When A Girl Canceled On Us 08 (Patreon)

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Chapter 8: Gym Showers

Having just gotten back, and being around all the frat bros who didn’t know yet what had been going on between Brandon and me, I was finally starting to feel calm before Jake burst in.

His quick suggestion to go to the gym could’ve been just a normal suggestion, but the accompanying smirk told me that he was trying to poke fun at Brandon and me for what he knew.

We headed out as a group, amped up from not seeing each other for a while, and made our way to the gym. We immediately split up into smaller groups and basically took over the place. There weren’t many other students there, since most were still gone on break. 

Jake joined Brandon and me at first as we did some bench press. We spotted each other, and Jake made little comments. 

“Don’t look up too fast,” he said as he moved into the spotting position over me. This is the position that straight guys do every day, but it carries a bit of a gay undertone. The guy doing the spotting has to put his dick right over the other guy’s face. We normally just pretended nothing was out of the ordinary, or else made gay jokes for a laugh, but this was different. 

It was a bit of a new territory for me. I was in the gym, a place I was always comfortable in, where all the nudity and proximity and sweaty college man smell was normal, except now there was Brandon, the big jock whose dick I had been learning to service, and Jake, who knew about it. 

“Shup up,” I said to Jake, a little nervous. 

“I can see your cock,” he said, smiling as he looked at my shorts as I lay back on the bench.

“Get a good look,” I shot back, “You love it.”

Jake snorted. “You wish, freshman.”

I was never very good at ribbing, but the way he rolled his eyes let me know I did it right that time.

“Please,” I said, gripping the bar a little tighter than I needed to. “You’re the one staring.”

He leaned in closer to the bar, pretending to check my grip. “Just making sure you don’t drop this on your chest. That would be tragic. All that potential, gone.”

“Yeah, real heroic of you,” I muttered. My face felt warmer than it should have under the fluorescent lights.

“Up,” he said, tapping the bar.

I pushed through the set, trying to focus on the weight, but all I could think about was how close he was standing, how easy it would be for his shorts to brush my forehead if he leaned the wrong way. It was such a normal gym thing, but suddenly it felt like it had a second meaning.

“Not bad,” he said as I racked it. “You’re getting stronger. Brandon’s influence.”

“Shut up,” I said, sitting up and grabbing my water bottle.

"You been taking those protein injections?" he said.

I didn't get the joke at first, looking at him funny.

"In your ass," he added, stifling a smirk.

"Oh my god," I said, but I couldn't help but chuckle. 

Brandon joined in, and he clapped Jake on the shoulder before lying back to do his own set. 

As we moved through the gym, the larger group of us decided to do all the “sus” exercises, the ones that a guy would normally be a bit ashamed to do in front of others at the gym. These included hip thrusts, booty blasters and stuff like that, basically all the glute exercises. It turned into this dumb little parade from station to station, everyone pretending it was a joke while still loading up the weight and making it count.

A couple of guys were filming quick clips for their private Snap stories, laughing and calling each other out for bad form. This is how it always went in young, hormonal, toxically masculine environments. We would do something ironically, then take it seriously.

Brandon didn’t seem embarrassed at all. He set up on the hip thrust machine like he was a master already, knocking out clean, controlled reps, jerking his hips and crotch into the air while the rest of the guys acted like they were just there for the bit. Jake leaned against a cable tower, smirking at me the whole time, like he was waiting for me to crack. Every time I walked past Brandon, our arms or shoulders brushed, and it made me think about when this bubble inside me would pop. Hopefully not in a room full of clanking metal and frat boys yelling over each other. 

One fellow freshman kept making jokes about how we all “need that gyatt!”

It was funny to see everyone goof off, but it was kind of surreal how I was actually gay now, or whatever. Guys’ lewdness and gay jokes didn’t become less funny. 

The real trial of conscience came when we filed back to the locker room.

The clothes came off quickly. It was like a ritual for us, strip fast, get to the showers, soap up before the place filled with steam. It always felt weirdly freeing to be naked around the other guys, like we all dropped the social armor at the same time. Most of them didn’t even bother with lockers. Sweaty shirts, shorts, and underwear landed in a damp pile on the bench while they jogged off toward the showers, already fully nude, joking and shoving each other like it was just another part of the workout.

I stood there for a second, tugging my shirt over my head, and my eyes drifted back to that pile of clothes. Even from a few feet away the aroma was warm sweat, musk and pure boy smell. I didn’t even know why I was looking at it. It just pulled my attention for a second longer than it should have.

