The alarm clock woke Eric from a pleasant dream, where Kyle and him were driving, the windows down, listening to music, hands locked. Not a single care in the world but what was between them. The destination wasn’t clear, just that they were together.
His mind, still hazy from the dream, fought to cling to the details before they slipped away. Kyle smiling, his hair blowing around, singing along to a cheesy pop song with glee, and the sense that Eric wasn’t on his own anymore.
The image of Kyle’s genuine smile lingered as he opened his eyes with a sigh. He was in his bed, alone.
He pushed the blanket off and groaned, his muscles still sore, angry at him from his last workout with Kyle. It had improved since yesterday, when just rolling out of bed made his arms feel like spaghetti. He sat up, staying at the edge of the mattress for a few seconds, wondering if he should call in dead.
But then he remembered Kyle's grin, his voice promising, “It gets slightly less terrible.” And Eric smiled, to his surprise. His muscles might be protesting, but his heart felt lighter than it had in… years, he realized.
He decided that meeting Kyle again for their Friday workout was worth the extra pain. Eric hauled himself out of bed, and started the accelerated version of his morning routine with a renewed sense of purpose.
After a quick shower, he retrieved the new workout clothes he had purchased and washed the day before. They were less baggy, more fitted, as if Kyle made him want to stop hiding. Eric thought a new outfit might be a good way to go about it.
He packed his gym bag carefully. After a simple smoothie and a quick stare down in the mirror to calm his nerves, he was ready to go.
By the time he walked into the gym, a few minutes before eight, Eric had convinced himself not to be weird. He had a plan: act normal, don't stare and try not to sound like a fanboy. Oh, and avoid passing out.
*****
Kyle was already there, stretching by the front desk. He looked up and waved with that easy, effortless smile that made Eric’s heart flutter.
The hunk was wearing his signature green shorts, revealing strong hairy legs, and a tight black tank top that accentuated how fit he was. But today, his dark hair was neatly combed back, giving him a sophisticated air that stood out from his usual tousled look. Eric let out a breath.
“Well well well. Would you look at that!” Kyle teased as he stood. “I didn’t even need to hunt you down.”
“My coworkers are thankful”, Eric replied, grinning.
"New clothes too!" Kyle looked him up and down, slowly. “It fits well.”
Eric beamed. “And I see you tried to tame that mane”, he pointed to Kyle’s new hairdo.
“Well, you’re trying to improve yourself, so I thought it was only fair to try and do the same, and the hair was the only thing left!” the hunk joked.
“It looks good on you.” He noticed, pleased with himself, that Kyle blushed slightly, his usual casual demeanor faltering.
Kyle’s shoulder bumped into his. It was a light, playful touch filled with an unspoken connection between them.
They moved towards the weights, and started without any other comment. Their second session was harder, mostly because he was already sore. Kyle kept pushing him to complete just one more rep, just one more set. Eric surprised himself by keeping up.
Kyle was just as patient, just as encouraging, offering tips and the occasional clap on the back that lingered a little longer than strictly necessary. Eric tried not to read into it, but it was getting increasingly difficult.
By the end of the workout, he was drenched in sweat but genuinely proud. As they wrapped up their session, Kyle handed Eric his bottle of water.
“Nice work today. You didn’t even curse me out once!”
Eric laughed breathlessly. “I said them all internally.”
“Fair.” Kyle smirked.
Looking at his phone, Eric started to gather his things. “Welp. It’s that time again.”
Kyle hesitated. “Hey, my friends and I usually hang out on Friday nights. Chill spot, drinks, talking about anything but squats. You’re totally welcome to join if you want.”
Eric blinked. He could already feel the anxiety creeping in, whispering that he didn’t belong, that they'd laugh at him. But then Kyle raised an eyebrow, like he was daring him to say no.
"Yeah. Yeah, okay. I’d like that."
“Cool,” Kyle said, already pulling out his phone. “I’ll text you the address. No pressure, but we’d be happy to have you.”
