The Locker Room

“Are you sure about this?”

Alex does little more than grunt and bite his lip as he pushes. He’s going slow, really trying to push his limits.

I’m a little worried; he’s never taken it this far before. I do my best not to get distracted, focusing on his face as it contorts.

He groans again as he digs his heels into the floor and it’s done.

“Are you okay?”

He grins through deep breaths. “Yeah. I think that’s a new record for me.”

I take his hand and help pull him up off his back. “Let’s rack these weights. Elliptical next?”

He laughed. “You and your cardio. You’re basically a desperate housewife.”

I grin. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

The gym is quiet today. I make my way over to the elliptical machines as Alex wipes down the bench.

Alex steps up to the machine beside me and holds out a pair of earbuds. “We got them mixed up.”

I grab my chest. “That was close! I can’t work out to death metal!”

He pushes my arm. “Like I can work out to bubblegum pop?”

We finish our workout without speaking, letting our respective music push us forward— as forward as you can go while running in place, at least.

We powered off the machines after the mile counter ticked over to 3.0.

I wave Alex away. “I’ll wipe them down. You go ahead.”

He nods and squeezes between two treadmills to head straight back to the locker room.

I grab a spray bottle and some paper towels sitting next to a nearby trashcan. Spritz, spritz, spritz, spritz. Screen, handle, handle.

The sanitizer has already soaked through the paper, dampening my hand. I pause for a moment to look around. No one’s looking at me. I sniff my hand.

It smells like my hand.

I wipe down the other machine and toss the paper towels before making my way back to the locker room.

I notice it’s quiet as I open the door. I call out to Alex before turning the corner to the main part of the room. “Do you think they just use water in the spr—”

There he is, wearing flip flops and a face mask. Nothing else. A line runs down his stomach, between his abs. It leads down to a clean-shaven area and then that thick—

“Dude!”

My eyes snap up to his for just a moment before I look away entirely. “Sorry,” I mumble sheepishly.

“I don’t care about that. Maybe be a little more subtle about it.”

I motion around the room. “There’s no one here.” I hear a slapping sound as he twists his hips back and forth and I can’t help but look out of the corner of my eye.

“At least finish your sentence.”

I shake my head. “Right! Spray bottles! Do you think they just use water? It doesn’t smell like alcohol.”

“It’s not alcohol based.” He turns his back to me before bending over to pick his jockstrap up from the floor. “It comes in gallon jugs and doesn’t smell.”

Such a cruel man. Cute little ass and I could almost see his—

“Can I ask you something?” He pulls his boxer briefs up.

I nod as I start changing.

“Do you look at other guys when they’re changing?”

I grin. “Are you jealous?”

He chuckles. “No. I’m just wondering if—”

I interrupt him waving a hand through the air. “Sometimes I see. I don’t look.”

“That makes sense.”

“Just for the record, you say the word, I won’t look there either. But I’m not all gay men, just like you aren’t all straight men. There are guys who will look and more, so be careful.”

He flexed his arm, the sleeve of his shirt stretching a bit. “I can take them.” He moved over and put his arm over my shoulder. “For both of us, if needed.”

I couldn’t help but grin. “Let’s go home.”