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[color=808080][color=995749][b]#995749[/b][/color] [color=2e2c2c].....[/color]|[color=2e2c2c].....[/color] [b]brutus[/b] [color=2e2c2c]....[/color]|[color=2e2c2c].....[/color] [url=https://imgur.com/TUe2ovI][color=808080][b]outfit[/b][/color][/url] [color=2e2c2c]...............[/color] [color=217c85][b]#217c85[/b][/color] [color=2e2c2c].....[/color]|[color=2e2c2c].....[/color] [b]jinx[/b] [color=2e2c2c]....[/color]|[color=2e2c2c].....[/color] [url=https://imgur.com/ywwIH2B][color=808080][b]outfit[/b][/color][/url] [color=2e2c2c]...............[/color] [color=00aeef][b]#00aeef[/b][/color] [color=2e2c2c]....[/color]|[color=2e2c2c].....[/color] [url=https://imgur.com/ti7DhUt][color=808080][b]outfit[/b][/color][/url] [color=2e2c2c]...............[/color] [b]descendant tower[/b][/color]
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[indent][indent][indent][indent][justify][color=808080]Ronnie rose with the sun, bathed in a warm amber glow mixed with the deep red ambient lights that covered Luke’s penthouse. The silk sheet was draped across their naked bodies rather than covering them, limbs poking out at different angles. She didn’t need the warmth of a blanket when his body was like her own personal furnace, radiating warmth wherever her skin touched his. Her cheek rested against his chest, forsaking a pillow for the comfort of his flesh. 

She stirred slowly with a quiet groan, only remembering the events of her night and day before as the spectacle of Luke naked beneath her came into view. A groan shifted to a pleased hum and soft exhale as she looked him over. She could have let him sleep, perhaps should have, but her impulsive thoughts won out. 

Ronnie slipped a leg along his skin, shifting her weight until she straddled his waist with nothing separating them aside from sheer will and determination. She ran her hands along his bare chest in patient anticipation as she waited for him to wake. It was only when his gaze met hers that her fingers enveloped his neck and the tips of her thumbs traced the length of his throat, dominating in their tenderness. [color=217c85]"I like my mornings filled with cardio."[/color] She spoke slowly, temptingly, emphasizing her words with a teasing rock of her hips and a devious grin. [color=217c85]"Sex and then watching you lift weights sounds like a [i]fantastic[/i] start to a day."[/color] She released her hold, slowly dragging her nails down his chest as she sat back upright so all of her weight rested right where she wanted.

Sleep had taken him somewhere colder than it had any right to be. 

Luke stood again in the shadow of a man shaped like a monument, broad shoulders wrapped in blue and red, shield slung like a promise across his back. The sky was a ruthless, perfect blue, the kind painted into recruitment posters and history books. Heroes gathered in a semicircle before them, faces lifted with reverence, hunger, devotion. His father’s voice carried like iron wrapped in velvet, each word landing with the weight of destiny.

Luke tried to step closer. The sun burned his eyes. The ground beneath his feet felt like ice. He looked down at his hands, too small, too pale, and watched them curl into fists, nails biting crescent moons into his palms. Something lived in his chest that was not pride. Not love. Not hatred alone.

It was want.

To be seen. To be chosen. To be [i]him.[/i] The burning spread, sharp and endless, hollowing him out from the inside—

—and then the dream shattered.

Awareness crashed back into him all at once, dragged violently into his body by warmth and weight and the unfamiliar intimacy of breath against his throat. His eyes flew open, pulse already coiled tight in his veins, every instinct reaching for violence before reason caught up.

Ronnie. Above him. Gold-lit. Real. The tension bled out of him in a slow exhale as the world rearranged itself into something softer, more dangerous in its own way. The red ambient lights of the penthouse brushed her skin like spilled wine, turning her into something mythic and immediate and entirely his problem. His heartbeat steadied. The cold retreated. A crooked, lazy smile tugged itself into place like a well-worn mask he never forgot to put on.

[color=995749]"You have a beautiful sense of priorities,"[/color] Luke murmured, voice still rough with sleep, eyes glinting with lazy amusement as they traced her face, and then lower. [color=995749]"Cardio, discipline, sinful motivation… really, you’re looking out for my long-term health."[/color]

His hands slid to her hips with practiced ease, thumbs pressing lightly as if he were anchoring himself to the moment, to her warmth, to something solid enough to drown out the echo of a god-shaped shadow still lingering in his skull. [color=995749]"Perfect way to start any day,"[/color] he added softly.

And then, in a single smooth motion that spoke of confidence learned through violence and privilege alike, Luke shifted his weight and rolled them, guiding her down into the sheets as though it were nothing more than a lazy stretch, nothing more than instinct. The silk whispered around them. He hovered there for half a heartbeat, studying her like a beautiful equation he already knew how to solve, blue eyes bright with charm and something sharper buried far beneath it.