*****
The place Kyle had picked was surprisingly laid-back: a pub with a big patio, soft string lights overhead and the low hum of Friday night energy. Eric arrived exactly on time, which for him was practically late.
The pub was busy, but he spotted them right away. Kyle was already sitting with his three friends at a big round table near the back. Eric took a breath, squared his shoulders, and walked over.
"Hey! You made it," Kyle said, standing to greet him. He was wearing a t-shirt with a band logo Eric had never heard of and casual jeans that molded his thick thighs. He looked like the perfect boy next door — if the neighbor was a gym-sculpted heartthrob.
Eric took a breath and offered a nervous wave to the group. "Hi."
Kyle clapped a hand on his shoulder. "Guys, you remember Eric. He survived my Wednesday leg day."
There were a few snorts of recognition.
Mike, the bald man built like a tank, gave a short nod and half a smile "Takes guts."
Leon leaned over, blonde hair falling over his face, flashing a goofy grin. "We were actually placing bets on whether you'd ghost. And I won!"
Armand sipped his drink, his eyes locked onto Kyle. “You’ve always liked a project.”
Eric suddenly became aware of every inch of his body: how his shirt clung to him, how his stomach stuck out even more when he sat. The contrast between his round body and their muscular frames was glaring to anybody looking over at their group. He resisted the urge to shrink into his chair.
But Kyle leaned in close. "Drink? First one's on me."
"Uh, sure. Thank you. Something light."
As Kyle headed to the bar, Leon immediately leaned forward. "So! You survived Kyle's legendary leg day. Respect."
Eric chuckled. "Barely. I thought about faking a leg injury halfway through."
Mike grunted a laugh. "Smart. Should’ve faked two."
Leon chuckled. "Kyle once made me do lunges up a hill. A hill! I still don't trust sidewalks."
Eric smiled. Even Armand’s lips curled up, though the smile didn't quite reach his eyes.
“Kyle has a habit of collecting strays, doesn't he?" Armand added, swirling his drink, his eyes holding a cold glint as they met Eric's. "But some connections are simply deeper. More... permanent."
Eric gulped, the disdain in Armand's eyes and the subtle insult of his words twisting in his gut.
He was still trying to process what Armand had really insinuated when Kyle returned, unaware of the veiled jab. He slid a beer in front of Eric.
"Here you go, something light," he said, his smile genuine and distracting.
Before Eric could even form a response, Leon, oblivious to the undercurrents, launched into a wild tale about getting stuck in a leg press machine, his voice loud and animated. The sheer absurdity of Leon's story, combined with Kyle's easy presence beside him, slowly began to chip away at Eric's unease.
As the evening went on, lifted by the laughter and the casual chatter, Eric started to relax, the sting of Armand's words fading into the background.
Leon loved regaling new ears with workout horror stories. Eric, still sore, listened intently to the outlandish scenarios Leon described, soon finding himself laughing easily at all the crazy turns.
Mike got passionate about overpriced supplements and how pre-workout was just "caffeinated pixie dust for bros who can't wake up on time." Eric leaned in, nodding along with a small, curious smile on his face. He had no idea what Mike was talking about, but the passion in his voice was infectious. He made a mental note to discreetly Google 'pre-workout' later.
Armand mostly stayed quiet, sipping his drink, watching, lips tight.
But Kyle? Kyle kept checking in. A glance. Fingers brushing Eric’s arm when he laughed. A hand on his shoulder. Sitting just close enough that their knees touched under the table.
At one point, Eric caught Armand watching them, his gaze cold as it swept from Kyle's hand on Eric's arm to the easy laughter between them. His face was mostly expressionless, but his eyes narrowed. Was he being possessive? It made Eric’s stomach twist, and he looked away quickly.
Leon then pulled Eric into a conversation about their favorite movie soundtracks, growing animated as he declared Hans Zimmer “an actual demigod.” Even Mike chimed in with a smile when Eric mentioned his favourite movie, a cult-classic fantasy horror with a big score.
Armand, when prompted by Leon to “be a human and talk,” only offered, “Silence is underrated,” his voice a little too sharp.
