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Chapter 4: Deportment
Sarah knew the value of good posture. She did exercises every day to work on her core muscles so she could be strong and supple in the event she had to whup some bad guy or other.
Chuck knew the value of bad posture.
Don't get me wrong, he did exercises too. The bad posture that Chuck was aiming for was for Sarah's benefit. And, ultimately, Chuck's benefit as well.
Chuck had been in the habit of standing straight and tall until Sarah came into his life. He even had an old medal for deportment stashed in a sock at the very bottom of the odds and ends drawer in the kitchen. He put it there so Sarah wouldn't find it. Because he had discovered something very useful about good and bad posture as far as Sarah was concerned.
If he slopped and slouched around the Buy More, home, the mall, the park – anywhere that Sarah was with him – she would have a reason to scold him mercilessly and show him how to straighten up by grabbing his wrists and forcing his hands out of his pockets, gripping his shoulders and pushing them back and out and maybe even cupping his chin in the palm of her hand and levering his neck back to encourage him to adopt a stance more to her liking.
It was even better if she attacked him from behind. She would wrap her arms around him to get his hands out of his pockets, and he would have to remember not to relax into it so much that he gave himself away. Then reaching up and sliding her hands over his shoulders to the front, she would wrench them back, giving him the old, "For goodness sakes, Chuck, I don't know why you can't just stand up straight," and then follow with his favorite part, the head jerk. To accomplish this, Sarah would have to get really close to his back, close enough so that her chest pressed against the back of his ribs, and put one hand on each side of his jaw so she could pull his head into place. This maneuver also helped to keep his mouth closed and his tongue from hanging out at the delicious sensation.
And it didn't seem to matter to Sarah whether he was sitting or standing or leaning, she wouldn't hesitate to take on a schoolmarm look, hands on hips, then launch herself towards him, arms extended. It was very easy for Chuck to imagine that she was actually throwing herself into his arms and, on more than a few occasions, he had stopped himself just in time from swinging his arms up and apart to welcome her into his embrace. If he could figure out a good escape line for it, he was going to try to pull that off one day to see what it would feel like. Because Chuck suspected it might be just north of fantastic.
So as long as Sarah kept insisting that he correct his posture and as long as she kept doing it by brute force, Chuck was going to keep slouching and slopping and secretly smiling and loving it.