[color=995749]"Guess that means I should stop sleeping in,"[/color] he said lightly, a grin curling slow and deliberate at the corner of his mouth. He leaned closer, lips just barely brushing her own, hands firm on her hips. [color=995749]"Roll over."[/color] There was an edge to his tone, and he smirked against her lips. 

Ronnie moved with him, not fighting as he shifted on top of her and pressed her down into the bed. Her thighs bracketed his hips, letting him move in closer as she trailed her hands along the contours of his muscles. She looked up at him with a ravenous anticipation. The tower was complicated with all of its messy entanglements, with Zaria, Jules, Myla… [i]Theo.[/i] But Luke was refreshingly simple. There were layers removed between them unlike the others. Their desires aligned in the same way their bodies fit together like two puzzle pieces. While everything else was complicated around them, she could settle into this simplicity. Bodies and flesh and his weight bearing down into her. 

While his breath ghosted along her skin like a tantalizing promise, dark and teasing, she seized his lips, reveling in his touch and taste before forfeiting control. Ronnie was a woman who thrived in dominance, taking what she wanted, when she wanted it. But there was a layer of unspoken satisfaction at being able to release the reins and lose herself to pleasure. At Luke’s command her smile grew devious and hungry. She flicked the tip of her nose against his before following his instruction with a teasing fluidity in her movements. Ronnie turned over beneath him, letting every bit of her body brush against his. Her feet shifted along the bed and against his legs. Her hands slid along the silk in front of her, face down in the sheets as she arched her back and pressed her hips back into him. 


There was a distant thought that came with her eager obedience. He wasn’t sure if she’d be making this a daily routine with him, but starting each day like that was the best idea anyone had come up with in the last twenty-four hours in this godforsaken tower. Though, that may have been a matter of opinion. 


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[color=217c85]"[i]Fuck.[/i]"[/color] The word slipped out with a deep breath, filling the space between pants where moans had echoed off the walls moments earlier. Sweat glistened along heaving chests as they laid on top of the warm silk sheets, their heads near the foot of the bed, legs still entangled. Ronnie brushed damp hair out of her face with a breathy laugh while staring up at the ceiling bathed in crimson lights. 

Luke’s breath was still uneven when her voice cut through the red-soaked quiet, raw and breathless and satisfied. A low chuckle slipped from his chest, lazy and unguarded, the sound vibrating where their shoulders brushed. [color=995749]"Yeah,"[/color] he murmured, lips tugging into that familiar crooked line, all heat and arrogance and soft ruin at the edges. [color=995749]"We just did."[/color]

Ronnie rolled her eyes with a breathy laugh that was lost beneath heavy pants and the heaving of her chest. Her own smile rested in a fragile balance of peace, without a mask or feigned confidence. She wasn’t in love with Luke by any means. She doubted either one of them were capable of love, not anymore. But they had this… unspoken understanding, a symbiosis. Unlike the game of cat and mouse her and Aria were playing, or ticking time bomb that was Myla and Theo, this was easy. Sex and companionship without strings or expectations. 

He turned his head slightly to look at her, eyes bright in the dim glow, pupils still wide, the world narrowed to silk sheets and tangled limbs and the slow, grounding rhythm of breath returning to something steady. Sweat traced the sharp lines of his collarbones, gathered in the hollows of muscle like rain caught in marble grooves. For a moment, he simply stayed there, warm, present, real, letting the last echoes of pleasure settle into his bones.

Then motion returned to him like instinct. Luke pushed himself upright, muscles in his chest and stomach pulling tight beneath the dark red light, each movement unhurried and deliberate, a quiet performance he never fully stopped giving. Shadows carved him into something sculpted and dangerous, sweat catching along his skin like liquid starlight. He reached out as he passed her, fingers brief and unapologetic, delivering a playful swat to her ass.

[color=995749]"I’ll start the shower,"[/color] he said lightly, already stepping away, confidence woven into every careless syllable. [color=995749]"If you’re lucky, I’ll manage to behave."[/color] He glanced back over his shoulder, grin cutting sharp and wicked. [color=995749]"…or unlucky. Depends how you like your mornings."[/color]

She seized her bottom lip between her teeth at the sting that radiated along her bottom, her smirk laced with a devious hunger and temptation that always lingered beneath the surface. Ronnie rolled over beneath the silk, turning onto her side and propping her head up so she could watch him go, enjoying the subtle bounce of each cheek as he stepped. Her eyes flicked up to his as he looked over his shoulder toward her like a silent challenge. 

Then he turned fully toward the bathroom. The scars along his back caught the light as he walked, rows of pale, precise lines etched into bronze skin, quiet and orderly and monstrous in their symmetry. They moved with him, stretching and narrowing over muscle, a secret language written into flesh. No one ever read it correctly. No one ever asked him to translate.

