#dmmwad

[artificialqueens]

don't make me wait another day, chapter 1: let's stop running from love (kamasia) - holtzmanns, writworm42

A/N: Holtz: Can you all believe that Writ and I’s first collab wasn’t a Branjie one? Highkey though, they’re so wonderful and so easy to write with and are hilarious and this was so much fun. I really do love them so much and am so glad to have found such a lovely friend and fellow writer.

Writ: Holtz & I decided to finally put our shared brain cell to use and try something different! We really hope you guys enjoy this, we both love Kamasia so we’re really excited to share this :) Plus, have I mentioned how amazing Holtz is? In every author’s note? Okay. Cause she’s an amazing person to write with and I can’t wait to continue this story with her.

This was based off a tumblr post Holtz saw about a trainer & gym rat falling in love, and we thought we’d add just a dash of useless lesbian to it. Title from My My My by Troye Sivan. 

Asia requires her fair share of persuasion to actually get herself to the gym. She rolls her eyes when Monet first suggests it, retorting that she’d rather poke her eyes out with her own makeup brush than look all sweaty in front of a million strangers.

“But girl, all the other strangers are gonna be sweaty too! That’s the whole point of gym, you go be nasty with other people.” Monet rolls her eyes, dropping her gym bag in the front foyer of their apartment and ignoring the dirty look that Asia gives her for it.

“Girl please, you just like that you finally the prettiest one in the room.” Asia huffs, but Monet’s already walking into the bathroom to take a shower.

“Well if I already outshine you, then you don’t have anything to lose, right? Besides,” she pokes her head out from the bathroom door, “I got plenty of sponges with me if you want to mop all that nasty up.”

She disappears behind the door again before a couch cushion can hit her in the face.

It’s not that Asia doesn’t want to go to the gym, necessarily. She has been meaning to exercise more, become more fit. And it is true that running by herself has become quite boring, what with the same bland trails every time.

It’s just that the thought of going in front of people who look so good and are so much more experienced than her is intimidating. The idea of having them all watch her make an ugly fool of herself on equipment that she barely knows the names of makes her sick to her stomach.

Unfortunately, Monet’s girlfriend Monique is a lot more persuasive than Monet is. By persuasive, Asia means that when she’s having a lovely day off to do nothing but laze around in the apartment, thank you very much, Monique barges in with Monet in tow, announcing that they’re going to work out. She doesn’t leave until Asia is behind her carrying a duffel bag full of towels, running shoes, and a change of clothes.

“Trust me, it’s gonna be brown cow stunning.” Monique practically squeals in glee as they walk into the changing room, Asia deciding to keep her skepticism to herself.

She’s already here, after all. Might as well make the most of it.

There’s only one word that pops into Asia’s mind once they enter the gym…smelly. Smelly as hell, as if none of the gym goers have ever washed their workout clothes in their lives.

Monet waves her hand in front of Asia’s wrinkled nose. “No different from your nasty ass socks when you come back from your runs.”

“Rude.”

Monet snickers, ignoring the shove that Asia gives her and following Monique towards the elliptical machines.

“The hell is this?” The machine looks like a death trap, like it’s gonna fling her off should she try and step onto it.

Monique waltzes past her, gracefully climbing onto the machine. “ This,” Monique starts with a flourish, “is an elliptical. Your fat ass never been on one before?”

“Oh, for Heaven’s sakes.” Asia mutters, climbing onto the one next to Monique as Monet snickers. She can beat these ridiculous death machines easily.

It turns out, in fact, that Asia cannot.

Monet pats her arm sympathetically as she leads Asia towards the treadmills. “Maybe you won’t fall off of this one as fast.”

Asia huffs. She’s tired of this stinky, sweaty, idiotic-

Well.

Asia was.

But beside the row of treadmills is a squat rack, and standing by that squat rack is a woman in a muscle top that’s hugging her visible abs and leggings that show off her…assets. Asia isn’t one to stare or objectify, but the woman and her damn high ponytail that cascades down her back are making it incrediblydifficult to be nice and respectful.

The woman is spotting a rather sweaty looking guy who looks like he’s about to pass out any minute. Asia wrinkles her nose. Probably the source of the damn smell of this joint. The woman takes his spot next, demonstrating the move that she wants him to do and the way she squats and sticks her ass out (an ass that’s perhaps facing the treadmill that Asia is on), Asia nearly misses a step and falls off.

