RUSH

Ch. 36: Swolemates

-Mason-

I'd most definitely plunged into this training situation out of sheer impulse, spewing out the suggestion before my brain could truly filter through any possibly ramifications; still, my unexpected bout of spontaneity was turning out to be kind of a gift in disguise. I'd already spent quite a few days spiraling while trying to mentally prepare for the worst case-scenario, so I felt hopeful and ready. As long as I didn't shove my foot in my mouth again, we'd be golden.

Well, hopefully.

In all honesty, I had nothing to complain about. Not only did I have an excuse to spend some quality one-on-one time with Bennett, who was quickly becoming my favorite person to be around, but I could indirectly rope him into becoming my gym buddy on top of that. And, uhhh, maybe more? Eventually? Maybe? Please?

That wasn't even the point, though. Or not the whole point, anyways. Did I have shameless ulterior motives tied to my inexplicable longing for this short, though absolutely inestimable, dude? Yeah, sure, I was smitten. But who wouldn't be?

Perhaps it was foolish to assume that spending more time together would somehow lead to him organically falling for me, but maybe I could at least figure out what the hell his sexuality was as a starting point. If he was even remotely into guys, then perhaps I'd muster up the courage to do anything past ogling him.

Because this whole guessing game was just... not working for me.

And that wasn't even the only perk, though it was certainly an appreciated detail. This was already great in general, but even more so whenever I recalled my other possibility for a gym partner; Eric, said option, had insisted that we get matching shorts with "swolemates" embroidered across the back, right on our asses.

I'd vetoed it, of course.

To which he'd suggested matching tramp stamps instead. Which I'd also vetoed. I'd also made him promise to stop trying to match my outfits whenever he tagged along, even if he was just doing it ironically. Whatever that even meant.

But all that nonsense aside, this was definitely a win-win situation all around. I got a gym buddy that wasn't quite so disastrously chaotic, and I could keep an eye on Bennett, who was surprisingly accident prone. The last thing I needed was for him to accidentally decapitate himself while trying to bench press without a spotter.

Besides, as unexpectedly as this had all come about, I had every intention to put my best foot forward, which involved spending far too many hours coming up with a concise schedule, personalized workout routine (which I still needed to modify based on Bennett's goals), and making sure I actually brushed up on the proper names and uses for all the equipment and exercises at our disposal... just in case.

After frequenting the gym alone for so long, typically only quietly signaling towards machines during any brief interactions with strangers, it was almost a bit intimidating to be working out with someone else. Especially Bennett.

More than anything, there was no way I was willing to half-ass this. I couldn't. Not when it came to him.

And while I was still trying to wrap my head around what exactly was going on, I did know a few things, with the most important one being that I needed to make this worth his time. If I couldn't help him in some way, then what the hell was the point of this in the first place?

So, I was roaring to go, even though I was trying to be casual about it. I was somewhat unsure about whether I wanted to convey how deeply I'd considered this at all, lest I overwhelm him with my eagerness.