Work Text:
It’s freezing.
You stomp your feet, hoping to bring some life back into them while you wait for the doors of Beast Mode Fitness to open. As your mouth pulls wide open in a yawn yet again, you try to remember why you thought this was a good idea in the first place.
“Good morning!”
You close your eyes in irritation and take a deep breath through your nose before you turn to find the source of the excruciatingly exuberant greeting.
“Great day for a workout, eh?”
You want to roll your eyes, but you don’t. Instead, you find yourself utterly speechless as you turn to find a man approaching you wearing nothing but green spandex shorts and a loose orange tank top.
“Are you crazy?” you blurt before you can stop yourself.
He just laughs.
“I’m sure that point might be up for debate.” He actually winks at you as he says it and you wonder if this is some hypothermia-induced hallucination.
“It’s freezing,” you say, “where are your pants?”
The man simply shakes his head, “I’m warmed from within by the power of youth,” he says as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world, “no amount of winter slush could dim my fire!”
As the door to the gym finally opens and he jogs inside with a little salute goodbye, you realize you were right to think coming here at such an early hour was a mistake.
Of course only total weirdos went to the gym at four o’clock in the morning.
“Fuck.”
As if dragging yourself to work out in the middle of the night were not horrifying enough, you now have to suffer as the only other patron of the establishment besides your new spandex-wearing acquaintance, who is clearly a regular. He smiles at the staff, and they wave jubilantly at him, asking if he’s enjoying the new pre-workout they recommended.
It’s exhausting and you already feel like a warmed-over zombie as you shed your winter coat and climb onto a treadmill and begin to walk.
When you resolved to start prioritizing your physical activity, you knew it was going to be a slog. Your days of school sports were well behind you, now, and working a full-time desk job had taken a toll on your health—both mental and physical. And while you knew the answer to your state of ennui included exercise, it was much easier said than done.
Between your work and your commute and trying to stay on top of social commitments and laundry and dishes and grocery shopping now that you lived on your own, it felt like there was hardly time to collapse on the couch and watch a few hours of mindless television while you ate a sub-par dinner before you went to bed.
But you are determined to make this change. You’re tired of feeling like garbage. You count yourself lucky you hadn’t lost much flexibility; you can still drop into a backbend without issue and it’s not as if you needed to look any different, you just… want to experience that dopamine high that comes with exercising.
Besides, what if one day you aren’t the only zombie roaming the streets? What if there’s an alien invasion? You don’t need to be the strongest or the fastest; just strong and fast enough to survive. The ridiculous thoughts swirling through your mind help perk you up a bit. What’s the point of running on a soulless treadmill if you can’t make it at least a little fun?
It’s with these end-of-world fantasies cascading through your mind that you put your headphones in and increase your speed, trying desperately not to feel self-conscious when you have to slow down a few minutes later and walk for a bit.
It’s okay, you tell yourself. It’s your first day back. And you decided to come when the gym opened because no one would be here so no one will see you looking like an idiot.
You staunchly ignore the needling voice in the back of your head that reminds you someone is, in fact, here with you, but your shorts-wearing companion seems quite content to lift weights in a far corner of the gym and pay you no mind at all, which you’re just fine with.
At least, until you want to use the weights. But by the time you finish your moderate jog, he’s still there. And while you know, logically, there’s no reason the two of you can’t lift weights at the same time, the idea of walking over and standing in the same matted area as anyone else is mortifying. Especially because you only have a half-vague idea of what you want to do or should be doing.
You could ask one of the staff members, probably, but that’s an even more horrifying idea.
Instead, you decide you are sweaty enough for the day and throw your coat back on to head home. You figure you’ll be back the next morning and the one after, if all goes to plan, so you’ll be able to get some weight time in at some point when the other man isn’t around.
Except, you soon discover, he is always around. And always in shorts. The next morning, you stand shivering in front of the door at three-fifty-eight when you hear the ice crunching under someone’s feet as they approach at a quick enough pace to make you turn around and throw a few ineffectual fists up as if you have any idea how to defend yourself.
The man laughs, though it doesn’t seem to have any derision in it—like he’s laughing at you—he just seems to be laughing at the situation in general, maybe even himself a little.
“My apologies!” he half-shouts, wearing shorts and a tank top again despite the frigid weather.
You duck your face inside the high collar of your coat when you start wondering how hard his nipples must be in this air in order to hide your blush.
“I didn’t mean to startle you,” he says, teeth gleaming as he grins.
“It’s okay,” you say, “I’m just… not fully awake, yet.”
You punctuate the declaration with a yawn, and he chuckles again.
“It seems you’re new to the early morning workout thing, huh?”
You nod. “Yeah. I figure if I can drag my ass out of bed at 3:30 for a whole week hopefully my body will adjust.”
He claps you on the shoulder good-naturedly and you buckle under the force of his hand. You realize the weightlifting definitely isn’t just for show.
“I’m sure you’ll be accustomed to it in no time. I myself think this is the best time of day for exercise! You can’t have a bad day when you start it off on the right foot!”
The door opens and he jogs past you into the gym with another wave.
The same thing happens the next day and the next. Without fail, you arrive at the gym within moments of your new gym buddy, and he is always wearing tight spandex shorts and a tank top that shows off his obliques and arms.
Each morning, he goes to the weight station and lifts while you plod away on the treadmill. As you leave on the fifth day, you stop at the front desk to ask one of the two bored-looking college students manning it, “Is he here every day?”
