He spotted his mark near the squat racks: a hulking redhead with shoulders like a damn boulder. The guy was re-racking 315 like it was nothing, quads flexing under sweat-slick compression shorts. Marc licked his lips. *Next.*
"Spot me?" Marc asked, sliding up beside him. His voice came out deeper than he’d intended-another side effect, maybe. The redhead blinked at him, then at Marc’s outstretched hand.
The redhead hesitated-just a fraction of a second-before nodding and stepping behind the squat rack. Marc could practically smell the testosterone rolling off him, thick as the chalk dust clinging to his knuckles. Perfect. He loaded the bar with an extra twenty pounds, more than he’d ever attempted before, and ducked under the weight with practiced ease. The metal groaned against his shoulders, but his legs held firm. *Ryan’s strength,* he thought, flexing his fingers around the knurled grip. *Mine now.*
The first rep was smooth, controlled. The second, deeper. By the third, Marc let his form slip-just enough. His knees wobbled theatrically, his breath coming in sharp grunts. The redhead’s hands hovered close, ready to intervene. Marc exhaled sharply on the ascent, letting the bar tilt slightly to the left. The redhead reacted instantly, his thick fingers closing around the barbell to steady it-skin-to-skin contact, just for a second.
The second their skin touched, Marc felt it-the electric jolt of potential humming beneath the redhead's calloused palms. His fingers flexed around the barbell, feigning strain as he guided the weight back onto the rack with exaggerated effort. "Thanks, man," Marc panted, flashing a grin that didn't reach his eyes. "Could've been ugly."
The redhead-*Ethan*, according to his gym tag-nodded, wiping his hands on his shorts. "No sweat." His voice was gruff, his gaze lingering on Marc's chest just a beat too long. Marc didn't miss the way Ethan's throat bobbed when he stretched, the hem of his shirt riding up to reveal the hardened planes of his stomach. Marc's tongue darted out to wet his lips.
He waited until Ethan turned back to his own set before stripping off his tank, the fabric clinging briefly to his sweat-slick skin. The weight room mirror showed the full effect-broader shoulders, thicker arms, veins standing in sharp relief under the fluorescent lights. Ryan's stolen strength had settled nicely, but Marc could already feel the hunger creeping back in.
"You got a minute?" Marc asked, leaning against the squat rack with deliberate nonchalance. Ethan paused mid-lift, his biceps flexing under the weight. "Need a second opinion on my form."
Ethan's grip tightened on the barbell, his knuckles whitening for a fraction of a second before he reracked the weight with a metallic clang. He wiped his palms on his shorts, leaving damp streaks across the fabric. "Sure," he said, rolling his shoulders. The movement made his delts ripple under his tight tank-thick cords of muscle that hadn't escaped Marc's notice.
Marc turned, presenting his back under the pretense of adjusting his stance. He felt Ethan's gaze rake over him-the new breadth of his lats, the deeper cut of his obliques where Ryan's stolen definition now lived. The air between them thickened with something unspoken.
"Legs wider," Ethan murmured, stepping closer. His breath hit the back of Marc's neck, warm and damp with exertion. A calloused hand settled on Marc's hip, guiding his stance outward with deliberate pressure. Marc suppressed a shiver. Ethan's touch burned through the thin fabric of his shorts, his fingers pressing just shy of painful.
Marc bent into the squat, slow and controlled, feeling Ethan's palm slide to the small of his back. The contact lingered as Marc dipped lower, his hamstrings stretching tight.
"You're leaning forward on the ascent," Ethan muttered. His other hand came up to brace Marc's chest, fingers splaying wide over his pec. The touch was electric-proprietary, almost-and Marc's breath hitched. Ethan's thumbs brushed his nipples through the damp fabric, rough and accidental.
The barbell clattered against the rack as Marc abandoned his pretense of lifting entirely. He turned abruptly, catching Ethan’s wrist before the larger man could pull away. Ethan’s pulse hammered under Marc’s fingertips-fast, but not from exertion. Marc’s grin was all teeth. "You’re handsy for a spotter."
Ethan’s throat worked, his gaze scanning all of Marc’s body. The contact was deliberate-wanting to feel Marc’s veins snaking under skin. "Just helping," Ethan muttered, but his breath hitched when Marc stepped closer, crowding him against the rack.
Marc could smell the sweat on him-musky, thick with testosterone. He pressed his knee between Ethan’s thighs, grinning at the startled jerk of the redhead’s hips. "Help me with something else," Marc murmured, voice pitched low enough that the clanging weights around them drowned it out. His free hand slid up Ethan’s chest, thumb brushing a stiff nipple through damp fabric. "Locker room. Five minutes."
