This is definitely how I've seen some videos start.
I move to sit on the closest bench and hunch over slightly, making sure that what is happening in my own sweats is not visible to him. I have no idea what has gotten into me. I have to stop thinking about it, but fuck— He takes his hoodie off and he's wearing one of those white muscle shirts and damn, he has muscles.
"I'm not usually one for an audience," Garrett says with a wink my way. I know I'm blushing and turn my face to stare at the floor between my feet. Garrett laughs, which is a rich sound in such an open space, and I can't help but look back up at him. "Have you ever lifted weights before?"
"Nothing serious," I say. "Like I said, I haven't stepped foot into a gym in years. It might come as a surprise, but I wasn't all that popular in school so sports and stuff were out."
"That is actually hard to believe," Garrett says. He stretches his arm above his head and bends it, using his other hand to grip his elbow. It shows off his underarm. While he might be bald and have a smooth chest, from what I can tell, his armpits are all natural. Fuck, I'm staring again.
I'm not even an armpit guy.
"With your looks now, I figured you'd have a line of girls and guys following you around."
I scoff and stand up, trying to adjust myself without him seeing. I need to focus on something else. "I was not popular. This happened after high school, not that it's much of a glow up. I was always too busy being a parent to my siblings to focus on dating."
Garrett turns around and looks at me. I definitely didn't mean to drop that trauma on him. "You have siblings? How many?"
"Three," I answer. "I haven't seen them in a couple of years, not officially."
"What do you mean?" Garrett moves to grab a weight in each hand. I almost question why he's only going with the five pounds until he hands them over to me. "I'm not going to be the only one working up a sweat."
I take the weights from him. They're not heavy, but I don't know what to do with them. Garrett smiles and turns me to face the mirror. He positions himself behind me, leaving a gap between our bodies. Our heights are close to the same, but my slim frame doesn't hide half of his. He moves one arm to wrap around my wrist, turning it so I'm holding the weight palm up and he moves to bend my forearm toward my bicep.
"Do about five of those on each side, ten sets each. If you start to feel a burn, take it slow or stop."
I wait until he picks up his own weights, triple what I have, and stands next to me. I mirror his stance and movements, watching him through the mirror. We don't say much as I follow him through the sets. He isn't helping me get rid of my semi with the little grunts he lets out and the way he shifts his body slightly forward each time he curls his arm upward.
I can feel my muscles working for sure, but it isn't anything strenuous. I look between our reflections when he speaks again. "So, what did you mean by not officially?"
"I chose the apartment building because it's close to their bus stop in the morning. My parents told me when I left I wasn't allowed back, but I had to keep an eye on them. I've always lived in the area."
"That's gotta be tough," he says. I don't know what I expected him to say. I've never told anyone that before. I'm scared that if more people know about my siblings, the more chance that word will get back to them or my parents that I'm keeping an eye out. I wouldn't put it past either of my parents to do something if they knew.
"It is what it is," I say. I finish another set and let my arms relax. Garrett gives me a smile through the mirror. "I'm just glad they seem to be doing okay."
I start the next set, not sure where to carry the conversation. Garrett, though, is on top of it. He keeps an easy, surface level conversation throughout his own sets.
We move on to one of the benches and I watch Garrett lay on his back and use the weights I had to do what he calls a Chest Fly. He keeps talking through the movements, glancing at me every couple words.
"You try it," he says when he's done ten minutes later. "I'll help you make sure your form is right so you don't pull anything."
I lay down in the same spot. He shifts my legs so they're a bit further apart and then he hands me the weights and squats down behind me, right next to my head. His hands are on either of my arms, supporting my elbows. "Take your elbows down until you start to create a V-shape with your arms. There you go, good job. Now, hold that for three seconds and then you're going to bring your arms straight up and hold the weights above you for three seconds.
His fingertips glide over my skin as I do as instructed. He's whispering words of encouragement under his breath. I'm not sure if he knows he's doing it or if it's just what he does when helping someone. I don't comment on it, but my dick definitely catches the words 'Good boy' he mutters.
"One more," he says and his hands caress my arms once more as I go into the final movement.
He stands up just as I happen to tilt my head so I'm staring directly at the tent in his pants. “Shit.” I nearly drop the weights.
"Are you good?" Garret leans down and takes one of the weights from me immediately.
I take a deep breath and sit, palming my own erection with my back to him. "Yeah, I'm good. It wasn't hurting or anything."
"How do your muscles feel?"
"Loose, actually." I roll my shoulders a couple of times and then tilt my head back and forth to work out my neck muscles.
"We won't do too much more, since we should probably get some sleep at some point. Let me show you the best part about this gym."