They give a cursory glance over their shoulder. “Gai?” they snort, “Yeah, I think he’s here more than I am.”
The thought gives you pause because you realize that if you ever want to get your hands on any of those free weights, you will eventually have to get over your insecurity and have to do so in front of him.
“Gotcha,” you say, “thanks.”
They return their attention to whatever textbook they have in their lap, and you head home for a shower.
Well, you think as you leave, at least now I know his name.
True to the staff member’s word, Gai is there the next week when you return to your new schedule. You gave yourself the weekend off and the second Monday morning of your newly adopted routine is an absolute struggle.
“Good morning!”
You groan as you turn to face Gai. “Is it, though? Is it a good morning?” You can’t help the sarcasm in your tone; your body feels like it’s been made out of badly set concrete, like you’re about to crumble into dust in the slush at your feet.
Gai just smiles, clasping your shoulder and giving you a little shake. “You can do it!” he assures you. “Someone as determined as you will definitely succeed!”
You frown. “You don’t know what kind of a person I am.”
“Ah, that’s not true,” Gai says, “I can see the same passionate, youthful fire in your eyes I did the first day you came here. You wouldn’t be here if you weren’t determined.”
The door opens and he wishes you a good workout before he’s gone.
By Wednesday, you decide you’ve had enough of being intimidated by Gai. Sure, the man obviously knows what he’s doing. According to the limited information you have, he is the definition of a gym rat and it shows.
Even if you think his wearing shorts in the dead of winter is insane, you have to admit that if your ass looked like that, you might be tempted to do the same. You shake your head to clear it of such thoughts. Don’t be gross, you think, how would you like it if someone said that about you.
So today, as your jog comes to an end, you gather up your jacket and your water bottle and make your way over to the weights section with your headphones firmly planted over your ears. From what you’ve seen, Gai doesn’t wear headphones while he works out, and as nice as he’s been, you aren’t really interested in inviting further conversation.
It isn’t even five AM yet, you’re not ready for small talk with a stranger. His overly cheerful greetings are already more than enough social interaction for this time of morning.
You set your belongings down on the floor against the wall and approach the free weights a bit dubiously. You search out the smallest ones you can find—a pair of twelve-and-a-half pound dumbbells that look like they’ve never been touched. Apparently, most of the clientele at Beast Mode Fitness doesn’t deign the tiny weights worthy of use.
You take them in your hands and step back, widening your stance so you have a good solid base before beginning to curl your forearms up in tandem. You can feel the tight pull in your biceps as you complete the motion, and you smile at the slight burn that sings its way through your muscles as you lower the weights again.
Without meaning to, your gaze slides away from your own in the mirror and soon you find Gai’s reflection as he uses the Smith machine to do some impossibly deep squats with what appears to be roughly the weight of a freight train attached to the bar balanced over his shoulders.
On his next rep, his eyes flash over to meet yours and he gives you an encouraging smile.
You snap your head back forward, embarrassed at having been caught out. Still, you think, he didn’t seem upset that you were looking at him.
A man like Gai is probably plenty used to receiving attention from people at the gym.
Once you finish your bicep curls, you move on to a few tricep kickbacks and by that point, you’re even confident enough to lie down on one of the many vacant benches and try some chest flys.
It’s a mistake, you realize the next morning because your pecs burn while your arms pump during your jog. Still, you feel accomplished, and you realize it was silly to be intimidated by Gai. He may be in exquisite shape, but he’s also gone out of his way to be genuinely friendly. There’s nothing to be worried about. Even if you do something stupid or look silly, he doesn’t seem the sort of person to criticize or judge you for it.
The weeks stretch on, the early mornings getting easier, if colder, somehow. You continue to jog on the treadmill, having to walk less and less. You increase your speed and feel light on your feet, so you add a little incline.
You immediately regret the decision, your quadriceps screaming in protest, and so you lower it again.
You continue to lift weights a few times a week, too, though beyond the very basic moves you’re already doing, you aren’t really sure what else you could try. You eye the Smith machine enviously, but are too shy to as Gai about using it.
Then, one morning, Gai isn’t waiting outside with you. You find you’re actually a little concerned when he doesn’t show up with a cheerful smile and too-loud voice before the doors open.
And when they do, you immediately ask, “Do you know where Gai is?”
You realize it’s the first time you’ve said his name out loud because Gai hasn’t actually introduced himself to you, yet; you just know his name because of the kid at the front desk.
The same one who gives you a curiously confused look now, “No? Should I?”
Of course not, you think, as you laugh and wave away your question. Still, you keep peeking at the door as you jog, waiting for him to come in. Even though the two of you never talk once you enter the gym, you realize how much his presence has come to be a certainty for you. The space feels awkward and empty without him, especially when you make your way over to the weight section.
You pause, though, staring at the Smith machine Gai typically uses to do squats, deadlifts, and lunges. There’s only one in the gym, given it’s rather small—"a boutique experience" they said when you purchased your ridiculously expensive membership—and now might be your only chance to try it out.
You take one last look at the door and, still seeing no indication Gai is coming, set your heavy coat down on the ground and decide to give it a try.
It takes you a few minutes to figure out how it works, and you swap out the plates that are on it (silently cursing whoever left the heavy things in place the night before despite the clear instructions on the side of the machine stating you are to re-rack your own weights) and replace them with the smallest ones you can find.
You settle into position beneath the bar, balancing it over your trapezius as you’d seen Gai do on countless occasions. He usually also has a towel that he drapes over his shoulders, but you’re wearing a t-shirt instead of a tank top, so you hope it won’t be too uncomfortable.
