Angrily, Dustin grabbed a bottle of disinfectant and some paper towels to wipe down the machine. Picking up his water bottle, he moved on to something less sexual.
He considered the leg press, but decided the sliding back and forth would be too suggestive of bottoming. With warm cheeks, likely blazing red, Dustin instead sat down at the lateral pull-down machine. It might be overworking his arms, having just done the pec deck, but he couldn’t foresee anything sexual about the machine.
Dustin wedged his legs under the bracer bar and set the weights. Reaching high, the hem of his shirt slipped above his belly button as he grabbed ahold of the grips on the bar. Setting his legs, he leaned back and pulled the bar down to his chest.
He grunted with each repetition. Beads of sweat ran down from his already-soaked and overheated head to drip off the bottom of his chin, landing on his thoroughly-wet t-shirt and blending in. After a set of ten, he slowly lifted his arms, allowing the weights to help guide the bar back into place.
His arms hung there for a long moment, allowing the weight of the machine to pull him and stretch out his muscles. It felt good. With his legs braced and his upper body stretched taut, he felt restrained, immobile. He enjoyed the peace of the moment.
Dustin’s body hurt with a good pain.
The electronica piping through his earbuds morphed into an up-tempo pop song he’d always liked. The lyrics about illicit love laced through his thoughts.
The pleasure and immobility of this stretch would feel good if he were tied down to a mattress with the Kyle’s weight pressed down on him.
Dustin grumbled and pulled the earbuds out. They hung, suspended from his collar, in the middle of his chest. The tinny beats still reached his ears. Leaning back, he repositioned his grip and launched into his second set of lateral pull-downs.
He pushed out all thoughts of Kyle and instead focused on his technique, on the position and angle of his arms, the tempo of his breathing, the steadiness of his posture...and how much Kyle would appreciate his tight body.
Reaching for the disinfectant again, Dustin wiped down the machine. He tossed back a long slug of water and stood in the middle of the weight room, looking around. The place really emptied out—only half-full when he’d arrived, down to less than a dozen people. There were a few people among the machines with him and about four others on the treadmills and ellipticals.
Dustin’s movements stopped as his gaze settled on one of the runners. He tightened his grip on his bottle, the harsh crinkling of plastic filling the silence. On the treadmill in the far corner, going at a high speed, Kyle ran.
Soaked in sweat, his shirt clung to him, revealing his slender torso. Even from this distance, the prominent bumps of his nipples stood clearly visible against the wet cotton, as well as the long bulge in his shorts. Kyle stared at him with a heat that was impossible to miss.
It took an incredible force of will, and all of Dustin’s self-control, but he turned around and walked to a machine around a bend in the weight room.
Out of sight, out of mind.
His cock stiff and very noticeable, Dustin sat down at the ab machine and began rocking back and forth. As the repetitive squeak of the weights overtook the sound of his breathing, Kyle’s dick dominated his thoughts. He imagined it in front of him, the swing of the machine rocking in a nice cocksucking rhythm.
Who am I kidding?
He’d been horny for Kyle all day and nothing would end it, but the problem ventured into territory Dustin didn’t want to even name...emotions he wasn’t yet ready to admit he even felt for the man.
He launched into a second set without pausing for a rest in between. By the time he finished and wiped down the seat with another paper towel, his midsection twitched. He didn’t need to glance down to know he still sported a bulge the size of a skyscraper propped between his legs. Dustin finished the last of his water and stomped his way back to the change room.
He wanted desperately to look at Kyle one more time before he left, to fuel the masturbation session sure to start as soon as he got home. But Kyle wanted their relationship to be professional, so masturbating to the man would stoke fires in Dustin which should have long died out. No, he’d go home and whack off to good, meaningless porn. Despite all his self-assurances, he still stole a passing glance of his sweaty jock bouncing on the treadmill, skin glistening in the light of the gym.
His heart fell as he pushed through the change room door. As it shut behind him, he shut himself off from any hopes with Kyle.
