m/m Deano, Again: A Muscle University Story (Deano Story 3)

[muscleaddict]

On 12/24/2021 at 12:56 AM, BrzNLA said:

Another great chapter mate as some of the possible dramas are resolved: Deano Sr. Is going to be ok and Shaun accepts Deano as he is. Now, I can’t wait for the next one . What will comes next? Ozzie, Adam or both? is the Bobybuilding Show? I can’t wait!!!

I can confirm Ozzie is back in the next one! 

On 12/24/2021 at 12:57 AM, BrzNLA said:

@muscleaddict Happy Holidays to you Mate and yours! Thanks for writing your stories and keep us entertained.

Bless you, mate. I hope you had a good one. And anyone else here who celebrated. 

[muscleaddict]

On 12/24/2021 at 1:16 AM, suske said:

Now I have one question, been bugging me. Why did Shaun go to such lengths of sleuthing to see where his mate was. Because if it was just because he was "jilted" for the weekend, he has been moody longer. 

I don't think he did, mate. I think he just saw Ozzie's post in his feed and curiosity got the better of him and he clicked on his friend, Ally's handle which was linked in the post. Or maybe Ozzie's post sparked some suspicion. Ozzie away in Manchester the same weekend Deano is away (supposedly in Bristol). Maybe in the back of his head he just knew. 

[muscleaddict]

Twenty Six

For the past few days, everywhere I’ve been, I’ve expected to run into Ozzie. At the gym. In the changing rooms. Suddenly walking around a corner, wearing his green Montgomery hoodie and black “Osman’s Gym” cap, chewing on gum like he doesn’t have a care in the world. 

He hasn’t even text me. Adam Lloyd has text me. Adam Lloyd, who I had sex with on Saturday. Adam Lloyd, who, against all odds, actually fucking likes me. Despite being way hotter than I am. And also despite what I did to Woody and Henderson last year. 

I keep thinking - would something have happened between us months ago if he hadn’t found out about the Facebook post? Would none of that stuff with Ozzie have happened if we had? I guess it’s impossible to say.

And then, on Wednesday night, it happens. I get a text message from Seth “Ozzie” Osman.

Yo. You still mad at me??

My stomach clenches as I look at the message. Ugh. I almost wish he hadn’t text. I’m not mad at him. Not really. But I also just don’t know what the fuck to say to him. Maybe I could just pretend to be mad so I don’t have to deal with things. I put my phone down and carry on with an essay for Digital Marketing and Social Media for Bodybuilders. I’ll reply to Ozzie in a bit. But “a bit” turns into hours. And then I go to bed. And by the time I wake up the next morning, I still haven’t replied to Ozzie’s text. 

When I turn up to my training session on Thursday, the last one before the end of term bodybuilding show, I almost feel shy when I spot Adam standing next to Walker. I knew he was back at Montgomery, but I didn’t know he’d be in this training session. Not for definite anyway. 

He seems a bit shy too. Which is actually pretty fucking cute. We exchange a few looks and grins. It’s like there’s this unspoken thing between us. That we had sex. That we like each other. That there’s something actually going on there. And Dave Walker has absolutely no fucking clue.

When we’ve finished training, Adam hangs back and asks me how my dad is. Is he about to ask me to go round to his room tonight? I mean - I definitely would. Even though I’ve got a shit ton of work to do. 

“So … what are you doing on Easter Monday?”

Okay. I wasn’t expecting that. 

“Erm … nothing. At the moment.”

Adam gives me this cute grin and nods. 

“Wanna hang out? You could come to Sandwich? I could show you the sights?” he says, pulling a face and smiling.

I bite my lip and smile back. “Or you could come to Brighton? Like we said?”

Adam tips his head back. “Thank God! You REALLY don’t wanna come to Sandwich!”

I bite my lip and grin. I spot Walker by himself over Adam’s shoulder. I think he’s getting ready to leave. “Ummm … I just need to ask Walker something. Sorry!”

“That’s cool!” Adam says, grinning at me.

“Oh, erm … are you staying for the end of term bodybuilding show on Saturday?”