You take a deep breath, wriggling your hips a little side to side to get comfortable in the squat position, and then you bend your knees, stick your ass out, and keep your chest lifted as you descend.
Your squat isn’t as deep as Gai’s, definitely not, but you look down to make sure your knees are pointing forward over your feet, that you can still see your toes, so you know your form is okay. Slowly, you straighten your legs, leaving a little micro bend in them.
You can’t help grinning. You feel like you’ve just won a medal. Sure, it’s only a single squat, but it feels so good to be able to do it!
You try a few more, realizing you could probably switch the plates out for something a little heavier, but you figure maybe for the first set you should just stick with what you have.
When you finish your last squat, the bar plops back in place on the teeth of the Smith machine with a satisfying clang.
You’re just about to change the plates out and try again when you hear an amused chuckle behind you.
“You know, if you wanted to use it, you just had to ask. No reason to kill my car battery so I had to wait for a jump in order to get here.”
You can feel embarrassment seeping through your body, armpits prickling with sweat, when you turn to find Gai smirking at you, arms crossed over his chest.
His biceps look especially good today with the way they’re folded together, and you step out from under the bar with an apologetic smile.
“S-Sorry! I didn’t know you were there! By all means…” you gesture toward the bar to let him know it’s all his.
But Gai just tilts his head back and laughs. The sound is loud and warm, it fills the whole gym and surrounds you like the warm coat you’ve flung to the ground. You can’t help but watch the apple of his throat as it bobs in rhythm with the sound.
“Nonsense!” he says, “You’ve just started your set!” He unfolds his arms and walks closer, setting a water bottle down next to yours. “Here, let me help, you were going to change the plates, right?”
You’re still a little flustered, but you nod. “Yeah, I think I need something just a little heavier.”
“I could tell,” he says, “those squats were far too easy, you obviously have very strong legs!”
You feel that embarrassment in your belly again and turn away to start switching out the plates. Adding a measly five pounds.
“Are you sure you don’t want more?” Gai asks. “I think you could do at least ten on each.”
“I’d rather start small.”
“Of course!” he says, giving you another encouraging smile. “You know best!”
You don’t, really, you think, but it’s nice of him to say so.
Gai watches you complete your set, and you feel like a moth pinned under glass, a specimen for him to analyze or dissect. When you finish, you step away from the machine and incline your head.
“Sorry again for taking your spot, it’s all yours.”
Gai’s brows, which are thick and dark, knit together over his nose and he shakes his head. “It’s not my spot. Sure, I use the Smith machine to lift but that’s only because I don’t have anyone to spot for me. You’re here every day, same as I am, there’s no reason we can’t use it together.”
You think about protesting another time, but then you realize there’s really no point. He’s right, it’s stupid that you’ve never even asked if you could try the machine. You wonder what it must be like to live your life with such a straightforward lack of anxiety. You can’t remember the last time you spoke to a stranger without hyping yourself up for ten minutes first.
“Okay,” you say finally, adding a flat, “sounds good,” good measure.
“Wonderful!”
You help Gai rack his own weights (a feat, considering how heavy the individual plates are) and step back while he does his own set of squats. You move behind him so he can observe his form in the mirror if he wants to and then immediately realize this is a mistake.
Because when Gai bends his knees and sits back, the green spandex of his shorts stretches impossibly tighter over his thighs and ass, and from where you’re standing, you have a perfect view.
You swallow, sending your eyes to the ceiling so they won’t be tempted to look at his backside as completes his reps.
When he finishes, his brow is dotted with sweat, his dark hair sticking to his forehead. He swipes at it with the hem of his tank top, revealing his toned midsection and a trail of sparse, dark hair that leads from his navel below the elastic of his shorts.
Okay, so maybe this wasn't such a great idea.
“I’m Gai Maito, by the way,” he says, which snaps you out of your trance.
“Oh! Hi!”
The introduction takes you by surprise, since you’ve known his name for a while, now. He looks at you expectantly and you realize he’s waiting for you to reciprocate his gesture of friendliness.
“Sorry!” you say, dragging your palms over your face, exhausted by your own ineptitude.
Gai chuckles, “It’s okay, I know you aren’t really an early morning person.” He punctuates the light jibe with a wink and you grin, shaking your head before giving him your name, extending your hand toward him. He takes it, his fingers wrapping solidly around yours, grip firm, but not overly so.
You wonder for a moment what else those hands might be capable of.
“Ready for another round?” he asks, enthusiasm shining brightly in his dark eyes.
You nod.
You find it’s a little easier to make it to the gym after that, dragging your body out of bed when your alarm goes off at three-thirty doesn’t hurt quite so much.
You forget your headphones once, but it doesn’t matter. You just cut your run short and join Gai instead, chatting happily with him as the two of you move through your weightlifting routine.
You learn a lot from him. He’s a patient teacher with a knack for explaining things just the right way. Your form improves and so does your strength—soon you’re curling twenty-five-pound dumbbells instead of fifteen.
You and Gai exchange numbers one day after you miss the gym because you’re sick, just so you can stay in touch with one another about your schedules in case anything comes up. But what starts with casual, “See you tomorrow!”s and “Hope you feel better!”s slowly morphs into something else.
It turns out Gai is as relentlessly upbeat outside the gym as he is sitting at the leg press. And soon, he’s sending you motivational texts to help you through your monotonous workday. Recipes for meals he thinks you might enjoy (all of them delicious), and music recommendations for your running playlist.
