by Jeff Erno
Shaking, he closed his eyes, and Benjy pressed both palms around his face, framing it as he kissed him passionately. Goddammit! Why’d he have to ruin everything by busting his nut like that? He kissed Benjy and pulled back. “Fuck,” he whispered.
“Oh my God, Ollie, that was fucking amazing.”
“I… uh… I made a mess.”
Benjy smiled. “What do you mean?”
“I got so excited.”
“You came? You came in your pants?”
Oliver felt about two inches tall. His face must have been fire-engine red. “Sorry.”
“Oh my God, Ollie. That is so hot!” Benjy wrapped his arms around Oliver’s neck and kissed him deeply. When he pulled back, his eyes glistened as he watched Oliver. “You want me to clean you up? I will….”
He shook his head and pushed himself up, staggering a bit as he got his bearings. After quickly turning away so Benjy didn’t get a good look at his wet spot, he stumbled toward the bathroom. “I’ll just take care of it best I can before it dries.”
“Wait!” Benjy jumped up from the loveseat, still stark naked. “I have a bathrobe you can wear. I’ll just throw your clothes in the wash real quick.”
Oliver stopped and turned back to Benjy. That would mean sitting around practically naked for an hour or so. And if the bathrobe fit Benjy, surely it’d be too small for him. “You don’t have, like, any oversized basketball shorts or anything?”
Benjy giggled. “You mean for all the hot athletes I so frequently entertain?”
Oliver sighed and rolled his eyes.
“Go take a shower,” Benjy said authoritatively. “I’ll run over to your house and get you some clothes. I’ll be back before you’re done.”
“I have some shorts and a T-shirt in my car, in my gym bag.”
“Cool, I’ll run and grab them.”
Oliver pulled out his keys, then tossed them to Benjy. “Benjy… I’m sorry.”
“That’s like the lottery apologizing ’cause you only won a million dollars.” Benjy smiled. “You just gave me the most amazing experience of my life, and you’re saying you’re sorry?”
Oliver opened his mouth to explain, but Benjy gave him a warning look that said he’d be wise not to argue. He nodded and headed down the hall into the bathroom.
“I’m taking you out to dinner!” Benjy shouted. “Whether you like it or not!”
A COUPLE times during dinner, Benjy had hinted he wanted to return the favor, so to speak. He even went so far as to suggest Oliver go back to his apartment after eating, but Oliver wasn’t ready. As much as he’d loved giving Benjy head, he couldn’t imagine taking his clothes off in front of his lover. He couldn’t bring himself to even conceptualize the image of Benjy staring at his naked body.
When he dropped Benjy off, they kissed in the car, and Oliver begged off the invitation, stating he really was now tired. He had to get up earlier the next morning and begin his workout. Benjy offered to join him, and Oliver once more declined. “Eventually, yes. But just wait. I have to spend the first few days working with my trainer. Once I get onto a routine, we can go together.”
“Cool.” Benjy grinned wickedly, as if he’d hatched an evil plan. “Hey, what if I blew you right here, right here in the parking lot, in your car?”
Oliver laughed. “Very funny.”
Benjy slid his hand onto Oliver’s thigh. “I’m not joking.”
Oliver reached down and grabbed Benjy’s wrist. “I don’t think so… not tonight.”
“But I still owe you….”
Oliver sighed and shook his head slightly. “You don’t owe me, Benjy. What happened between us was… well, it was the most amazing experience I’ve ever had. You saw how excited I got.”
“But I want to please you like you pleased me.”
“Honestly? You probably pleased me more. Benjy, you’re the very first guy I’ve ever been with.”
Benjy smiled, and Oliver could see the twinkle in his eye as the dashboard lights illuminated his face.
“You’re gonna make me cry.”
“I’ve been fat and disgusting my whole life. Nobody’s ever wanted to be with me, and… well, I haven’t really wanted to be with anyone either. I’ve never wanted other people to see me.”
“Ollie, you told me tonight you’re two seventy. For a guy your height, that’s hardly even fat! Why can’t you see yourself the way other people see you? Sure, you’ve got a bigger build, but I love guys who are bigger. If you only knew how much you turn me on….”