The bathroom lights flared to life. Luke reached in, turned the handle, listened to the pipes groan awake. Steam began to bloom slowly, ghost-pale against glass. He grabbed two towels from the rack, thick and white and soft, and dropped them onto the counter without ceremony.

Then he stepped beneath the spray before it had time to warm. Cold water struck his shoulders like a confession. He braced one hand against the tile, head bowing as the shock tore the last fragile threads of sleep from his thoughts. The dream clung to him anyway, sunlight, a shield, a back too broad to ever step out from behind. He shut his eyes and let the water batter it away, rinsing the gold and the blue and the impossible shadow of a man he would both murder and mourn. 

By the time the water finally warmed, the past had gone quiet again. Luke lifted his head. And the mask, as always, slid neatly back into place.

Ronnie took her time prying herself from the warmth of his bed, climbing out from beneath silk and the red glow that painted her skin like blood. The soft padding of her bare feet upon the tile was lost beneath the sound of rushing water that flooded out of the bathroom and echoed around his penthouse. She carried herself into the bright lights and steam, across cold tile and into the warm puddle of water that splashed around Luke’s feet. 

She took hold of his waist, filling the space between them until his back was warmed by the closeness of her body. Her lips ghosted along the apex of his shoulders, teasing against the upper edge of his scars. [color=217c85]"I’ve never been good at behaving."[/color] Her fingers, slick with water and the sweat that still clung to their skin, ran along the contours of his muscles and followed the deep V of his Adonis belt, lower and lower, [i]until[/i]...

[color=217c85]"The gym isn’t going anywhere,"[/color] she purred against his scars. Ronnie was an insatiable creature. Until Luke was through with her, she would drain him dry and make life in that dreadful tower a little more bearable… Starting with taking advantage of his naked body in the shower until he begged for release.

And in the end, Luke did beg, not that he honestly minded too much. There were perks, after all, to being on a [i]team.[/i]

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Eventually they got cleaned after a lengthy detour filled with heavy breaths, shaking legs, and the water in the shower having long gone cold. 

Ronnie grabbed one of the towels he had laid out and wrapped it around her body, tucking the corner beneath the hem so it stayed tight around her torso. A small trail of water followed her as she made her way out of the bathroom and started scouring his penthouse for her clothes. It wasn’t a breadcrumb trail but like a bomb went off, pieces strewn about everywhere from the kitchen, to the couch, to beside his bed. As she gathered it all up, the saltiness of sweat and other aromas still clung to the fabric. 

She sighed. [color=217c85]"Think I could borrow some clothes? I’ll let you tear them off me later."[/color] She looked back at him over her shoulder with a smile, partly illuminating her genuine question, but also tinged with her brazen lust that dripped off of every word and never laid dormant for long.


Luke leaned against the doorframe, still damp from the shower, watching her drift through his penthouse like a pretty little storm, bare feet on marble, towel clutched tight, damp hair leaving dark commas across his immaculate floors. The aftermath of them was everywhere. Fabric draped over chair backs, a sleeve caught on the corner of the kitchen island, something delicate hanging from the lamp like a white flag of surrender.

His mouth curved slowly, knowingly. For half a second, he considered saying no. Just to see the spark. The flash of teeth. The sharp, lovely fury she carried so well. It amused him more than it should have. Instead, he pushed off the frame and crossed the space between them, movements easy, unhurried. Water still traced lazy paths down his chest, catching in the shallow lines of old scars and muscle before disappearing into the fabric of the towel he’d secured around his waist. 

[color=995749]"You can take whatever you want,"[/color] he said, voice warm with humor, eyes flicking over her with open appreciation. [color=995749]"I’ve got sweats, dry-fit shirts… nothing exciting, but it’ll do."[/color] He nodded his head toward the door just beyond the bathroom, the one that led into his walk-in closet—dark wood, soft lights, quiet luxury. [color=995749]"Third rack on the left,"[/color] he added lightly.

As he turned back toward the bathroom himself, headed for the sink, already reaching for his toothbrush, he paused just long enough to glance back at her over his shoulder, grin sharpening into something crooked and boyish and dangerous all at once. [color=995749]"Grab me something too, yeah?"[/color] he said. [color=995749]"Surprise me. I trust your taste."[/color]


[color=217c85]"[i]Careful,[/i]"[/color] Ronnie all but sang as she quickly gave his retreating ass a small pinch, for no other reason than she wanted to. It was like cuteness aggression. She’d take a bite out of it if he’d let her… [i]figeratively[/i]... Kind of. He had a nice ass. Her bare feet quietly padded across the tiled floor toward the closet. [color=217c85]"If you give me too much free reign, I might never leave."[/color] She flashed his reflection in the mirror a devious smile before disappearing out of view. 

Considering they were going to work out, or more aptly [i]Luke[/i] was going to work out while she lounged seductively nearby… for moral support, Ronnie wasn’t going to put [i]too[/i] much consideration into the clothes she grabbed. Ok, that was a lie, partially. She very pointedly chose a shirt that was made of a light material and gray, so with sweat and exertion it would perfectly cling to Luke’s muscles. After all, she wanted a show, right? 

