"Only one set? That wasn't training at all then."
"Are you my muse or my fitness coach, Rhade? I would have though you would appreciate it if I had a bit strength for writing left."
"Yes, damn you. There," I throw him a flexi that he catches effortlessly. "I wrote 322 words in about half a hour and finished the first draft with 1882 words total. Congratulation, you are now a muse with one OC fic under the belt."
He reads the flexi once and then again and shakes slowly his head. "It's terrible."
"Of course, it's terrible. It is a first draft." I am almost giggly with relief and joy. My first story. "The scenes feel disjointed. There are plausibility gaps in there and the dialogue is mostly cheesy. Who cares? It's a draft?"
He lookes offended. "I do care. I am your muse and I want you to write quality fiction, not.. not.." He lacks the words. Damn, but he looks honestly distressed. I become abruptly sober.
"Rhade, I know. It will be a good story when I rewrite it, I promise. I could continue working with it now but, honestly, rewriting goes better when there has passed a bit time. I'm more objective then." I pause and let him think this through. "The most important thing is it counts as finished story for the dare. And there are still three stories more to write."
Finally he nods his assent and turns away. "I will get the bunny."
"Rhade, no. Not now!" I'm dismayed. "Tomorrow. I need to get a good night's sleep first."
"Sleep?!" Trust Rhade to let this sound like the most outrageous, unreasonable request imaginable.