“Just give me a few weeks, okay? With this rigorous workout schedule, it hopefully won’t be long till I start putting on some muscle and losing some flab.”
This time Benjy sighed. He ghosted his fingertips up Oliver’s arm. “Please don’t tell me this means you expect me to wait weeks before I can blow you, or before you… ya know.”
Oliver wasn’t even about to let his mind go there. He took hold of Benjy’s hand, mainly to stop him from tickling his arm, but also so he could capture his full attention. “Benjy, what if I tried to force you to be in situations you knew you couldn’t handle?”
“What do you mean?”
“You have anxiety, right? What if I said ‘Tough shit’ and just tried to force you to face your fears and do things you were nowhere near ready to do?”
“I’d freak. I’d have a meltdown, an anxiety attack.”
“So please don’t ask me to do shit I’m not ready for.”
Benjy stared at him, mouth agape. Slowly he nodded, then squeezed Oliver’s hand. “Baby, I’m sorry. You’re right. Please believe me, though. I didn’t mean it that way. I didn’t mean to pressure you into anything.”
“I know. I totally get it.” Oliver smiled at him and leaned in to kiss him softly on the lips. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered. “I get you want to make love, and it’s a lot for me to ask, making you wait.”
“No. No, Oliver. It’s not, and I promise I’ll never pressure you again. But please understand, the offer is always open. Whenever you’re ready, I’ll be waiting.”
A single teardrop from each eye streamed down his cheeks. “Thank you.”
They kissed good night.
Chapter Nine
OLIVER DIDN’T normally roll out of bed till around seven, but he got up early that Tuesday, slapping the alarm clock when it buzzed at 6:00 a.m. After stumbling to the kitchen, he slid a mug into his Keurig and popped in a K-cup, not even bothering to check the flavor. He’d purchased a variety pack a few weeks ago—not a big coffee drinker himself—because Benjy liked it. He rubbed his eyes as he waited for the brew cycle to complete, then glanced around his kitchen.
Without question, his housekeeping skills sucked. How did a single person manage to accumulate so much clutter? Perhaps the biggest difference between Benjy and him when it came to tidiness was lifestyle. Benjy had a place for everything, and he painstakingly kept everything in its place. Oliver, on the other hand, left everything out in the open. Wasn’t that also a metaphor of their lives?
All of Benjy’s problems remained bottled up inside. You’d never know by looking at him that he battled his own demons on a daily basis. But in Oliver’s case, everyone could see he was fat. He maintained no facade, had no false pretenses. Oliver was who he was… for the most part.
He’d done some online research and found it odd his trainer planned to work him every day. Most trainers suggested a day of rest between every workout. Maybe Adam was just a diehard, and if that was the case, it wouldn’t surprise Oliver. The man seemed extremely dedicated, and he couldn’t deny Adam knew his craft well. Just look at him. Not only did he possess the body of a god himself, but he’d also transformed Dr. Brad into a soap opera star.
He removed the fat-free nondairy creamer from the fridge and poured some into his coffee cup. As he pulled out the silverware drawer to find it void of clean spoons, he shrugged and grabbed a butter knife, which he then used to stir his coffee.
For some strange reas
on, his life seemed so foggy. At this time of the morning, he felt almost as if he was still asleep, dreaming. A few months ago, he’d have never imagined getting up at the crack of dawn to exercise. He sipped the coffee, savoring the taste. Vanilla something-or-other.
He’d already laid out his work clothes, had them folded neatly on the dresser. He’d take them with him, in his gym bag, and shower after his workout. From there he’d head to work. Though officially scheduled nine-to-five, his hours were somewhat flexible. Neither he nor Benjy punched a clock, and if they arrived a few minutes late, they could work over or shave their lunch to make up the time. The company was more concerned with overall productivity than time clocks.
