Doesn’t Suit You by NEguy

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Vinny hesitated at the entrance. He was used to polished franchise gyms, not this—a drafty warehouse filled with heavy iron and loud men. The space was wide and industrial, the high ceilings echoing with the smashing of barbels. He flinched at the noise, holding his bag as he edged toward the front desk. Keeping his eyes down, he tried to focus on the paperwork, just wanting to get past the counter and find a corner where he wouldn't be noticed.

Across the room, Luca noticed him immediately. He stood near the squat rack, thick arms relaxed at his sides, posture straight without effort. His tank top clung to his broad chest, darkened with sweat. His hair was clipped short, military high and tight, exposing the strong lines of his skull and thick, strong neck. He looked like someone who knew exactly why he was there.

Luca’s eyes lingered on Vinny longer than polite. Not staring—surveying. Vinny shifted his weight, suddenly conscious of how he stood, how he held himself, and how out of place he must look by comparison.

Luca took a drink from his bottle, then set it down and walked over. He did not rush.

"First time," Luca said. It was not a question.

Vinny turned too quickly. "Yeah. Just signing up."

Luca stopped an arm’s length away. Close enough that Vinny could smell soap and sweat. Luca’s gaze moved slowly, deliberately, from Vinny’s face to his shoulders, his arms, his stance.

"You look lost," Luca said calmly.

Vinny flushed. "I kind of am."

Luca smiled faintly. Not warm. Not cruel. Interested. "I’m Luca."

"Vinny."

They shook hands. Luca’s grip was firm. He did not let go right away.

"What brought you in?" Luca asked.

Vinny hesitated. The honest answer he swallowed. "I want to change."

Luca grinned, pleased by Vinny's response. "You train before?" he asked.

Vinny shook his head. "No."

Luca nodded once. "Good. I can show you around," Luca continued. "If you listen."

"I will," Vinny said immediately.

Luca’s eyebrow lifted slightly, amused. "Didn’t even think about it." Vinny realized that was true.

The workout started slow and escalated quickly. Luca corrected Vinny’s stance with brief touches. A hand on his elbow. Fingers at his lower back. Each adjustment came with a quiet instruction delivered close to his ear. Whenever Vinny hesitated, Luca was there. Watching. Waiting.

"You can do more than that," he said at one point, standing close behind him as Vinny struggled through a set. "Don’t stop until I tell you."

Vinny’s arms burned. His breathing strained, his body sore. He did not stop. Luca’s hand hovered near his waist, not touching but close enough to be felt.

"You like being told what to do," Luca said quietly.

Vinny swallowed. "I like when you tell me."

Luca exhaled through his nose. "Yeah, I thought so."

Vinny brushed his hair out of his eyes again without thinking. Luca noticed immediately.

"That’s distracting you," he said.

Vinny laughed softly. "Sorry."

Luca stepped closer and lifted a section of Vinny’s hair between his fingers. The contact was brief but intimate. Vinny froze.

"You always wear it like this?" Luca asked, looking at Vinny's medium-length, light brown hair.

Vinny nodded. "Yeah. I do."

Luca let the hair slip through his fingers slowly. "Doesn’t suit you."

Vinny’s pulse spiked. "What would?"

Luca held his gaze for a moment. "We’ll talk about it."

By the time Luca finally called it, Vinny was barely holding himself together. His arms hung limp from exhaustion, lungs burning as he bent forward with his hands on his knees. Sweat clung to his skin, his shirt damp and heavy, his hair wet and plastered to his forehead. None of it mattered. The ache, the fatigue, and the trembling muscles were background noise compared to the pull in his gut every time Luca had stepped close.

"Locker room," Luca said, clapping his hands once. "You’re done."

Vinny straightened immediately. His body moved before his thoughts caught up, his feet following Luca without hesitation. The locker room was quiet, the cool air brushing against his overheated skin. Luca dropped his gym bag on a bench and turned, watching Vinny. Not assessing—deciding.
"Sit," Luca said, tapping the bench with two fingers.

Vinny sat. Luca reached into his bag and pulled out the clippers. Vinny’s breath caught. "Luca…"

He stepped closer. Close enough that Vinny could feel him behind him, solid and unavoidable. "You said you wanted a change."

Vinny swallowed. His pulse spiked. He nodded.

"That’s what I thought."

The clippers buzzed to life, the sound low and steady. Luca positioned himself directly behind Vinny, denying him space. His thighs pressed lightly against Vinny’s back, his hips close enough that Vinny was acutely aware of him. It was not subtle. He placed one hand on Vinny’s shoulder, grounding him. The other guided his head forward.

The first pass of the clippers went straight through his hairline, sending nearly six inches of light brown hair sliding down into his lap. The vibration sent a sharp wave through him, but it was Luca’s body pressing closer that made Vinny jolt.

"Stay still," Luca said quietly.

His hips remained close as he worked, brushing against Vinny with each shift in position. It felt intentional—a reinforcement of who was in control. Another pass. Then another. Hair kept falling, soft against his shoulders and the floor.

"You’re doing good," Luca said.

Vinny nodded, throat tight. The closeness, and the way Luca worked without asking permission, made his head feel light. Luca paused occasionally, running his palm over the newly buzzed sections of Vinny’s scalp, checking the evenness. Each touch lingered just long enough to send a shiver through him.

When Luca finally stepped back, the absence felt abrupt. "Look," he said.

Vinny lifted his head and met his reflection. His hair was gone. Not trimmed, but stripped down to a #2 guard. His face looked sharper; there was nothing soft left to hide behind.

"We’re not done," Luca said.

Vinny’s breath hitched, but he did not turn around. The clippers buzzed again—louder this time. Luca removed the guard. He stepped back into place, closer than before. The clippers met Vinny’s scalp again, erasing the last distance between skin and blade.

The sensation was intense. Overwhelming. Vinny’s fingers dug into his thighs as Luca worked slowly, his body never pulling away. When the clippers finally shut off, Luca ran his palm slowly over Vinny’s head, feeling the tight, uniform stubble. His thumb brushed Vinny’s temple. Approving.

"That’s better," Luca said softly.

Vinny stood on unsteady legs and turned to the mirror again. The cut was tight, like a new recruit. Luca stepped in behind him, their reflections overlapping. His hands rested briefly at Vinny’s waist.

"You look right like this," he said.

Vinny nodded, heat pooling low in his stomach. "Then I’m glad."

Luca's hand slid up to the back of Vinny’s neck. "Good," he said. "That makes things easier. You keep checking it."

Vinny swallowed. "I can't help it."

Luca's hand came up, firm at the top of Vinny’s head, fingers spreading over the fresh buzz. His thumb traced the edge of Vinny’s hairline, slow and deliberate.

"Yeah," Luca said. "This is your haircut now."

Vinny nodded without thinking. "Okay." He was blushing, looking lost, but he was smiling

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