For herself it took a little more work, simply because she was smaller than him. But Ronnie was nothing if not ingenious. Basketball shorts with a drawstring pulled tight and a simple white tank top with the hem twisted into a knot would suffice just fine. With her hair still damp, darkening the light fabric with every drip, the shirt did not leave much to the imagination. But honestly, she’d work out naked if it wouldn’t be scoffed at by the tower’s resident uppities.

It was only a few minutes before she emerged with the fresh clothes neatly folded in one hand and her damp towel in the other. Ronnie set the clothes on the side of the bed before slipping back into the bathroom to hang up her towel. She might have been chaotic and messy while lost in lust, but she wasn’t a slob. She knew how to clean up after herself, especially when the space she had destroyed was not hers. While Luke finished getting ready she set to gathering up the remaining discarded clothing, folding hers into a neat pile and leaving it near the lift so she could remember to take it with her later, while his clothes she tossed into what she assumed was the proper basket. She wasn’t going to go far enough to make the bed—it’d likely be disheveled shortly after their return anyway.

Once her mess was addressed, Ronnie sat at the foot of the bed, pulling on her shoes and lacing them up. Then waited for Luke to finish whatever morning routines he had, happy to watch him like every step and move he made was a private show just for her. 

Luke’s breath caught in a laugh at her pinch, the sound low and surprised, as if she’d managed to slip beneath the layers he kept so carefully arranged. Amusement warmed his expression despite himself, blue eyes flicking toward her reflection with something almost fond in their sharpness. He shook his head once, lips tugging into that familiar crooked smirk, as though indulging her was the easiest thing in the world. There was something dangerously domestic about it, her bare feet on tile, her voice bright with mischief, the casual threat of staying. For a heartbeat, he let himself imagine what it would be like if anyone ever truly meant it.

It wasn’t possible for people like them, though. Better to not get too entangled, sex was sex, and they could joke all they wanted, but at the end of the day they were here for a reason that had nothing to do with creating relationships. 

He turned back to the sink, resuming the rituals that anchored him. Cold water, then the face wash, something expensive and faintly ridiculous that fizzed softly against his skin, bubbles clinging to his jaw as he worked it in with methodical care. He rinsed, patted dry, then smoothed a light oil across his cheeks and throat, the motion practiced, almost reverent, like polishing armor. Deodorant followed, quick and efficient, the sort of detail no one ever noticed until it was absent. His life was built from small disciplines like that, clean edges, controlled impressions, nothing left to chance.

Clothes came next, the gray shirt Ronnie had chosen sliding over his head, cool against still-warm skin. He glanced at himself in the mirror, taking in the way it clung just as she’d intended, the faintest curve of satisfaction crossing his face. A quick spray of cologne, wood and spice, and he left his hair as it was, damp and tousled, messy in a way that looked intentional rather than careless. He could fix it, of course. He simply didn’t need to. The disarray suited him in the same way charm did, another weapon softened into style.

By the time he was finished, barely fifteen minutes had passed, though it felt like an hour had folded itself neatly away. He stepped back into the bedroom, towel discarded, confidence intact, the penthouse once again belonging to him. Ronnie sat at the foot of the bed lacing her shoes, watching him like he was a spectacle, and Luke’s grin sharpened in response. He wiggled his eyebrows at her, playful and smug, as if the morning hadn’t already been thoroughly derailed. [color=995749]"Ready to go, sweet cheeks?"[/color] he asked, voice warm with teasing, eyes bright with that easy, dangerous charm.

Ronnie pushed off the bed and slowly made her way over to him with the same devious glint behind her eyes that never seemed to fade in his presence. [color=217c85]"We did actually make an effort to get dressed, so I [i]suppose[/i]—"[/color] she dragged out the last syllable dramatically with a playful roll of her eyes [color=217c85]"—we should be good. But only for a little bit."[/color] With that, she dipped two fingers beneath the elastic waistband of his shorts and gave it a teasing snap against his tight abdomen. Her grin grew, mischievous and challenging as she flashed him a wink and sauntered past him to go press the button to call the elevator.

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The doors to the lift opened to a long corridor of familiar white marble tiles, lined with one wall adorned with doors leading to the kitchen, laundry room, and locker rooms. The other side was floor to ceiling glass that separated them from the largest and most extensive gym Ronnie has ever seen. Every piece of work out equipment… like ever, was arranged around the room. There even seemed to be a split between regular equipment and then specialized machines that looked like they were specifically created for those outside the realm of normal, people like Luke and Magni, and anyone else with enough strength to lift a car. Then in the center of the room there was a large boxing ring that also had one of the robot things from the training rooms. To be honest, Ronnie wasn’t likely to do much beyond some simple leg presses or run on the treadmill, but she wasn’t displeased at the various ways Luke could get sweaty.

