Without waiting for a reply, Leo pushed open the heavy locker room door, stepping out into the brighter light of the gym corridor. He paused just outside the doorway, turning his head back over his shoulder. Ben stood framed in the doorway, his shorts stark against his powerful legs, his expression a mix of lingering panic and dazed arousal. Leo’s grin was wide and easy, his voice carrying clearly now, loud enough to be heard by Ben but casual enough for anyone else. "Hey Ben," he called, the amusement clear in his tone. "If you’re hitting the bench press later? I’d love to spot you again. Soon." He winked, quick and sharp, before turning and striding confidently down the corridor towards the clanging weights, leaving Ben rooted in the doorway, staring after him, the echo of Leo’s words hanging in the air.
Across the locker room, a shower curtain slid open with a soft hiss of steam, drawing Ben’s gaze. A young man stepped out, the air around him misty and warm. He couldn’t have been more than twenty-two, lean but defined, with the wiry muscle of a swimmer. Water streamed down his smooth, golden-tan skin, tracing paths over sharp collarbones and a flat, sculpted abdomen. Droplets clung to the dark, wet spikes of his hair, plastered messily to his forehead. A thin white towel was knotted low on his hips, the damp fabric clinging precariously, revealing the sharp V-cut lines leading down from his hips. His expression was one of amusement as he stopped directly in front of Ben, blocking his path to the exit. He raked a hand through his wet hair, shaking droplets free. "Dude," he said, his voice clear, his dark eyes locking onto Ben’s with knowing directness. "If you’re gonna fuck in the locker room? You gotta check the showers and stalls, man. The walls are thin as hell." He smirked, a faint dimple appearing in his cheek. "Sounded like a good time, though."
Ben froze, his face draining of color. He felt a cold sweat prickle across his shoulders. "What? No," he stammered, the denial sharp and too loud in the humid air. He took a jerky step back, bumping against a cold locker. "We weren’t— I mean, Leo was just... talking… we’re friends." His voice cracked on the lie. He clutched his gym bag tighter, knuckles white. "Seriously, it wasn’t like that."
The young man just laughed, a short, sharp sound. "My bad," he said, his smirk widening into a grin that was both playful and utterly unapologetic. He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial murmur. "Just sucking dick, not fucking. My bad." He turned smoothly towards the locker right beside Ben. As he reached up to open it, the knot of his towel loosened. The damp white fabric slipped, sliding down his lean hips and pooling silently around his ankles on the wet tile. He stood there completely naked for a beat, utterly unconcerned, the steam curling around him. His back was a taut landscape of lean muscle, the curve of his ass firm, high, and perfectly rounded, glistening with moisture. He bent slightly at the waist to retrieve something from the locker shelf, the movement flexing the defined muscles of his lower back and the smooth, tight globes of his buttocks. When he turned back around, he held a sleek black phone loosely in one hand. His other hand casually scratched the damp hair covering his forehead. Ben’s gaze flickered down despite himself. The young man’s cock, resting against his thigh, was thick and uncut, already half-hard, the flushed head peeking from its foreskin. A faint trail of dark hair led down from his navel.
He stepped closer, invading Ben’s space again. The scent of clean soap and steam filled the air. Without a word, he tapped the screen of Ben’s phone, clutched tightly in Ben’s trembling hand, with the back of his own phone. A soft chime sounded as the contact details transferred. "There," he said, his voice easy, confident. He met Ben’s wide, startled eyes, his own dark gaze steady and disarmingly direct. A faint smile played on his lips. "That’s my contact. If you ever need a spot…" He paused, letting the double meaning hang in the humid air, his gaze drifting pointedly down Ben’s body before snapping back up. "...or just a friend in the building. I just moved here after graduating from Columbia. Don’t know a soul." He winked, quick and sharp, then turned, bending fluidly to scoop up his towel. He slung it carelessly over his shoulder, the damp fabric draping across his back, and walked towards the sinks, leaving Ben standing frozen, staring at the new contact name flashing on his phone screen: *Daniel Chen*.
Ben shoved his phone into his gym bag like it was burning him, the zipper catching in his haste. He needed air, space, anything but this humid locker room and Daniel’s lingering, knowing smirk. He practically bolted for the heavy exit door, pushing it open with too much force. The cooler air of the gym corridor hit his flushed skin like a slap, a relief and a reminder of his own disarray. He took three long strides down the hallway, heart hammering against his ribs, the echo of Daniel’s laugh and the phantom feel of Leo’s hands still buzzing under his skin. The polished floor stretched ahead, leading towards the elevators and the sanctuary of his apartment. Just get home, he thought, the words a frantic mantra. Shower. Forget this happened. Forget both of them.
His hand just pressed the elevator call button when he stopped dead. He stood rigid for a second, staring at the brushed steel doors reflecting his own panicked expression. A low, frustrated groan escaped him. He spun on his heel, striding back towards the locker room door he’d just fled. He swung it open, the heavy weight resisting for a heartbeat. Leaning back into the opening, the humid air and scent of steam washing over him again, his eyes scanned the steamy interior. He found Daniel instantly, standing naked at the sinks, running a comb through his damp hair.
"Hey!" Ben called out, his voice louder than intended, echoing slightly off the tiles. Daniel turned, the comb pausing mid-stroke, eyebrows raised in silent question. Ben met his gaze, forcing his voice to level out, injecting a casualness he didn’t feel. "I’m Ben. I’m up in 1210." He didn’t wait for a reply. He pushed the door shut again, the heavy thud echoing in the sudden silence of the corridor. He stood there for a moment, breathing hard, staring at the closed door. What the hell had he just done? The elevator dinged softly down the hall, its doors sliding open to an empty car.
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