One morning, he trips over your coat next to the Smith machine and you run over to help him up, worried you’ve caused him to twist his ankle or break his nose. He’s fine though, and hops up spryly, dusting himself off.
“Why don’t I show you the locker room?” he asks, smiling all the way.
You groan, embarrassed, and agree.
“Any reason you’ve never used it before?” Gai asks as you follow him across the gym, “I always see you dragging your coat around.”
You shrug. “Just didn’t really need it, I guess?”
He grunts in understanding, pushing the door open and letting you through first. Your shoulder brushes his chest as you walk by and you shiver a little.
The locker room is small, in keeping with the rest of the gym, and a lot of the lockers already have locks on them, clearly in regular use by other patrons.
“Here!” Gai says, strutting over to a locker and popping the combination lock open. “You can use mine until you get a lock.”
You think that really isn’t necessary—it’s not as though there’s anyone else here to steal your coat, but you’ve learned it’s often easier to just go along with Gai’s kind suggestions than argue with him about them.
“Thanks, Gai,” you say, draping your jacket over the hook inside. A quick glance at the content of the locker proves this is where Gai gets his workout towels from each morning. He also has what looks like a shower kit and a bath towel, as well as a small duffel bag in the bottom.
“Do you shower here every day?” you ask as you close the locker and press the lock closed.
“Only on days when I have class after,” he says.
“Class?” you ask, leading the way out and holding the door open for him this time, letting your eyes flick down to appreciate his ass for just a second as he struts past you.
“Yes! I teach martial arts at a school nearby.”
Suddenly, the fact that he spends so much time in the gym without it affecting his job makes a lot more sense.
“What style of martial arts do you teach?”
Gai turns to beam at you, as if no one has ever bothered asking him this question before. “It’s a mixed martial arts school, but I teach mostly the grappling classes.”
He continues chattering about his work for a while, talking about all the different kinds of techniques you can use while grappling.
You hardly register most of the words, though, because you’re too focused on what it would be like to wrestle with a sweaty Gai on a floor mat. You ask him to spot you while you do some chest presses just to distract your brain from the conversation.
You know you’ve developed quite a crush on Gai during your weeks at the gym. You imagine anyone who spent as much with him would have no choice. He’s friendly and kind. A little odd and certainly boisterous, but endearingly so. He’s generous with both his knowledge and his praises, plus he’s… beautiful, honestly. His dark hair is cut a little strangely, but it frames his face nicely, complimenting his heavy eyebrows. And when he concentrates while he’s working at an increased weight, the face he makes is…
Anyway, you’re sure you aren’t the only one fanning yourself when you walk with him to gather your things from your new locker and Gai drapes a towel over his shoulders to hit the showers.
The two of you text one another almost every day and sometimes, you can’t tell if maybe he’s actually flirting with you. You certainly don’t hold back anymore, grinning like an idiot while you tease him about his penchant for eating dango after his workouts instead of a proper meal.
You still haven’t spent any time with him outside the gym, but you toy with the idea.
And then, one Friday afternoon when he sends you, “Have a great weekend! Can’t wait to see you on Monday!” you chew your lip and then type a message and hit send too quick for you to talk yourself out of it.
Gai has told you his Friday nights are usually spent at home; after a long week, he likes to relax and do nothing, so you figure this might be your chance.
You send him, “Can’t wait to see you again, either!” And then, eleven horrifyingly long seconds after, “Want to meet up for a drink?”
The brief flutter of hope in your chest dies almost instantly when Gai informs you that he can’t, he already has plans for the evening, but maybe another time. Any bravado you managed to build up over the preceding weeks fades away.
You are just his gym buddy. You aren’t going to be anything else.
So you stop texting him about your weekend plans. When he asks, you just say, “Not too much, see you Monday!” The exclamation point, you hope, intoning false cheer that appears genuine on his phone screen. You don’t send him the funny cat-with-a-tortoise video that comes across your feed on Sunday afternoon.
On Monday, you tell him you strained something in your shoulder over the weekend, so you can’t lift. He espouses all the ways you can support your muscles while they heal, and you pretend to listen.
You wish his rejection—kind as it was—didn’t hurt so much, but it does.
A week later, you’re still feigning an injury when Gai catches you in the locker room. You’re about to pull on your jacket to head home when he walks in, an unusually pensive look on his face. You decide a frown does not suit his face in the least.
You assume he’s just in there to grab a towel or something, so you give him a nod of acknowledgment before shrugging your coat on. It’s technically spring, but the cold bite of winter lingers in the air, and you can’t wait until you can make these early morning gym commutes without sweating to death in your car.
“Is everything okay?” Gai asks.
You turn to find him still frowning and shrug. “Yeah, I told you, I just hurt my shoulder.”
He nods thoughtfully, as if he’s really considering the veracity of your statement.
“Are you sure?” he asks again.
You want to dismiss him and leave, but he’s standing between you and the door, and you think you know him well enough by now that he’s not going to let you go without at least a half-truthful answer. He’s just stubborn enough to make this difficult for you.
You sigh heavily, zipping your jacket and shoving your hands into the pockets, balling them into fists.
“I just… need a little space, I think.”
His face falls. “Oh.”
Gai doesn’t move and you shuffle your feet a little awkwardly, looking at a poster on the wall advertising the pre-workout you know Gai uses.
“I’m sorry.”
You snap your gaze over to find Gai looking at his feet instead of you. “About what?”
