated and ready," he jokes. "So, what are we doing?"
"Stretch first," you say, getting down on the mat on your knees. "Behind me, legs outside."
He gets on his knees.
"Arms out." After he does that, you extend your arms as well. "Hold mine, relax. Inhale." You lean forward and he holds you suspended forward, both of you stretching your arms to maintain the balance. "Hold...Okay, exhale, pull me in. You do this four times. After the last one, you go down into child's pose with him behind you.
"Whoa!" he sounds amused. You are doing child's pose already, stretching your back, but pulling him over you stretches his. "Wow."
"How's your back?"
"Feels good."
You smile.
"And it's giving me ideas."
"Henry!"
"Sorry, love, can't help it," he chuckles.
"Okay, up." You tell him. You turn on your knees to face him and grab his hands. "Lean back." He obeys, and you realize how hard this is. You tough it out, holding and "okay." He pulls you back to facing him on his knees. He may be exercising but his eyes are telling it: he's getting ideas. "Sit back." His eyes are sparking so much you are having trouble remembering what you put together. "Let me pull you." You lean back completely, trying to get your shoulder blades to the floor, meanwhile pulling him forward to stretch him back. You come forward, and say, "Okay, your turn." He pulls and you moan softly, loving how the tension is being released as your lower back is stretched.
"Nice," he says. "One more?"
You pull and he falls forward on top of you. You laugh out loud. "Henry!"
"Oh, I'm sorry, I—I wasn't ready..." He says so convincingly as if he's that awkward, but his eyes are a different story.
Before he completely takes your breath away, you turn your body so you are at his feet.
"Well, alrighty, then."
"Grab my ankles, babe," you tell him. "Okay, now push up." When he does you extend your arms on him, holding onto his ankles. "Ready?"
"Okay, I get it," he says. "yeah."
You do five sets of ten push ups while he does presses with ten second holds in between. You almost break down because push ups are not your thing. You tire way before him. You've never had a lot of upper body strength, well not like this, anyway. Twenty to thirty push ups is usually your max and the last five is like a war.
"You can do it, baby, come on!"
Renewed with encouragement, you power through.
You hear him start to breathe a little harder and you smile. Finally, a little exertion. "Okay, push ups for you, babe." When he gets into position you climb on and he adjusts as you lay the length of him. "Okay, Supe, let's go."
"Ha ha."
"Ha ha, hell, come on!" You giggle.
He does five sets of ten, holding in a ten second plank in between. You admire his strength, and what's more you like that even though he is taking this seriously, he has a great attitude about it. This is what co-workers say about him on projects. The "can do" attitude always goes a long way no matter what's going on.
You get off him. "Stay down."
"Ooh, like that tone."
Yu shake your head. You lift his legs at the ankles. "Hold, sweetie." You do calf raises same amount and he holds. "Okay, babe, get up, and put your hands on the chair there, semi bend."
"Do I spread 'em?"
"No," you can't help but laugh. You climb on top of him, but balance yourself in a sort of piggy back position. "Calf raises, babe." He does them. "Wow, nice releve's, babe."
"I can waltz, therefore I releve'," he says.
"I'd like to waltz with you," you whisper, climbing down.
"Someday," he smiles as you turn him around.
You did't realize you said that aloud. "Uh...okay, other way."
"Oh, I like this."
You wrap your arms and legs around him. "Squat."
This is so damned sexual, you almost lose count. You are holding on as he moves up and down in exercise, but your eyes are locked, you're panting together, it can't be helped. You are inhaling the scent of each other and the heady combination of them. He smiles down at you as he moves you against a wall. "Now what?" He does that tell tale lick of his lips, biting the bottom one. He wants you and he wants to.
"I think—I think we're done for today," you say breathlessly. "There are other exercises, but this is a nice start, yeah?"
"Yeah," His look is doing things to your insides. "and I'll excuse that you're wearing underwear." You open your mouth to say something, "That's alright, you can give me a bath."
"What?"
"At the gym I shower when I'm done with my workout," he says. "Shower with me?" He doesn't wait for your reply, just takes you by the hand and leads you to the bathroom. "A little help, please?" He kicks off his shoes.
You pull his top off slowly and are hit with the masculine scent of him, your eyes treated to his upper body. You lick your lips, feeling your mouth go dry. You pull off down his sweats and boxer briefs to find that he is halfway "there." He lift his feet to remove his socks and come up slowly, rubbing your cheek against his thigh and wanting to kiss him all over. Before you do, he grabs your hands and pulls you up.
"My turn," his voice is almost a growl, tickling your nerve endings in a delicious way. You kick off your gym shoes and look up at him, lost in the sea of his eyes. He pulls your t-shirt off, and unfastens your bra, sliding it down your arms slowly. He kneels before you and pulls socks off, then your leggings and panties. He inhales your most intimate scent, brushing your pubis with his lips and your breath catches. He picks you up and steps into the shower with you. He turns on the water and kisses you, the water falling between your bodies, sometimes swirling and falling in your mouths as they mate.
You wet him down, spreading the flow of water over his body in sweeping caresses as he wets his hair. You begin lathering him up, doing the firm strokes he likes, and you are rewarded with moans of pleasure from him. You get to his legs and give into the temptation of licking him, just the tip, and you feel it broaden on your tongue. Your spine tingles as he caresses you.
"Ah!" he exhales softly, and pulls you up. He lathers you up with the same sort of massage like strokes and you almost feel like you could sleep. He backs you against the shower wall and sinks to his knees, bringing your leg over his shoulder before paying in kind. You almost sink, the sensation too intense.
"Henry..." You whisper, wanting more of him.
He rises to full height, and lifts you against the wall, bringing you down on his erection. You gasp, your head falling against the wall as he works you. Your limbs go around his body, and you purposefully clasp him the only way you can. As you squeeze, he moans, pushing and pulling you harder as his hips meet yours. Your cries mingle with the shower in a harmony you both know and you climax together, still moving and riding it out.
"I love you," you whisper and kiss him tenderly.
"I love you," he replies softly, rubbing his cheek against yours.
You dry each other off and dress. He still has work to do, but now that warmth, the hum you thought you couldn't hear is right back where it was, where it should be. Maintenance. You just needed to a little maintenance. He was open. Had he ever really had a woman during a project that wasn't in it at the time? Of course he has, you tell yourself, but this is different. Your relationship was different, you can feel it.
He pets Luna and grabs his leash before kissing you. "See you tonight."
You smile, "Have a good day, love you."
He breathes deeply, "I love you."
You watch him from the window seat as he drives off. You sit with coffee and your notebook. You read what you have. Things were shaping up and soon you will be tapping at your laptop. You set it up at the dining room table, and your actions slow as you look at your ring. Your gaze lifts to your reflection in the screen. You read your t-shirt. Given coffee, I can rule the world.
You laugh at it. Coffee and Cavill maybe, you tell yourself silently, and giggle to yourself, powering up the laptop.