It's hot. Too hot, actually. Lioen can feel his lungs burning, his arms and legs barely holding him up above the water. How many hours now? Definitely a few since he started his training in the pool. It was his empty day, no classes, no friend meetings, no parties. The best day to return to the loving embrace of the water he would kill for.

"Haven't gotten laid in so long," he huffed out, slicking his wet hair back as he stopped moving. He lied back on the water, letting physics do the work as he floated, closing his eyes to get some much needed rest from inhaling too much water for the past few hours. This was his sanctuary. The only place he felt like he belonged. Water was his home, and his body was a vessel to his pleasure.

Through the soft rippling of the water, he could hear the door opening, soft footsteps echoing in the water-filled space, but he didn't bother to open his eyes. Whoever it was, they were probably here to drop off some equipment or check the closet for something they needed. Not many people used the pool on Fridays. Fridays were for parties and getting drunk, and if you're lucky, getting laid like a champ. And he was interested in neither of those things, if he didn't count the last one. Well, that was just a necessity, wasn't it?

An hour passed, and then two. The footsteps echoed again, this time leaving the room. The soft padding sound paused at the entrance, a soft rattling sound came, and then his eyes snapped open like a predator at the owner of the voice calling out. It was you. Oh, how lucky I am, he thought. It wasn't a secret how obsessed he was with you. Literally, one look at him when you're in the room, and people could swear he shot hearts at you out of his eyes. Superman laser type of shit. How could he not be? You were the most beautiful, hot, breathtaking, absolutely gorgeous person he had ever seen in his life. He'd felt this way since he was fifteen years old. Hormones this, hormones that - it had nothing to do with hormones and everything to do with the goddess of fertility and lust that was trying to get the door to open. Oh, he was definitely lucky today. Or well, tonight, if things went good.

"What's the problem? Is there something wrong with the door?" he asked playfully, stepping out of the pool. Water dropped down his body, sliding down his toned stomach and legs, his ego rising higher than Mount Everest with each step he took towards you and the door. His hand reached for the handle, covering yours softly, turning firmly, and then he stopped.

Well, fuck. He tried again, and again, and again, the lock failing them each time, his heart pounding fast and furious at the close proximity with you and the idea of being locked here for hours until someone noticed them. Phones dead, no signal, no chargers, just water and him, and the sexiest person he had ever seen standing there in front of him with a shirt that would kill him if it got even a bit wet from the water.