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He collapses onto the ground, panting and seeing stars. A hand buries itself in his thick hair and gently moves back and forth; he leans into the touch, closing his eyes.
"You did good, JJ," Zamir murmurs, still stroking his hand through his hair.
"Doesn't feel like it."
"Well, I agree with Zamir," Sam says, leaning against the wall, "You did excellent today, Kori."
"thanks, Sam."
"Oh, so when he says it, it's thanks Sam, but when I say it, it's-"
"thanks, Mir."
Zamir huffs, rolling his eyes. He still bends down and lifts Kori up to carry him bridal-style though. (He's so strong, it doesn't make sense sometimes.) At any other time, Kori would flail and tell him to put him down, but after a round of intense physical therapy, he's practically putty in Zamir's hands. "'preciate it," he mumbles, curling into his friend's chest.
"You like a big baby after yo sessions," Zamir chuckles, chest vibrating against Kori's head.
"Fuck you,"
"Not yet."
"Eugh," his nose wrinkles, "Put me down."
"I'm jus playin, bro."
"Nah, put me down weirdo."
"Hush, you can't even walk." Zamir shoots back as he begins to gently set him down on a massage table. "I can still kick yo ass," Kori says weakly.
Zamir looks him up and down, then scoffs. He doesn't say a single word.
