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You awaken to the aroma of fresh-brewed coffee and the feeling of Val stroking your head.
"Wake up, sleepyhead," she whispers.
"Wuh?" you roll over and get an eyeful of still-naked Val.
"Nerves woke me up early, but this is when we set our alarms," she explains.
You groggily sit up, and take a long whiff of the fresh air. Val looks troubled. Your mind is torn between pervy delight at being woken by her nudity, and empathetic concern for her well-being. You decide to not be a shitheel.
"Good morning to you too," you say cheekily. "Are you alright?" you ask with genuine concern.
"I'm nervous about the appointment. What if I'm somehow not ok?” she wonders.
You reach up and grab Val's arm. "You're gonna be ok. I'm sure of it," you offer reassuringly.
Val smiles weakly, and nods.
"Yeah... Want some breakfast? Pants optional," she says with a singsong lilt.
"Yes, and no on the pants," you say. You follow Val's butt to the kitchen and start collecting items for breakfast. There's something really sexy about doing mundane tasks while naked, you think.
You turn around and see Val looking at you.
"What?"
"Nothing," she says bashfully, "I was just thinking about... Well, never mind."
Your toast pops up, and you quickly apply some butter. You take your toast to the table and press Val a bit. "Thinking about what?"
Val's face goes red, "Nothing."
"You know you can tell me anything," you say reassuringly,
Val takes a bite out of her own jam-spread toast to buy some time. She takes a deep breath and responds, "If all this works out, if they figure out why I can't gain weight and how to reverse it...." She squeaks in embarrassment but continues, "I was fantasizing about where I'd carry my new weight."
"Mm, well, do you have any preference?" you ask in an encouraging way.
Val exhales and exhales and exhales, before saying in a rush, "I thought I'd be a big, curvy blonde woman. I dunno, maybe with huge tits and big wide hips... And - and - and -”
You walk over to Val and wrap her up in a hug, trying to keep your erection from pressing into her. Val stops stammering and returns the hug, burying her face into your shoulder and breathing deeply and slowly.
"Shhh, it'll be alright," you soothe, "I promise. We'll get through this together."
"I'll hold you to that," she says quietly. After a moment she wriggles free.
"We should get dressed and get going. I'll drive, then I'll take you back here so you can go to work."
You nod and finish getting dressed, before hopping in the car with Val. You cobbled together a work-suitable outfit from your cleanest options, and packed the rest. Val donned a pair of gray capris and a fitted black v-neck shirt. The ride to Dr. Kovacs' office is mercifully short, and an uncomfortable tension lingers in the car. Val pulls into a spot, parks, and the two of you enter the office right at the crack of 9.
The receptionist nods at Val. "Ah, Ms. Sojka, right?"
"That's me," she says, and fills out some paperwork. She sits next to you on a thin-cushioned chair, and you watch the weather report on a muted TV. It's shaping up to be a lovely day here; you wonder how it is on the other side of the world.
The door opens and a man's voice calls from behind it, "Valentine Sojka?"
You and Val get up and walk through. Here we go.
You round the corner and spot a lean, kind-looking man in a lab coat. He's got a stethoscope around his neck, and his graying hair and mustache are both neatly trimmed.
"You must be Dr. Kovacs," you say.
He tenses a little and turns to Val, "Val, is he with you?" Val answers, "Oh, yeah. That's Anon. We've started dating and I asked him to come today for moral support."
You smile sheepishly, but Dr. Kovacs relaxes.
He motions Val to a scale. "Still six foot three, I see," the doctor quips.
Val stands on the scale and holds steady. Kovacs fiddles with the weights and balances. Once they settle, he writes down a number then leads you and Val to an exam room. Val quickly whispers in your ear, "Two-twenty." You nod. The three of you enter the examination room and Dr. Kovacs closes the door. Val sits on the table, and you head to a chair in the corner. The doctor puts a bracelet-esque device on Val's wrist and has her hold steady. After a few seconds, he reads off her blood pressure and heart rate.
"120 over 79, and 58 beats per minute." Kovacs writes something down, then taps a few buttons on the device, before removing it. "That's very good, just like always. Weight is normal for you, and you didn't come in with any complaints. Why did you feel the need to come in today, Val?"
