Years passed by like a gust of wind, and Simon stepped down from his podium as lieutenant of task force 141, the steely robust body he once had honed and built through excruciating training diminished since his retirement.

He had now what you would call a ‘dad bod’, mild beer belly with disused muscles, though his physique was still very much defined. He became so self conscious of this that he wouldn’t do anything remotely intimate with you and if he did, the shirt stayed on.

One day though, you were able to see his bare upper half since he’d just gotten out the shower, a towel wrapped around his waist. He felt your intense gaze burning holes through him. “What r’ you starin’ at?”