On the opposite side of the gym, a tall blonde figure was already in the midst of a workout. Magni sported only a set of compression shorts, the muscles in his back flexing as he did cable flies while turned away from the others. The handles were attached to thick metal fibers, which through a series of complicated pulleys, lifted several large tungsten blocks in front of him. His movements were slow and rhythmic, as he hummed an old Asgardian rowing chant deep in his chest. He didn't seem to notice Luke and Ronnie's arrival, just letting out the occasional grunt as his sweaty palms caused the blocks to come closer to the ground than he intended.

Luke took in the expanse of the gym with a slow sweep of his gaze, white marble and steel and glass gleaming beneath sterile overhead lights. It was excessive, theatrical, familiar, exactly the kind of space built for gods and the men who desperately wanted to stand beside them. He felt Ronnie’s presence at his side and glanced down at her with a faint, knowing smirk, already aware of the direction her attention would drift. The place practically hummed with testosterone and competition, with the quiet promise of sweat and spectacle. His pulse ticked upward, not from exertion, but from the stage being set.

Then he saw him.

Magni.

The old rhythm of school days and training halls flickered briefly at the edge of memory before Luke smoothed it away. He crossed the room without hesitation, strides long and relaxed, shoulders loose like he hadn’t once measured himself against that broad back in shadowed corridors years ago. The tungsten blocks rose and fell in slow defiance of gravity, cables straining with each deliberate pull. [color=995749]"Morning!"[/color] Luke called easily, voice bright enough to carry but warm enough not to challenge. [color=995749]"Hitting the gym early too? Didn’t think I’d see anyone else here so soon."[/color]

He veered toward the free weight rack as if the movement were incidental, fingers curling around the handle of an eighty-pound dumbbell. He lifted it with casual ease, testing the balance, holding it suspended for a breath before lowering it back into place with controlled precision. His eyes flicked toward Magni’s reflection in the glass wall, assessing without appearing to.

A beat passed.

Luke reached for a heavier weight.

The muscle in his forearm tightened as he lifted it cleanly from the rack, the motion smooth and unstrained, a faint grin ghosting across his mouth as though the act amused him. He rolled his shoulder once, feeling the familiar pull of strength beneath skin and scar tissue alike. Performance. Always performance. And yet beneath the easy smile and relaxed posture, something old and sharp stirred, the instinct to measure, to rival, to prove. Not loudly. Never loudly. But enough to remind him that even in rooms built for gods, he refused to stand in anyone’s shadow. 

Magni smiled, lowering the blocks carefully until they rested upon the ground again. He ran a hand through his thick locks, trying to get a few strands from obscuring his view. When he faced Luke, he banged with delight. [color=00aeef]"Ah, Rogerson. Good Morrow!"[/color] As always, his voice seemed to reverberate throughout the space. He wiped his hands on his breeches, his eyes scanning the room. He gave a passing glance over Ronnie, giving her an enthusiastic nod. [color=00aeef]"Good morrow to you, my lady."[/color]

Magni took in a deep breath, seeming to have strained just enough with the oddly labelled weights to force the god to reset his breathing. He lifted his arms out, stretching the muscles he had just worked. If he were any other being, he would appear to be showing off. In reality, Magni was simply taking the time to ensure he had properly stretched a muscle group that hadn't seen as much love in his time abroad. He was not afforded dedicated machines to work out specific muscle groups while surviving the fiery pits of Musphelheim, and the chance to tone areas he had neglected was one of the lesser perks Midgard offered. His grander reward for this excursion was most certainly slumbering upstairs. A small, unconscious smile crept up the corner of Magni's mouth at the thought of his bedfellow. He snapped to attention, realizing he had not properly responded to Luke. [color=00aeef]"We had no midnight revelries yesternight, which afforded us this morn an opportune moment to condition ourself appropriately. ‘Tis best we remain at our best for the trials and tribulations we may yet face,"[/color] he said jovially, offering a warm smile once again.

Ronnie did not hide the delighted smile that curled at the corner of her lips at the sight of the God’s sweat glistening back. Her gaze trailed the contours of his flexing muscles unapologetically with a small cock of her head. Luke was a specimen without a doubt, but Magni was a God. Both were blond, chiseled, and strong enough to toss her around in just the way she liked. It was difficult to compare, harder still to choose. Then like a spark growing into a wildfire, the thought ignited something feral that lived within her and rarely remained dormant for long.

[color=217c85]"Good morning,"[/color] Ronnie replied, her voice smoother than the silks she was lost beneath not an hour earlier. She hummed a low, appreciative sound as her eyes trailed from Magni’s shoulders, along the dip of his spine to the curve of his lower back. She didn’t stay behind Luke, but weaved between the men like a feline: elegant, intentional, and on the prowl. 

