"Dez!" Lane leapt up and threw her arms around her old friend. The hug lingered a second longer than he expected. She stepped back and gave him an approving look. "Whoa. You got strong."
"You clean up pretty good too." Desmond winked back. "Went and got all professional on us."
Lane snorted and rolled her eyes. "You're half right. Beer?" From the waist up she was wearing a smart blazer and blouse, her auburn hair pulled back in a bun. From the waist down she was wearing sweatpants and slippers with bunny ears. This was her standard outfit when she was working remotely. She'd just finished a long day of video calls and was ready to unwind.
"Whisky if you got it." Desmond hung his coat up and took off his shoes. He'd thought about changing his shirt, but his whole closet was plaid button downs. It had seemed ridiculous to swap out the one he was wearing for an identical one. He was just nervous. He and Lane had been so close in high school, always hanging around the bleachers after class and shooting the breeze. Then she left for Brown, pre-law track, while he stuck around at the community college. His grades were fine, but money was tight and he had to work. They swore they would keep in touch, but between her classload and internships and his program and full-time job, they drifted apart.
For years he'd felt awkward about it. It was embarrassing to feel left behind. Eventually though, his job at the warehouse turned into leading a crew, and now he managed a pretty big team. He'd met up with other friends who'd graduated college and realized while they were still figuring themselves out, he'd already matured and come into himself. It felt good to have a secure place in the world and not have any debt. Plus, he felt a little flattered Lane had noticed his physique. He wasn't a massive guy, but long hours on the warehouse floor had thickened his arms and chest.
He flopped onto the couch as Lane yelled from the kitchen. "I hope you like bad whisky, because that's what we've got!"
Desmond surveyed the piles of books and papers on every available surface. "Still cramming, huh? I thought school didn't start for another couple of weeks."
Lane gave him a weary look and handed him a full shot glass. "It never stops. Cheers!" They clinked glasses, tapped them on the table, and took their shots with a grimace.
Lane flopped down next to him. She seemed suddenly exhausted. "Long day?" Dez asked.
She sighed. "Always." She leaned forward and picked at her nails. "I'm still wrapping things up from my summer internship, and they just mailed out syllabuses so I'm trying to get ahead on my reading, especially since I heard one of my profs is a total stickler and I really want to impress him."
This was new. Back in high school Desmond saw Lane stress out about classes, but she was always able to put it down on the weekends. Now here she was tense and cramming even though the school year hadn't started yet. He put a hand on her shoulder, feeling the taut muscles all frozen up from stress. It felt like he could read her through his fingertips, every knot and worry.
Lane hung her head as he rubbed her back. "Truthfully Dez, I'm pretty worried about this year. It's supposed to be a lot harder. My grades are great, but I feel bad all the time. Like physically bad." She squeezed her neck, lolling her head to the side. "I never used to get headaches, but now I get a migraine every two weeks. Sometimes I lose a whole afternoon to it, just lying in the dark with a rag on my face, trying to relax. I wish there was some magic word that could just stop it."
"Maybe it's not a words thing," Desmond said. "I can tell you're all knotted up." If there was one thing Desmond took seriously, it was how his body felt. His first year in the warehouse he'd eaten like shit, had terrible posture, and was rewarded by a never-ending string of muscle pulls and strains. To fix it, he didn't just change his habits. He'd also taken some classes on massage and meditation and even learned some anatomy. Now he knew his own body really well, and he knew the signs to look for in someone else. Lane's body was one big red warning light. She needed help.
"Look. Let me show you a couple things you can do to stay loose. Is it okay if I touch your back and neck?" Lane nodded. She slipped her arms into her shirt, shrugging off her bra without ever taking her shirt off. Desmond raised an eyebrow. That black, lacey bra was pretty fancy for just lounging around.
Desmond scooched up behind her and got to work. He ran his fingertips over her back, feeling under her shoulder blades and along her spine, mapping the muscles all the way up to her neck. Her right shoulder was higher than her left one and had a particularly big knot right under the shoulder blade. He pushed a thumb into it. "You lean on this side when you use the computer, don't you?" Lane grunted confirmation. "Don't do that. Let's get you a better chair."
He continued to feel along her major muscle groups, pointing out spots she could use a lacrosse ball on. He kneaded her back on section at a time, slowly coaxing her muscles into letting go. Her breath came heavy, nearly a sob. There was a lot of stress locked up in there. He tried to find the right balance of pressure and gentleness, knowing from experience that more force wasn't always better. Healing doesn't have to hurt.
As her back started to release, he worked his way up to her neck. It wasn't as bad as he thought. He could already feel her stiffness starting to melt away.
"Dez. Oh my god. When did you get so good at this," she mumbled as he worked. She seemed sleepy, more than she really should be at this time of day. Must be all that stress dissolving, Desmond thought.
Then he found a little spot on her neck that felt different from the rest. Not exactly a knot, but it definitely felt a little tense. He put his thumb behind it, slid the pad of his index finger around to grab it, and gently pushed the tip of his thumb into the spot.
The second he applied pressure, Lane's body slumped against the couch. It reminded him of the old trick for getting a cat to relax. When you grab the scruff of their neck they calm down and stop wiggling around. It activates an instinct from when their mama cat would carry them around by the neck as a kitten. Lane seemed just like that, totally calm and placid. He could feel the difference in her muscles too. Seconds earlier her muscles had been fighting each other, her short, tight pecs pulling against the bunched-up muscles of her upper back. Now all the fight had gone out of them. Her head lolled to the side, almost as if she was asleep.
Desmond gently supported her head. She'd had such a strong response, he didn't want to make any sudden movements. "Lane? Are you okay?"
"Mmhmm." Lane's voice was distant, like she was barely there.
"How do you feel?" He leaned forward so he could see her face.
"Good." Her eyes had drooped closed, and she had a small sleepy smile.
Phew. Nothing broken. He eased the pressure off her neck, finishing the massage with some light touches along her neck and shoulders. He felt her skin turn to goosebumps as she involuntarily gave a little shiver. Then he let go.
Her eyelids fluttered open as she slowly came back to her senses. Her mouth moved in the shape of words, but nothing came out. She laughed at herself, waited a few seconds, and tried again. This time the words came.
"That felt SO good. I can hardly remember what you did except that it felt just amazing. It was like I was floating underwater, totally weightless. I couldn't even talk afterwards! That never happens to me!"