After washing his face, shaving, and brushing his teeth, he slipped into his shorts and oversized tee. He took a moment to examine his reflection in the mirror, nearly laughing at the imposter who stood before him. “Ollie, you’re not a jock.” He shook his head. He didn’t look the part, not even in his workout clothes. He’d never be like Brad or Adam, no matter how hard he worked at it. He styled his hair and tossed his toiletries into the duffel along with his change of clothes.
Surprisingly, the morning traffic seemed even heavier at this early hour. Did other people actually have jobs that started so much earlier than his? For all this time, he’d been proud of himself for managing to maintain such an early schedule. When he pulled into the lot of the gym to find it nearly empty, he heaved a sigh of relief. At least all the crazies were at work rather than working out. Only the real nutcases like him subjected themselves to such torture.
As he pushed through the front door, he immediately spotted Adam, who was already in the gym, using one of the machines. He took a few tentative steps closer, wondering if he should interrupt or just wait, but at that very moment, Adam finished his set and slid off the machine, panting and wiping his brow. He looked across the room, spotted Oliver, and smiled, heaving himself up from the bench. He bounded over to Oliver, as energetic as a three-year-old.
“Hey, big guy! You ready? Ready to get started?”
To Oliver’s surprise, Adam slapped one hand on his shoulder and with the other patted his flabby belly. Astonished by the uninvited touch, Oliver gawked at him and tried to smile. “I was wondering… um, you did say we were working out every day, right?”
Still grinning, Adam nodded. “Absolutely! But we’re just going to do cardio exercises on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and the weekends. We’ll alternate upper and lower body workouts on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays along with a shorter cardio workout.”
“Oh, okay.”
“That way you’re exercising every single day yet giving your muscle time to rest.”
“Should I put my stuff in a locker or something?”
“Yeah, man. Let me show you around. We’ll get you set up with a locker and then do the rundown on your first day of cardio.” With his hand on Oliver’s shoulder, he led him down a hallway and toward a staircase that presumably led to the locker room. All the while, he kept talking. “For a guy your age, we need to get your heartrate up to about two hundred BPM.”
“BPM?”
“Beats per minute. And you want to sustain that a minimum of twenty minutes.”
He wondered how fast his heart beat when he walked in circles around his garage. He’d certainly managed to work up a sweat every time, and he definitely had maintained the routine longer than twenty minutes.
As Adam led him into the locker room, he noticed a group of four guys on the far side of the room. They all glanced over at him but didn’t speak. Instead, they talked among themselves, laughing and smiling. Oliver looked away, directing his full attention to Adam.
“You’ll get to know everyone eventually,” Adam said dismissively. “Some of our diehard regulars.”
They looked the part with their sculpted, nearly perfect bodies. In fact, from Oliver’s perspective, they were perfect. As he opened his locker to store his personals, he overheard one of the others call his friend “bitch,” and then froze in his tracks when he distinctly identified the phrase “power bottom.” They were gay gym bunnies, the four of them. Of course he’d heard about them. He’d seen lots of evidence online and in magazines that they existed, but he’d never actually known one personally. They were the popular guys, the in-crowd, the young, hot-looking studs who got A-listed at all the cool clubs.
“Okay, are we ready?”
Oliver glanced back at Adam and nodded. “Sure.” He followed Adam out of the locker room and back up the steps into the gym.
“Let the games begin.”
“OLLIE, ARE you sure you’re all right?” Benjy stood over him, waiting for him to rise from his chair. It was after five, time to leave work, and Oliver couldn’t move.
“Oh, God. Every inch of my body… every fucking inch….”
“It hurts?” Benjy stared at him sympathetically, his face sad like a puppy dog.
“Ohh, you have no idea. No fucking idea. Some of the muscles in my body that hurt right now I previously didn’t know existed. How can my abs hurt? I didn’t know I even had abs.”
“You have abs.” Benjy smiled. “Trust me, I look at ’em all the time.”
“Benjy, don’t make jokes. It hurts too much to laugh.”
“Who’s joking? Let me come home with you. I’ll draw you a bath and give you a massage.”
Oliver thought about himself stripping naked in front of Benjy and immediately shook his head.