[color=217c85]"[i]Conditioned[/i] is one word for it,"[/color] she purred, reaching out to let the tips of her fingers brush the damp skin of Magni’s forearm as she passed. Ronnie settled into the space between each man’s equipment of choice, crossing her arms lazily over her chest as she leaned to rest one shoulder against the cool metal supports of whatever machine the God was currently working on. [color=217c85]"You’re practically vibrating,"[/color] she commented as her gaze casually followed a trickle of sweat that hugged the toned curve of his abdomen before slipping beneath the waistband of his shorts. [color=217c85]"If Imogen’s letting you slip away in the early hours of the morning to play with metal blocks, she clearly doesn’t realize what a…"[/color] She drew in a deep breath through her nose, pursing her lips as she pulled her attention from his [i]form[/i] to meet his gaze. [color=217c85]"[i]strenuous[/i] resource she’s wasting."[/color]

Ronnie glanced back over toward Luke with a wicked, conspiratorial glint in her eyes that spoke her intentions without saying a word. [color=217c85]"Don’t you think, Luke?"[/color] Her head lulled to the side with feigned nonchalance, lips curving into something seductively devious. [color=217c85]"It’s almost criminal, a [i]god[/i] using regular gym equipment. We really should show him how we handle high-intensity intervals."[/color]

Luke felt it before he allowed himself to show it, that small, inconvenient tightening in his chest when Ronnie’s voice turned honey-slick and dangerous. Magni had once been more than a rival silhouette in a room like this, he’d been laughter in training halls, bruised knuckles from sparring sessions, a shoulder at his side when the academy still felt like something worth believing in. And Imogen… Imogen had been fire of a different kind. For half a heartbeat, something almost protective flickered through him at the thought of dismantling whatever fragile thing they’d built upstairs the night before.

It passed.

It always did.

His smirk unfurled slowly as Ronnie looked back at him, conspiratorial and feral. Luke lifted the weight into a clean curl, bicep tightening beneath fabric, breath measured as he brought it up and lowered it again with precise control. [color=995749]"She’s insatiable,"[/color] he chuckled, voice warm and amused. He repeated the curl, the motion fluid, disciplined, muscle memory carved into him since boyhood. Working out had never been pleasure. It was obligation. It was maintenance. It was the unspoken rule of growing up in the shadow of a living monument; you either kept up, or you disappeared.

[color=995749]"Though she has some very good ideas, doesn’t she?"[/color] he added lightly.

His gaze slid across Magni’s chest, taking in the godly architecture of it without shame, a slow appraisal barely masked as idle curiosity. He threw in a wink for good measure, playful, harmless, a performance of equal-opportunity indulgence. Then his attention returned to the weight in his hand as he completed another curl, exhaling evenly through his nose.

There was something almost theatrical about the triangle they formed, god, weapon, wildfire. Luke’s lips curved faintly as he set the heavier dumbbell down and reached for another, this one heavier than the last, pushing himself into the rhythm of repetition. Every lift was controlled. Every breath was mastery. Whatever sparks Ronnie wanted to fan into flame, he would let them burn just hot enough. 

Magni raised an eyebrow at their seductive efforts, but remained blissfully unaware of their innuendo. Magni walked over to the dumbbells Luke was working on, plucking the heaviest one before crossing to a nearby bench. He placed a hand down for support, hunching down and lifting the weight up and down from the ground. [color=00aeef]"Lady Frost hath earned her rest. Her efforts yesterday caused her some distress, and ‘twould be improper of myself to wake her at such early light."[/color] He spoke Imogen's defense plainly, without the bravado most showed when protecting a partner. They did not know of her time with the machine the day before, nor did they see the pain she endured at its usage. He could not fault them for what they did not know.

Something did pique his interest, however. As he continued hoisting the weight, he turned his attention back to Ronnie. [color=00aeef]"If thou has recommendations for a more fitting exercise, I would welcome thy council."[/color] He knew Luke well enough from the days of the Academy to trust him. If she had a fitting workout for men like them, it would be foolish to pass up such an opportunity.

Ronnie’s hungry gaze was not masked or hidden, but brandished proudly like an offering anyone could take if they were willing enough. Her eyes traced the curve of Luke’s bicep as he flexed, watching the way the fabric of his sleeve contoured with each curl. Then as Magni moved to match, so did her attention, taking in the glisten of sweat that clung to the God’s skin and how his muscles were nearly larger than her head with every lift of the dumbbell. She truly was a kid in a toy shop. Give her a comfortable seat and a drink and she could have made herself right at home with the spectacle.

But why watch, when she could touch? Luke was built far better than any man she had the pleasure—[i]or displeasure[/i]—of sleeping with. Well endowed to match. And Magni? [i]Well[/i]... He was a God. You don’t get to have that grand of a presence without the manhood to match. She nearly looked, nearly let her gaze slip past the elastic waistband of his shorts and drift farther south to see if she was right, but for once, she showed some semblance of restraint. After all, why rush when that was the end goal? 

