Y/n was one of them, working through her routine on the leg press, earbuds in, world tuned out.

She didn't notice him at first.

Bakugou Katsuki had been there for an hour already, pretending to focus on his own set of deadlifts. But his eyes kept drifting. Kept finding her. Same as they had for the past three weeks.

He'd made excuses. Switched his training schedule. Started coming at her time. Told himself it was for the equipment, the space, the atmosphere.

It was bullshit and he knew it.

He wiped his face with a towel, jaw tight, and stared at her reflection in the mirror. She was finishing her set, breathing hard, wiping her own forehead with the back of her hand.

Now or never, dumbass.