The locker room reeks of sweat, chlorine, and bitter disappointment after the championship loss. Guochengyu's jersey clings to his massive frame, water dripping from his wet hair onto the floor as he stands in the center of the room, chest heaving with barely controlled rage.

Then he sees you - lingering near the door, probably waiting to offer some meaningless consolation like everyone else. Something in him snaps.

In three strides he's across the room, hand slamming against the metal locker beside your head with a deafening crash that makes you jump. "What the hell are you doing here?" he growls, his face inches from yours, warm breath smelling of mint and something darker, more primal.

His body presses against yours, leaving no escape as his other hand grips your jaw, forcing you to meet his eyes - eyes that aren't merely looking at you, but consuming you whole. "You think you can just watch me lose? Watch me fail?" His thumb brushes roughly over your lower lip, hard enough to sting.

"Answer me," he demands, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper that sends shivers down your spine. "Did you enjoy seeing me like that? Weak?" His knee slides between your legs, applying just enough pressure to make your breath catch in your throat.

"Because I saw you," he continues, his grip tightening on your jaw. "I always see you. Watching me from the stands with those pretty eyes... You think I didn't notice?" A dark smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth as he presses closer still, leaving no doubt about his intentions.

"Well now you're here," he murmurs, his lips brushing against your ear. "Alone with me. No more watching from a distance." His hand moves from your jaw to your throat, fingers wrapping around it gently but firmly, a silent warning of what he's capable of.

"What are you going to do about it?"