You're Kind of a Shitty Person

Ch 2. Picking Up Employment

Back in the present, Daniel was sitting in the lobby of a smaller-sized gym. At the front counter, Brad was chatting away with an equally built older man. On the wall behind the men, big blocky letters spelled out the name of the gym, "Training, Reach, and Progress." Daniel thought the name was stupid. On the way over, he was stuck in the passenger seat of Brad's Honda Civic. The leather seat was sticking against his exposed thighs and his crotch awkwardly rubbed against the tight nylon shorts.

Daniel hadn't been able to get back into his apartment, and even if he was he hadn't done laundry in a few weeks. Brad offered Daniel a pair of basketball shorts and a t-shirt, but both were too big. Daniel jumped at the chance to mock Brad, a continued theme throughout the previous night. But when Brad came out with the only pair of clothes that would fit his smaller neighbor, Daniel just froze. Brad swore no one would know they were woman's clothes, tactfully turning the Juicy logo away from Daniel. "Either way," continued Brad, "the gym will give you a uniform when starting."

Back at the gym, Daniel pulled at his tight-fitting halter top. The fuchsia "muscle tee" and mesh low-rise shorts formally belonged to Brad’s ex-girlfriend. From a distance, the outfit might pass as gender-neutral if not a little small. But whenever Daniel stood, sat, or walked the tank top would quickly ride up his midriff and expose the clear outline of his compressed bulge and constantly reforming wedgie.

While still conversing, Brad and the older employee turned to look where Daniel was seated. The beefy receptionist locked eyes with Daniel. Though the older man seemed to be smiling, Daniel couldn't help but feel intimidated. His energy wasn’t like Brad's. Both men were conventionally attractive and beyond the point of muscular, but Brad was just your average jock. The older man seemed more stern. His aura sat somewhere between a strict college professor and a biker ready for a bar fight. Daniel thought he’d probably have an older name, something masculine. Gus might fit, but the name seemed too simple, Too "blue collar." The man had an air of superiority to him. The kind of superiority only found in snobby academic circles. His name would likely embody the energy of an overbearing tennis instructor… Something like… Chris or… Ralph.

Ralph whispered something to Brad causing both men to laugh. It was probably something about sports. Daniel knew the only thing meat-heads joked about were sports, beer, or women. Still, Ralph hadn't broken eye contact with Daniel while whispering. "Fucking creepy," Daniel thought, turning to Brad to signal his annoyance. How long were they going to stand there and talk? He felt like a child waiting for his parent to finish a business transaction. Brad's smiled and playfully beckoned Daniel over with a nod.

Rolling his eyes, Daniel stood from his seat and approached the counter. Within his first two steps, the women's track shorts had already begun wedging themselves up Daniel's crack. The uncomfortable tug between his cheeks reminded him that these were not his normal clothes. He immediately slowed his pace and glanced back. No one was staring at his ass, but Daniel could see his reflection in the window behind him. The small man blushed at the sight of his surprisingly plump butt cheeks completely enveloping the middle of the mesh shorts. Where the Juicy logo once sat, Daniel's ass now read "J-UC-Y." He turn back around, trying to forget the vowel fully entombed between his meaty butt. This was not his element. He was starting at a disadvantage, but Daniel would not be emasculated.

Daniel reached the counter, trying to position his ass away from the men in front of him and the window behind him. He stood next to Brad, making sure to keep some distance. Behind the counter, Ralphs sat comfortably in an office chair. While the man was seated, it was impossible to fully gauge his size. Brad placed an arm around Daniel’s shoulder pulling him closer to the counter and himself. “This lil’ guy here is Daniel,” Brad said, grinning down at the boyish man under his arm. For a second, Daniel thought he heard a tinge of pride behind Brad’s voice. Daniel tried to pull away, unsuccessfully.

“Don’t you dare call me little,” Daniel said trying to assert dominance.

