That Sunday, the summer heat baked the pavement outside, driving the "NJRY" crew into the air-conditioned refuge of Aftertaste Café. Nico, Jamie, Romy, and Yani, a formation that had survived years, sat around their usual cozy table. The topic of the day was, inevitably, the implosion of Jamie’s love life.

"And I told him, if you need space, get a damn rocket," Jamie said pointing his fork aggressively.

Across the table, Romy took a sip of their iced drink. They looked effortless, as always, in denim overalls over a crop top, dreadlocks pulled to one side to reveal a shaved undercut.

"So what's the plan now?" Romy asked.

"Besides burning all his hoodies?" Yani added with a slight chuckle. He was sitting next to Romy, tall and a bit slouching, his dark hair pulled back into a messy bun that matched his oversized 90s anime tee.

"Survive on Nico's empty fridge and pity," Jamie said, eyeing the toast on Nico’s plate. "I need to find a place. But first, I need a job that pays me more and doesn't crush my soul."

"Speaking of soul-crushing," Romy interjected, turning to Nico. "Jamie said you joined a cult?"

"It's a cat shelter," Nico corrected, taking a sip of coffee. "And I've only just started volunteering."

"Jamie says there's a guy," Yani added, with a suspicious tone.

Nico rolled his eyes, though he focused very intently on buttering his toast. "There is a person who also volunteers there. He is male. That is the extent of the drama."

"Nico said he's huge," Jamie stage-whispered to the table. "Ginger beard, amber eyes. And he came home yearning and smelling like catnip."

"I was not yearning," Nico said, fighting a traitorous twitch of his lips. "I was tired. And he's... nice. He has a calming voice."

"A calming voice, sure..." Yani said, raising an eyebrow.

Nico stared very hard at his coffee under their collective scrutiny. Romy noticed him flushing and cleared their throat, mercifully steering the conversation.

"Anyway," Romy said, turning to Jamie. "There's an opening at the nonprofit where I work. It's for an events coordinator."

"Me?" Jamie scoffed, though he stopped chewing. "I'm a disaster."

"He’d have to stop posting thirst traps during work hours or the entire organization's productivity would collapse," Yani commented, before taking a long, loud slurp from his straw.

But Jamie turned his full attention to Romy. The drama momentarily forgotten, replaced by a flicker of genuine interest. "Events, you say?"

"Just think about it," Romy said.

Nico caught Romy’s eye and gave a small nod. Romy winked back.

***

In the afternoon, the apartment was still clearly occupied territory. Jamie was sprawled on the sofa: a different position, same existential crisis. He was scrolling through his phone like he wanted to dig a canyon through the glass with his thumb.

The brunch interrogation had left Nico jittery. Sweating it out seemed like a good way to regain a little control while his friends were busy planning his romantic future. He walked into the living room, dressed in his workout clothes.

"Whoa," Jamie said, barely looking up. "Where are you going looking all... functional?"

"The gym," Nico said, sitting on the bench to tie his sneakers.

Jamie finally lowered the phone. He squinted at Nico, scanning his gym bag and the actual intent to leave the house. "The gym? On a Sunday? Are you trying to impress the big cat man?"

Nico's words caught in his throat. "Ehm... It's only the gym, Jamie."

"Right. Only the gym. Gotta get those biceps ready for... lifting litter bags?" Jamie seemed entirely too pleased with himself, a wicked glint in his eyes.

"See you later," Nico said, standing up and walking out before Jamie could elaborate on his theories.

The walk to the gym was short, but enough for Nico to start sweating before he even started his workout. This gym was the only decent one in the neighborhood, which effectively made it the unofficial town square for the local gay population. Avoiding eye contact with exes was typically part of the workout, but luckily on a Sunday it was mostly empty.

Nico found a spot near the free weights. He picked up a pair of dumbbells, settling into a familiar rhythm. Up, down. Up, down. The movement pulled his shirt tight against his chest, outlining the results of years of disciplined, quiet effort. He wasn't the biggest guy in the room, but he had a lean strength that usually drew a few glances. Don’t think about Ben, he told himself. Focus on the form.

He took a break to drink some water, his eyes wandering around the room. The mirrors lining the walls made it impossible not to people-watch.

Across the room, a guy was dominating a barbell with enough weight to require a building permit. He had electric blue dyed hair and was wearing a tank top that was more of a suggestion than a garment. And he was tall too. Taller than Nico, though not as towering as Ben.

Stop thinking about Ben! Nico repeated to himself. He’s not here, and you’ve only met him once.

The blue-haired guy made the gym's sterile fluorescent bulbs look like a personal spotlight, and Nico stared for a second too long. In the mirror, the guy caught Nico's gaze. His impressive body and sharp, symmetrical features likely came with thousands of followers on social media and an ego to match.

Nico’s heart jumped, but he didn't look away immediately. He knew this dance. The gym could be a hunting ground as much as a training facility, and he had been a participant enough times to recognize the opening move.

The guy stared back at Nico in the reflection. A slow, deliberate smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth, eyes dropping to check Nico out before snapping back up. Nico's pulse spiked, but he didn't retreat. Instead, he took a slow sip of his water, holding the eye contact for a beat longer than necessary before looking away.

Okay. It's been a while but... Game on.

The weight of the stare lingered on him even as he picked up the dumbbells again. Across the room, the blue-haired adonis turned back to his barbell, though the smirk hadn't entirely left his face. They continued their workouts in separate orbits, pulling and lifting in silence, hyper-aware of every movement the other made.

Nico’s workout had officially stopped being about fitness ten minutes ago. Now, it was just a test of nerves. He finished his set and racked the weights, his arms burning in a way that felt good, or maybe he was delirious from the adrenaline.

After wiping the sweat from his forehead, he headed for the locker rooms. He didn't look back but could practically feel the guy's gaze fixed on him. He pushed the door open, stepping into the hot, humid air of the changing area.

The door swung shut behind him, muffling the clatter of weights and the distant shouts from the gym. He found his locker and started undressing for the shower.

And that’s when he heard the heavy door opening again. Footsteps slapped against the tile, slow and deliberate, right behind him.