Val asks rhetorically, "Dr. Kovacs, how long have I been about 220 pounds?"
He replies, "About five years now. Why do you ask?"
Val continues, "Doc, I've recently been trying to gain weight."
Kovacs looks confused, "I can't imagine why. Are you trying to bulk up more? Are you trying to break into power lifting? Sumo wrestling?"
He chuckles.
Val replies, "No, I've never had any interest in either. I want to be healthy."
He frowns, "Val, you are healthy. You're a perfectly healthy 25-year-old woman with a large frame and a muscular build. Unless there's something you're not telling me?"
Val goes blank for a second, then takes a breath and looks Dr Kovacs in the eye.
Val explains, "Doc, I've been eating at a major calorie surplus for about the last four months. Not a single ounce has stuck to me."
Dr. Kovacs looks into your eyes, "Anon, is she telling the truth?"
You look at Val and nod slowly. He sighs and runs a hand over his face.
He asks Val, "And you think this is a bad thing."
Val gets a little irritated, "You don't think that's at least a little strange? And don't tell me I should be glad my body works like this."
Kovacs looks flustered, clearly having planned on saying just that. He adjusts course and asks, "You never did tell me why you wanted to gain weight."
Val chuckles, "You're gonna hate this. I want to put on some weight for aesthetics."
Dr. Kovacs glares daggers at you. "Is this your idea? Did you put her up to this?"
You shrink in your seat and manage to choke out, "No, 100 percent Val's idea. We haven't even been dating that long."
The doctor's expression softens, but he's still annoyed. "Fat may be fashionable these days, but fashion doesn't make my job any easier. Quite the opposite in fact. Val, I've been your doctor for more than a decade. You know I only want what's best for your health."
Val smiles, "Of course, I know that." She pauses and then adds, "Thank you, Dr. Kovacs."
She continues, "But think of it this way. How do we know that this -" she pauses to flex her sinewy biceps "- isn't bad? This could be some weird genetic condition that'll stop my heart or ruin my nerves in ten years."
Dr. Kovacs looks skeptical, but less so. "And you're worried about this because you can binge eat without consequence?"
Val replies, "Yes actually. How many patients have you seen who could do that?"
Kovacs thinks for a moment and then smiles, "Just you!" Kovacs chuckles.
He thinks for a second, "Well you just had your physical, so I don't think we need any tests today. Your bloodwork was spotless." He taps his chin a few times.
Kovacs gives in. "Ok, I think I know something. I'll give you a referral to an endocrinologist who should have some insight."
He writes some notes on a pad and tears it off. He pulls the note back from Val's hand at the last second though.
"Before you go through with this, as your doctor you know I can't condone you deliberately putting on weight. This referral is so that we can confirm your physique isn't a sign of something dangerous."
Val nods solemnly and takes the slip of paper. "Got it. I won't gain more than I can easily lose."
Dr. Kovacs groans and rolls his eyes. "Guess I'll have to be happy with that. Any other bombs you want to drop on me today?" He chuckles.
Val starts giggling, "Yeah I've got this itch on my leg..." Dr Kovacs starts laughing, "Alright, alright, get outta here!" He opens the door and gestures for you two to leave.
Val and you get up and walk out. You take a look back at Kovacs, who is smiling and waving at you. You and Val make your way down the hall and outside.
"Itchy leg?" You ask.
"It's just an old running joke," Val explains. "Over the years, no matter what I came in for, I'd always end the visit by making a show of complaining about an itch on my leg."
You walk along the sidewalk, "I don't get it."
"I think it's cute..." Val says.
The two of you start breaking into laughter.
You reach Val's car and get in. She hands you the note and starts the car. You look over the note. The sheet sports promotions of some unpronounceable drug, and Dr Kovacs' writing is in surprisingly-neat block letters.
"Dr. Leona Q. Rohaz, MD/PhD
Clinic @ 3102 Cherry Ave
555-123-9999
Endocrinologist / dietitian, keeps odd office hours, I'll make an introduction for you today. Expect a call from them.
- Dr. K"
"This seems a little.... Foreboding, don't you think?" You ask Val. "What, the referral note? Yeah maybe so, but I'm ready for some answers."