Ethan’s nostrils flared. For a heartbeat, Marc thought he’d bolt. Then the redhead’s fingers twitched against Marc’s waistband-hesitant, but not retreating. "Fuck," Ethan breathed, his pupils blown wide. Marc didn’t wait for more.
The showers were empty when Marc pushed through the door, steam curling around his ankles. He didn’t bother with the lights. The dimness suited him-hid the predatory edge to his movements as he palmed himself through his shorts. He could still feel Ethan’s callouses scraping his skin, the heat of his grip like a brand.
The shower door creaked open just as Marc's fingers dipped beneath his waistband. Ethan stood silhouetted in the dim light, his broad shoulders nearly brushing the frame. The redhead hesitated-just for a second-before stepping inside and letting the door hiss shut behind him.
Marc didn't move. He let the water fall down his chest, watching Ethan's gaze track the rivulets. "Changed your mind?" Marc asked, thumb hooking in his waistband. The elastic snapped back against damp skin with a wet *thwap*.
Ethan's nostrils flared. His compression shorts were tented obscenely, the fabric straining over his bulge. "Fuck you," he muttered, but his hands were already pulling his shirt over his head-muscles flexing in a way Marc knew was deliberate.
Marc's grin was slow, predatory. He stepped forward, crowding Ethan against the tiled wall. The redhead's breath hitched when Marc's knee nudged between his thighs. "That's the idea," Marc murmured, dragging his nails down Ethan's chest.
Ethan shuddered, his hips jerking forward involuntarily. Marc caught his wrist before he could touch himself, pinning it to the wall with effortless strength.
Ethan's breath stuttered against Marc's lips-hot, uneven-as Marc's free hand slid down the redhead's torso, fingers tracing the dense ridges of his abs. "Big fucking arms," Marc murmured, squeezing Ethan's bicep hard enough to make him flinch. "But you've never been *taken* before, have you?"
The shower spray hissed against tile as Ethan swallowed audibly. His pulse jumped under Marc's grip, betraying him. Marc chuckled darkly, dragging his thumb over Ethan's nipple. "Thought so."
He released Ethan's wrist abruptly, turning to brace both palms against the wall. The pose stretched his back wide, water sluicing down the definition in his shoulders. "Touch me," Marc ordered, voice rough.
Ethan's hands hovered-calloused fingertips skimming Marc's lats before digging in greedily. Marc groaned as Ethan mapped his body, fingers catching on every new vein, every hardened swell of muscle. The redhead's breath hitched when he reached Marc's waistband, his thumbs hooking under the elastic.
Marc rolled his hips back, pressing his ass flush against Ethan's thickening cock. "Not there," he corrected, catching Ethan's wrist and guiding it lower. His fingers curled around Ethan's, forcing them between his own thighs. "*Here*."
Ethan's fingers twitched against Marc's inner thigh-calloused and hesitant-before Marc dragged them higher, pressing them roughly against his own hardening length through his shorts. The fabric was soaked, clinging obscenely to the outline of his cock. Ethan exhaled sharply, his grip tightening instinctively. Marc smirked over his shoulder. "Not shy now, are you?"
The redhead's jaw clenched, but his fingers didn't retreat. Instead, they curled tighter, squeezing Marc through the damp fabric with a roughness that made Marc's breath catch. Ethan's other hand slid around Marc's waist, palm flattening against his stomach-feeling the newly stolen definition there. Marc arched into the touch, grinding back against Ethan's cock. The redhead hissed, his hips jerking forward involuntarily.
Marc twisted suddenly, catching Ethan's wrist and shoving him backward into the shower wall. The tiles rattled under the impact as Marc crowded against him, his forearm pressing against Ethan's throat-just enough to make him swallow hard. "You wanna help?" Marc murmured, his free hand sliding down Ethan's chest, nails scraping over a peaked nipple. "Then *help*."
Ethan's breath hitched as Marc dropped to his knees, yanking the redhead's shorts down in one rough motion. His cock sprang free-thick and flushed, already leaking against his stomach. Marc didn't hesitate. He leaned in, dragging his tongue up the length of Ethan's shaft in one slow, filthy stroke. Ethan's hips jerked, his fingers tangling in Marc's hair-not pushing, not pulling. Just *holding*.
Marc grinned up at him before swallowing him down, throat flexing around Ethan's girth. The redhead's groan echoed off the tiles, his thighs trembling where Marc's hands pinned them to the wall. Marc worked him ruthlessly-no teasing, no mercy-just deep, wet sucks that had Ethan's fingers tightening in his hair with every pass.
Ethan's knees buckled as Marc took him deeper, his cockhead nudging the back of Marc's throat with a wet *pop*. The redhead's breath came in ragged gasps, his grip on Marc's hair bordering on painful-not that Marc minded. He hollowed his cheeks, sucking hard enough to make Ethan's hips stutter forward uncontrollably. Precome leaked from Ethan's tip, bitter and thick on Marc's tongue, and he swallowed it greedily.
