The river was a sheet of hammered pewter under the morning sun, the four-man shell slicing through the water with rhythmic precision. Coach Taylor’s voice barked over the putter of the launch’s outboard motor, his words sharp as oar blades. “Pick it up, little girls! Drive with your legs, Mark, Jesus Christ!”
Mark grinned, his bare shoulders gleaming with sweat as he leaned into the next stroke, his thighs flexing under the strain. His speedo clung to his hips, the black fabric stark against sun-browned skin, his abs rippling with each powerful pull. Beside him, Luke matched his rhythm, his uni stretched taut over his wiry frame, his biceps corded under the strain. Josh, in the bow seat, squinted against the glare off the water, his own shirtless torso slick with exertion. Matt, at stroke, cursed under his breath as Coach’s megaphone screeched again.
Josh glanced back over his shoulder, his grin crooked. “Hey, guys,” he panted between strokes, “I got a money-making idea for some side cash.”
Luke rolled his eyes but didn’t break rhythm. “Sure, bro. Spill. What’s the scheme this time?”
Josh’s oar skipped a beat. “We’re hot, ripped college rowers,” he said, dead serious. “We should do a rower calendar. We’d make bank.”
Matt barked a laugh, his shoulders shaking. “Dude,” he wheezed, “imagine how much more we’d make for a naked calendar.”
Mark flexed on the next stroke, his biceps bulging obscenely. “Yeah, I’m down,” he drawled, smug. “I’m basically a god walking on this campus.”
Josh snorted. “You’re a dick,” he said, and before Mark could retort, Josh leaned sideways and shoved him. Hard.
Mark’s balance broke instantly. His oar wrenched sideways, his legs tangled in the foot stretchers, and with a yelp, he pitched over the gunwale and into the river with a spectacular splash. The shell lurched violently from the sudden weight shift. Luke grabbed for the rigger, but it was too late and the boat rolled with a sickening tilt, dumping Josh, Matt, and him into the water in a tangle of limbs and oars.
The river was cold. Luke surfaced gasping, his uni clinging to his skin like a second layer. Beside him, Matt spat out a mouthful of water, his hair plastered to his forehead. Josh was already laughing, shaking his head like a dog. Mark popped up a few feet away, slicking his dark curls back with both hands, his speedo brief riding up his thighs.
“Fuck you, Josh,” Mark growled, but there was no real heat in it- just the usual roughhousing. He swam toward the overturned shell, his shoulders cutting through the water with effortless power.
Coach Taylor’s megaphone screeched from the launch. “What the hell was that?” he bellowed. “Get your asses back in that boat and stop goofing off!”
---
The shell was heavier upside down, waterlogged and awkward as they hauled it onto their shoulders. Josh and Mark took the bow, their speedos plastered to their thighs. Josh’s neon orange speedo was practically translucent with river water, clinging to the thick curve of his quads, while Mark’s black one rode up his hips, the fabric stretched taut over the dense muscle of his ass. Luke and Matt shouldered the stern, their unis suctioned to every ridge of their torsos. Luke’s lean frame outlined in navy blue, the fabric sticking to the sharp cut of his abs, his nipples peaked against the wet material. Matt’s uni had ridden up his thighs, the hem digging into the meat of his hamstrings as he adjusted his grip, his biceps flexing under the strain.
Water sluiced off the hull in sheets, dripping onto their heads as they trudged toward the dock. Mark’s shoulders gleamed under the morning sun, his delts flexing with each step, the water tracing the deep groove of his spine before disappearing into the waistband of his speedo. Josh’s chest was heaving, his pecs shifting under slick skin, his abs flexing as he laughed at something Matt muttered under his breath. Luke’s uni clung to the hollows of his hip bones, the fabric dark where it was soaked, the outline of his cock unmistakable against the tight material. Matt’s thighs were slick with river water, the muscles quivering under the weight of the shell, his calves corded as he stepped onto the dock.
Coach Taylor’s megaphone screeched again. “Move it, ladies!”
Mark rolled his eyes, his biceps bulging as he adjusted his grip. The movement made his speedo ride even higher, the black fabric digging into the crease of his ass, the curve of his glutes flexing with each step. Josh grinned, shaking his head like a dog again, water spraying off his curls with some of it landing on Luke, who jerked away with a muttered curse. Matt’s uni had slipped down one shoulder, exposing the dense muscle of his upper arm glossy with river water.
Matt's voice cut through the dripping exhaustion, his grin audible even as they struggled with the overturned shell. "Guys, look at us. This would be such a sick calendar pic," he panted, shaking water from his hair. "Drenched, jacked, and carrying a boat like some hot demigods."
Josh barked a laugh, shifting his grip on the hull. "Fuck yeah! 'Rowers After Dark': 'Oops, We Flipped.'" His neon orange speedo clung to his body as he flexed for an imaginary camera, earning a shove from Mark that nearly sent them all stumbling.
Mark rolled his shoulders, water sluicing down his chest. "Fuck it. Let's do it," he said, voice rough but eyes sharp with amusement. "I could use the cash. And let's be real, nobody's saying no to this." He jutted his chin toward his own torso, the black fabric of his speedo leaving nothing to imagination as it strained over his thighs.
Luke snorted but didn't argue, his own soaked uni plastered to every ridge of his abs. "I mean, sure I guess I’m down, guys."
Josh whooped, the sound ricocheting off the boathouse walls like a gunshot, his grin splitting his face wide open. Matt echoed him immediately, his laughter rough and breathless as he flipped dripping hair out of his eyes. Luke found himself grinning despite the river water still trickling down his back and even Mark, usually too busy being a smug bastard to indulge in shit like this, tipped his head back and hollered, the sound raw and unfiltered.
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