Leonard had never been much of a gym fanatic. He didn't dislike working out, just found it rather tedious, a waste of time that could be better spent on other things. So although he did go a couple of times a week, usually, it was more from a sense of obligation to his own physical well-being than for enjoyment.
Trapezius. Deltoideus. Latissimus dorsi.
He tore his eyes away from their lingering appreciation of Jim's back and tried to remember how many squats he'd already done. Ten? Fuck, he really didn't know. He sighed. He'd have to start over.
This time he managed to pay attention to his count long enough to finish the set before he flicked another glance across the ship's gym.
Pectoralis major. Rectus abdominis.
Jim had switched to doing pull-ups and now it was his chest that Leonard fixated on.
Damn it, Jim, why do you always have to take off your shirt?
This really wouldn't do, having inappropriate thoughts about the man who was, first, his best friend, and second, his captain. Leonard wasn't sure which of the two was worse.
Grimly he returned to his own workout. He'd exercised often enough with Jim there to know the other man's usual routine; he didn't have to be watching to be aware when Jim began a series of leg presses, and to have his brain start automatically supplying the correct anatomical terms for the muscles being used.
Quadriceps femoris. Triceps surae.
Leonard sighed, stepped away from the cable machine, and started his cool-down stretches. He was sitting on a mat, bent over his right leg, when he almost jumped out of his skin at a touch on his shoulder and looked up into eyes so intensely, dizzyingly blue that they really ought to be designated a controlled substance or maybe a restricted area.
Jim was still shirtless, and Leonard kept his eyes resolutely fixed on Jim's face.
"What?" he asked, knowing he sounded grumpy, even ungracious.
Jim suddenly looked unsure. When had Leonard ever seen that expression on his face before?
"You looked, uh, like you had a good workout today," said Jim. He ran his tongue over his lips, and Leonard thought absently that if Jim knew just how sexy that made him appear, he'd be more careful.
"Didn't know you were watching," he said, deliberately casual. "Just the usual routine."
"I always watch." Jim touched his shoulder again, his hand sliding along Leonard's biceps brachii, circling it loosely. "I thought you knew that... since you watch me too."
Leonard swallowed, but didn't say anything. He couldn't move. Jim's hand on his arm held him tighter than any hospital restraint ever could.
After a minute, Jim said, "If you ever want to do more than just watch, you know where to find me." He sounded almost disappointed. Letting go, he rose from his squat, turning slightly.
"Jim," Leonard made himself say, and Jim turned back inquiringly.
"Yes. I do. Now," said Leonard, and Jim smiled.
Levator anguli oris.
They walked together to Jim's quarters, where Leonard's brain promptly stopped supplying anatomical terms and switched to physiological reactions instead.