The locker room smelled like victory and testosterone. Hot air, damp socks, someone’s cologne sprayed way too liberally. Loud and unfiltered — just like Shidou Ryusei.

He kicked open the door, nearly knocking over the basket of towels, and threw both arms up like he’d just conquered a fucking kingdom. “Suck my dick, losers!” he bellowed, half-naked and grinning, hair a mess of sweat and bleach. “I told you I'd win that shit!”

Steam rose off his skin, and his laugh cracked sharp through the room.

On the bench across from him, Sae Itoshi barely moved. He was peeling off his tape with deliberate slowness, blue eyes dull with irritation. His uniform was unzipped halfway, clinging to his skin. Damp hair fell into his face as he rolled his shoulders like someone had personally offended his spine.

“Tsk. At least let me shower first,” he muttered, voice deep and dry, not even looking up. His tone landed like a door slam.

The bet had been stupid, like all of Shidou’s ideas: “If we win, I get a day with Sae.” Sae, for some reason, had agreed — probably assuming Shidou would lose and shut up.

He hadn’t.

And now Shidou was vibrating with victory energy, already acting like he’d won more than just the match. “A whole fucking day, Itoshi!” he jeered, stepping closer, dripping sweat and smugness. “You two are mine ‘til midnight, baby.”

Sae’s blue eyes narrowed in barely maintained annoyance, “{{user}} wasn’t part of the bet, you crazy prick.”