He dialed in his locker combination and let out a brief flare of anger, slamming the door open. It clanged and echoed in the silence.
Dustin leaned against the frame of the open locker. He managed to focus on some self-care and not give into the torments of his unrequited lusts—unrequited love—but seeing Kyle and his apparent physical desires for Dustin brought back all the hurt and anger.
Cold shower might do the trick.
He stripped and walked naked to the showers, towel in one hand, leaving faint footprints of sweat on the cold, hard floor. The large open shower area was empty and dry; no one had been here for quite a while.
He hung his towel and turned the taps. Considering his hatred for cold showers, he reluctantly set it to steaming hot. He stepped under the spray and closed his eyes, allowing the water to wash over his body, rinsing away the sweat and any further mental anguish over Kyle. He ran his fingers through his hair and opened his eyes.
He half hoped to see Kyle also step into a shower. Though greatly relieved to see he was still alone, he quashed a wave of disappointment. That's what he would always be—alone.
He pumped his hand under the body wash dispenser, dumping it onto his head and massaging it into foam. Eyes closed, he put his head back under the water to rinse the soap out.
He opened his eyes and quickly shut them tight again. His lust-addled imagination had finally overtaken him—he was seeing things. He opened his eyes again and saw, no, it was not his imagination. It was astoundingly real.
Kyle stood at the entrance to the shower area, gloriously naked, a towel hanging in his hand at his side. Dustin took in the part of Kyle’s body he’d not seen until now—the tight and chiseled torso, the muscular chest, as his wild imagination led him to hope, and his tight rippling abs.
Each part of Kyle’s body deliciously tantalized Dustin—but there was something wholly different, extremely majestic, about seeing all of the parts together at once. Like something out of a wet dream, his body offered an impossible perfection Dustin deeply yearned for—to have, to hold, to love, to fuck—but felt he could never have.
Dustin’s eyes descended to the first part of Kyle he’d come to know a week ago. Long and hard, his penis stood at full attention. It bounced ever so slightly, in tune with what Dustin assumed to be Kyle’s rapid heartbeat.
Dustin’s elation dashed when Kyle chose the shower furthest from him—three showerheads over—and turned on the water. Dustin didn’t know what to make of the confusing mass of mixed signals he received over the past few days and the surge of them taking place right now. Could it be merely coincidence Kyle finished his workout at the same time? Even if it was, wouldn’t it have been more likely Kyle would hang around in the gym until he knew Dustin showered and left? Did Kyle come straight to the showers in hopes of seeing Dustin’s naked body? Maybe he hoped to have another bathroom blowjob as a post-workout cool-down?
But if Kyle secretly wanted more, then why choose the furthest showerhead and completely avoid all eye contact, even going so far as to face the other direction? Perhaps a war waged within his mind. Maybe he battled between what he thought he wanted and what he knew he wanted.
Either way, Dustin chose to respect Kyle’s wishes. He faced the opposite direction, as well, not even indulging in the free show of Kyle’s smooth back and perfectly round ass. If Kyle wanted something, he would have to make the first move, not the other way around.
He pumped another handful of body wash and ran it over his chest and arms, working the soap into a foamy lather. Behind him, he heard Kyle’s showerhead shut off—he wanted just a quick rinse, apparently. Dustin longed to watch Kyle’s glistening wet body saunter out of the showers, but he was resolute in facing the wall. He brought his chest under the stream of water and the soap ran in rivulets down his legs and toward the drain.
Behind him, closer, another shower turned on. Dustin hadn’t heard another person enter—and couldn’t recall seeing another male in the gym—and hadn’t heard the soft padding of Kyle’s feet against the tile floor as he walked out. Confused, he stole a quick glance over his shoulder.
Kyle still showered, but moved to the showerhead immediately beside him. Dustin’s half-erect penis stirred to full mast.
Dustin resumed facing the wall, painfully not watching Kyle, determined to force him to make the next move if he truly wanted something to happen.