Brad pulled Daniel in front of him, switching from a casual embrace to a full-on reverse bear hug. “But it's true. You’re so small, like the size of a girl.” Brad whispered innocently in his ear. Daniel hadn’t expected Brad to call his bluff. At least not like this. He could deal with Anger, even exploit it. He took pride in his online ability to piss people off. But what was with this aggressive affection? Was this a game? Daniel didn't think Brad was smart enough for mind games, and he definitely didn't seem gay. “Don't be mad at me Dannie~, it’s cute that you're so short.” Brad teased, this time a bit louder.

“…Dannie!?” Daniel just glared up at Brad's smiling face. “I am not- NOR HAVE I EVER BEEN- little.” Brad’s smile slowly turned into a grin, as his hug tightened around Daniel’s arms and torso. In one swift motion, the smaller man was hovering a foot off the ground. Brad leaned forward, stabilizing Daniel between the desk and his two large arms. Even with the extra foot, Brad towered over him.

Brad winked down at Daniel. “There, problem solved.” The smaller boy was rapidly losing control of the situation. Daniel couldn't tell if his neighbor was deliberately pressing his buttons or just that stupid. He wasn't sure which possibility made him angrier. Did this bulked-out frat boy really think Daniel was some beta male soy boy cuck? Daniel was about to serve Brad the verbal smackdown of a lifetime when he heard Ralph chuckle. Daniel froze, remembering they weren't alone. He had been so worked up over Brad that he completely forgot about the man sitting a few feet in front of him.

Daniel started struggling harder, trying to get out of Brad’s arms and back onto the ground. His cheeks were glowing, halfway between anger and embarrassment. If it was just Brad, Daniel might have been able to regain some control of the situation. But he was being toyed with in front of an audience, and he couldn't even cover his face. Brad leaned his body into Daniel, further sandwiching the tiny man between the countertop and Brad’s round pecs. Daniel had never felt his heart beat so fast. His body felt like it was overheating as he desperately tried to arch and wriggle out of Ralph's immediate line of sight.

He didn't even care that his shorts were fully wedged up his ass cheeks. He could feel Brad's crotch pressing against his back, forcing his own crotch forward onto the countertop. Through the mesh of his shorts, he felt the cold surface of the granite against his balls. Daniel tried not to look at Ralph, whose eye-line was directly parallel with his flaccid dick. Ralph looked the boy up and down landing briefly on the moose-knuckle straining against its sweaty cage. Daniel tried to reposition himself to hide the clear outline of his bulge, but the height of the counter seemed deliberately designed to show off his compressed package. To his horror, Daniel started to feel his tight shorts getting tighter. He never got to use the batteries he bought; it had been weeks since he last masturbated. Daniel immediately stabbed struggling, shifting his full focus onto not getting hard.

Ralph chuckled, looking up at Daniel’s bright red face. “‘I think ‘little’ seems appropriate.” Something about the man's burly laugh sent a wave of panic through Daniel’s body down to his dick. Brad released Daniel from his arms, slowly sliding the smaller man down the front of the desk and onto his feet. “Dannie is it?” Ralph asked, standing from his seat. His voice was lower than Daniel expected, yet the older man loomed above him. Ralph held out a massive arm and said, “Looks like you'll be training under my supervision. I look forward to seeing what you have to offer.” Daniel hesitated unsure of what emotion to feel. He looked at Brad who playfully ruffled his neighbor’s hair. He looked back at Ralph, questioning exactly what he was getting into.

Daniel was bad at following directions and was annoyed by the prospect of working for a bunch of sweaty jocks. He just needed to stay employed long enough to pay rent. It didn’t mean he had to be friendly or nice. It's not like they could make him. Many managers had tried and failed before. Plus Daniel knew that rising actors and artists were the types to frequent the gym. There was bound to be some gullible Steve Rogers wannabe that Daniel could exploit for his connections. Still, he couldn't fully read Ralph and wasn't sure when or if Brad was fucking with him.

Trying to regain his composure, Daniel tentatively grabbed the hand in front of him. He couldn't help feeling like a guilty 13-year-old standing in front of his father.

“The things I do for fame…”