Work Text:
“Holy fuck-!” Piers’ arms buckled under the unexpected weight. How the hell did this thing flap behind Leon when he ran?!
“What’s this made of, spun lead?! No wonder you’re so fit.” He wheezed. Leon wrapped an arm around his shoulders to steady him.
“It’s made from the same material that you find in vests some people use for training or when they want to give themselves an extra challenge.”
“And you wore this since you’d been 12??”
“No, no, don’t worry! That cape was really just a cape back then, although still pretty heavy. It was made of thick wooloo wool, so that it would dry off fast and wouldn’t tear easily.” Leon pulled the garment from Piers’ arms and put it over his forearm. But did the bloke have to show off by holding it one-handed? Piers averted his eyes from his biceps.
“I only started wearing the modified capes once I was 17, when it wouldn’t mess with my back. I liked the idea of using it for training, and well. Nowadays I know I just found the weight of it comforting.”
“Huh.” That wasn’t something Piers had considered. “Like a weighted blanket, just fancier and showing off sponsor logos?”
Leon's eyes darted away. “Pretty much. I used to lay it over my body when I napped in cabbies and the locker rooms.
“I wondered why I became more irritable once I stopped wearing it regularly. It was easier to breathe, and my shoulders hurt less. But at the same time my chest went tight more often as if I couldn’t.”
“That sounds awful.” Piers could and did sing about anxiety paying an unwanted visit. What had it been like for Leon in those months?
Apropos Leon. He’d still got an arm around his shoulders. It felt like a big, heavy, and toasty scarf.
Piers did his best not to shudder.
“It did. Quite a lot, actually.” Leon sighed. “I’m glad that I found some stuff that works, like my Battle Tower outfit, even before I got the diagnosis. Or else I’d have gotten nothing done.”
“Your Battle Tower outfit?”
“I wouldn’t have thought it’d be so comfortable either, but I found a seamstress who helped me. The jhodpurs and the shirt are just tight enough to be both comfortable and give me the pressure on my skin I need, yet they don’t hinder my mobility. The same goes for my coat!”
“And here I thought you were making another fashion statement,” Piers teased.
“Says the man who I’ve caught staring at my ass when I fetched the cape,” he teased back unexpectedly. His laughter mixed with Piers' spluttered denial as his face and his chest flushed, completely visible to the ex-champion.
Why did he have to wear his old band shirt with the low neck cut again?
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Alternative:
“At the time it didn’t occur to me that it’d also bring up a new wave of obsession with my legs and my ass.” A twinkle appeared in his eyes as he looked at Piers who spluttered in laughter. “You’ve got no idea how many people I’ve caught staring at my behind when they thought I wasn’t aware.”
Oh no. The heat started to gather under Piers’ face. Why did he have to wear his old band shirt with the low neck cut again?
“Yeah, I call bullshit on that. You talked off that woman’s ear the other week about dynamaxing while she tried to flirt with you.”
Leon huffed, rolling his eyes.
“I might be still rubbish when it comes to recognizing it, but I’m observant. A nice lady on my security team sat me down when I was 16 and explained to me that I’m apparently very attractive and that my looks alone would be enough to draw people in. I started to recognize those looks from then on. I’ve been regularly on the internet.
“And I happened to look over my shoulder at you while your eyes were pretty far down on my body.”
"Fine, I was checking you out. You're not my type, but you're still cute."