-Mason-
"You want me to leave, don't you?" Eric bemoaned, though he didn't sound all that troubled by the implications. Not that I could really tell.
I furrowed my brows in concern, releasing a harsh breath before carefully allowing the barbell to settle back onto the rack's hooks. Eric had already wandered away from behind the bench I was laying on, neglecting his spotter duties halfway through my set.
"What are you doing?" I inquired while sitting up, immediately noticing Eric messing around with the weights on the nearby squat rack's barbell. I grunted in disapproval as he added another hundred pounds to each side, immediately crossing the limit of how much weight the barbell was even meant to handle.
There was no way in hell he could actually lift the six hundred pounds he'd managed to accumulate on the sleeves, not when he didn't even weight train in the first place. I stared in halting disbelief, wondering if Eric was serious or not. He had to be joking, right?
"What if I'm a natural?"
"You're not... hey," I called out as Eric silently hyped himself up. And he was so evidently considering actually trying to lift the barbell, his hands already eagerly curling around the bar, that I immediately shot up to my feet and sprinted over to him.
"You've thrown your back out doing less," I reminded my reckless friend while gripping onto the center of the bar, genuinely conflicted as to whether he'd even be able to lift the barbell off the rack in the first place.
He was lucky I wasn't in the mood to find out.
Eric scoffed, but I didn't really care if he was vexed by my meddling. "Let's try fifty and see where you go from there... how does that sound?"
"But what if—"
"Eric."
"Fifty on each side?"
"Twenty-five on each side; the bar already weighs like forty-five pounds, so it's almost a hundred. Sounds good?"
"But I think—"
"I'm begging you to stop thinking, then."
Eric scoffed. "I'm not an idiot, you jerk," he retorted indignantly, like I needed any convincing in that matter. As if this wasn't the same man who managed to maintain a perfect GPA every single semester despite taking primarily honor courses and only showing up most of the time.
"I know you're not," I acknowledged. "But just listen to me about this, alright?"
Nevertheless, intelligence could only take Eric so far, especially when he suffered from such a diminished sense of self-preservation that actively wavered the more that he wanted something. This was the same tryhard that often neglected his own basic needs every single time finals season came around, which meant I had to periodically force him to drink water, eat meals and sometimes even remind him to shower whenever things got too chaotically busy.
When it came to common sense, there were quite a few times when I'd been forced to drag Eric, quite physically, out of harm's way. My dear friend was quite intelligent, but he could also be such an impulsive asshole. In those moments, not a single one of his brain cells could save him from himself.
"I'd argue that I'm smarter than you."
"And yet you're the one who's had his arm stuck in a claw machine before," I muttered warily, because I had hundreds of ridiculous examples at my disposal.
Eric gasped, feigning outrage that only lasted a few seconds before he wheezed at the memory. "I—fine. Fair enough!"
"Remember how you started sobbing after you convinced yourself they were going to have to amputate your arm?" I added off-handedly.
"Duh! Just the thought of having to get used to jerking off with my left hand was traumatizing enough," Eric replied, likely only half-joking. Then, he suddenly yelled out in annoyance. "Also, you were the one who put that pessimistic thought into my head in the first place!"
"Shit, did I?" I questioned in slight disbelief, trying hard not to laugh because... yeah, that did sound like something I'd do just to mess with him. There was quite an order to our chaos, which entailed him acting recklessly and me encouraging it unless it'd end with either of us in actual peril. There was only so far that I'd let him push his luck before pulling him back from the edge.
"You did! You turned to your mom and asked, 'do you think he'll get to keep his arm?' while she was calling 911!"
"I—hmm, yeah, that's possible."
Eric shook his head, chuckling despite himself... because he wasn't really the kind to hold onto grudges. Not for this long, anyways. To be fair, though, I wouldn't have been able to blame him even if he did. Which, it was quite funny how we worked in that regard.
Sometimes, when I got especially fed up with Eric, I had to remind myself that he put up with just as much shit from me... if not more.
I stood back as he started taking off the excess weight plates, frowning when I realized he'd also clamped the collars on the inside of the sleeve. "And these go at the ends, to secure the plates," I added while tapping the metal collars, roughly tousling Eric's hair when he complained that duh, of course; he knew that already.
Yeah, right.
