Page 17 of Gym Bros
“You can make noise, too,” I say, testing him. I inhale and let out a sigh with my exhale. He opens one eye, and he’s frowning. “Try it.”
He does, but his “sigh” is more like a groan. Deep and low. Slightly shaky. It’s—interesting.
“Like that?” he asks.
“Yeah.” Sue me if I want to hear it again.
“So, this is yoga, huh?”
“The breath is the foundation. If you can learn to control your breath, you’ll have better command of your body. That’s yoga.”
“Hm.” He groan-sighs again.
Already, I see several things I’d like to correct. I’m a hands-on instructor, nudging a lower back here, straightening a neck there. What I’d like to do with him is put my hands on his shoulders and force them away from his ears. Press my fingertips gently on the hinges of his jaw and encourage him to let the muscles go slack. Tap his forehead and tell it to relax.
I consider all this—him, and finally ask, “How good do you wanna get at this?”
“I wanna be the best,” he murmurs like it’s his personal mantra.
“Can you drop your shoulders?”
He does, but barely.
“Relax your jaw…your forehead.”
He grimaces, face tensing instead. “Am I doing anything right?”
“These aren’t criticisms.” I reach out and put my hands on his stubborn shoulders. The muscles are bunched and tight beneath my hands. He peeks at me with the one eye again.
His tendons are stiff, and I let my touch feather across them. “Here. Drop from here. You might feel like you’re forcing it at first. That’s okay.”
He does what I tell him and says. “I feel tight everywhere. I’ve been sitting around doing nothing for a month.”
Decision made. Looks like we’ll be sitting and breathing for an hour. I’ve got my work cut out for me.
4
SAMUEL
Evan and his enormous dog are on my couch. We’re talking about his sex life, and he’s going into a lot more detail than usual.
All I knew was he was hooking up with his boss during work hours. Now I know he considers the arrangement utilitarian at best—a way for both of them to blow off steam—no feelings involved. Where he’s got feelings, however, is at home—for his roommate—who apparently pretends he doesn’t exist. This is the first I’m hearing about that.
“I think he might actually be straight,” Evan says.
“Has he said he is?” I ask.
“No.” He goes on to describe that whenever he gets within a few feet of his roommate, the roommate puts more distance between them or makes an excuse to leave the room. Evan is loudly gay with a penchant for showing off his very nice body in crop tops and short shorts. Turns out, he’s also a camboy on Chaturbate, which is news to me, but he claims it pays great once you get a loyal client base.
Eventually he gets sick of going on about his hopeless situationwith his roommate and wants me to talk. I tell him about my first yoga session, all the breathing, and Calyx.
“Calyx?” he asks, perking up.
“Yeah. Have you heard of him?”
Evan, who always has his phone in his hand, thumbs the screen a few times before turning it around to show me a TikTok video of the very same man who put me through an hour’s worth of breathing exercises. In the video, Calyx is showing off a pair of skin-tight, white swim trunks from every conceivable angle. His chest is smooth and golden. His hair is shiny and mussed. His lips are red and glossy.
“ThisCalyx?” Evan asks.
