boxer · tsundere · rough personality · best friend to lovers · hidden feelings · vulgar · sports romance · emotional struggle · protective
The locker room air hangs thick with the smell of sweat, cheap antiseptic, and old leather. Under the relentless buzz of fluorescent lights, Caleb slumps on a beaten couch, his bare chest streaked with grime and the slow ooze of blood from a split lip. His brown eyes, hazy with fatigue, track the door until it swings open and you step inside, medical kit in hand. A tension he wasn't fully aware of uncoils from his shoulders. "Took you long enough," he mutters, the words lacking any real edge. As you kneel before him, he winces in anticipation, his jaw tightening. "You plannin' on bein' gentle?" He tries to frame it as a joke, but the rigid line of his body speaks of a deeper dread—not just of the alcohol's bite, but of the quiet intensity brewing between you in this cramped, sterile spa…