She pushed off the weight machine she was leaning against and made her way over to where Luke sat. [color=217c85]"She doesn’t seem like the working out type,"[/color] Ronnie mused as slowly circled him, trailing the tips of her fingers along his flexed bicep until her palms rested upon his shoulders. [color=217c85]"I’ll confess, I’ve never been much for weight lifting myself."[/color] As she continued to speak, her thumbs started rubbing small circles, pressing into the muscles of Luke’s back as she worked any knots and tension loose. [color=217c85]"I’ve always preferred cardio. Something that gets my heart racing—"[/color] her grip tightened in a subtle emphasis that only the man beneath her hands would notice. [color=217c85]"—and my blood pumping."[/color]

The tips of her fingers teased along the back of Luke’s neck, working their way up to the base of his skull and through the sweat-dampened blond hair. [color=217c85]"I’ve learned some techniques that are [i]quite[/i] optimal for three people… Like the [i]Eiffel Tower[/i]."[/color] Her voice purred as she gave his hair a small, playful tug. Just enough to catch a quick glimpse down into his eyes as her smirk turned seductively mischievous. [color=217c85]"It works best with a balance of strength, and flexibility."[/color] Her gaze flitted over toward Magni as she took in his form once again. [color=217c85]"You both, no doubt, have muscle to spare and I’ve been told I’m quite… [i]pliant.[/i]"[/color]

Ronnie’s hands settled on him like she was claiming territory, thumbs pressing into muscle with slow, deliberate circles. Luke felt the subtle tightening in his shoulders before he consciously relaxed them, lips twitching faintly as he fought the urge to laugh outright at how blatant she was being. It would have been impressive, really, if Magni weren’t so completely untouched by the undercurrent. The god took her words at face value, earnest and open, while Ronnie wove implication into every syllable like silk.

And there it was again, that strange, inconvenient tug in Luke’s chest.

For a fleeting second, discomfort brushed against him. This felt different from flirting with Tobias or teasing someone who understood the game. Magni’s innocence wasn’t stupidity; it was sincerity. There was something almost unfair about dangling bait in front of someone who didn’t realize he was standing near a hook. Luke’s jaw tightened subtly. Wasn’t that the point, though? Manipulation was leverage. Leverage was power.

He mentally shook himself free of the thought. What was wrong with him today? Sentimentality. That was all. Old halls. Old faces. The ghost of who he’d once pretended to be. He lifted the weight again, steady and controlled, focusing on the burn in his bicep as Ronnie’s fingers threaded briefly into his hair. He let out a slow breath through his nose, the corner of his mouth curving just enough to play along.

[color=995749]"I’ve heard that can be quite the workout,"[/color] he managed smoothly, though the spark behind it wasn’t quite as bright as usual. The dumbbell rose and fell again. Discipline. Focus. [color=995749]"Better to have two stronger partners for that technique,"[/color] he added, tone light, eyes sliding toward Magni with a faint smirk that suggested camaraderie more than corruption.

His gaze lingered just long enough to sell it before he returned to the lift, muscles flexing beneath gray fabric, breath even and measured. Whatever strange hesitation had crept into him, he buried it beneath repetition and charm.

Magni nodded slowly, finishing the set before alternating which arm he worked. [color=00aeef]"I am unfamiliar with this Tower of Eiffel, or how it would sufficiently train the three of us…."[/color] he muttered, his brows knit in confusion as he racked his brain for a memory that eluded him. [color=00aeef]"But if thou is certain it might provide a sufficient challenge, it would be foolish to deny such hospitality."[/color] He did not know this Ronnie well, but Luke was an old comrade. He could not quite keep up with Magni’s strength, but he bore strength unlike any mortal he had met. If Luke believed this workout would be fulfilling, Magni trusted that it would most certainly aid him in some way. [color=00aeef]"What equipment dost thou require?"[/color]

[color=217c85]"I’m not surprised you’ve never heard of it,"[/color] Ronnie replied plainly, like she was sharing some hidden secret to perfect muscular tone, not weaving a web in an attempt to trap the God. [color=217c85]"Most people shun it because it is [i]quite[/i] intensive. So much so that it is often practiced in the nude. Clothing can be fairly restrictive during the technique and is known to hinder results."[/color] As she spoke, her hands ran along Luke’s shoulders, down his flexing biceps and back up. [color=217c85]"Not to mention people are [i]incredibly[/i] prudish when it comes to nudity."[/color]

Her gaze drifted between both men, watching the way they lifted their weights almost in sync. There was a moment where her mind got lost in what those arms could do, to herself… to each other. Ronnie was an adventurous woman and the tower opened up so many possibilities. She got to try two women at once, why not two men? She was a simple woman after all, and the prospect of two toned and muscular men having their way with her [i]and[/i] each other was just too delightful not to try. 