It wasn't until he had set the appropriate weight, had secured the collars adequately, and had showed me that he knew how to squat with good form, that I finally let go of the barbell bar and stepped away from the squat rack.
I also made Eric check the height of the barbell and safety bars as well, making it a point to remind him that he should always adjust the former according to his shoulder height and the latter to match how low he was squatting. He kind of paid attention, even if he kept grumbling about how long we were taking to get to the fun part.
"I'll spot you."
He looked up at me expectantly, already visibly impatient since I'd spent the past fifteen minutes berating him about his squat form. "You're really not going to ask me about the plan?"
I frowned as Eric shifted from one foot to the other, watching as he buzzed with excitement despite my unwillingness to humor him about this. "No, I don't—I don't want to know, to be honest."
As much as he insisted, there was a part of me that didn't want to get involved at all. The fact that he'd asked Bennett to hang out was rather concerning, but if Bennett had agreed... then what the hell was I supposed to do about that? What could I do, realistically, even if my mind kept swirling with a plethora of questions and concerns?
I could hardly focus unless I stopped thinking altogether.
And I'd probably freak out about this later, when we made it back to the dorm and there was nothing to distract me from my own thoughts. Once the adrenaline had drained from my veins and it had the chance to be replaced by irrational, fervent jealousy over someone who wasn't even mine. Then, I'd care.
I'd care too much, probably.
"Really?"
"You're such a pain," I grumbled under my breath, rolling my eyes when Eric complained about me speaking up if I was going to bitch about him. Was he just trying to get a rise out of me? Or did he actually have something helpful in mind?
And why did Eric keep acting as if I actually had a say in learning about his so-called plan, which already seemed to be inevitably underway? There was no way I wouldn't get dragged into whatever he'd conjured up one way or another, so—
"Ugh, you really are an idiot," I complained, openly glaring at him.
"What the hell did I do now?" Eric questioned, more amused than anything.
"You know what you did."
"Care to elaborate?"
"Not really."
"Yeah, yeah, whatever."
Eric furrowed his eyebrows, huffing under his breath before gripping onto the bar with both hands and ducking his head under it, allowing the center to rest on his upper back and shoulders. "Not the neck," I heard him mutter to himself, and the corner of my mouth quirked up.
Well, at least he'd actually paid attention.
"You're slightly off-center. Look at the notches on the bar," I advised Eric while moving to stand behind him, nodding my head when he checked his hand placement and shifted a bit further right to ensure he was centered with the bar. "Alright, good job."
"See? I'm a natural," Eric boasted before taking a deep breath and lifting the bar off the squat rack, hopefully remembering to contract his core muscles. "Bro, this isn't very heavy."
I chuckled in response, keeping my distance as he waddled away from the hooks and slowly adjusted his feet placement. "We'll see how your thighs feel after a few sets," I replied while inching forward, hovering behind him, and following his movements as he squatted down.
---
And sure enough, he found out.
"That was... kind of homoerotic, huh?" Eric suggested in jest once he was done with the fourth set and had, once again, languidly placed the barbell back on the rack without any incident. He looked worn-out already, but that never stopped him from running his mouth.
I burst out laughing, shoving Eric away from me when he tried to stand behind me for emphasis; alright, so spotting was a bit intimate at times... so what?
Still, I was a bit astonished when he stumbled forward, nearly falling over before leaning against the side of one of the nearby, unoccupied machines. Eric chuckled even as he sluggishly flipped me off.
He hadn't even asked to add more weight after the first set, too busy catching his breath; thankfully, he finally understood why I'd been stubborn about the starting weight. Even if it did not look like a lot of weight on the barbell, sets typically added up pretty quickly, taking a toll entirely through sheer repetition.
"You can slowly add more weight later on, once you feel like you can handle it," I instructed him, wondering if he'd actually tag along tomorrow as well; Eric's schedule was typically a lot more packed than mine due to him being a computer engineer major. It was definitely easing up now that we were in our final year, but he was almost always still inundated with projects and exams regardless.
If Eric actually decided to tag along every day, though, I could even make him a workout schedule so that he'd efficiently work out the areas of his body he was interested in improving. Otherwise, he might end up accidentally neglecting some muscle groups.
Truth be told, I felt rather giddy over the prospect of Eric being my gym buddy, even if I'd been the one avoiding this all along.