Kyle shot Armand a quick, almost weary glance before rolling his eyes. “Ignore him, he was born moody.”
Armand raised his glass, eyes lingering on Kyle. "And yet you keep bringing me along."
*****
When Mike and Armand had called it a night, and Leon wandered off to flirt with a woman at the bar, Kyle pulled Eric outside, ready to leave.
They started walking, the night cool, and the quiet buzz of the city wrapped around them like a soft blanket.
"So?" Kyle asked. "Was it terrible?"
Eric looked into the night. "Honestly? No. It was kind of... great."
Kyle gave him a warm smile. "Good. I hoped you’d have fun. And I think Mike likes you more than he likes me now.”
Eric looked down at his feet. "Thanks for inviting me. I’m not... usually someone people think to invite."
"Well, then they’re missing out."
Eric looked up, his heart skipping a beat. Kyle was closer than before, their shoulders almost touching.
"You’re easy to be around, Eric. You’re funny. Smart. Kind. You really sell yourself short."
Eric didn’t know how to respond to such a heartfelt compliment. He was not used to that. They bumped against each other as Kyle got even closer, and Eric felt a his hand brushing up his back to rest near his neck.
He looked over, their eyes met, and they gazed at each other for a long moment.
Kyle paused. "You want to come back to my place for a bit?” he asked softly. “I live nearby. We could talk more. Or... just hang out. No pressure."
Eric blinked, surprised. His brain scrambled to form words. "I — uh — yeah. Sure. I'd like that", he nodded, heart hammering.
The hunk smiled, and stopped walking, his hand still on Eric’s back. Kyle then leaned in and kissed him — soft and sure. Eric froze, then melted, kissing him back.
The contact was gentle and warm, their lips tenderly discovering each other, the soft brush of Kyle's beard against his skin, the subtle sound of their shared breathing. Kyle’s big arms surrounded him, his strong hands holding Eric in place, leaving his knees a little shaky.
When they parted, seconds or minutes or hours later, Eric was breathless. He felt like a lion had just awakened in his chest. It was a powerful, unfamiliar rumble of something like confidence and a fierce, new kind of longing. He stared at the handsome face, the lips he had just kissed, noticing Kyle’s cheeks all flushed, his eyes hazy.
Kyle reached for Eric’s hand, and they walked down the street, together.
*****
The apartment was what Eric expected — messy in a lived-in, single-guy sort of way. But it was still well kept. There were stacks of books near the couch, a record player by the window, and shelves crammed with vinyl. A half-finished protein shake sat next to a bowl of granola bars.
They both kicked off their shoes. Eric sat on the couch as Kyle searched the shelves for a specific record, finally sliding one from its sleeve. He set the needle gently on the vinyl and turned the volume low. Soft, sultry jazz filled the room.
"Shaday," Kyle said as he collected glasses of water from the kitchen. "Perfect night music."
Eric blinked. "Shaday?"
Kyle grinned, showing him the sleeve. "Sade. Pronounced 'Shah-day'. She's a vibe."
Eric smiled, a little embarrassed but charmed. "I’m learning things every minute with you."
Kyle dropped onto the couch with a huff, close but not touching. "This okay?"
Eric nodded. "Yeah."
They talked for a while, the conversation flowing easily as the music played softly in the background.
"Okay, worst haircut you ever had," Kyle said, nudging Eric with his knee.
Eric laughed. "Fifth grade. The bowl cut my mom insisted was 'timeless.' Spoiler: it was not."
Kyle winced in solidarity. "Oof. Mine was when I tried bleached spiky tips and ended up looking like a rave porcupine." They chuckled.
"Desert island album?" Kyle asked.
Eric thought for a moment. "Céline Dion’s Falling Into You. I know, I know, it’s cheesy, pop ballads and all. But there’s something about raw vocals paired with glossy production. It’s emotional, dramatic, and unapologetically big. People sleep on pop, but when it's done right? It’s really powerful.” He paused, suddenly self-conscious of his passionate outburst. “You?"
Kyle had been nodding, as if impressed. "Mine’s Purple Rain. Can’t be sad when ‘Let’s Go Crazy’ is playing."
