fandomhighdorms | Gym, Late late late Friday Night

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Gym, Late late late Friday Night

Anders liked physical activity. It was familiar, habitual, even, and once he got into the flow of what he was doing it was very easy for him to just shut his brain down and act without thinking.

Sometimes not thinking was good. Sometimes he was all about the not thinking.

Which would be why he was working the weight apparatus like a crazy person, and had been for at least the past hour. He'd run out of steam fairly soon, at this rate, but he wasn't stopping until then.

[OOC: Open, if you're up at this hour. Anders is here for . . . an awkward and probably ill-advised encounter, but he's around.]

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After returning from San Francisco, Bel was full of angst and tension. He didn't want to wake up Phoebe and explain things to her (especially if Piper was calling her this very minute), so instead he went to the gym. He didn't even notice Anders at first as he headed to the punching bag and started to abuse it, working up a furious sweat.

Anders didn't notice right away either, concentrating as hard as he was on getting those last ten reps done.

Once he'd finished, locked the weights back into place and was lying there trying to catch his breath, though, it was impossible not to hear the sound of the blows Bel was raining on the punching bag.

"Okay," he said, poking his head around to get a look at the punching bag, "who the frak is so pissed off they -- oh."

Bel stopped, finally noticing Anders. "Uh, hey," he said. "Sorry, didn't realize you were here."

"Could say the same for you." Anders paused to wipe the sweat out of his eyes. It was more a stalling gesture than anything, really; now that he didn't have a frenzy of activity going on last night's conversation with Parker sprang to mind again. "Pissed off, or just got that much energy to burn?"

"Energy to burn," Bel said, not wanting to get into the real reasons behind it. He looked around as if expecting Parker to leap out of the walls and try to vanquish him for talking to Anders. While hot. And sweaty. And shirtless.

None of these details had exactly escaped Anders's notice. Particularly as, at this hour, he was in the same state.

He was, likewise, casting glances around the gym for the same paranoid reason.

"So you decided to take it out by kicking the punching bag's ass," Anders observed as more sweat dripped from his hair.

Not that he put a slightly irritated emphasis on the words 'punching bag' or anything.

"Look, Parker told me to stay away from yours," Bel said. "And of all the freaky things in Fandom, she scares me the most." He picked up his gym bag. "So, uh, I'm gonna go take a shower, and I guess I'll see you later." He started to head to the ~~conveniently modded~~ gym locker room.

"She told you that, huh?" Anders, as it happened, had started to head that way at about the same time. "If you want to do as she tells you, find your own damn shower. I was going that way."

"Wait your turn," Bel snapped. He threw his bag into a locker, yanked off his clothes, and stepped into the shower room.

Okay, so maybe that wasn't the best idea.

"Like frakking hell!" snapped Anders, kicking off his sweats and storming in after Bel.

Definitely not the best idea, that.

Bel could practically feel Parker headdesking about now.

He resisted the urge for a few minutes, then finally glanced sideways at Anders and smirked. "Like what you see?" he said.

Somewhere, Anders was sure, Parker was probably throwing a shoe or something.

Not that he was quite up to actually forming words at this particular moment.

Yeah, that faucet so wasn't going to be letting out any hot water tonight.

Bel leaned into the wall, tilting his head back and letting the steaming water run down his body. Okay, so maybe he was putting on a little bit of a show....

Anders shut his eyes and stuck his head under the water to rinse out all the sweat. "Gods, I kind of frakking hate you right now," he muttered.

Failing the whole while to suppress a slight grin.

"You're the one who followed me into the shower," Bel pointed out.

He picked up a bar of soap off the holder on the wall; it slipped out of his hands and to the floot. "Mind picking that up for me?" he asked Anders with a smirk.

""You could've shimmered back to your own room or something," Anders grumbled.

He stared at the bar of soap on the floor. "Oh, hell no. I'm not falling for that -- no."

And yet, somehow, he was reaching toward the bar of soap.

Dammit.

Bel tilted his head, perhaps marveling over just how easily Anders fell for it, or perhaps merely enjoying the view. "Thanks," he said, grinning as he held out his hand for the soap.

"Bastard." Anders smacked the bar of soap into Bel's hand with a little too much force, and glowered at him as he turned back to his own shower.

Kind of a showy turn, though.

Bel lathered up his hands and began to run them over his body, soaping his chest up.

He wasn't trying to be a tease about it, not at all.

Neither was Anders trying to be a tease about turning around to lean down and soap his legs. Really.

Bel might've needed to turn that water cold after that. Instead, he rinsed off, turned off the water, and grabbed a towel.

He paused at the door. "Coming?" he said.

Anders finished his own shower and took his time toweling down, just because it was fun to make Bel wait.

When he was done, he slung the towel around his neck and followed Bel to the door. "After you."

"As it should be," Bel murmured, heading back into the main locker area and fetching his clothes. He didn't exactly rush to get dressed, though. He took his time.

Parker was so going to kill him.

Parker wasn't going to hear a word of this, if Anders had anything to do with it.

"You're not supposed to be talking to me, apparently," he noted absently, digging through his gym bag. Where the hell were his clean boxers?

"Yeah," Bel said, pulling on his pants -- sans underwear, of course. "Something about...crossed wires?"

Anders laughed shortly and sat down on the bench next to his bag, still rummaging around for his underwear. "No crossed wires. Lines, maybe, but I don't really care."

"Good to know," Bel said, slipping a shirt over his head. "I told Parker you were a big boy and knew how to take care of yourself."

Anders gave the boxers up for lost and just pulled on a clean pair of sweats, not bothering with a shirt. "She'd probably kill us both for this, even then."

But boy, had it ever been frakking worth it.

"She's not your keeper," Bel said, lips curling into a smirk. "That's apparently my job."

Before Anders could react to that, he gave him a little wave and shimmered out of the gym.

Anders kind of stared at the empty spot where Bel had been for a minute or two.

"Oh, that's just frakking mean," he said to no one in particular before shouldering his bag and heading out.

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Gym, Late late late Friday Night

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