Adam pulls a face. “Of course! I’m helping out backstage!”

I nod and grin and we say goodbye. My stomach tightens as I walk up to Walker.

“All right, Deano, mate?”

I nod. “Erm … I was just wondering, do you know if … ummm, Ozzie knows? About my dad?”

Walker frowns. “Well if he did, he didn’t hear it from me.”

I poke the inside of my cheek with my tongue and nod. 

“You not spoken to him?”

“Nah. Not yet.”

Walker nods. He’s got this ominous look on his face. “Thought you two were bezzie mates now?” 

He gives me a little grin and pats me on the shoulder and walks off. Okay - that was a bit weird. Does Walker suspect? Does Walker KNOW? Jesus. Will I ever stop being paranoid and thinking that everyone's about to out me to the whole fucking world of bodybuilding?

Okay - so Ozzie probably doesn’t know about my dad. I’m pretty sure he would have said something if he did. In fact, I know he would have. I should probably reply to his text when I get back to my room. After I’ve finished my essay. But I don’t reply. And I don’t reply the next day either. Which is why, on my way back from my last lesson of term with Shaun on Friday, when my phone pings in my pocket, I know straight away who it’s from. 

Are you ignoring me??

Fuck. I guess I should have seen that coming. And just as I’m thinking up a reply, another text comes through.

Come to mine.

Argh!

“Who’s that?” Shaun asks, frowning at my phone and leaning in to read the screen. Huh. He’s STILL being suspicious.

“No one!” I say, pulling my phone away. He gives me a look and I roll my eyes.

“Ozzie,” I say, flatly.

Shaun raises an eyebrow and gives me a mischievous smirk. I shake my head and ignore him. 

When he’s gone to the bathroom, and I’m left alone in the room, I reach for my phone to respond to Ozzie. Even though I don’t really know what the fuck to say.

I can’t tonight. Sorry. See you tomorrow at the show.

My stomach clenches as I look at the message. Fuck it. I hit send. But as soon I do, I feel a wave of regret. What the fuck am I doing? Ignoring Ozzie. Not giving him a proper reason for not wanting to see him. 

But on the other hand …  it’s not like my text was really rude or anything. I DID say I’d see him tomorrow. And things between us are just casual. Maybe I’m overthinking things. Maybe Seth “Ozzie” Osman doesn’t really give a shit that I’ve been ignoring him for the past few days. Or that I basically just blew him off after he invited me round to his. And maybe he wouldn’t give an ounce of a toss if he knew I’d had sex with Adam Lloyd last weekend in my bedroom back home in Brighton. 

I stare at my phone screen. My text to Ozzie staring back at me. Waiting for the three dots to appear to tell me that Ozzie’s replying back. But nothing happens. Nothing appears on my screen. No three dots. And no reply from Seth “Ozzie” Osman. I put my phone down. 

Maybe it’s better that he doesn’t reply. 

I always thought that I’d wake up on the morning of the end of term bodybuilding show feeling happy. Or at least excited. But I don’t feel either of those things. I feel weird. And nervous. Like today isn’t going to go well. Almost like something bad’s about to go down. 

I look at my phone. No reply or new text messages from Ozzie. I wonder what’s going through his head right now. He doesn’t know my dad had a heart attack last weekend. He doesn’t know Adam Lloyd drove me to Brighton. And that he stayed at my house. He doesn’t know that me and Adam Lloyd had sex. I suddenly feel this overwhelming stab of guilt. Am I doing Ozzie wrong here? Am I the bad guy in this scenario? 

Shaun stays in bed when I get ready for the show. He’s going over to the theatre with Baker and McLeod when it starts. I put my black Montgomery hoodie on. Even though it’s way too tight now, I can’t quite bring myself to upgrade it to a new one. I know it’s stupid, but I fucking love this hoodie. It feels kind of sentimental, I guess.

I call by Mafra and Ash’s room on the way to the theatre as we arranged. I have no idea if Shaun’s told them about his idea of competing as a Classic Physique guy. I can only imagine what Ash will say about that when he finds out. 