Eric smiled. "Do you ever feel like... music understands you better than people do?" he asked quietly.
Kyle nodded. "I mean…” he gestured to his music collection. “But you’re not so hard to understand." The words hung in the air.
“So,” Eric asked, quieter now, “why me?”
Kyle turned toward him. “What do you mean?”
"You’re... you. And I’m... well… not what people expect when they think of someone like you would be interested in."
Kyle was quiet for a moment, then said, "Because you're real. You don't put on an act. You show up even when it's hard. But also, you're doing the work, pushing yourself every day. You decided to take life by the balls and work on yourself. And that kind of courage and dedication? That matters to me a lot more than abs or lifting stats."
Eric looked at him, caught somewhere between touched and overwhelmed.
Kyle shrugged. “And you make me feel like I can be myself. Like I don’t have to perform.”
Eric’s throat tightened. “That’s... kind of exactly how you make me feel.”
They sat in silence for a beat, the space between them charged and tender. Then Kyle reached out slowly, brushing a hand down Eric’s arm, his fingers lingering. Eric turned into the touch.
“I’m glad you came tonight,” Kyle said, voice low.
Eric smiled, heart pounding. “Me too.”
Kyle leaned in, pausing just a breath away. “Can I kiss you again?”
Eric nodded.
*****
This time, there was no hesitation. Their mouths met with a quiet hunger, the kiss slow and intimate. Eric let out a soft sound as Kyle’s hand cupped his jaw, and he felt himself flush all over, every nerve lit up and trembling.
They shifted closer, hands exploring, kisses growing deeper. Kyle leaned back slightly and peeled off his shirt without hesitation, his body lit by the soft glow of the nearby lamp. Eric couldn’t believe his eyes, the dark haired hunk from the gym, in front of him, kissing him, exposing his body, his perfect hairy pecs.
Kyle looked at Eric, eyes gentle. "Okay if I take yours off?" he asked, voice quiet.
Eric hesitated, his heart hammering like a trapped bird. He hadn’t allowed himself to be truly seen, especially not his body, like this.
But Kyle's gaze, when he finally met it, held no judgment, only a quiet awe that seemed to strip away years of Eric's self-loathing. He managed a shaky nod, the vulnerability almost overwhelming.
Kyle undid the shirt’s buttons, and pushed it off Eric’s shoulders, helping his arms out.
"You’re beautiful," he murmured, his fingers lingering on Eric's skin.
Eric flushed, the heat rising to his cheeks. He glanced at Kyle's perfect form, the sculpted muscles, the confident stance. He wondered how Kyle could see beauty in him. But something in his voice, a quiet sincerity, made him believe it, just a little.
Kyle cupped the back of Eric’s neck with one large hand and pulled him into a kiss — slow, intense, and searching. His tongue traced the edge of Eric’s lips before easing in, coaxing a moan from him as their mouths moved in sync, deepening the kiss with every breath.
Eric’s hands roamed tentatively at first, fingertips brushing over Kyle’s sculpted shoulders and firm chest. He traced the line of muscle along Kyle’s impossible torso, brushing the nipples, each motion making Kyle exhale sharply against his lips. Encouraged, Eric let his palms glide down, over the defined abs and the hairy trail that led to his belt, trying not to tickle.
He was awed by the contrast between their bodies and the thrill of being wanted anyway.
As Eric’s hand went further down, he could feel that Kyle was fully hard, his jeans pulled tight as his cock pulsated against the fabric. He let his fingers rest there a moment, testing the weight and heat through the denim. Kyle let out a low, aching sound and gently pulled himself away, ever so slightly.
"Can we take these off?" he asked, his voice rough.
Eric nodded, breath catching as Kyle slowly undid his Eric’s belt, his knuckles brushing sensitive skin. He kissed Eric again, softer this time, as if to ask for permission with every movement. Kyle then stood, unzipping his own jeans, letting them fall. He stepped out of them easily, comfortable in his skin.