You snap a picture of the note, for a reference. You plan to look up Dr. Rohaz's papers if work allows today.
"Damnit now I'm going to be antsy and staring at my phone all day," Val opines. She turns at an intersection, and gently accelerates.
"How about this, baby - call Dr. Rohaz's clinic at 4 if they haven't called you by then." You offer.
"That's a great idea. I'll be able to do work if I have a number to reach them." Val replies.
You arrive at Val's house and get out of the car. The two of you walk to Val's place. She opens the door, you dip in, grab your bag, then stand with Val by the door for a sec.
"Ugh, alright. I gotta go to work now," you say.
Val nods. You part ways with a kiss and a hug. Your drive to work is tense and lonely. You're immediately missing Val, but start organizing your thoughts for the workday. You get to work right at 10. Perfect. If you're slick, maybe nobody will even notice you're technically late. Nobody so much as bats an eye as you slyly get to your cubicle. No pressing emails wait for you, so you re-open the reports you were studying back on Friday. It feels so long ago, but you re-acquaint yourself with their contents. Your mind soon wanders, however. Pretty soon, you're looking up Dr. Rohaz and her publications online. You're quite surprised by what you find.
Her lab is an extremely prolific publisher. There are dozens of papers over the last decade. You have no idea where to start - the titles all sound like science-ey gibberish. You choose a paper at random and click on it. The online library website seems to be strangely slow to load. Eventually, a pdf of the paper is up on the screen, and you start digging into it. You pause for a moment, recalling that technical papers aren't usually this publicly available. You chalk this paper's accessibility up to good luck, and download a local copy to your flash drive. The paper is written in a strangely easy-to-understand fashion, and you find yourself easily grasping the subject: chemical pathways of human digestion.
After the paper, you find another, then another. It seems like the woman was really on to something. Either you suddenly got a lot smarter, or Dr. Rohaz is a world-class technical communicator. You also can't help but notice that every paper you looked up was available in full text. Maybe she's very generous with her research too...
You have no idea. It's all very peculiar.
You're jolted out of your scientific trance by an alert on your phone. Your stock picks have climbed in value. By a lot, in fact. You buzz with excitement as you open your online brokerage account to see what's happened. Your few hundreds of dollars are now worth a few weeks of salary. You stab in orders to sell as quickly as your fingers will allow. You can't help but smile as you get your order-confirmation emails. Your account nicely beefed up, you've now got all the time you need to plan your next move. You're giddy with excitement, and you decide to update Val on your new profits, and your new science knowledge. You send her a text: "Everything's coming up Anon (and Val) today! Your stock picks went nuts, and it looks like Dr. Rohaz really knows her shit!"
You hit send, but you get no response. No surprise there. You sigh and go back to work.
About an hour later, Val replies.
She's all happy emojis and hearts. "I'm so happy for you, baby! Sorry I didn't reply right away, Dr. Rohaz called! I'll tell you all about it tomorrow - I need to do errands and housework today :(" You're disappointed that you won't get to see her tonight, but to be honest a night in your own bed sounds kinda nice. And you should probably do dishes. Or laundry. Or vacuum. Or literally any cleaning if you ever want her to visit you.
A few customer complaints pop up that afternoon, and you trade cheeky messages with Val as you address the complaints. You close out your workday by slapping together a report on your market research from last week, send it to your boss, then head to your car. Your tires squeal as you turn them, and you head towards the open road. You can feel the dying sun's rays on your face, warming you as you drive.
You decide to swing by a fast-food burger place on your way home. You skipped lunch, so a quick bite to eat sounds perfect. You pull into the drive-through and place an order. You're handed a bag of greasy goodness, and you make haste back to your apartment.
You scarf down your cheeseburger dinner, then spend the evening trading cute texts with Val, watching dumb videos on the internet, and playing games on your phone. It's been a while since you've had a proper girlfriend, so you savor her texting you cute pet videos and flirty messages. It's been a long but productive day, and you're wiped out by 10pm. You bid Val a good night, and get a lovely message back. You change into some PJs, and pass out about as soon as your head hits the pillow.