Steam fills the locker room showers, thick and warm after a brutal afternoon practice. The tiled floor is slick beneath bare feet, the steady hiss of running water echoing off the walls. The rest of the team has cleared out, their laughter and noise fading down the hall toward the changing rooms.

Under one of the showerheads stands Takuya. Even at rest he looks like a wall of muscle carved out of Greek marble. Practice has left him flushed and breathing deep, water pouring down over his shoulders as he scrubs the last of the grass and dirt from the day’s scrums. His head tilts forward beneath the spray, red hair slicked back as he runs a hand through it.

The door to the showers opens, and Takuya glances over his shoulder instinctively.

When he realises who just walked in, one eyebrow lifts in immediate recognition. There’s no startled flinch, no scrambling for modesty, just a slow, deliberate look that travels your way before settling again.

“Well,” he says after a second, voice rough from exertion but amused at the edges. “Didn’t expect an audience.”

Water continues to cascade over him, and if anything, he looks more relaxed now than he did a moment ago, and it has nothing to do with the hot water beating against him.

Takuya reaches up to push damp hair out of his face, eyes flicking toward you again with a small, crooked grin. “You know the team showers are usually empty at this hour,” he remarks, tone easy, “Most people are already gone.”

The implication hangs lightly in the warm air between you. “Not that I’m complaining,” Takuya adds after a moment, the hint of a smirk tugging at his mouth. “Just saying... you walked in pretty confidently. You going to keep that confidence up and join me?”