"You were all up in my personal space," Eric continued while throwing an arm over my shoulder, even if he knew damn well that I was just trying to keep him safe. "Pretty sure I felt your dick rub up against my back at one point."
"Highly doubt it," I retorted, stifling a smirk when a passerby gave my shameless friend a bewildered scowl. "Don't say shit like that; you're gonna get us thrown out."
Eric grinned in response, as unfazed as ever.
"Please, if they haven't kicked you out for trailing after Bennett like a lost puppy, I doubt anything I do will get us banned," Eric retorted while patting one of my pecs.
I rolled my eyes, nudging him off of me. "You don't know I do that."
"You were there when I went to introduce myself, literally running circles around Bennett like a moth circling a flame," my friend pointed out while motioning towards the overhead light in a circular motion. "I'm surprised you haven't set yourself ablaze yet."
"Huh?"
"Anyways, what we need to do is—we need to find a way to win him over," Eric explained, pointing at my face in defiance. "Don't look at me like that; you know I'm right!"
"We?"
"Focus, you himbo."
"I'm not—"
"You're lucky I'm here to help!"
I huffed, feeling more threatened than anything. "I didn't—I don't want your help; not with this, anyways. Why would you ask him to hang out in the first place?"
Eric snorted, smirking despite the sudden, reluctant distrust in my voice. "See? I knew it was bugging you."
I scoffed. "How could it not?"
"You better hope he finds your whiny bouts of jealousy cute," Eric teased before reaching over to grab my small towel. I yanked it from his hand before he could wipe his sweaty face with it, hastily signaling towards the stand near the door, which contained a basket full of folded, clean hand towels.
"I'm not! I just—shut up."
"Oh yeah, sure," Eric replied while walking over to grab one.
---
A few hours later, we were finally done working out for the day. Eric had been rather helpful with spotting me during my sets, even if it also took twice as long as usual to do anything. He'd only nearly died twice, which was arguably an honest improvement from our typical outings.
Regardless, I spent most of the time either keeping Eric from abandoning me mid-set or having to carefully explain how to approach every piece of equipment that he found interesting enough to wander over to. Because the issue wasn't whether he was going to try it out or not. But rather, whether he'd accidentally give himself a concussion by trying to figure out how to use the goddamn kettlebell by swinging it over his head like a maniac.
And yeah, he almost had.
Regardless, Eric had a lot more stamina than I typically gave him credit for, particularly considering I was sleepily stumbling through the lobby while he was still very much wide awake and rambling about god knows what.
"Can we head back to the dorm?" I asked as we headed into the downstairs locker room, patting his back before he headed off towards one of the back rows, near the glass door that led to the pool showers.
"Nah," I heard him faintly call out from across the room while I wandered over to my locker. I grumbled my complaints in muttered whispers before letting out a quiet excuse me and walking past an older man slowly changing into his work clothes.
I slid my fingers across the cool metal of my locker, trailing my fingers across the ridges on the front before slowly unlocking it. There was nothing in there but my duffel bag, which I pulled out after slipping the lock into the side pocket, concernedly glancing over in the direction of the showers before closing the metal door with a soft click. I momentarily considered just escaping the gym a sweaty mess, taking a single step towards the exit before turning back around and diligently heading off to find my friend; I could definitely shower at home, but I probably shouldn't abandon Eric unless I was prepared to endure him yapping about it for the next few days.
Shit, it would be like the parking lot incident all over again.
I found Eric a few rows further down, intently glaring at the lock of what was, presumably, the locker his belongings were occupying. Except, there was a faint hint of bewilderment in his eyes as he stared at the numbers on the bottom of the lock.
"I don't remember the code," Eric admitted, somewhat taken aback by the realization.
"Knowing you, it's probably something idiotic," I replied, sharply exhaling through my nose when his eyes widened in immediate recognition. The lock opened... first try. "What was it?"
"I—none of your business," Eric replied, huffing under his breath.
"Fine, let's just hurry up." I breathed out a drawn out yawn, peeling off my sweaty shirt and using the few dry areas of fabric to wipe down my chest before tossing it over my shoulder. As much as I disliked the showers at the dorm, at least I'd be able to slip into bed soon after.
"What's the hurry?"
"Sleepy," was all the reasoning I provided while searching through my bag, hastily pulling out some spare change of clothes just so I wouldn't have to drive back all sweaty. I pressed them against my nose and inhaled softly, needlessly astounded that they were actually clean when I could still remember packing them just earlier in the day. "We should do some laundry soon."