I feel a jolt of nerves when the three of us step into the backstage area behind the theatre. Wow. They’ve transformed it into a proper pump room. With tanning tents and everything. I knew the university did this for the end of term shows. But it’s still impressive to see it first hand. It’s not, like, McCarthy Classic levels of impressive, obviously. It’s missing a dozen of the world’s best bodybuilders for a start. But it’s still a pretty fucking cool set-up.

I glance around the room. Most of the second-year guys are here. Including a fully clothed Sebastian “Woody” Wood in his black vest and black ICON cap. Who’s talking to (yep) Adam Lloyd! Something unexpectedly twists in my stomach as I stand there watching Woody and Adam talking to each other. Maybe it’s because of how comfortable they look in each others company. Or maybe it’s because of how good they look together. I can’t help thinking how good of a couple they’d make. And a couple that makes way more sense than ME and Adam Lloyd.

My eyes drift around the room. There are a couple of third-year lads here already too. Even though they won’t be hitting the stage just yet. But there’s no sign of Ozzie. But then - I guess he IS late for everything, so it shouldn't really be a surprise that he’s not here yet.

When it’s my time to get tanned up, it surprises me how relieved I am when I’m put in the hands of a scary-looking shaved-headed third-year monster rather than Adam Lloyd, who’s tanning up Banksy two tents down. 

I think it’s just the idea of standing there in a pair of paper tanning posers right in front of Adam as he sprays me up in a room full of fellow students and teachers. Knowing what we did last Saturday night back in Brighton. I don’t know if my face would give something away. I don’t know who’d be watching me, wondering why I looked so awkward as Adam tanned up my pecs and abs. Maybe even noticing this weird, sexual tension between the two of us.

And now I’m fully tanned and pumping up with Mafra and Ash in my favourite maroon red posing trunks. My chest feels tight as I glance around the room again. There’s still no sign of Ozzie.

And the more time that passes without his appearance, the more anxious I start to feel. He should be here by now. Why isn’t he here yet? Maybe I should text him. 

But before I have the chance to contemplate that thought any further, Hancox calls for the second years to queue up to go on stage. Me, Ash and Mafra head over to Hancox. Somehow I end up standing right behind Woody. Because of course I fucking do. His huge arse cheeks blowing out of a pair of shiny lime green posing trunks which would make AJ Jones proud. My stomach pulls when he twists his ridiculously good looking head around and gives me a sort of awkward half-smile which kind of takes me aback.

And just as Hancox calls us to the stage and we start to move forward, I take one last look around and my heart jumps into my throat. Because there he is. Casually strolling in wearing that black tracksuit he often wears. Chewing on gum like he doesn’t have a care in the world. And with his mohawk dyed bright fucking blue! For fuck’s sake. I feel my heart pinch and I start to smile to myself. And just before I turn around again, Ozzie’s too big eyes meet mine. Just for a second.

When I come back off the stage, he’s unclothed, fully bronzed up (possibly by the guy I secretly shagged last weekend) and pumping up in a pair of shiny blue posers (presumably to co-ordinate with his new hair colour). Jesus. He looks just as incredible as he did at the McCarthy Classic. Perhaps even more so. Those tits looking thicker than ever. Those abs still uniquely shaped. Those arms just as gloriously swole as always. 

I feel a stab of nerves as I start to head towards him. I have no idea what I’m going to say to him.

“Deano!” Hancox barks. “Where are you going?” 

“Erm … just …,”

He shakes his head. “You’ve gotta stay here, mate. They’ll be calling you back on stage soon.”

I try to stop from rolling my eyes as I obey my lecturer and go back to the group. I’m annoyed because I’m pretty sure I’d be able to hear them calling my name if I moved a few yards away. The backstage area is not THAT big. But there’s also a part of me that’s relieved. And feels like I’ve just been saved from having to confront Ozzie.

And now I’m standing next to Mafra. I have this thought. To turn around and look at Ozzie. This voice in my head tells me not to do it. But I do so anyway. I turn around. And fuck. He’s looking right at me. His too big eyes are on mine. And my insides twist sharply. Because he looks weirdly serious. And that expression doesn’t change. And I know, at that moment, that Seth “Ozzie” Osman is pissed off at me. 