When Ethan's thighs started trembling too violently, Marc pulled off with a filthy *smack*. "Not yet," he murmured, dragging his teeth along the underside of Ethan's cock just to watch him twitch. Marc stood slowly, his own erection straining against his shorts, and pressed Ethan harder into the wall. The redhead's chest heaved, his nipples pebbled under Marc's roaming hands.
Marc's fingers traced the dense ridges of Ethan's abs-*so much fucking muscle*-before sliding lower, tracing the crease of his thigh. "Turn around," Marc ordered, voice rough. Ethan hesitated, his throat working as he swallowed hard, but when Marc's thumb brushed his leaking tip, he obeyed with a shudder.
The redhead's back was a masterpiece-thick lats flaring under sweat-slick skin, shoulders broad enough to eclipse the tiles. Marc palmed Ethan's ass, squeezing hard enough to make him gasp. "Never taken a cock before, huh?" Marc murmured, pressing closer, his own length grinding between Ethan's cheeks.
Ethan's breath hitched when Marc's fingers traced his rim-dry, untouched. "Fuck-" Ethan started, but Marc silenced him with a sharp bite to his shoulder.
Ethan's entire body tensed when Marc's spit-slicked fingers circled his rim-dry at first, just teasing, then pressing inward with deliberate, unforgiving pressure. The redhead's knuckles whitened against the tile, his shoulders locking up as Marc worked a single digit into him, slow and relentless.
"Fucking-*tight*," Marc growled, twisting his wrist to spread Ethan wider. The shower spray hissed against their backs as Ethan shuddered, his hole clenching rhythmically around Marc's invading finger. Marc leaned in, his teeth scraping Ethan's shoulder blade. "Gonna have to loosen you up." He crooked his finger, dragging it against Ethan's inner walls, and the redhead jerked forward with a choked gasp.
Marc didn't let up. He added a second finger, stretching Ethan's rim obscenely wide, watching the way the muscle fluttered in protest. Ethan's breath came in ragged bursts, his thighs trembling violently as Marc scissored him open. Precome dripped steadily from Ethan's cock onto the tiles-thick, pearly drops that Marc swiped up with his free hand, smearing the moisture across Ethan's stretched hole.
"Look at you," Marc murmured, thrusting his fingers deeper, his own cock throbbing at the sight of Ethan's body yielding. The redhead's back muscles rippled under strain, sweat mixing with the shower spray as Marc worked him relentlessly. "Bet you could take me raw like this."
Ethan's groan was muffled against his forearm, but his hips pushed back instinctively, seeking more friction. Marc grinned, withdrawing his fingers abruptly-just to watch Ethan's hole gape around nothing, twitching greedily.
The shower spray hissed louder as Ethan braced against the tiles, his knuckles white where they gripped the grout. Marc spit into his palm, slicking himself with rough strokes-eyes locked on the way Ethan’s rim fluttered, still stretched wide from his fingers. "Relax," Marc murmured, though the command was anything but gentle. His cockhead pressed against Ethan’s entrance, blunt and unyielding, and the redhead’s breath stuttered.
Ethan tensed-instinctive, reflexive-but Marc didn’t pause. He shoved forward in one brutal thrust, sheathing himself to the hilt as Ethan’s back arched violently. The sound Ethan made was raw, shattered, his fingers scrambling against the tile for purchase. Marc groaned, his vision whiting out at the suffocating heat, the way Ethan’s body clenched around him like a vice. "Fuck," Marc gritted out, hips jerking forward involuntarily. "Tighter than I fucking thought."
Ethan’s thighs trembled, his breath coming in ragged gasps as Marc rocked into him-slow at first, then deeper, harder. The water sluiced between them, turning Ethan’s skin slick under Marc’s palms as he gripped the redhead’s hips hard enough to bruise. Ethan’s cock hung heavy between his legs, flushed and leaking untouched, but Marc ignored it-focused instead on the way Ethan’s hole fluttered around him with every retreat, clinging like it didn’t want to let go.
Marc leaned forward, his chest pressing against Ethan’s back, and bit down on the meat of the redhead’s shoulder. Ethan jerked, a broken noise tearing from his throat, and Marc grinned against his skin. "Feel that?" he murmured, grinding his hips in slow circles. Ethan’s hole spasmed around him, his body tensing in protest-but Marc didn’t stop. He dragged his cock almost all the way out, savoring the way Ethan’s rim stretched obscenely around him, then slammed back in with a wet *slap*.
Ethan’s knees buckled. Marc caught him by the waist, hauling him upright without breaking rhythm, his thrusts growing rougher, more erratic. The shower walls rattled with every snap of his hips, the sound drowned out by Ethan’s choked gasps. Marc’s fingers dug into Ethan’s hips, guiding him back onto his cock with bruising force, his own breath coming in sharp grunts.
