Work Text:
“Scan your card here, please.”
Beep. The turnstiles unlock and you make your way through the gantry and into the exercise area.
Just another day at the gym. You aren’t particularly fond of this place, nor are you particularly sporty, but you think it would be a good idea to get out of the house and get some exercise in, considering how much of a homebody you’ve been for the past few weeks. You start ascending the narrow flight of stairs. To get to the treadmills and ellipticals, one has to make their way past lines of sweaty gym fanatics working in the weights stations, with heavy dumb bells and ten tonne bench presses. (You’re exaggerating, but it sure looks that way). As you get to the top of the stairs, you stop in your tracks. Dear lord. It can’t be-
“Hisoka?”
You gawk at the hulking man standing before you in all his sculpted and glistening glory. He is conveniently positioned facing the top of the stairs, making sure that everyone who walks in gets a front row seat to his exercise routine, or whatever sort of twisted exhibitionist performance art it is that he’s serving up. Of all the places to be meeting your ex-boyfriend, it had to be the gym.
“Why hello there, darling. I didn’t expect to see you here.”
He runs a hand through his fuchsia hair, a grin playing on his lips. The magician has abandoned his usual dramatic get-up and is instead wearing a relatively normal workout attire, save for his hair, which is teased into its usual updo with what must be copious amounts of gel. A tightly fitted Adidas tank top shows off every curve and dip of his torso, and you can just make out the carefully carved abs. You try not to stare. He smirks. He knows that you are.
“I didn’t take you for a gym rat.” You lie, deliberately looking into his face and not at his very distracting body. You’re not attracted to him in the slightest. Of course not. Anybody but him. It’s very difficult to keep lying to yourself; you’re in no way a natural, unlike the sly magician. He was a practiced liar, something you’d rudely discovered during your relationship with him.
“Really?” He looks quizzically at his biceps, deliberately flexing them while feigning confusion. You roll your eyes. “I come here every Monday, Wednesday and Friday.”
“Then I’ll be sure to avoid those days.”
You’re about to turn and walk away when a solid hand closes around your wrist and tugs. You let out a yelp as Hisoka pulls you back towards him.
“What do you say we spend some quality time together?”
One look at his face and you know that he isn’t taking no for an answer. The audacity. You try to avoid him.
“I would like to go for a run first.”
“Running is overrated. Here, try this.”
Hisoka grabs a weight from the nearby shelf and sizes you up, as if considering if the chosen weight be suitable for you. He cocks an eyebrow, then offers it to you as if it weighs nothing. You sigh, and reach out apprehensively to take it from him but even receiving it with two hands nearly sends you to your knees.
“Holy- are you /trying/ to kill me?” You curse, struggling to hold the weight with both hands. Hisoka cocks his head at you, a look of mock innocence plastered on his face.
“Too heavy? Let me help.”
Before you have time to protest, muscular arms slide along your skin, wrapping themselves around you tightly from behind, taking some of the weight off your shoulders.
“This was an excuse to touch me.” You roll your eyes and mutter under your breath, just loud enough for your ex-lover to hear. You elicit a low chuckle from the magician behind you, his chest brushing up against your tense shoulders.
“I don’t need to make up excuses to touch you, pet.”
His low voice in your ear sends shivers down your spine, and your heart rate quickens. You try not to let him notice, but your back is presently pressed against his chest, with only a thin layer of dry-fit tank top separating your bodies. You hear the smile in his voice. Yup, he definitely hears it.
“What is wrong with you?”
“If I had to list all the things, we’d be here all day.” Hisoka smirks. “Although I wouldn’t mind if that would keep you here.”
“You’re impossible.”
You make an earnest attempt to focus on completing your workout, but the redheaded jester is making this task far more difficult than necessary. The gym’s afternoon yoga session must have ended at some point, because in the middle of your gym session, a gaggle of young women in cute bralettes and tight yoga pants filed out of one of the inner rooms, chatting softly amongst themselves. You try to ignore them, but it’s obvious from the sudden spike in the intensity of their whispered exchanges and the repeated furtive glances in your direction that they’ve caught sight of your deliberately charming workout partner. Ugh, did you just call Hisoka your partner? He must be getting to you.
