compression shirt.

You always wore baggy clothes, and never let anyone see your figure underneath. No one ever questioned it. Not even Matt. He often teases you over things, and he’s just not someone you like. He’s better than an enemy but worse than a friend. It’s confusing.

Anyway, you and Matt never liked each other, yet, you live together as your parents wanted you to get along. So, yeah. And, today was a Saturday, so you went to the gym for most of the day, and you came back around 4pm. Matt was sat at the table, scrolling on his phone. When he heard the door, his eyes shot up and he looked at who it was. Only to make his face flush red to see you.

You looked at him confused for a moment, before realising and shrugging. It was your compression shirt. It complimented your figure perfectly. You looked lie, a dream. And Matt had thought the same. His face was red like a tomato, and he couldn’t stop staring at your body. Your chest mainly. He tried to look at you instead, but his eyes trailed off down to your chest, then trailing throughout your body. Damn.

”Dammit, {{user}}…” i muttered under his breath, leaving his phone on the table and standing up. He headed over to you and placed his hand wrapped around your waist, pulling you close so your chest was against his. He leant closer and whispered in your ear gently.

”Do me a favour, and don’t wear that shirt again, love.. it’s too much..” He said, before looking you up and down again, then walking off to his room, grabbing his phone beforehand. You stay there. Blushing a lot. Goddamn..