Work Text:
The barbell flexes ever-so-slightly under the weight of several metal plates. When Zarya hoists it into the air for, what, the tenth time? The plates clack against one another, the gym an empty echo chamber.
The muscles in Zarya's back and arms flex. Over and over again. They're slick with sweat that dribbles between curves and jagged edges.
Mei's barbell looked nothing like that. It had two metal plates in total to even things out. And bruise Mei's ego.
Now she sits, eyes trained on the ripple of skin, the glisten of exertion. When her lips parted, she doesn't know, but now she swears she's salivating.
"Zarya?"
With a maddening groan, Zarya lowers the bar to the floor. Her arms and waistline tremble with the effort. A few inches from the mat, her grip loosens; the bar lands with a thud and exaggerated clatter.
"Yes, little rabbit?"
For as strong as Zarya is, as formidable, she isn't the most perceptive. Mei is reminded of this often. Right now, it's because she's not looking at Zarya's face, but at Zarya's sculpted shoulders.
Much like a rabbit, she scampers to Zarya's side.
"Are you okay?" She offers. Because if she doesn't force herself to do so, she'll feel awful. "That was a lot."
Zarya chuckles at her. Within the constraints of her chest, her heart bounces around. "Just fine. More than fine."
Mei is watching a bead of sweat trail down Zarya's arm. Past the bend of Zarya's elbow. Down her forearm, peppered with old scars.
She swipes it off with a finger, then stuffs that finger in her mouth.
Zarya blinks at her.