His breath caught and his eyes fluttered closed as Kyle’s firm hands came to rest on either side of his hips. They stood, frozen, encased in steamy ice, neither moving. Dustin waited for Kyle to proceed—if Dustin were to make a move, he might scare him off. Several long heartbeats later, Kyle tugged on Dustin’s hips and stepped closer, bringing his perfect, hard cock firmly against the cleft between Dustin’s cheeks.
It fit so naturally, so hard, yet with a comforting softness to it. Dustin’s hole twitched, demanding to be stuffed with Kyle’s dick.
Again, their postures froze. Kyle did not move. Without even having to face him, Dustin could sense the battle within Kyle—should he proceed or should he get dressed and go home and pretend this never happened? Dustin had been in the same place himself several years ago and knew not to push Kyle. He had to make his own choices. Kyle had to lead.
Dustin’s eyes closed to focus entirely on the touches against his skin. He felt the warmth of the shower, he felt the droplets of water run down his nose and flutter off when caught in gasping breaths, and he felt the closeness, heat, and hardness of Kyle.
The war within Kyle was finally decided with the gentle thrusting of his groin against Dustin’s buttocks. Gently, so as to not spook the jock, Dustin rotated his hips in time, angling the movements to bring the rigid shaft sliding across his hole, satiating his anal desires at least a modicum. He moaned and Kyle pressed harder against him.
Dustin’s hand quickly gripped his own cock and slid up and down, flicking his fingertips over and around his head with each thrust. Thick beads of precum slicked his fingers and dick, creating a smoother motion. His cock tingled and throbbed, so close already. He dropped his hand—he didn’t want to blow his load so soon.
Dustin couldn’t take any more of this back-to-front frottage. He longed to gaze into Kyle’s eyes, to caress him, to hold him, to suck him... All worries of scaring him off were lost amidst the miasma of his sexual desires. He eased out of one of Kyle’s grinding thrusts and turned around.
Kyle’s hands dropped to his side. He looked lost and unsure. Dustin reached low and wrapped his hand around Kyle’s wet penis and stroked him back and forth. Kyle’s eyelids fluttered with the touch, but his unsettled hands still looked like he was all too conscious of his awkwardness. Dustin guided Kyle’s hand up to Dustin’s chest and ran his fingers over his nipple, pinching lightly. Dustin let out a guttural groan as Kyle’s fingers explored, massaging and teasing Dustin’s chest.
Dustin stared at Kyle’s eyes until he looked up, then they locked onto each other. He tried to read the thoughts behind them, to figure out what Kyle thought, how far he would go. Lust in Kyle’s eyes, hunger...
He finally decided to just go for it—to leap in and do what he’d been longing to do since he met Kyle a week ago in a smelly washroom.
With hot water falling upon them and running down their smooth bodies, Dustin closed his eyes and leaned forward. He searched with his lips until he found Kyle’s.
Kyle’s fingers froze in place over Dustin’s nipples, and he recognized a clear warning sign Kyle wasn’t ready for this, but to back down now would only make things more awkward. He’d gone for it, he’d taken the risk, and now he had to follow through.
He tasted Kyle’s lower lip, the one he always chewed on. His upper lip brushed against the teeth in Kyle’s slightly opened mouth.
Kyle didn’t respond. Dustin could only take this so far. He opened his eyes and backed away a few inches, carefully guarding his expression, trying to appear as if his world hadn’t just crashed down around him.
Kyle’s fingers slipped down from their perch on Dustin’s chest, falling back to their place at his side. Dustin held Kyle’s penis firmly in his grip, still hard and throbbing. Despite his facial expression, at least part of him enjoyed the kiss.
“I...I...” Kyle struggled to get some words out.
Dustin lowered his head, trying to look seductive. “You what?”
The battle resumed in Kyle’s head—a struggle between what he wanted and what he thought he should want.
“I...I can’t do this.”
Dustin couldn’t hide his crushed feelings. His face fell and he dropped his hand from Kyle’s dick. Kyle’s face turned beet red.
“It’s okay,” Dustin said. “I don’t want to push you anywhere you don’t want to go.”