m/m Deano's Summer: A Muscle University Story

[Mdlftr]

What can I say?  The writing, the writing, the writing....

==================================

Fourteen

.........

“Fuck’s sake!” I groan, shaking my head and smirking.

“Come on! Why are you so embarrassed? It’s ME!” 

I look at Ryan. He’s looking back and smiling. That stupidly fucking handsome grin on his stupidly fucking handsome face. God - I like this guy so much. So, so fucking much.

.........

I playfully roll my eyes. And now we’re just looking at each other. Our eyes locked. And it feels like it’s there more than ever. The atmosphere. That tension between us. The car is still holding its breath. 

Ryan’s eyes veer down to my chest. He’s looking at my body. I feel a sharp pinch of something. Then his eyes veer away and my heart drops a little.

“Fucking hell!” he suddenly exclaims, holding his forearm up. His huge, veiny, absurdly bronzed forearm. I suddenly get a waft of that competition tan scent again.

“This bloody tan!” Ryan exclaims. “I’m gonna be this colour for a fucking week now!”

I just smile. At least I think I do. I can’t seem to look away from his forearm.

.......

Jesus. Holy fucking Jesus. Our arms are touching. They’re actually fucking touching. Ryan’s thick, veiny forearm is pushed up against my shorter, meaty forearm. His ridiculously bronzed skin contrasting with my much lighter, non-bronzed skin. I can feel the hardness and thickness of his arm muscle against mine. Skin on skin. Muscle on muscle. I literally feel like I’m going to explode.

I look up at Ryan’s face. He’s looking down at our touching forearms with this weirdly serious expression. He looks more nervous than ever. And then I realise - he’s not moving his arm. Ryan’s not taking his arm away from mine. What. The. Fuck?

And then his eyes veer up to my face and I swear my heart misses a beat. Because of Ryan’s expression. The way he’s looking at me. With this longing look on his face. And suddenly I know that none of it was in my imagination after all. The atmosphere. The tension. It’s all real. Because there really is something between us. Between me and stupidly good looking, Super Heavyweight bodybuilding champion demigod Ryan fucking North PT. 

I feel Ryan’s arm shift. My arm drops with his. And then … I feel his fingers touching mine. I look down. Ryan’s big fingers occupying the spaces in between mine. His hand now tightly gripping mine. His fingertips digging into the back of my hand. And holy. Fucking. Shit. We’re holding hands. I’m holding hands with Ryan North.

My brain is short-circuiting. This isn’t happening. This can’t be happening. Except it is. It really fucking is.

“Is this okay?” he asks in a gentle tone. He’s not looking at me. He’s looking down at our hands. Locked together. A perfect fit.

He finally looks up. That expression still on his face. Like he wants me. Like he wants me just as much as I want him. 

I nod in response. Unable to take my eyes away from his face. And I know that I’ll never forget this moment. That this will be a massive fucking dot on my timeline. Because someone finally likes me back. Ryan North actually likes me back. 

“Do you wanna stay at mine tonight?” he asks softly, giving my hand a harder squeeze. I don’t think I could let go of it even if I wanted to.

I bite my lip, breath a little sigh and nod. I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anything more. 

Ryan’s mouth curls into a little smile. I tip my head back against the headrest and close my eyes, feeling like my heart just exploded into a tiny million pieces.

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This is a MASTER CLASS in emotional writing that conveys so much with just a glance, a touch, a smile.  I'm gob smacked! 

[MrLashout]

Well whaddya know, the world of bodybuilding may have just got its own Ballum....

Mildly obscure UK soap opera references aside, major applause for this chapter Mr Muscleaddict. Brilliantly written from start to finish.

[Sjdmuscle]

OMG, Deano forgot to text his dad!  <splat> that was the sound of the shit hitting the fan!

I hope he has an exceptional night, because the aftermath with his dad certainly won't be pretty. I hope Ryan won't lose his job either!

[crushme99]

W O N D E R F U L

[brawnygods]

10 hours ago, Ozymandias said:

 

Well, I hope Ryan’s bed is reinforced...

 

Yeah, these two get at it and there’s a good chance for property damage.

[robotstuff]

On 7/8/2020 at 7:13 PM, muscleaddict said:

Fourteen

“So your dad’s Deano Watkins? Mate - he’s, like, a total legend!” 

I’m sat in an American style diner place a little later on opposite two of Ryan’s mates. One is called Pete; a heavyweight, shaved headed bodybuilder bronzed from his competition tan and the other is Mike, a pale skinned meathead and fellow Infinity Fitness Gym attendee. They seem rather impressed that my dad is the owner of the infamous Deano’s Gym’s.