When I looked up, Jake was watching me. He had that crooked smirk again, like he could read every thought passing through my head.

“What?” I said, trying to sound casual while I kicked off my shoes.

“Nothing,” he said. “Just making sure you don’t get lost over there.”

I rolled my eyes, but I could feel my face warming up. “Shut up.”

He just chuckled and turned away, grabbing his towel.

I shook my head, already knowing what he was thinking, and headed for the showers. Brandon fell in step behind me. As we walked, he gave me a quick spank on my bare ass. It made a sharp sound in the tiled room, but nobody even reacted. It was just normal locker room nonsense to everyone else.

“Move it, freshman,” he said quietly, a grin in his voice.

I glanced back at him, trying not to smile, and kept walking toward the steam.

"I gotta go out tonight," Freddy, one of the sophomores in the frat said. "I haven't been laid in two weeks now."

Brandon looked at me, but kept talking to Freddy. "Sucks for you."

Freddy looked at him puzzled. "You got laid over break??"

Brandon was quick on his feet, immediately diverting to his big, floppy cock. He grabbed it in his hands and made it do a helicopter. "I can't control my great big hog! He does what he wants!"

A few guys rolled their eyes, and some freshmen laughed, not yet being accustomed to his antics. Hell, technically I was still getting used to them too. 

The gym showers were the place where Brandon was always most in his element. He had a great, muscular body, and an enviable dick. It was well known and expected that he would be whipping that bad boy out at some point during a group nudity activity. His big, floppy dong led the way.

As soon as we got to the steamy, sudsy showers, I immediately missed showering with Brandon at my parents’ house. The gym showers had stalls. Still, there were no doors or curtains on them. So it wasn’t exactly a private space, but I already missed the view.

I walked in and found it difficult to locate a free stall through all the steam. 

“Damn, bro,” Jimmy, a sophomore frat boy gym rat shouted, staring at my ass, “You’ve got a SHELF, bro!”

He smacked me hard on the ass, very hard, making a loud, wet smack that echoed in the tiled room. We all laughed, the group looked at me, and I looked at Brandon. It was a small moment, but somehow meaningful when he gave me a light wink as we all kept laughing together. He knew more about my ass than anyone at this point.

“I told you it was a juicy butt,” he said loudly to me, no one else really understanding what it meant. 

I found an empty stall and walked into it, soaping myself up. It sucked having to shower separately, but we were all chatting with each other loudly the whole time over the dividers. We could see each other’s feet, and I saw when Jimmy, showering in the stall next to me, started peeing, aiming right at the drain.

I made a big deal out of it, just as an excuse for everyone to leave their stalls. I thought it would be fun to stand around naked together some more. No one else having any shame either, we stepped out of our stalls to point and laugh at Jimmy, his pale butt turned toward us as he didn’t even stop for a second. 

“Like you guys don’t do it,” he said, shrugging.

With all of us hyped up from two weeks of break already, we got kind of wild. Brandon grabbed my ass in front of everyone, and just as Jimmy looked at him kind of weird, he realized he had to correct himself. 

“Do the booty dance!” he shouted, smacking me on the ass. 

Why does my ass keep getting smacked today? I thought to myself.

The whole group started egging me on, and I didn’t even know exactly how to do it, but it had been a tiktok trend recently and I knew the general idea. You just twerk and do a little dance. The point was for girls to show off their fat ass, but of course frat boys are going to be doing it ironically much more often than actual girls. 

“C’mon, bro, give us the full performance,” Jimmy said, clapping his hands.

“Yeah, freshman showcase,” someone else added.

I sighed, but finally gave in, quickly assuming the starting stance, as the guys started cheering. I did my best, gyrating awkwardly while they cheered me on. The tile was slick under my feet and I almost lost my balance, which just made everyone laugh harder.

“Look at him go!” Jake called out. “Natural talent.”

“Shut up,” I muttered, still half bent over, feeling my face heat up. Part of me wanted to stop, but another part liked the attention more than I wanted to admit.

Brandon stepped a little closer, close enough that I could feel the warmth coming off his body.

“Lower,” he said quietly, just for me, his hand hovering near my hip like he was about to guide me.

I shot him a quick look over my shoulder. “You’re enjoying this too much.”

He just grinned. “You started it.”