“Shit!”

She catches herself with her arms against the railings of the treadmill, a string of swear words leaving her mouth that she hopes aren’t audible to the dreamboat woman a couple meters away from her. Who, to her credit, is still doing squat reps with a weighted bar resting along her back and shoulders.

Okay, so she’s safe; the woman probably didn’t hear, or see. Good.

Only then, Asia looks up again, looks back one more time ( why did she look back one more time?), and notices the woman looking in her direction. Staring. Quickly gliding her eyes away when she sees Asia looking back. Aww.

Asia’s nerves disappear, and she does what anyone else would do when they catch a shy, pretty girl staring at them.

She waits for the girl to look again, and then she smiles.

Kameron is the epitome of smooth. She really is, as evidenced by the way that she completely misses Dave’s (or is it Steve’s?) question. They’re reaching the end of the hour, anyway. His training session is going to be done any minute as it is.

“Pardon?” She puts on the most polite voice she can, because Dave/Steve is all tired and sweaty and not in a good mood after Kameron made him do entirely more burpees than necessary. Along with the fact that he pays at the register after the session is over, so she wants to keep him happy.

“I said,” the man huffs in between sips of his water, “can we do these next week with lighter weights?”

“You want to go lighter?” Kameron raises an eyebrow. It’s not that she’s surprised, per se. It’s just that most men that she trains always feel like they have something to prove with her once they see her muscles.

Dave/Steve (she really needs to figure out his name) tries to get up, but falls back against the seat of the leg press machine. “I think you nearly killed me this time, Miss.”

“Told you, my name’s Kameron, not ‘Miss’.” Kameron can’t help her snippy tone. Screw keeping him happy.

She helps him up regardless, though, keeping him from falling on his shaky legs as he hobbles towards the changing rooms. It’s only then that she allows herself to peek back up at the woman by the treadmills.

Who is smiling at her.

Kameron nearly drops her clipboard, catches it with a slew of curse words that leave her mouth. She looks back up and the woman looks like she’s trying not to laugh, and Kameron can’t help the blood rushing to her cheeks.

She’s smooth. Real smooth. Incredibly smooth.

Kameron watches as the woman hops off her treadmill, looking like she’s glistening rather than breaking a sweat. Who actually looks good at the gym? The woman strides closer to her, and Kameron has to resist the urge to step backwards, because talking to pretty girls for the first time is not her forte. The woman, however, has other ideas.

Oh God. She’s walking towards her. The pretty woman is walking towards her.

She’s smooth. Real smooth. She can do this.

“Hi there!” The woman smiles again, her dimples and white teeth ( God , she has white teeth, how does she have such white teeth?) even more stunning up close.

Kameron can do this. She can do this.

“You a trainer here?”

She can’t do this.

“Um…uh…Hi. Yes. Trainer. I’m a trainer, yes.” Kam watches the other woman’s smile grow even wider at her stumbling, and has to stifle another stream of curses from spilling out of her mouth. She coughs, taking the opportunity to hide her face in her elbow and regain composure.

“What can I do for you?”

“Well, I’m looking for a trainer, and I just saw you working with that guy, so I thought I might inquire about you, ah…”

She’s looking for her name. The pretty woman is looking for her name.

“Oh! Um…Kam. Everyone just calls me Kam.” As she says it, she realizes that her name is literally sewn into her shirt, and she reddens.

God damn, this woman knows what she’s doing.

“Well hi, Kam! I’m Asia.” The woman extends a hand, and Kameron takes it, once again reddening when she feels how fucking soft the woman’s hands are, even slick with sweat.

Kam doesn’t even wipe her hand on her shorts.

“Nice to meet you, Asia.” Kam smiles, knowing her own plain, regular teeth don’t measure up, hoping that Asia won’t mind too much. Thankfully, Asia doesn’t seem to–instead, she just nods.

“Pleasure’s all mine, baby.”

Oh God. She called her baby.

“So… Can I schedule a session with you some time?”

“Oh, yes please.”

Oh, for Lord’s sake.

“Um, I mean… I’m free next week on Thursday at 3?”

“Well, that’s a coincidence!” Asia giggles, flipping her hair a little. Jesus fucking Christ. “So am I. So see you Thursday at 3?”

Against her better judgment, Kameron nods. “See you then.”

It’s only when Asia walks away that reality truly hits Kameron. She is completely, utterly fucked, and somehow, she doesn’t mind.