“I know I can come on a little… strong. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”
And even though you’re still upset, the last thing you want is for Gai to think he’s done something wrong. Not returning your crush is certainly not a thing to apologize for.
“No! Gai, you’re fine. Listen, my pride may be a little hurt, but it’s not your fault or anything, I just need a minute before I can look you in the eye again.” You punctuate the embarrassing response with a short chuckle, shrugging your shoulders a little in your jacket.
“Your… pride?”
You watch as Gai’s eyebrows go from tightly knitted to impossibly arched, all but disappearing beneath his dark bangs.
“Oh!”
You are not prepared for him to rush forward, not at all ready for his strong arms to wrap around your middle and for him to lift you off the ground in a bruising hug.
“Gai!” you shout, hands braced on his shoulders as you struggle to breathe. “Too… tight…”
Gai returns your feet to the tiled floor of the locker room, but he does not stop hugging you. His grip loosens a little, though, and you’re able to properly breathe.
“I was so worried,” he says, and you realize you can feel the warmth of his breath against your ear; it rushes over your cheek and under the collar of your coat, sweeping down your neck.
Despite the too-heavy coat, you shiver in his embrace.
“Why were you worried?” you ask, confused. Gai pulls away just enough for you to see his face fully and you can see the hint of tears in his eyes. “Why are you crying?!” you demand, panic blooming hotly in your chest “is everything okay?”
He laughs again, that full-throated, whole-body sound that makes your heart double its rhythm.
“Everything is fine. I thought you didn’t like me anymore. Sometimes people get…” he pauses, clearly trying to find the right word, “overwhelmed by my enthusiasm. I thought you were off-put by me.”
You shake your head emphatically. “That’s ridiculous, you’re one of the nicest people I’ve ever met.”
You realize, belatedly, that you are still locked in Gai’s embrace. You shift your shoulders a little, thinking it will induce him to let you go, but his grip tightens minutely.
“Gai…?”
“This is about Friday, right? I think I understand now.”
Your stomach flips, not only at the fact that you’re going to have to apparently talk about your crush and the fact that he doesn’t return your feelings, but also at the fact that he’s speaking in a low, rough voice, and you can feel the reverberation from his chest into yours, even through your thick coat, where your bodies are pressed together.
The feeling sends a shockwave through you and you swallow, trying quite desperately not to think about how thin his tank top is or how tight his shorts are and finding yourself extremely glad you’ve already got your coat zipped.
“We don’t have to talk about it,” you whisper, hoping there’s still a chance for you to escape.
“No, you deserve an explanation, and I should have been clearer when I responded,” he says, “I normally would have been free on Friday, but it was the anniversary of a death and I always spend that day with a friend.”
“Oh,” you say, feeling sheepish and stupid for not realizing that Gai had a life beyond the gym, so much about him you didn’t yet know—probably never would.
“I was very flattered you invited me out on a date. It was meant to be a date, right?” You bite down harshly on your lower lip, but a moment later, before you can draw blood from beneath the thin skin, Gai’s thumb is there, brushing over it. “Don’t hurt yourself,” he whispers, and you think you might die of embarrassment right there in the locker room, still wrapped in his arms, sweating profusely in your stupid coat.
“Y-yeah…” you say, rather lamely.
You just want this interaction to be over. You want to go home, take a long, cold shower to drive away any lingering thoughts of being so closely pressed against Gai’s body, and then call out sick to work and eat ice cream on your couch while you watch terrible daytime television reruns.
“I’m very flattered.”
Flattered. The second time he used that word. Why was he doing this? Why did he feel the need to reject you again? Great, he was flattered you had a big fat crush on him—flattered that you wanted to buy him a drink just so you could watch the way his eyes sparkled and the corners of them crinkled when he smiled too big for his face, and listen to his laugh and—
“And I feel the same.”
You lift your head to look at him so fast your nose bumps against his chin.
“What?” you all but yell.
Gai laughs again and this time, you swear you can feel it in your toes.
“How could I not! You are beautiful and funny, and I’ve never met anyone but me so dedicated to taking advantage of all their youth has to offer!”
You’re not exactly sure what that last part means, but you think it’s a compliment; maybe a reference to your shared early morning gym routines.
“I don’t understand,” you say, “if you feel that way, why didn’t you say so when I asked?”
“I was distracted,” he says, “and I apologize.” He leans forward to put his forehead against yours, dark gaze boring into your own intently as he adds, “I should have made my intentions clear much sooner.”
And as with everything Gai does, the kiss is firm and unyielding; with no room for interpretation or confusion.
He dives forward, nose bumping your cheek as his mouth collides with yours. You give a little yip of surprise, but he doesn’t falter. His lips are smooth and warm, soft like he’s just applied lip balm. And given how dedicated Gai is to caring for every part of his body, you think that’s certainly not beyond the realm of possibility.
His arms are still wound tightly around you, but they press against your back to pull you somehow closer. Even through the thick material of your coat, you can now feel the hard contours of his muscles, the way his abs flex a little as he continues kissing you. You drag your limp hands from between your bodies, letting them scrape over his flimsy tank top and earning a hearty growl from him in the process.
In the next moment, you feel yourself backed against the bank of lockers, one of Gai’s strong hands cradling your head to keep it from slamming into the metal surface.
You struggle to keep up with him as his pace increases, breath hitching when one of his hands drifts low and curves around your ass, giving it an appreciative squeeze.