I bent over fully, feeling my glutes separate, exposing my hole to everyone, and they literally applauded as I did a couple more exaggerated shakes. I just wanted to get it over with, but I got kind of into it once I realized I was doing a good job. That's the thing with these ironic fratty adventures, you actually start to discover the fun of doing things like mimicking a stupid internet dance or doing a butt exercise.

“FreshMAN! FreshMAN!” the group started chanting.

After a minute, I decided the show was over and I straightened up, as the guys turned their attention to another freshman, almost getting him to cover his body in soap and slide around on the floor in a game called "hockey puck".

Finally, some regular, non-frat freshman nerdy type guy came in to shower, wrapped in a towel that looked big on him, and it was clear that he was somewhat intimidated by all our open nudity and fratty shit, so we sort of just gravitated back to our individual stalls. We still chatted loudly the whole time and eventually made our way back to the locker room.

Brandon and I were changing right next to each other, and Jimmy was on my other side. Freddy came up to his other side and said “nice cock”. I just chuckled through my nose without even looking. That was a normal joke in our frat. If you’ve run out of other things to say, you could just say “nice cock” and usually get a bit of a laugh. Out of the corner of my eye though, I could have sworn I saw his dick make the slightest shift. It wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. All guys’ dicks move on their own without any provocation, but the timing made me clock it as something worth noting, especially now that I had become attuned to my penchant for homoerotic affection. 

Something flipped in Jimmy, and he bit back a bit harder than expected at Freddy. “Fuck off, faggot.”

“Woah,” Jake said, “It was just a joke.”

Jimmy shook his head, facing his locker. The guys left him alone, but I had a hundred emotions flowing through my head at once. 

Was Jimmy a little more open to gay stuff than it seemed? What if there were more gay-ish guys among us? What if they just hadn’t had the chance to do something like Brandon and I had done in the woods? Are Brandon and I being selfish by keeping it a secret, when others might feel less alone if they knew?

Maybe it didn’t take an ethical dilemma to get me to this point, but whatever the thought process was, I didn’t like hearing “faggot” in a mean way, and I wanted to do something dramatic. 

I put my hand on Brandon’s lower back, while he was still naked and digging through his locker. He turned toward me, his face a little red. He widened his eyes at me, as if to telepathically ask, What the fuck are you doing?

I answered him by grabbing both his hips, pulling his naked body into mine, dick to dick, and getting up on my tip-toes to bring my face closer to his.

Brandon’s hand slid up my back, fingers pressing into the muscles along my spine. “You sure about this?” he whispered, just loud enough for me to hear.

I swallowed. “Yeah,” I said. “I think so.”

I pressed up into his face to kiss him, and his tongue pressed back through my lips. 

A couple of the more oafish guys among us burst out laughing at first, thinking we had taken a gay joke to new heights, but they soon joined the rest of the group in a moment of stunned silence. Brandon’s hands gripped my sides, before rubbing up and down my back in a warm embrace. 

“What is…” someone said quietly, before being shushed by someone else.

“No… wait… why are they…” another added. 

“Are they gay?” someone else finally asked.

As the whispers and murmuring grew louder, Brandon and I stayed in an embrace, our bodies pressed together, our dicks getting harder. My hands moved to his round ass, thumbs rubbing small circles without even thinking about it. He leaned into me harder, his chest against mine, his breath warm against my cheek as we kissed again.

The locker room was quiet, even as a dozen guys gathered around us, wondering what the fuck was going on. I could hear lockers slamming, someone’s towel hitting the bench, the faint hiss of the showers still running in the next room. It all felt distant, like they didn't matter, even though I needed them to see this.

Brandon pulled away and searched my face for a second, then pulled me in again, slower this time. Our hips pressed firmly into each other, our erections pressing up between our abs, and I felt him release a dose of pre-cum onto me, which only made my own body react harder. I shifted my weight, melting into the feeling of his warm, firm muscles against me, in front of everyone, inhibitions gone.

“Damn,” I heard Jimmy say, breaking the silence, “I was wondering when Brandon was gonna whip out his big boy hog. I almost started to actually miss it.”

A couple guys snorted, but no one really laughed this time. It wasn’t just a joke anymore. The room had a certain tension, like everyone was waiting to see what we’d do next. They were in shock.

Brandon’s forehead rested against mine. “Guess it’s not a secret anymore,” he murmured.

“Guess not,” I said, my heart pounding, even as I felt a strange sense of relief settle in my chest.