Next to me is Ryan. His thick legs close to mine under the table. His bronzed, veiny forearms right there next to me. God, he smells good. Like a mixture of his usual Ryan scent and the smell of the competition tan.

“He’s a scary looking bastard though!” Mike adds.

Ryan gives me a knowing smirk. I shrug and pull a face. “You’ve just got to get to know him. And basically not take the piss!”

Ryan tells the lads I’m at Montgomery University and the conversation goes to that. And all the time we’re talking, I’m thinking about the absurdly bronzed Super Heavyweight bodybuilder sitting next to me. Bulging underneath his bright red t-shirt and black trackies. And that fucking scent he’s radiating.

We’ve definitely been getting looks from people. Four beefy lads. Two of whom are abnormally bronzed. I actually fucking love it. I can’t help noticing most of the attention seems to be drawn towards Ryan though. He’s the biggest and best looking lad of the group, after all. I kind of fucking love that too.

“So do you basically just train and eat and pose all day at uni?” Mike asks.

I smirk and shrug. “Pretty much!”

“Sounds pretty awesome!” Pete says.

“What’s your favourite lesson, D?” Ryan asks. I love it when he calls me D.

“Erm, probably Posing Practice 101,” I reply, before taking a swig of my milkshake.

“What’s that - just a bunch of lads posing in a room wearing just their posing trunks?” Pete asks.

I smirk and nod. “Basically!”

I don’t tell them that one of the reasons it’s my favourite lesson is because I get to see Sebastian Wood wearing only his posers. I don’t mention that I always try and stand at the back of the class so I can watch him from the back. So I can have a good view of his massive arse spilling out of his trunks. (If only Shaun knew that’s why I always try to go to that spot.) And I definitely don’t tell them that I sometimes used to fantasise about going back to Woody’s dorm room for some one on one posing when the lesson had finished.

“Lads - look who me and D posed with earlier!” Ryan says, playing with his phone. Then he hands it to them and shoots me a knowing smirk. He’s leaning on the table. His huge arms still right there next to mine. Veiny and bronzed and rock hard. Fuck.

“Liam “The Guns” fucking Watson!” Mike exclaims, looking at Ryan’s phone. “There’s a lad who’s done well!”

“Awesome pics, mate. I remember him competing as a junior,” Pete chimes in. 

“D - please tell me you’re gonna put THOSE on Instagram!” he says, looking at me wide-eyed.

I look back at him with a confused expression.

“I’ve never known a bodybuilder to post so little on Instagram!” Ryan teases.

I pull a face and roll my eyes, ignoring the slight twinge in my stomach.

“I’m with you, Deano,” Ryan’s non-bronzed mate, Mike says. “I can’t be arsed for all that Instagram shit!”

“Yeah, but you don’t look like THIS!” Ryan says. And then he does something which makes it feel like an electric shock has gone through my body. He places his hand (his big bronzed hand) on my bloody shoulder. Fucking hell. How can such a small simple act make it feel like my insides have suddenly been set on fire?

Ryan takes his hand off me. And now I just want to rewind time. And press pause at the moment his hand was on my fucking shoulder.

“He’s a proper bodybuilder!” Mike says, nodding to me. “He doesn’t need Instagram just so people can tell him how good he looks. Unlike some people I know,” he says, glaring at Ryan wide-eyed. Ryan looks at me, smirks and playfully rolls his eyes.

“Or to show off how fit his bloody girlfriend is!”

Pete coughs and shoots Ryan a look. And now they’re just looking at each other. Like there’s something going on. I don’t really know why, but I feel a weird pinch of something in my chest. 

There’s an awkward silence. Mike’s looking from Pete to Ryan, confused. “What did I say?”

Pete pulls a face and shakes his head, like it’s not his place to say.

“She’s bloody dumped you hasn’t she?”

Fuck. What the fuck?

“Charming!” Ryan says, rolling his eyes. “Ever the sensitive soul!” he says, sarcastically.

Something tugs sharply in my stomach. I feel a sudden and unexpected pang of sudden worry for Ryan. Like I suddenly want to know that he’s okay.

He makes eye contact with me, looking a little awkward. There’s a kind of sadness there. I’ve never seen that in Ryan before. “We’re … having a sort of … break!”

My stomach does something weird again. 

Mike pulls an eek face. “Sorry, pal!”

I want to ask Ryan if he’s okay. I want to check how he’s doing. Even though I don’t know him that well. Even though I feel like it would be weird to ask. Maybe even hypocritical given the circumstances. Given the sorts of thoughts I’ve been having about him.

“What happened?” I ask, surprising myself.

Fuck. I can’t believe I just asked that question. Ryan seems a little surprised too.

“Just … too many arguments, mate,” he says to me. His eyes linger on me for a moment. There’s something in his expression. It’s like he’s pleased that I asked. Maybe even a little impressed. Maybe he can tell that I genuinely actually care about him. My chest expands as he looks at me.