One of his thighs slides its way between your legs and your mouth finally detaches from his as you gasp, head tilting back at the pleasurable sensation of his leg rubbing roughly over your sex.
Gai chuckles and you feel him lift his leg a little bit, recreating the sensation with greater intention. Your fingers dig into his shoulders, and you grind your hips down against his muscular thigh, eyes closed as you feel warmth spreading from between your legs up into your belly and chest.
Gai’s mouth finds your exposed neck and he licks from where it connects to your shoulder up to the juncture of your jaw before he takes the lobe of your ear between his teeth and nibbles gently. One of your hands flies up and fists in his hair, yanking his head back so you can kiss him again, tongue demanding and searching.
The hand still on your ass sweeps under your thigh and hitches your leg up over his hip, letting you grind not against his thigh, but his manhood, which you can feel hard and thick through the flimsy material of his shorts.
“Gai… we should stop,” you say between kisses, gasping again when his teeth graze your lower lip followed by a sweep of his tongue.
You should have known Gai would approach making out with the same intensity as every other aspect of his life, but you still feel lightheaded and dizzy. As much as you want to take this further—much further, if you’re honest—you have to wonder…
“What if someone comes in?”
Gai grunts in acknowledgment of your concern and he guides your other leg around his middle. Instinctively, you hook your ankles together and wrap your arms around his neck to secure you in place. He starts walking and you’re too lost in the feel of his mouth, the salty taste of his skin, to really register where you are until you hear the door open.
He’s taken you to one of the three shower stalls, you realize, and your body feels electric at the implications. How often have you wondered what might be hiding beneath the green spandex of Gai’s shorts?
Too often, you think, a little ashamed.
When he sets you back down, Gai unzips your jacket and pushes it off your shoulders. Before it can hit the floor of the shower, he grabs it and hangs it on the hook of the far wall meant to keep towels out from beneath the wet spray of the showerhead.
You pull him back, both hands clasped against his face, demanding and desperate.
He smiles against your mouth as his hands find their way to the small of your back. You moan when you feel his fingers graze under your t-shirt, touching the sensitive skin beneath. His hands are calloused and rough from the weighted bar and his work at the martial arts studio and they feel delicious as they work their way up under your shirt, eventually stopping at the edge of your sports bra where they trace the band.
Using every ounce of willpower you once put toward waking up at three-thirty in the morning, you pull away from Gai and look at him. Your chests heave in tandem, brushing over one another as you each catch your breath.
You know you should take a step back, that this is getting out of hand. But you can feel that ache between your legs and a quick glance down makes it very obvious Gai is as turned on as you are.
The look in his eyes is unfamiliar, but not unwelcome—dark and intense. His lips are swollen from your teeth and when you run two fingers over them tenderly, Gai’s lashes flutter. You feel his hips flex against yours on instinct and you let one of your hands drift down to palm against his cock, moaning unabashedly when you feel just how hard he is.
Gai takes a breath in through his teeth, hissing as he grinds against your palm.
“Do you… d-do you…” he stutters as you continue stroking your fingers over his erection, apparently unable to finish his thought.
You smile, enjoying the way he seems so unlike himself in your hands—so gently out of control.
You muster all the courage you have to leave forward and trace your lips over the shell of his ear. “Turn the shower on,” you say in answer, “to muffle the sound.”
Gai wastes no time following your instructions, one hand all but ripping out from beneath your shirt to turn the knob.
You are immediately showered in frigid water and you shriek a little, causing Gai to chuckle. You both stand there, taking in the situation for a moment when you realize you’re still wearing your sneakers and you hurry to get them off before they soak through to your socks. Gai follows suit and you both toss your shoes toward the far wall, beyond the worst of the spray.
Gai takes a moment to adjust the temperature of the water and you admire the flex of the muscles in his arms as he does. By the time he’s finished, your shirt is soaked through, and his hair is plastered awkwardly over his forehead. You laugh, pushing it back so you can see his handsome face in its full glory.
He stares at you with something you can only pinpoint as both lust and adoration, watching your face intently as you trace your hand down to the hem of his tank top before slowly beginning to peel it upward.
It’s not as if the flimsy piece of cloth does much to hide Gai’s physique, but you’re still stricken speechless when you lift it up and he helps you remove it. Your hands immediately fly back to his chest, palms caressing over the firm muscles there, tracing over his taut abdomen down to the waistband of his shorts and then back up.
Gai leans down to kiss you again, but it’s slower this time, less feverish though no less intense. He moves his chin forward a little with each kiss, like he’s nipping at your mouth. It’s unique and you find it completely intoxicating, especially when he continues the movement to trail kisses over your neck and the line of your collarbone beneath your shirt.
His hands grip the hem of your shirt and tug, signaling his intention before he starts to undress you. You lift your arms eagerly in response to make it easier for him and you can feel that lovely smile of his against your mouth when he rids you of your shirt.
It’s then Gai stops kissing you so he can pull back to admire you without the hindrance of your t-shirt.
You feel immediately self-conscious. Gai is god-like in his appearance, every inch of him seemingly fine-tuned to perfection. But Gai makes no indication that he’s let down by your appearance.
In fact, he reaches down to stroke himself through his spandex shorts while he takes his time admiring you, eyelids drifting low over his eyes as he licks his lips.
“Just lovely…”
“Huh?” but your question is cut short when Gai’s mouth finds yours again, rough palms cupping your breasts through your sports bra. You arch your back toward his hands, wanting more. In response, Gai’s hands follow the trail of the material around your back where there is a clasp, which he undoes.