Ethan's fingers clawed at the tile as Marc's thrusts turned punishing-no finesse, just raw, relentless power that drove the breath from his lungs with every snap of Marc's hips. The water turned lukewarm against their backs, but neither noticed-Marc was too focused on the way Ethan's body clenched around him, tight and hot and *perfect*, while Ethan's vision blurred with each brutal impact against his prostate. His cock dripped untouched, swaying heavily between his thighs with every thrust.
Marc's fingers tightened on Ethan's waist-his grip stronger now, broader fingers sinking deeper into Ethan's flesh-and he hauled the redhead back onto his cock with a growl. "Fuck, you take it *good*," Marc snarled, biting down on Ethan's trapezius as his hips stuttered forward. Ethan's knees trembled, his thighs slick with sweat and water, but Marc didn't slow-just fucked into him harder, deeper, until Ethan's hole burned with the stretch.
The first pulse hit like a shockwave-Marc's cock twitching violently inside Ethan, thick, hot ropes of cum flooding his guts with a force that made Ethan's stomach *round* slightly under the sudden influx. Marc groaned, his forehead pressing between Ethan's shoulder blades as his hips jerked erratically, unloading in deep, relentless spurts. Ethan's breath hitched, his hole fluttering around Marc's girth as if trying to coax out every last drop.
It didn't stop. Marc's orgasm rolled through him in waves, each one more intense than the last, his balls drawing up tight as he filled Ethan beyond capacity. Cum spilled around his cock where it was buried deep, leaking out in thick rivulets down Ethan's thighs, but most of it stayed *in*-Ethan's body greedily swallowing every pulse, his stomach swelling visibly under the sheer volume.
Marc's hips jerked forward one last time, pressing Ethan flush against the tile as his cock twitched deep inside him. A shudder ran through Marc's body-not just from the orgasm, but from the *pull* he felt deep in his gut. It was faint at first, like a slow siphon starting, then *blooming*-a sudden rush of warmth spreading from Ethan's body into his own.
The shower spray had gone cold by the time Marc finally pulled out, Ethan’s hole fluttering weakly around nothing, thick ropes of cum already dripping down his thighs. Ethan swayed against the tiles, his breath ragged, fingers still gripping the grout like it was the only thing keeping him upright. Marc watched him for a moment-the way his muscles trembled, the subtle hollowing of his biceps where they’d lost density-before turning off the water with a sharp twist.
Ethan didn’t protest when Marc stepped away, his body slack with exhaustion. His reflection in the fogged mirrors was blurred at the edges, his frame visibly softer, less defined. Marc, meanwhile, flexed his shoulders as he toweled off, admiring the new thickness of his delts in the hazy glass. The difference wasn’t drastic-just enough that Ethan’s tank top would hang looser tomorrow, while Marc’s shirts would strain across his back.
"You good?" Marc asked, though he already knew the answer. Ethan’s nod was sluggish, his eyelids heavy. Marc smirked and tossed the towel at him. It hit Ethan’s chest with a wet *thwap*, but he didn’t react. Just stared at the floor, his abs rising and falling unevenly. "Rest up," Marc added, stepping into his shorts with effortless grace. The fabric clung to his thighs now, tighter than before. "You’ll feel it in the morning."
The locker room was empty when Marc pushed through the door, his footsteps echoing off the concrete floors. His gym bag felt lighter on his shoulder-or maybe it was just the newfound ease in his muscles, the way his body moved with predatory efficiency. He dressed quickly, his hands lingering over the newly prominent veins in his forearms, the sharper cut of his obliques. The mirror confirmed it: his jawline harder, his neck thicker. Ethan’s stolen strength settled into him like it had always been there.
Marc left the gym and headed home. The lock clicked behind Marc with a hollow finality. His apartment smelled faintly of protein powder and stale sweat-the same as always-but the silence pressed against his eardrums in a way that felt unfamiliar. He stripped off his shirt, tossing it onto the floor as he passed the hallway mirror. His reflection stopped him mid-step. The stolen muscle was still there-shoulders broader, chest thicker-but the exaggerated vascularity from earlier had faded. Like a post-workout pump deflating overnight. Marc flexed, watching his biceps swell. Still bigger than yesterday. Still *better*. But not by enough.
The bed felt too large when he collapsed onto it, the sheets cool against his skin. He rolled onto his back, palming his cock absently. It twitched in his grip, still half-hard from the shower. From *Ethan*. Marc smirked into the darkness, imagining the redhead’s limp body slumped against the locker room tiles, his hole still leaking Marc’s cum. The thought should’ve been enough to get him off, but his hand stilled after a few lazy strokes. Something was missing, but he ended up drifting off to sleep.
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