[Scene: A bustling gym locker room, post-workout]

Y/n, a pudgy but confident guy in his 20s, pushes open the locker room door with a cheerful grin, towel slung over one shoulder and his phone in hand. He’s sweaty, flushed from his last set of assisted pull-ups (which he jokingly called “vertical naps”), and humming to himself.

Y/n (to himself, grinning): “Well, well, if it isn’t the Temple of Testosterone…gosh it smells like men.”

Inside, the room falls into a curious silence. Three of the gym’s biggest guys—hulking, chiseled, and mid-conversation—turn as he walks in. Their expressions register surprise at first. After all, Y/n wasn’t exactly the kind of body-type that would go willingly into their zone. He was more… Couch potato shaped than deadlifts and grunts.

But Y/n doesn’t care. He tosses his towel on a bench and sits down.

One of the big guys—Marco, all biceps and beard—raises an eyebrow, then cracks a grin. Another, Dante, lets out a low chuckle. The vibe shifts.