“Well if you ask me, you’re best out of it,” Mike says. “Sorry, mate!”

Ha. I really like this Mike guy. He’s a straight talker. I feel like he’d get on well with my dad.

“We’re just taking some time apart,” he protests, a little defensively. “Seeing how things go!” 

Mike scoffs. “Her idea I take it?”

Pete rolls his eyes and shakes his head. “Probably do you both some good, mate,” he reasons. So he’s the rational friend. Or maybe just the one who tells Ryan what he thinks he wants to hear. And not the honest truth. I guess that kind of thing is up to guys like me and Mike.

Ryan nods and briefly looks at me. Maybe just to see what my expression is doing now. Who knows. Nothing more is said about him and Katie.

But as the conversation goes to the bodybuilding show Ryan and Pete have just competed in, I suddenly start thinking about mine and Ryan’s conversation at his flat earlier in the week. The things I said about Katie. Asking him if she’s embarrassed about Ryan’s bodybuilding. The twatty fucking comment I made. She shouldn’t be going out with a bodybuilder then.

And I can’t help thinking - what if that’s what they’ve been arguing about? What if I put some thoughts into Ryan’s head? What if that’s the reason they've split up? Or “taking a break” (whatever the fuck that means). 

But now I’m thinking it, another voice comes into my head that’s saying,  “Don’t be so fucking stupid, Deano. Get a grip. As if you’re THAT fucking important to cause two people you barely know to break up.” 

On the ride back to Brighton, I end up sitting in the passenger seat of Ryan’s car, with Pete and Mike in the back. I think I pretty much spend the whole journey with a hard on. It’s just so fucking erotic to be sat so close to a bronzed up, competition conditioned bodybuilder fresh from competing at a show.

I keep looking over at his forearms, triceps and rock hard biceps peeking underneath the sleeve of his red t-shirt. I keep wondering whether he’s still wearing his shiny red posing trunks under his black trackies. 

Mike lives in Eastbourne, so Ryan drops him off first, then Pete not long after that. And now that it’s just me and Ryan. Jacked, shredded, bronzed Ryan. Who smells of competition tan. And may or may not have a pair of posing trunks wedged up the crack of his ridiculously huge glutes right now. 

And I can’t shake the feeling that pretty much from the second Pete left, the atmosphere completely changed. It’s almost like the car is holding its breath.

“Had a good day?” Ryan asks me. I look over at him. He’s got that weird look on his face that I’ve seen in this car before. Almost like he feels a bit nervous around me all of a sudden. 

“Mmmm!” I reply, suddenly feeling a little awkward. 

“Even though you’ve been to, like, a million bodybuilding expos before?” he says in a whiny voice, mocking me. 

I look at him and he’s got this mischievous smirk on his face. I smirk and roll my tongue around the inside of my cheek. 

“And you were forced to wear that Deano’s Gym t-shirt?”

The t-shirt I know I look fucking good in. I turn and look out of the side window so he doesn’t see me smiling so much. 

“Didn’t go for the Union Jack posing trunks then?” I ask after a short pause.

I turn to look at him and he’s smiling. “Nah!” Then our eyes suddenly meet and my chest flutters. “Changed my mind!”

When Ryan turns the car down my street I get this gutting feeling of disappointment in my stomach. He parks where he can, a few doors down from my house. He turns the engine off, the atmosphere shifting even more.

I suddenly get this weird aching feeling. Like there’s something I want. So, so badly. It feels equal parts awful and special.

“Sorry. About Katie,” I say, looking straight ahead and feeling a stab of nerves.

I can feel Ryan looking at me. “Why - what did you do?” he says. I turn and he’s giving me this cheeky, little smile.

I smile back and shrug. “Just … felt like the right thing to say!”

He bites his lip, still smiling. Then he turns away from me and his expression drops. And now he looks serious all of a sudden. I know he’s thinking about the Katie situation. I feel a sharp pinch in my chest. I hate seeing that look on Ryan’s face. I really fucking hate it. 

“We argue a LOT, D,” he says, still looking straight ahead.

And now I’m realising even more how stupid my earlier thoughts were Ryan and Katie taking this so-called break had anything to do with what I said at his flat earlier in the week.

“I think … this has been building up for a while!” he tells me. He finally looks at me, looking slightly less cut up.

I nod, not knowing what to say. It doesn’t really feel like I have to say anything though. I feel like just showing him that I’m interested, that I care, is enough. 

Ryan clears his throat. “Right!” he says, suddenly seeming more relaxed. “I know you haven’t had a drink or … a shot …”

I look at him and smirk. I know exactly what’s coming. His mouth curls wider into a mischievous grin.