"Come on; we can't go home yet!" Eric exclaimed, even though there was really not much else to do around this time.
"We can come back tomorrow," I assured him. Typically, I wouldn't mind just hanging around the gym, especially given how tiny our dorm room was. Most days I stayed a few hours later than necessary, but today had worn me down more than usual; having to socialize on top of working out had ripped the energy and will out of me, leaving nothing but a drowsy husk behind.
I leaned forward against the row of cool metal lockers with half-closed eyes, watching as Eric rummaged through his locker and took out... my swimming trunks?
"I'll drown you if you give me the chance," I warned him, even if going for a swim didn't sound all that terrible.
"Drown who?" a voice suddenly called out, and my eyes widened in realization.
I turned around to find Bennett standing there, shyly peeking over from the end of the row. He nervously glanced between us, forcing a wobbly smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.
"Uhhh, you meant today, right? I thought you signaled me over through the window just now, so I thought... y'know... but if not—"
I frowned, not having noticed that interaction at all.
"Yeah, I'm glad you could make it!" Eric replied encouragingly, flashing a wide grin before patting my shoulder. "Bennett's joining us for a swim, remember?"
"Only if it's alright... with you," Bennett interjected, not moving an inch from where he was still partially hiding behind the row of lockers. He'd already changed into swimming trunks and a black tank top, a light blue towel draped over his shoulders. And Bennett was partially swaddled in it, his eyes darting between us before carefully meeting mine once more.
He'd clearly forced himself to tag along. But why?
"I'm glad you could make it," I assured Bennett, even as I turned back to stealthily frown at my friend. Eric merely shrugged before slipping off his shirt, not even attempting to conceal his smugness. Alright, so we were both hanging out with him. Alright, that was nothing like I'd been expecting, even if this made the most sense.
Later, Eric would likely mock me for doubting his intentions. He would... I just knew it.
I could already hear Eric's taunting in my head, reminding me that he'd tried to let me know what was going on and I'd stubbornly refused to hear him out. And yeah, sure, he had a point. He usually did. But I hadn't been in the mood to listen to reason, and much less him.
"I'm—I'm glad you're glad," Bennett breathed out, hesitantly approaching us before settling down on the bench beside me. I could still discern the slight limp to his step, even if he didn't seem particularly in pain anymore.
"Are you feeling any better?" I asked while warily inspecting Bennett's ankle, pleased to see that at least it wasn't swollen anymore. Swimming should be alright, as long as he didn't exert himself. "Does it still hurt?"
"I'm fine now," Bennett breathed out, releasing a weak chuckle. "I haven't been exerting myself as much; I promise."
"Good boy," I murmured contentedly, gently patting Bennett's back before turning towards Eric. "Hey, pass me my—"
I shot up to my feet as Eric pushed down his shorts and boxers in one smooth motion, clearing my throat as I awkwardly stood between them. I opened my mouth to complain, only to remember that we were, indeed, in a locker room. Eric was shameless, but he wasn't necessarily doing anything wrong.
"Your swimming trunks?" Eric asked off-handedly before draping them over my unoccupied shoulder, attempting to walk around me only for me to mirror his movements. "Are you going to change or not?"
"Are you?" I muttered in disbelief, turning back to see Bennett nervously staring at the ground, his precious face flushed a deep red. "Huh, you good?"
"Me? Yeah, for sure," Bennett replied, dazedly signaling towards the nearby door that led to the pool showers. "I—I'll go ahead, alright?"
And then he was gone, just as quickly as he'd showed up.
"Really?" I hissed under my breath, flicking Eric's forehead.
Eric shrugged, scratching at his stomach before turning to look for his own swimming trunks. "You said you didn't know if he was into guys or not, right?"
"... right."
"So, did he seem interested?" Eric inquired, bearing a cocky grin. "If he didn't, then you have your answer."
I scoffed. "That—that's not how you... god damn it, Eric!"
"Well?"
I gritted my teeth, a bit conflicted because... yeah, Bennett had seemed rather flustered. But that could mean anything, right? Hell, even I would've been somewhat flustered if I didn't know Eric so well, having seen him naked countless of times throughout our childhood. "Cover it up or I'm chopping it off," I warned.
---
A/N: Thank you for reading!