Come Spot Me
Title: Come Spot Me
Fandom: Eyeshield 21
Characters: Hiruma/Mamori
Genre: Romantic Comedy
Rating: PG-13 for Hiruma's potty mouth of course
Disclaimer: I don't own Eyeshield 21...yet!
A/N: I was going to go for something closer to pron, but I chickened out and ended up with a little fluff. Maybe I'll become brave again and attempt something a little more racy.
Mamori didn’t know what had possessed her to do such a thing, as she continued to bench press the 40 pound weight in the empty room. She’d gotten to school before anyone else, and thought she’d take advantage of the relative privacy in the workout room to get some reps in. Lifting 20 pounds had become fairly easy for her, so she decided to push herself. She added 10 pounds to each side of the bar, and began to do her reps.
At first the strain felt good. She felt a sense of accomplishment as she continued to press the weight up and down. But then she felt herself getting tired a lot quicker than she normally did when it was just 20 pounds. When she tried to lift the weight back on the rack, her arms suddenly went numb. With her eyes closed tightly, she strained with all she had left, trying desperately to lift the weight back on to the rack. She silently prayed she could gather just enough strength not to let the bar fall to her chest.
Then suddenly, out of nowhere, the tension eased, and the weight lifted back onto the rack. Mamori opened her eyes to find Hiruma frowning down on her.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” His voice had just an edge of concern that made Mamori blink a couple of times to make sure her eyes weren’t playing tricks on her, and that it was really Hiruma standing over her.
“When did you get here?” she said in a breathy tone as she sat up on the bench. She silently admonished herself for the sheepish way her question had come out of her mouth, but it couldn’t be helped. Her arms were burning and her lungs were tight from the strain.
“Just now, and it’s a good fucking thing too. Why the fuck were you trying to bench press 40 pounds by yourself without a spotter? Never lift without a spotter.” The words almost came out menacingly as he leaned in closer to her.
She got up quickly from the bench to put some distance between them. “Well, I just thought, since everyone else was progressing, why couldn’t I progress too?” A sense of justification rose up within her as she took up a stance while rubbing her sore upper arms, but he already had his back towards her, putting more weight on the bar.
She watched him as he lay down on the bench and began to do his reps. “I know you think of me as just the manager of the team, not anyone who’s capable of contributing anything physical,” she began.
“Well you’re no fucking use to me if you strangle yourself with a fucking bar bell,” he smirked as Mamori gasped guessing what he took her words to mean.
“That’s not what I was trying…”
“If you really want to take working out seriously, you should start with some cardio. The way you’ve been knocking back cream puffs lately, your ass is sure to expand a couple sizes.”
“You’re really horrible, you know!” She turned on her heel and began to stalk out of the room.
“Hey, fucking manager!”
“What!” she turned angrily back around to face him, only to see him sitting up on the bench with a slight triumphant smirk on his face that made her blood boil.
“Come spot me. Then afterwards, I’ll show you some exercises you can do that will let you eat all the fucking creampuffs you want and still keep that shape of yours.”
She glanced over at herself in the mirrored wall. Eating all the creampuffs she wanted and still keeping her shape? It might not be such a bad idea to see what he had in mind.
Fandom: Eyeshield 21
Characters: Hiruma/Mamori
Genre: Romantic Comedy
Rating: PG-13 for Hiruma's potty mouth of course
Disclaimer: I don't own Eyeshield 21...yet!
A/N: I was going to go for something closer to pron, but I chickened out and ended up with a little fluff. Maybe I'll become brave again and attempt something a little more racy.
Mamori didn’t know what had possessed her to do such a thing, as she continued to bench press the 40 pound weight in the empty room. She’d gotten to school before anyone else, and thought she’d take advantage of the relative privacy in the workout room to get some reps in. Lifting 20 pounds had become fairly easy for her, so she decided to push herself. She added 10 pounds to each side of the bar, and began to do her reps.
At first the strain felt good. She felt a sense of accomplishment as she continued to press the weight up and down. But then she felt herself getting tired a lot quicker than she normally did when it was just 20 pounds. When she tried to lift the weight back on the rack, her arms suddenly went numb. With her eyes closed tightly, she strained with all she had left, trying desperately to lift the weight back on to the rack. She silently prayed she could gather just enough strength not to let the bar fall to her chest.
Then suddenly, out of nowhere, the tension eased, and the weight lifted back onto the rack. Mamori opened her eyes to find Hiruma frowning down on her.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” His voice had just an edge of concern that made Mamori blink a couple of times to make sure her eyes weren’t playing tricks on her, and that it was really Hiruma standing over her.
“When did you get here?” she said in a breathy tone as she sat up on the bench. She silently admonished herself for the sheepish way her question had come out of her mouth, but it couldn’t be helped. Her arms were burning and her lungs were tight from the strain.
“Just now, and it’s a good fucking thing too. Why the fuck were you trying to bench press 40 pounds by yourself without a spotter? Never lift without a spotter.” The words almost came out menacingly as he leaned in closer to her.
She got up quickly from the bench to put some distance between them. “Well, I just thought, since everyone else was progressing, why couldn’t I progress too?” A sense of justification rose up within her as she took up a stance while rubbing her sore upper arms, but he already had his back towards her, putting more weight on the bar.
She watched him as he lay down on the bench and began to do his reps. “I know you think of me as just the manager of the team, not anyone who’s capable of contributing anything physical,” she began.
“Well you’re no fucking use to me if you strangle yourself with a fucking bar bell,” he smirked as Mamori gasped guessing what he took her words to mean.
“That’s not what I was trying…”
“If you really want to take working out seriously, you should start with some cardio. The way you’ve been knocking back cream puffs lately, your ass is sure to expand a couple sizes.”
“You’re really horrible, you know!” She turned on her heel and began to stalk out of the room.
“Hey, fucking manager!”
“What!” she turned angrily back around to face him, only to see him sitting up on the bench with a slight triumphant smirk on his face that made her blood boil.
“Come spot me. Then afterwards, I’ll show you some exercises you can do that will let you eat all the fucking creampuffs you want and still keep that shape of yours.”
She glanced over at herself in the mirrored wall. Eating all the creampuffs she wanted and still keeping her shape? It might not be such a bad idea to see what he had in mind.