Obligatory gym AU, because I've fallen back into the train of writing Six and Kat and we're all here for it.
Notes: Lore is based off my other fic, Beneath the Helmet. Meaning:
Six's official name is Sebastian. He has a brother named Gray.
Those are wash-board abs and I know it. Is the thought that rings through his head the same time a fist makes solid contact with his face. His head's hitting the floor, or more accurately, the gym floor in the next instant, but he'd call it worth it to see the girl that walked by the ring.
Except when he gets up he can feel the blood in his nose, dripping onto his tanktop, and he knows it's not going to stop bleeding for at least five minutes.
"Seb, you alright?" There's a hand in his face but he's peering past it, finding the girl who looked like she could knock his block off better than his brother's right hook ever could. He distractedly takes it anyway, letting his brother haul him to his feet, even as his eyes are searching, searching.
"You loose focus?" Gray's hands wrap around his face, tilting his head back so all Sebastian can see is the storm gray irises as his brother is shoving his head up into the light before shading them with his hand.
"I'm fine." He snaps, taking a step back and waving him away. "Missed your tells." But he's distracted and he knows it. His heart is pumping wildly, skin feeling too tight all of a sudden and his body too hot. "Got distracted."
"You want another round?" Gray asks, bare toes curling into the padded floor before he's setting up again, unwrapping and rewrapping his knuckles as he walks to the other side of the circle.
Sebastion snorts, wiping his nose clean and shaking his head. "Nah. Gotta stop this first." He wrinkles his nose, tilting his head back to stare at the ceiling. "I'll be back in a minute."
Then he is stumbling out of the ring, navigating with the bottom view out of his eyes to the men's bathroom more out of memory then sight.
Which is probably why when a hand grabs his, pulling him in what he isn't quite sure but can't quite deny is the right direction, he goes with it. Even if the owner of said hand snorts with either disgust or amusement, and the hand feels a bit too cold and hard to be bare skin.
"You're a dumbass."
Female. Voice singing with sass and something between humor and mirth.
"Got distracted." He managed to repeat, pinching his nose closed with his free hand so he can look at who's leading him.
Her back is to him, steering him to the male lockers, giving him a good view of toned and muscles shoulders displayed in a dark purple sports bra and leggings, but it's her hand that give him pause. Carbon fiber casing with hints of heavy-duty titanium and steel frames, there's a pair of wires peeking out of one of the seams. Military grade to say the least, but not military because that crap is made by the lowest bidder and he knows it. He's staring, knowing it's rude when she stops, slinging him forward. He stumbles a step, glancing back at her, unable to stop his eyes from flicking from her arm to her face.
She's giving him nothing except a bland look, crossing her arms as his eyes try their damnedest to soak in every detail of a goddess he's only discovered today. "Come on," she snaps, expression morphing. She must have noticed him looking at her arm, because her expression is borderline pissed leaning closer to straight up murder. "Say something and I'll break your nose."
He's pretty sure the Greeks got it wrong when describing Athena, because he's found her, and she has eyes that are blue and about as dark and deep as the Marianna's trench.
"Do you like coffee?" Is the best line that comes to his mind, because he's pretty sure telling her he wants her to punch him in the face isn't a normal pick-up line.
She blinks, and he can see her mind whirling, and it's vocalized as she taps her false fingers on her real arm, the servos whining softly in the silence between him.
"You're bleeding out if you think that line's going to get a date out of me." And she leaves, marching off leaving him clutching his nose and staring at her as she goes back to her workout. She glances back, and he realizes belatedly that he hasn't moved, hasn't had the mind to until she rolls her eyes and heads up the stairs to the cardio level of the gym.
His brother runs up shortly, one eyebrow cocked, both their gym bags in hand.
"Did you just ask out Catherine Harmony?"
Catherine Harmony.
Catherine Harmony.
Featherweight champion four years ago where she achieved the fastest recorded female knockout in 3.14 seconds in the ring. Deployed later overseas where she lost her arm in an IED accident where she was the only survivor. Rehab and recovery constituted a year, and based on her record, she must have been discharged a year or two ago, well before she got that hot piece of steel on her arm to match the corded muscles on the other.
Was his intel background showing?
Maybe.
It wasn't that he's had a crush on her since the first time he'd seen her fight and been utterly entranced by her split lip and the near feral look in her eyes as she mauled her opponent.
"She's a knockout."
His brother groaned and rolled his eyes.