Against your better judgement, you cast a sidelong glance at Hisoka, only to catch him grinning widely at the girls, even having the gall to sneak a cheeky wink or two. You feel something heating up in your chest, and resist the overwhelming urge to roll your eyes. Why are you so affected by this? He’s just doing what he usually does; toying with hearts and feelings.
Without warning, Hisoka suddenly turns around, grinning from ear to ear, hands on his hips.
“Were you jealous?”
“I—What? Why would I be?”
“You are, I saw you looking.”
“Am not!”
You hastily turn away, cheeks reddening rapidly. Hisoka grabs you by the arm and pulls you to him with such force that you slam into his frighteningly taut chest, slightly damp with perspiration, the breath having been knocked out of your lungs.
“Hey—”
Arms slide around your waist and lower back, keeping your hips pressed to his. An unknown force holds you hostage, and all of a sudden, your arms are plastered to his chest; you’re unable to move them, almost as if they’ve been stuck to his chest by some sort of glue. He smiles pleasantly down at you, golden yellow irises bear into you with such intensity that you feel an overwhelming urge to look away, and yet-
Hisoka’s face is suddenly very close to yours, far too close. He smells vaguely like rose perfume and deodorant.
“Hisoka, let me go.” You hiss, trying to wiggle out of his vice grip around your waist. You make attempts to pull your hands off of him, but all you succeed in doing is squeezing his incredibly taut chest. This can’t get any worse.
“Admit you were jealous.”
“No, I wasn’t! Don’t make a scene, we’re in public!”
“I’m not the one thrashing about right now.” Hisoka shrugs, tightening his grip around you. His hips are pressing into the soft flesh of your torso, and your face is nearly level with his chest. He leans down, all smiles, gently touching his forehead to yours. He has the most innocent expression on his face. What an actor. His golden yellow eyes pierce yours and you find it increasingly difficult to hold his steely gaze. Curse this charming man.
“Okay, fine!” You eventually blurt out, turning redder by the second. “They didn’t have to stare at you like that, it was excessive! And what’s there to look at anyway—” You start to explain yourself, but Hisoka stops you mid-sentence with his lips. He’s kissing you. It takes you a second to register what’s happening but the adrenaline keeps you going and you can’t breathe and yet you never want this to end. His hand is cupping the back of your neck, and your arms are braced against his chest, arching your back to meet his lips. He bears down on you, hungrily sucking on your lips as if he can’t get enough of you.
When Hisoka finally releases you with a satisfied smack of his lips, your mind is reeling, and your knees are wobbly. (Luckily, he still has a firm grip on your waist.)
“What the hell was that for?” You hiss, embarrassed and flushed, glancing around to see if anyone has noticed.
“I had to let them know that I’m unavailable.”
With a startle, you look up at the magician, holding you so tenderly in his arms. Hisoka isn’t looking at you anymore, he’s winking at someone behind you. You turn to follow his gaze. The gaggle of young yoga-goers have yet to pick their jaws off the ground. If it’s even possible, you’re sure you’ve turned a deeper shade of red; they had seen everything. As quickly as they had come, the women hurried out of the gym, whispering incredulously to one another in hushed tones.
You look back down, and slowly, wrap your arms around Hisoka’s toned torso. God, he’s so fit. Very carefully, you rest your head on his ample chest, and heave a sigh. How does he still manage to smell good? You probably smell like rotten cheese and onions.
“Finally admitting to missing me?” You feel the vibrations through his chest where your head is resting.
“Shut up.” You grumble into his shirt. He rests his cheek on top of your head and sighs, stroking your back in a comforting motion. You relax into his touch. He feels like home. He always does.
“I’ve missed you too, darling.”