My ex's brother said he'd always wanted to try it.
I didn't come back to this gym to prove a point.
I came back because I had a twelve-month membership, it cost me six hundred bucks, and I wasn't about to let a breakup steal my gains. Yeah, maybe it happened to be his brother's gym but whatever. I wasn't gonna stop training legs just because my ex's brother owned the gym and there were high chances of my ex being here. He'd get over it.
It was late, around 11PM and the place was still bumping with that sharp tang of sweat, rubber mats, and pre-workout farts. "Eye of the Tiger" was blasting. Of course. Some things never change.
I kept my hoodie on as I walked in. Didn't want to be recognized. Too late. The guy at the front desk looked up, blinked, and smirked like he remembered exactly who I was, and who I used to show up with. It's like the news had travelled to him.
Didn't matter. I nodded, scanned in, and kept walking.
The main floor was mostly empty. Same racks, same bros, same girls with glute bands doing kickbacks, though they looked like they were wrapping up for the night. It was probably past closing, but I figured Drew would make an exception. I dropped my bag near the squat rack and started stretching, trying not to think about the last time I was here with Jason; spotting each other, laughing between sets, making out like idiots in the locker room.
I moved through warmups, hip thrusts first. Then calf raises. Bulgarian split squats. I could feel my ass already starting to ache, which was the point.
That's when I heard it. A voice I hadn't heard in months.
"What, you back to suck off my brother in the gym showers, or what?"
I froze.
I turned my head, and there he was: Drew.
His arms were crossed, forearms thick and tan. He wore a sleeveless black tee stretched over broad pecs, black joggers slung low on his hips, and his backwards cap made him look every inch the hot asshole he'd always been. Thirty-one, built like a fighter, with this five o'clock shadow and a vein that ran down his bicep like he bench-pressed trucks for fun.
I laughed under my breath, pulling my earbud out.
"Still a dick, huh?" I said.
He grinned and walked up, towel over one shoulder, a shaker bottle in hand. I forgot how tall he was until he got close. The dude towered.
"I told you guys not to do that shit here," he said, chuckling. "Locker room's not your little gay playground, man."
"Well, you'll be happy to know we broke up."
He blinked. "Wait. For real?"
"Yep."
"Shit," he said. "I thought you two were tight."
"Don't wanna talk about it," I muttered, grabbing a plate and sliding it on the barbell.
He raised his hands like I'd just told him to back off a wild animal. "Damn, alright. Chill. Say less."
I laid back down for another round of thrusts, pretending he wasn't standing there still watching me.
"Leg day, huh?" he said after a second.
"Every day," I replied, breath catching as I pushed through a heavy rep.
"Yeah, I can see that," he muttered. "Still got the glutes."
I rolled my eyes, but I didn't stop. If he wanted to watch, fine. I wasn't gonna let some bro jokes ruin my day. I'd survived Jason. I could survive this.
A few sets later, I moved to the rack to start barbell squats. Set up my stance. Loaded the bar. Got into position.
That's when I felt it; slap.
His hand. On my ass.
"Let me spot you, bro," he said like it was nothing. "You need to go deeper. Come on."
"You just slapped my ass."
"It's encouragement," he smirked. "Up, up, let's go."
I squatted. He stepped behind me; close.
"One more rep," he said. "C'mon. Nice and low."
I dropped again. His hands hovered near my hips. I could feel his breath on my neck, the heat of his chest behind me.
"You always this helpful with gym members?" I muttered.
"Nah," he said. "Just the ones with fat asses."
I laughed, shaking my head. "Shut up, Drew. Just spot me properly"
He moved closer. I swear I could feel the curve of his pecs brush my upper back, his thighs line up with mine. The bar felt heavier with him that close, like gravity had shifted just to mess with me.
But I didn't pull away.
Hell, I didn't care. Drew was fucking hot. And straight as an arrow. It was probably just him being hands-on. Dude probably didn't even think about it.
I squatted again, trying to focus on my form. He didn't move back. His body stayed pressed to mine. I went again. He leaned in. His hands dropped to my waist, guiding me.
And that's when I felt it.
His Hard and Thick Cock.
Pressed right up against my ass.
I paused.
The bar stayed on my shoulders, my breath caught halfway out of my chest. I racked it quickly, the clang of metal echoing too loud in my ears.
I turned around, heart thudding.
Drew took a half-step back, eyes flicking up like nothing had happened. But I'd felt it.
That wasn't nothing.
I wiped my hands on my shorts and looked at him straight.
"Bro," I said, low and even, "are you hard right now?"