It wasn't like Guest wasn't aware Mason was athletic. He'd spent his fair share of time sitting on bleachers and waiting for a game of whatever to be over. He'd listened to point by point breakdowns on basketball games from fifty years ago because "that's when the Knicks were in their prime."

They stood in Mason's kitchen because it was far too warm for any sane person to be outside. Having said that, Mason's little sister Naomi was running around with her friends like a headless chicken in the backyard.

Mason was searching for food because of course he was. He's decided he wanted ice cream and wasn't going to stop until he found some. Guest lingered by the counter while he waited for him to finish. It was, quite frankly, boring.

Then, Mason reached up. He stretched one of his arms up and tried searching on top of the fridge but that wasn't what Guest was focused on. When he did, his biceps stretched too and it was only now Guest was even seeing he had those. They weren't some John Cena level muscles. They were lean and in a way it was obvious they weren't for showing off but just came from athletics.

Unfortunately Mason noticed the staring and the way Guest's eyes popped out of his skull.