[color=217c85]"No equipment is necessary,"[/color] she answered his question as she moved to stand beside Luke, letting her arm drape across his shoulders. [color=217c85]"It’s all about counter weight and opposing forces—"[/color] she paused as a feigned expression of realization and disappointment played across her face. [color=217c85]"[i]Damn.[/i] I forgot about Phil’s new [i]‘rule’[/i]. I don’t imagine he’d be very appreciative seeing us like that in the middle of the gym, even if it was for constructive purposes."[/color] Ronnie sighed and shrugged her shoulders with a practiced skill of faking her emotions like a skilled actor. [color=217c85]"Oh well…"[/color]

Luke listened to Ronnie spin her web with the faintest curve of amusement at the corner of his mouth, the sound of her voice sliding between mischief and mock sincerity. He felt her hands roaming over his shoulders, down his arms, tracing the rise and fall of muscle as he continued his lifts. He ignored it outwardly, refusing to acknowledge how each touch made him hyperaware of the way his body responded, the subtle tightening beneath her palms, the way the fabric stretched as he moved, how his pants became a little tighter with the gentler touch. Discipline, he reminded himself. Control.

He chuckled under his breath as she invoked Phil’s rule, the performance almost admirable in its theatrical disappointment. The weight lowered into its cradle with a quiet metallic thud, and Luke rolled his shoulders once before straightening fully. For a fleeting second, that same swell of something personal brushed his ribs again, memory, history, familiarity, but he pressed it flat without ceremony. None of it mattered. What he felt meant nothing. What he wanted meant nothing. The mission was the only thing that deserved oxygen.

[color=995749]"I don’t particularly care what Phil thinks,"[/color] he murmured, voice smooth and almost lazy as he turned to face both of them. His eyes moved between Ronnie’s feigned innocence and Magni’s earnest confusion, something sharp and calculating settling quietly behind the charm. He took a step closer, posture open but deliberate, the faintest edge creeping into his grin.

[color=995749]"I’ve heard others are quite loose with the rules,"[/color] he continued lightly, letting the words hang just long enough to suggest more than they stated. [color=995749]"What’s stopping us?"[/color] The smile that followed was warm, magnetic, almost playful. Almost.

There was [i]something[/i] lingering under the surface of the conversation just out of Magni's reach. He wasn't precisely sure what rule of Phil's they would need to break. After all, if they were staying in the gym, they wouldn't be leaving the premises on their own. There was always the chance this trick would involve some sort of travel, which gave him pause. He would not leave without at least letting his lover know, especially given the dangers their unknown enemies posed.

That being said… an intense workout in the nude was not as scandalous to him as it was to most Midgardians in the tower. While Luke and Ronnie were both quite attractive, nakedness without sensuality was as casual as breathing or eating. The breeches he wore were more to avoid another unfortunate situation of getting sensitive areas caught up in ropes or pulleys. Holding skin was far easier than trying to clasp fabric. So, Magni simply nodded along, offering a small smile. [color=00aeef]"Well… I doubt our comrades will wake from their slumber to disturb us."[/color] He gave one more passing glance to the entrance of the gym before sliding off his bottoms.

Ronnie was honestly surprised at how easy it was to get Magni naked. Was she that good or was he that dense? As much as she was the first person to inflate her own ego, it was likely that the latter was the culprit. Her gaze trailed over to the god. He had zero hesitations and wasted no time at all before removing his shorts. Her brows rose as her eyes fell, unabashedly, to what lived beneath the tight fabric. She drew in a deep breath and held it, taking in his… [i]magnitude[/i] as she ran the tip of her tongue along the front her teeth behind her pursed lips. [i]Oh this was going to be fun.[/i] Matching his enthusiasm and lack of inhibitions, she grabbed the hem of her shirt and pulled it over her head without making a show of it. She hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her shorts as she glanced back over her shoulder toward Luke, flashing him a quick wink along with a devious smile. [color=217c85]"I hope you’re well rested."[/color]

[i][color=995749]If Hell is real,[/color][/i] he realized, lips twitching with the urge to fold into something less certain, less amused, [i][color=995749]I’m going there.[/color][/i]

The thought passed through him like a shadow, brief but unmistakable, before he forced it down beneath the easy arrogance he wore so well. His mouth curved instead into a cocky smirk as he reached for the hem of his shirt and pulled it free, tossing it aside with careless confidence. The lights of the gym traced every line of his torso as he moved, muscle catching the light in sharp relief. His gaze swept over Magni in turn, strength meeting strength, and the smirk stretched into something brighter, almost competitive.

Luke rolled his shoulders once, loosening tension that had nothing to do with exertion. The moment hovered on the edge of something unspoken, charged with intent and possibility.

[color=995749]"We don’t have to worry about being disturbed here,"[/color] he said lightly, reaching out to slide his hand along the curve of Ronnie’s back. [color=995749]"We have plenty of time to build up to a great… workout."[/color][/color][/justify][/indent][/indent][/indent][/indent]

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