“Meh.” Dylan waved them off dismissively, drinking the last of his coffee. Though they were right. He should talk to Jared and set the record straight. He didn’t want to lose his friendship.
“Anyway, whatever you do, we have your back,” Penny stated, giving his hand a light squeeze.
“Thank you.”
A metallic thud resonated throughout the space when Dylan dropped the bar on the floor. With his heart pulsing in his temples and Ghostemane’s “I duckinf hatw you” blasting through his earphones, he dragged a towel over his face, legs threatening to give out.
Romanian Deadlifts were no joke, but doing them with forty kilograms on each side after a couple of months of pure laziness was borderline destructive.
Most people went to the gym to build muscle or get all toned and defined for summer. Dylan worked the other way around, coming here mostly between September and April—always against the current, apparently. He liked being in shape, but he didn’t train to look hot and get all the attention at the beach. He just needed to be fit for the snowboarding season.
Weightlifting routines with some high-intensity interval training thrown in the mix were good for two reasons, besides the healthy lifestyle. One, he gained endurance. Two, the number of times he’d broken both his wrists and sprained his knees over the years gliding down those white slopes was countless, keeping his muscles strong helped to prevent those injuries, or at least made them less severe.
Some of his friends said he was crazy for continuing to abuse his body with how harsh snowboarding could be. But he couldn’t see himself stopping any time soon. He loved it. The silence of the mountains. The adrenaline rush. His entire existence connected with nature, growing roots in the dirt as it pumped life through his veins. Nothing was ever wrong when he was up there.
Nodding his head goodbye to the guy working on the Smith machine beside him, Dylan made his way back to the changing rooms. Once inside, he tossed his towel on the bench and plopped down, releasing a long sigh.
His hands scrubbed up and down his face several times before he dragged them back over his head. Exhaustion had never felt so hefty.
The day had felt longer than he’d like to admit. His mood had been swinging between shitty and extra cranky, and the tension floating around the office only added fuel to the fire.They were delayed for the deliverables of their current project phase, and their pain in the ass of a boss had been fluttering around the office like an angry monkey throwing shit. Not even funny.
On top of it all, Dylan couldn’t get Jared out of his head. Did he like his coworker despite it making him feel like a manther? Yes. Did he like the idea of getting hot and heavy with him? Absolutely. Would it ever happen again? Nope. Not when one kiss had made him feel so bad for feeling so good.
Dylan pressed his back to the wall and looked up at the ceiling. He hated being here, in a situation that made no fucking sense. They were colleagues, and he was perfectly fine with that. The differences in their views on relationships were so big he’d never considered doing something so... reckless. Not to mention the different life stages they were at. Dylan had already experienced and experimented all he wanted, while Jared was barely peeking outside his cocoon.
Also, why can’t I get over that stupid kiss and his stupid pretty face?
Seriously, he was too handsome. Though maybe it was his elegant grunge vibes. Who the fuck wears tartan shirts, hoodies, and jeans and manages to look fancy? Dylan could impersonate the drug dealer next door in that type of outfit. Not Jared, with his slender, tall frame.
Every time his memory traveled to that night, he got agitated. The way they explored each other’s bodies. The way their mouths molded together, Jared’s teeth scraping his bottom lip when he bit him.
Imagine if he actually liked to top...
Grunting out a huff with his cock at half-mast, Dylan undressed and made his way into the shower. He needed to get rid of the layer of sweat covering his skin. And also relieve all this pent-up horniness, like he’d been doing for the past ten days.
The door of his shower stall closed and he turned on thewater. It ran down his skin, hitting the back of his neck as he stared downward. Everything hurt, in and outside of him.
You shouldn’t have kissed him. No matter how badly you want him to fuck you sideways. How can you be so stupid and risk such a natural friendship? How could you put Jared in that position, knowing he has a partner?
Guilt crawled up his throat with the endless loop of thoughts. However, nothing could stop the urge spreading through him, and he wrapped his fingers around his aching dick. It was a compulsion at this point. But Jared had created a physical need in him he didn’t even want to fight.
Soaked in the arousal and memories of what it could have been, Dylan desperately moved his hand up and down. Pre-cum soon crowned his tip, his breaths becoming ragged.
With his bottom lip pinched between his teeth to keep the noise down, he edged himself several times, always stopping when that sensation of a thousand bolts snaked down his spine. It was such a thrill.
After a couple of minutes that felt like seconds and hours at the same time, his lungs were struggling to control the oxygen flow. He could hardly stand on his feet, and the light-headedness was growing with every violent heartbeat.
With a palm on the tiled wall in front of him, water still cascading down his back, he sped up again. The mix of his muscles burning and the added pressure on his cock made him dizzy. Every fiber in his body was palpitating.
Jared and that sinful mouth of his flashed in his mind, sending yet another wave of pleasure through his system.
Rubbing his thumb over the slit, corkscrewing, a guttural growl resonated in his chest. Dylan pumped over and over again, forcefully bringing himself to the cathartic verge.
Cum jetted out of him in endless pulses. So much so, Dylan couldn’t hold his voice back. A pained moan escaped his lips,accompanied by the squeaking sound of his hand sliding down the wall as he crouched.
“Holy fuck,” he panted, squeezing his eyes shut.
All he could see were a bunch of dancing red and black dots behind his eyelids. His head and chest thumping, clouding his mind.
