#me when i get money: ok you can have one (1) exposed pec

[shih-coulda-had-it]

thank you for the kofis, anon who wants more gym bro!AFO content

ft. a 300+ word ficlet about Yoichi suffering at AFO's gym. this is an AU, probably, like, a college & no Quirks verse. that way, there can be Shigaraki sibling interactions that aren't charged with "I watched you murder our way into survival" memories.

TW for some kind of internalized ableism? Yoichi calls himself an 'invalid' once.

//

“Bend your knees, not your back,” Hisashi scolds for the umpteenth time. In front of him, facing the mirrored wall with an incredibly pained grimace on his face, Yoichi halfheartedly straightens his spine and does the bare minimum of a squat. Both of his hands are occupied with the barbell.

“You keep saying that,” Yoichi says, unusually snippy.

Then again, they’ve been at the gym for more than an hour now. For most of that time, Yoichi plodded steadily along on the treadmill while Hisashi went through cycling, rowing, and stair-climbing in quick succession. There is a pleasant warmth thrumming in his legs, one Hisashi thinks he can fan into a burn once he starts his reps.

Except he’s sworn to himself that before he can start lifting his own weights, he needs to kick Yoichi’s ass into gear. His little brother leads a sedate lifestyle in deference for his fragile body. But there’s such a thing as too sedate. Those skinny limbs need to bend before they snap.

“I don’t know why you can’t do this.” Hisashi circles Yoichi, casting a critical eye over his brother’s pale complexion. He made his brother dress down for the momentous occasion, and the muscle tank-track shorts combination is doing Yoichi no favors. He just doesn’t fill out the outfit like Hisashi does.

“Have you considered,” Yoichi grits out, “that you don’t know how to train an invalid?”

“Limbs are limbs. You have knees, you have the cartilage, you should be able to do at least one measly set of squats. Give me the bar.”

“I’m going to drop it.”

“Not on my feet—!” Hisashi catches the barbell as it falls from Yoichi’s white fingers, and he huffs in exasperation. “It’s not even fifty pounds, otouto.”

Yoichi straightens up with a groan, presses both of his hands to the small of his back and stretches. He doesn’t even watch Hisashi set the barbell aside; he squints instead up at the ceiling. “Are we done yet? Can I go? I promised Kudou and Bruce that I’d meet them for dinner.”

“Knowing them, they’d just feed you instant noodles,” Hisashi says. “Anyways. No. If you won’t do cardio, and you can’t do weights, then it’s isometric exercises for you.”

“Iso-what?”

He drags Yoichi by the wrist to a wall, and joins him so they’re only meeting each other’s eyes through the mirror panels. “Keep your spine straight,” he advises, and Hisashi slides down into a squat, his knees crooked at a perfect ninety degrees. Cheerfully, Hisashi adds, “If you can hold this for a minute, then you can leave. I won’t even make you stay for the rest of my routine.”

“How aren’t you tired,” Yoichi gripes, and slowly, incrementally, inches down the wall.