Page 115 of Gym Bros
The coast feels clear.
Calyx’s size nine feet in my shower shoes look adorable, but it means I have to chance it and trust the cleaning crew is doing good work. If I get foot fungus, I have no doubt he’ll quit me like his day job. I literally wear my tennis shoes until the last possible second. He’s already naked in the shower stall, his back to me, letting the lukewarm water spray his face.
He’s got chills everywhere, and yes, my dick is still hard. No fucking condom, though, and I’ve been a very good boy about not bringing it up.
Looks like I’m gonna need to get creative.
Or we could just rinse off and get the fuck out of here, but look at him…
“Angel kitten?” I say.
“Yes, dear?”
“I might need to fuck your ass cheeks.”
“Why stop there?” he asks.
“Because I don’t keep condoms here.”
“That makes me happy,” he says.
“Does it?”
“You spend hours every day here, and I know girls train with you, too.”
“I haven’t noticed ‘em,” I tell him.
The women are hard not to notice in terms of their fighting, but has one of them caught my interest? When I have this sweet candy waiting for me every day? Hell no. I kick off the shoes and step onto the wet tile, crowding under the water behind him. “This is our first shower together,” I note.
“And such a romantic locale,” he says, gesturing to the boring gray stall with no door.
“You know I always try so hard to impress you on our dates.”
His hand finds my jaw, and he rubs it. I find myself bending lower to bury my face in his hair. I take a deep breath. With my arms around him, I find myself relaxing significantly. Like I didn’t know how jacked I was until this one, soft, quiet moment.
His fingertips glide back and forth across my forearm, and he leans back against me.
“That was fun,” I say to him.
“Yeah,” he whispers. “Thanks for inviting me.”
“Were you bored all by yourself?”
“Kinda.”
I smile and kiss his cheek. “I mighta missed you.”
“I mighta missed you, too.”
“”Cause you know,” I add, “no yoga tonight.”
“No. I guess I’m on my own.”
“What are you gonna do?” I ask, humoring his bullshit.
“Maybe watch Guardians of the Galaxy?”
“Oh really. Chris Pratt? Without me?”