You have never in your life been more grateful for improvements to sports bra design because if you’d had to awkwardly shimmy out of a sopping wet compression bra by yanking it over your head in front of Gai Maito, you’re pretty sure you would run from the gym drenched in both water and embarrassment never to return.
When your tits are free, you press them against Gai’s chest, latching your mouth to his again in desperation. The way his tongue moves against yours makes you think you’ll never get tired of this feeling.
Gai’s hands are everywhere—curving against the outline of your breasts, caressing over the sensitive dip of your waist, scratching the skin just above the waistband of your leggings—it’s heavenly.
Your hands are no less greedy, fingers spread wide as you map the definition of his back and shoulders, trailing them over his muscular biceps, drifting to his ass to fully embrace the firmness you’ve been admiring for weeks.
Gai’s right hand slows its explorations until his middle finger is just caressing the skin below your navel gently back and forth, asking permission.
You give it with a forceful roll of your hips biting down on his lower lip at the same moment. He chuckles, once again guiding you until your back collides with the cool tile of the shower stall. You almost forgot where you are, despite the constant spray from the showerhead, but the cold sting of the ceramic against your back makes you gasp.
“Are you all right?” Gai asks, expression serious as he pulls away from your kisses.
“Yeah,” you assure him, “the wall’s just really cold.”
He hums, a mischievous smirk tugging at one corner of his mouth. You don’t think you’ve ever seen anything sexier. He leans forward to whisper against your ear, “Better warm you up then,” before laying a sloppy, wet kiss against your cheek at the same moment his hand dives beneath the waistband of your leggings.
His fingers waste no time reaching their destination and you whine as he traces along your entrance. You can feel how fucking wet you are already and think maybe you should be embarrassed by how turned on you are, but the low rumble emanating from the back of Gai’s throat as he explores makes it pretty clear he doesn’t think you should be embarrassed in the slightest.
When his middle finger slips inside you, you moan and he chuckles again, “Careful,” he says as he strokes your inner walls slowly, “the shower can only hide so much.
You muffle your next moan against his skin, burying your face in his neck and whining when he presses his ring finger inside you, too, while his thumb searches for your clit.
He finds it the same moment he curls his fingers inside you to graze your g-spot and you have to bite down against his shoulder to keep from screaming.
“That’s it,” he says, and though you’ve heard those words from him dozens of times as you adjusted your stance or fixed your form, they sound so utterly different in this context you feel dizzy again.
You bring one of your legs up to latch around his hips so you can grind against his hand, bucking your hips in time with his movements. And if his fingers feel this good inside you, you can’t imagine what it’s going to be like when he actually fucks you.
Your bliss is cut short by the sound of the locker room door slamming open.
In a single synchronized movement, your leg undrapes from Gai’s his and his hand slides out from your leggings to steady you by the shoulder.
You hear some happy chatter from two voices and realize you’ve been in the shower for so long that other people must be trickling into the gym.
While you think you should probably be mortified, something rebellious and deviant sparks inside your chest.
Gai is looking over his shoulder, standing perfectly still as if he’s afraid any slight movement will alert your new companions to your compromised position in the shower stall.
You use his distraction to your advantage, curling your fingers beneath the elastic of his shorts and sliding them down. Gai’s head snaps back to look at you, eyes wide. But whatever he sees on your face—you hope your expression is half as sexy and coy as you’re trying for—makes his surprise fade quickly.
You lower his shorts with no small amount of effort—the soaked spandex sticks to every inch of him as you work them down over his thick thighs. When his cock finally springs free, he hisses and one of the voices from the locker room calls out, “You okay in there, Gai?”
You realize it’s the college kid from the desk and they must be using their break to squeeze in a workout.
There’s no time to admire Gai’s impressive cock if you want to take full advantage of the situation, so you immediately circle the base with one hand as your other thumb starts rubbing over the tip. Gai’s head dips against your shoulder as he strains to hold back a groan.
“Fine!” he finally manages, “Just s-sore today!”
He shudders against you as start to pump him with both hands, squeezing firmly on the way up before loosening your grip on the way back down. His cock is velvety-soft in your hands, the skin slick from the combination of the shower and his precum as you diligently spread it from head to base.
“Have you tried the new recovery balm we started carrying? I know it seems like a gimmick, but it totally helped my hamstrings after that half marathon last week.”
Gai bites his lower lip hard as your thumb teases the slit of his cock before he manages to choke out, “N-no, not yet, but I’ll…” his eyes squeeze closed when one of your hands cups his balls, massaging them as you continue to pump his cock. “I’ll pick some up on my way out.”
“Okay, sounds good!”
The two people in the locker room linger a little longer and you never stop stroking Gai’s dick, altering your pace and pressure, watching his face for the slightest flicker so you can learn exactly what he likes best.
And Gai is a beautiful sight like this, mouth parted and eyes closed, handsome jaw flexing as he tries not to moan aloud until you both hear the locker room door open and close again.
The moment it does, he lets out a sound that is half-whine, half-growl before slamming his mouth against yours, hands clasping over your ears as he thrusts into your hands.
When he pulls away, his strong fingers immediately find your leggings and push them as far down your legs as he can in a single motion.
You release his cock to finish the job for him, wriggling out of your leggings and tossing them aside. Gai does the same, finally removing his spandex shorts entirely.
You giggle.
“What?” he asks, raising an eyebrow questioningly as his fingers dig through his shorts apparently in search of something, though you can’t imagine what.
