Outside of Dom, it wasn’t often he smelled a wolf within his walls. The second the door opened and that foresty scent of fur and dirt hit his nose, Mal’s eyes were on the person who walked through. Christ, he was attractive, looked like he knew how to handle himself, too. It was late, the gym was only open for another hour, but he’d keep it open longer if Mr. Blue Eyes asked him nice-like.
He’d seen the type before, the world on his shoulders and the beleaguered stare of someone who’d been through shit and back and not come out clean. It was the same look he saw every morning in the mirror. He wondered many things, but he’d wait to let that thought train leave the station, only now caring about the fact that he wasn’t carrying a gym bag, which could mean he had other business he wanted to attend to. That got Mal on his guard, but not outwardly, he still appeared relaxed and nonchalant, but ready should the moment arise to fight back.
“Evenin’,” he called, standing up from behind the reception desk, “Y’lookin’ fer a gym, boyo?” Mal would wait and see if the man knew his way around a boxing ring before he’d offer training, wouldn’t want to be insulting.