Prompt Rides - 14. Gym Partners

“Hey, dude…” I heard the guy, and automatically looked up, from the forty-five pound dumbbell I was doing curls with. He had to be talking to me, there were but a handful of people in the gym at this time, and no one else near us. After quitting my job at the beginning of 2013, I’d started coming mid-morning; after the early crowd was gone, and before the lunch-timers arrived. I liked having the place to myself.

“Yeah, bud?” The man had a friendly smile and a mass of dark curls on top of his head. Those were the first two things I noticed about him. He was a good-looking guy, without that too-many-facials-and-too-much-moisturizer look, so common amongst the Chelsea boys.

“Could you give me a spot when you get done there?” He pointed at a sixty-five pounder next to him, motioning to indicate his intent, to do one armed shoulder presses with it. Considering the size of his guns, shoulders, and lats, he probably could rip out a dozen of them without a struggle.

“Sure thing, just one more set.” I turned back to look at my bicep, as I brought up the weight and slowly lowered it. I had a nice pump going, which felt and looked really good. By now, in late February, I recognized most of the regulars at this time of day; Curly didn’t look familiar. “Are you new here?” I asked, as I finished my set and racked the dumbbell.

“Kinda… I’m taking care of a buddy who slipped on a patch of ice and broke a leg, he got me a visitor’s pass for the week. I left him at home, eating Captain Crunch, watching CNN, while wearing his blue fuzzy slippers and matching robe. I felt love handles growing just from looking at him, and decided I needed a little exercise.” As I positioned myself behind him, I took a look at his body, on the wall mirror facing us. The smile and the curls were still there, but now I noticed his torso. Encased in a tight stretch shirt, you could see the ridges of his abs. Everyone talks about the mythical eight pack, but this guy was the real deal. Fuck!

“That’s a pretty picture you paint,” I chuckled. “Ready when you are, bud.” Our eyes met in the mirror as I spoke, and my gaydar started pinging. Not that much of a stretch, considering we were at a gym, in the gayborhood, and neither one of us had a beer belly. We were kindred souls.

“I know, right? Okay, four sets of twelve reps with each arm; sixty seconds rest between sets.” Double fuck! He spoke of it as if he was ordering a salt bagel at the deli―casual as can be. Perfect form and hardly broke a sweat; the guy was a machine. Those abs were a good clue, and the chest requiring its own postal code were the confirmation, the dude was serious about his body.

“Oh man, I’m hurting just from watching. You compete?” He would definitely do well in a bodybuilding show, great size and good definition all over.

“Nah, can’t bother with the shaving, tanning, or dieting right before, to get cut up. I just like to feel good, and look good for the boys.” He wiggled his eyebrows at me, smiled again and went to place the dumbbell on the rack.

“Well, this boy here thinks you look pretty darn good!” Damn, did I just really say that? I’m such a ho. But I gotta admit, the guy’s a stud.

“You do, eh? That’s good to hear. What’s your name anyway? I’m Apollo.” I started laughing when he told me his name. “What’s so funny, dude?”

“Your name is perfect. I was just thinking you look like a Greek statue. I’m Colt, nice to meetcha, Apollo.”

“Same here, Colt. Hey, I’m in the mood for a steak sandwich. Wanna hit the showers and go to lunch with me? My treat.”

“I like the lunch part, but I live two blocks from here so I just go shower at home. How ‘bout you come home with me, we shower and then we go grab a bite?”

“Are you trying to lure me to your place so you can take advantage of me, Colt?”

“Yessir, I certainly am.”

“Good, a workout always leaves me hungry and horny. Just so you know, I’m easy and I’m big.”

“Great! I’m easy too, and I wear a Magnum raincoat.”