“BUT - I am NOT letting you leave this time …”

I let out a little groan and tip my head back on to the headrest.

“... until you do a Sloth impression WITH the face!” 

“Fuck’s sake!” I groan, shaking my head and smirking.

“Come on! Why are you so embarrassed? It’s ME!” 

I look at Ryan. He’s looking back and smiling. That stupidly fucking handsome grin on his stupidly fucking handsome face. God - I like this guy so much. So, so fucking much.

“Okay, okay!” I say, giving in. I let out a deep sigh. I go to screw my face up but I can’t. I laugh and shake my head. Ugh. What am I so scared of? Fuck it. I can do this. 

I close my eyes and screw my face up. “Hey you guuuys!” I say, in the voice. I have no idea how stupid I looked or how shit that was, but Ryan’s laughing. And fucking beaming at me. Like he loved it. My insides are doing something weird again.

“See - that wasn’t so hard!”

I playfully roll my eyes. And now we’re just looking at each other. Our eyes locked. And it feels like it’s there more than ever. The atmosphere. That tension between us. The car is still holding its breath. 

Ryan’s eyes veer down to my chest. He’s looking at my body. I feel a sharp pinch of something. Then his eyes veer away and my heart drops a little.

“Fucking hell!” he suddenly exclaims, holding his forearm up. His huge, veiny, absurdly bronzed forearm. I suddenly get a waft of that competition tan scent again.

“This bloody tan!” Ryan exclaims. “I’m gonna be this colour for a fucking week now!”

I just smile. At least I think I do. I can’t seem to look away from his forearm.

“Lift your arm up!” Ryan orders. What the fuck? I do as he says, lifting my arm up so it’s level with his, feeling a weird pinch of something. And then … holy fucking SHIT … Ryan presses his forearm against mine. 

“Look at that!” he exclaims. 

Jesus. Holy fucking Jesus. Our arms are touching. They’re actually fucking touching. Ryan’s thick, veiny forearm is pushed up against my shorter, meaty forearm. His ridiculously bronzed skin contrasting with my much lighter, non-bronzed skin. I can feel the hardness and thickness of his arm muscle against mine. Skin on skin. Muscle on muscle. I literally feel like I’m going to explode.

I look up at Ryan’s face. He’s looking down at our touching forearms with this weirdly serious expression. He looks more nervous than ever. And then I realise - he’s not moving his arm. Ryan’s not taking his arm away from mine. What. The. Fuck?

And then his eyes veer up to my face and I swear my heart misses a beat. Because of Ryan’s expression. The way he’s looking at me. With this longing look on his face. And suddenly I know that none of it was in my imagination after all. The atmosphere. The tension. It’s all real. Because there really is something between us. Between me and stupidly good looking, Super Heavyweight bodybuilding champion demigod Ryan fucking North PT. 

I feel Ryan’s arm shift. My arm drops with his. And then … I feel his fingers touching mine. I look down. Ryan’s big fingers occupying the spaces in between mine. His hand now tightly gripping mine. His fingertips digging into the back of my hand. And holy. Fucking. Shit. We’re holding hands. I’m holding hands with Ryan North.

My brain is short-circuiting. This isn’t happening. This can’t be happening. Except it is. It really fucking is.

“Is this okay?” he asks in a gentle tone. He’s not looking at me. He’s looking down at our hands. Locked together. A perfect fit.

He finally looks up. That expression still on his face. Like he wants me. Like he wants me just as much as I want him. 

I nod in response. Unable to take my eyes away from his face. And I know that I’ll never forget this moment. That this will be a massive fucking dot on my timeline. Because someone finally likes me back. Ryan North actually likes me back. 

“Do you wanna stay at mine tonight?” he asks softly, giving my hand a harder squeeze. I don’t think I could let go of it even if I wanted to.

I bite my lip, breath a little sigh and nod. I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anything more. 

Ryan’s mouth curls into a little smile. I tip my head back against the headrest and close my eyes, feeling like my heart just exploded into a tiny million pieces.
 

Oh, you do know how to tease: ending a chapter like that

[BrzNLA]

Fantastic chapter Mate! I loved every single part of it, from beginning to the amazing sensitive cliffhanger.Your writing as always is phenomenal. I can’t wait to read the next chapter. Cheers!!
 

[JohnnyCoxx]

“Is this ok?” was soooo poignant!! Ryan seeming so awkward making that move

[muscleaddict]

Wow - thank you everyone for all the amazing comments on that last chapter! The last part with Deano and Ryan alone in his car is definitely one of my favourite parts of the whole story. I'll be posting the next one at the weekend. 

[MuscleJoe]

OOOOO.  MMMMMMMM.   GGGGGGG