Benjy sighed dramatically. “I’m not taking no for an answer. You don’t have to take off your clothes in front of me, and I can even massage you through your shirt, if you insist.”
“Really?”
“And I’ll even fix you dinner.”
“You don’t have to. Benjy, I’m just sore, and it’s a good kind of sore. I’ll get used to it.”
“I just want to know how you’re supposed to go back tomorrow already. After that kind of workout, your body needs rest. Does this trainer even know what he’s doing?”
“Trust me, he knows.” Oliver groaned as he pushed himself up from his seat. He held on to the desk as the pain ripped through his calves. Even his calves hurt? “You should see what he looks like. He’s fucking sex on legs, absolutely perfect. I can’t even believe he’s my trainer.”
“Well, I don’t care what he looks like.” Benjy sidled up to him, wrapping his arm around Oliver’s back. “You can lean on me if it helps.”
Oliver laughed, then grimaced. “If I fall on you, you’ll be dead. Squashed flatter than a pancake.”
“Don’t flatter yourself.” Benjy tsked. “I know you’re tough, but I’m not some kind of wuss, ya know.”
“I didn’t mean it that way.”
“And quit moaning and complaining all the time about how fat and unattractive you are. You’re neither. To me, you’re hotter than any fucking gym trainer. You know, when you go on about him being so hot, it’s kind of insulting.”
Seriously? Were they really having this conversation? “I didn’t even say anything about you, Benjy. You’re hot too. You’re way hot, but in a totally different way.”
“The nonsexy way?” He placed his hand on his hip, stepping away from Oliver for a moment.
“No, my trainer is nonsexy hot. You are sexy hot. Hotter than a fucking two-dollar pistol.”
Benjy’s mouth dropped open as he stared in astonishment, and then he smiled. “Ollie, that’s one of the nicest things you’ve ever said to me.” He slid back beside him and gave him a partial hug. As he did so, his fingers dug into Oliver’s tender sides and Oliver groaned. “Oh… sorry.”
AS HE lay back in the sudsy water of the tub, Oliver marveled at the way Benjy had doted on him. He had stopped on the way home to pick up Chinese takeout and met Oliver back at his house. As soon as he entered the door, he’d headed straight for the bathroom, where he drew Oliver’s bath.
“Go on, relax for a few minutes. I’ll tidy up and keep this food warm. We can eat when you’re done.”
/> As Oliver closed his eyes, he allowed himself to sink down, and the steamy water soothed his aching muscles. Obviously, it would get better. Guys who worked out all the time weren’t in constant pain. At least he didn’t think they were. If so, they really had some incredibly high pain-tolerance levels.
He recalled how Adam’s entire demeanor had changed once they got into the gym and began their workout. He almost instantaneously became a sadistic drill sergeant. He was good at it, though, pushing Oliver to his limit and beyond. Surprisingly they had used very little equipment. The cardio, Adam had said, was not about building muscle. They didn’t need the resistance machines or free weights, although they’d incorporated dumbbells into one of the routines.
Tomorrow they’d start on the upper-body workout. Oliver cringed just thinking about it. His midsection already ached from his half-assed attempts at performing crunches. Adam hadn’t mocked him, though. He’d assured Oliver that he’d done as well or better than most beginners. “Just wait. A month from now, you’ll be doing a hundred crunches and will barely break a sweat.” Oliver didn’t quite believe the hyperbole, but offered an obligatory nod.
Other than obey orders, pretty much the only thing Oliver did that morning was nod. He didn’t argue, rationalize, or complain. He simply obeyed. Adam seemed to like it, and when they finished their round of sets, he dismissed Oliver to the showers.
He’d initially felt good about the whole experience, and to begin with, he wasn’t even sore. As he walked out, the gay gym bunnies walked past him in the hall, talking loudly to one another. Three of the four turned to him as he walked by, staring with their plastic smiles plastered on their faces. Slowly they morphed to looks of amusement, disgust possibly. Oliver redirected his gaze, staring straight ahead, and marched past them. Cruelly, they crowded over to the far side of the hallway, affording him an extra-wide berth. God forbid he might brush against them with his huge, unfit body.