Eric stared in absolute awe. Kyle’s cock was perfect. It was cut, veiny, and leaking profusely. How was this real? How was this man, standing naked in front of him, wanting him? He thought of his own body, the softness, the lack of definition, and felt a familiar wave of inadequacy. But then Kyle shifted, a small, almost shy smile on his face, and the wanting in his eyes was undeniable.
Then Kyle knelt in front of him, his hand brushing over the hem of Eric’s waistband. "Okay?" he asked again, his breath quick, heat and desire radiating from his body.
Eric’s heart pounded. "Yes. Please."
Kyle smiled, then slowly began to undress him, hands steady, eyes drinking him in like he was the most beautiful thing in the world.
Still kneeling, Kyle leaned in for another kiss, hungrier this time, his hairy body against Eric’s soft flesh. His lips soon started to move down, kissing Eric’s jaw, his neck, his collarbone, the mounds of his chest, sucking the nipples. Kyle’s mouth moved like it wanted it all.
Eric’s mind was spinning at the sensation of the beard on his skin. He moaned, his fingers caressing the hunk’s hair as he went further down still, showering Eric’s belly with slow kisses, until he reached his cock. It wasn’t long, about 6 inches, but it was thick. Kyle stared at it for a second, letting out a sharp breath, his mouth agape.
His hand started pulling on the skin, exposing the head and letting a drop of precum flow. Kyle bent down quickly and licked it, wrapping his lips on the tip, tasting his juice. A deep growl of satisfaction rumbled in his throat.
His tongue played with the foreskin for a moment, before swallowing the thick cock to the hilt, burying his whole face.
Eric gasped, his mouth wide. The heat of Kyle’s mouth sent shivers through his entire body, and it took an effort not to finish right then and there.
Kyle began to suck eagerly. A low moan escaped Eric’s lips, a sound that only spurred him on. Eric’s hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, deeper, and Kyle met the pressure with his own thrusts.
The hunk was stroking himself at the same pace. He let out soft moans, his mouth full. The air in the room grew thick with their combined arousal.
Eric was about to lose it. The sight of Kyle’s muscular back, his bulging arms, his head bobbing up and down, giving him this kind of pleasure, was too much. “I’m close”, he whimpered.
Kyle quickened his pace with a renewed hunger, growling, slurping, one hand all over Eric’s body, the other working his own cock.
With a cry, Eric exploded in Kyle’s mouth, his fingers grasping the sweaty hair. Shot after shot, his body convulsed as the hungry mouth tightened, swallowing every drop.
Eric was in a daze, but heard Kyle grunting, his head shaking on his lap. He was coming, his lips still wrapped around Eric, his body tensing, showing every detail of his muscular frame.
It took a while for either of them to move again. Kyle removed his mouth, but laid his head back down on Eric’s thigh, catching his breath. Eric stroked his hair slowly, the soft strands a comfort under his fingers, and felt a sense of devotion so profound it was almost overwhelming in its newness.
Kyle straightened, smiling, nodding in slight disbelief, his eyes still hazy, and looked at Eric like he was everything he'd been hoping for. It made Eric feel wanted in a way he hadn't in years — completely, shamelessly, as though his body was not just acceptable but treasured.
Kyle wiped his load off of the floor with his dirty t-shirt. Eric felt a brief pang of curiosity, wishing he'd been more aware in that moment, but the immediate intimacy quickly overshadowed it.
Kyle crawled back up on the couch, his body close to Eric. They kissed again, slow and tired, smiling between each press of lips. The only thing heavier than their breathing was the sense of quiet joy settling over them both.
"Stay?" Kyle murmured.
“Ok.”
Kyle twisted, effortlessly removing the couch cushions to make a space for them to lie down. He reached behind and pulled a soft blanket over them both.
Eric tucked in closer, resting his head against Kyle's chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart. His own was still thrumming a fast rhythm.
He smiled, a quiet, disbelieving joy settling in his chest. But as Kyle's arms wrapped around him, warm and secure, and they drifted into sleep, he knew it had all happened.
And it felt undeniably like the beginning of something real.
(To be continued)