“I just think it’s funny neither of us wears underwear.”
He laughs and the sound feels even warmer in such an enclosed space. Eventually, he finds what he’s looking for, and you’re shocked to see him extract a condom from somewhere within the twisted fabric of his shorts.
You ask him incredulously, “Where were you hiding that?”
But Gai just gives you a self-satisfied smirk as he rips open the square packet and steps close to you. “A youthful man must always be prepared,” he says in a low voice, and you laugh at his mock seriousness, gaze drifting down to watch as he unrolls the condom over his cock, cunt fluttering in anticipation of what is about to happen.
When your eyes meet his again, he’s watching you just as intently.
“Are you ready for me?”
Gai’s hands are on your hips, caressing over your bare ass for the first time. He gives it a light smack and you hum in response. “Yes.”
Gai guides your leg over his hip again, looking down as he adjusts himself, dragging the head of his latex-covered cock through your slick before positioning himself at your entrance. You wrap your arms around his neck and he locks his eyes with yours as he slides slowly inside you.
The pressure is intense, Gai’s thick cock pushing against your walls, filling you far more than his fingers or anyone else you’ve ever fucked. His gaze is intense as he watches your face contort in pleasure, mouth pulling open in a silent scream of pleasure as you adjust to him.
He bottoms out with a grunt, and you moan appreciatively.
“Okay?” he asks, and the fact that he even bothers checking in with you when you can feel how tense he is, how desperately he wants to keep moving, just proves your affections for your gym partner are not misplaced.
You nuzzle against his neck, his jaw, his cheek, dragging your nose against his slicked skin. The water has long since gone cold, but you don’t care. All you can do is hold onto the man in front of you, try to memorize the feeling of him inside you.
“Give me all the youthful passion you’ve got,” you whisper against his ear again, and that’s all the inducement Gai requires to begin moving.
You tense unexpectedly, expecting him to begin fucking into you roughly. But instead, Gai is slow and steady, cock stroking your inner walls languorously. Each thrust is long and deliberate; he pulls out slowly until he’s almost out of you completely, and then he thrusts back up into you, pausing when he’s as deep inside you as he can be and lingering there a moment.
You groan in ecstasy at the feeling of his dick hitting every inch of your insides and you marvel at his self-control because all you want to do is ride his cock with abandon until you cum all over his lap.
How he manages to stretch this experience out, keeping that same, steady rhythm for what feels like hours, is more than impressive, it’s exquisite. His knees are bent so he can hit that perfectly sensitive spot inside you at just the right angle and you suddenly have a newfound appreciation for all the squats he’s had you doing because otherwise you’re pretty sure you would have already collapsed against the floor of the shower.
Instead, you start to move in time with him, earning you a lovely moan of gratitude against your neck from Gai as you begin grinding your hips in a circular motion.
“Gai…” you sigh.
“I’m close,” he promises, grip tightening against your ass as his hips jerk forward unexpectedly.
You both moan and you’re sure the shower is doing nothing to camouflage the sounds you’re making anymore. You imagine anyone in the gym area beyond the locker room knows full well what is happening, but you don’t care. All that matters is Gai and the incredible pleasure he’s giving you.
Finally, his self-control begins to slip, and his thrusts come faster and harder than ever before. Your voice echoes high and desperate off the walls of the shower and your grip tightens around his neck.
When he finishes, it’s with a wanton roar and your cunt clenches around him in response to the sound of his voice filling your ears, his hands pulling you close as he remains buried inside you riding out his orgasm.
“Fuck,” he says against your shoulder.
You can’t help but giggle. “Yeah…”
The two of you take a few minutes to recover yourselves, and when you do, you are hit with a sudden realization that makes you groan.
“Everything okay?” Gai asks, cleaning himself off under the ice-cold shower.
“Yeah, it’s just… You don’t happen to have a spare change of clothes in your locker, do you?”
Gai grins. “Oh, I do. But you’re not gonna like it.”
You know exactly what he means and for the first time since the two of you kissed, you begin to regret your actions.
As you and Gai walk out of the gym, both wearing matching green spandex shorts, you avoid eye contact with anyone at all costs. Both staff members—the one working out with a friend and the one still stuck behind the desk—gawk at the pair of you without even trying to mask their surprise.
You hide your face with one hand, but Gai—confident and assured as ever—waves goodbye with a hearty smile. “See you tomorrow!”
You’re not at all sure they’ll be seeing you tomorrow, though. Because you don’t think you can look either of them in the eyes ever again.
As the two of you walk toward your cars, Gai chatting happily about places you can go for a proper breakfast since you’re planning to call out of work, you turn to face him with a serious expression.
“Do you know any other gyms that are open early?”
His brows knit together in that way you’ve come to expect any time you catch him off guard. “Not really. Why?”
“Because I can obviously never show my face there again,” you say, “God, how embarrassing.”
Gai tilts his head back and laughs, much to your mock irritation, so you lean over and kiss his throat. He makes a strangled noise of surprise and then snaps his head back up to look at you. His shocked expression quickly mirrors your own sly grin, however, and he chuckles again.
When he pulls you into a hug, you return the embrace easily, enjoying the feeling of being encompassed by his body. Gai Maito, to absolutely no surprise, gives the best hugs. Even with your coat still on, his warmth radiates through the fabric to your skin and you hum, content.
The spell of his embrace is broken when Gai whispers, “Never be embarrassed by the power of youth.”
You groan. What on earth have you gotten yourself into?