Is that because I ignored that text he sent me earlier in the week? Because I didn’t go round to his yesterday when he asked me to? Or - FUCK - is it because he knows about me and Adam Lloyd? My stomach lurches. No. I’m being paranoid. HOW would Ozzie know that I had sex with Adam? Only two people know about that. There’s no way he would have found out.

And now I’m being called on stage for my routine. And it’s a rush like it always is, but it’s like there’s this cloud hanging over me throughout the whole time I’m on stage. Because I can’t stop thinking about that look on Ozzie’s face.

And it’s still bothering me when I watch the others go up one by one to perform their posing routines, Ozzie now at the far end of the pump room, not looking over. And even when me and the other second-years are back on stage for the final comparisons and posedown, where no one ropes me into a show-stopping head to head most muscular that’s being watched by Brad McCarthy, I still have the image of Ozzie’s frosty expression in my head.

Johnny Hoxton starts announcing the results and distributing the awards. Banksy places fifth, which he doesn’t seem too happy about. Woody is in fourth. And then it’s me. I’m a little disappointed, but I guess it was to be expected. I just can’t compete with Mafra and Ash’s height and size. 

When I come off stage, that familiar buzz of competing is there as always. But something else suddenly overpowers it. Because this is it. This is my chance to speak to Ozzie.

He’s standing by himself, playing with his phone. My stomach churns as I approach him. Because I have no idea what I’m walking into. Or what’s about to happen.

He looks a little startled when he looks up. Like he wasn’t expecting me to approach him.

“All right,” he says to me, straight-faced. His tone is so fucking flat. There’s no question about it. Ozzie’s DEFINITELY pissed off at me.

“All right,” I say back. I hate how nervous my voice sounds. 

And now Ozzie's just glaring back at me. Like he’s telling me how pissed off he is with his too big eyes. His gaze falls to my third-place trophy and he nods. “Congratulations!” he says, still in that flat fucking tone.

“Ummm. Cheers.”

Ugh. I HATE this. How awkward and weird things are between us.

“Phone working alright?” he asks.

Fuck.

“Yeah?!” I say, defensively.

“You haven’t been replying to my texts.”

“I text you last night!” 

That’s such a crap response. I know it is. I KNOW I’m in the wrong here. I’ve been avoiding and ignoring Ozzie all week. And now he’s calling me out for it.

But before Ozzie has a chance to reply, Hancox calls for the third-years to queue up for the stage.

“Gotta go,” he says, still in that flat tone. Then he starts to head off.

“Are you mad at me?”

He stops and spins around. “What would I be mad about, Little Dude?” he says, with a wide-eyed shrug. Then he goes to queue up with Keiran, Connell and the other third-year monsters. And now I’m left standing here, my stomach churning. Wondering when things between me and Seth “Ozzie” Osman got so fucking messy. A few weeks ago we were holding each other’s hands in a bar in Manchester. And now THIS. 

And now I’m suddenly being pulled from my thoughts. Because someone in a pair of shiny lime green posing trunks looking slightly hesitant is walking RIGHT up to me.

And before I know it, a bronzed and pumped up Sebastian “Woody” Wood is standing next to me. Towering over me like he always did. What. The. Actual. Hell?

“He’s a bit of a character!” he says, nodding towards where Ozzie is now standing, with the other bronzed third-years.

I roll my tongue around the inside of my mouth and nod. Not quite believing that this is happening right now. And Ozzie’s frosty demeanour and flat tone of voice on my mind. 

“Yep!” 

That’s all I can muster up in response.

“Congrats, by the way.” 

Okay. Is this some kind of joke? I cautiously look over at Woody. He’s biting his lip gently. He seems genuine. Is he trying to make amends with me?

“You too,” I say, awkwardly nodding at Woody’s fourth-place trophy. He pulls a face. I can’t tell if it means he’s not impressed with his placing, or whether he just doesn’t care.

“How was Chicago?” Woody asks.

I nod. “Pretty awesome,” I tell him. My chest feels lighter somehow. 

“We watched the live stream.”

I presume by “we” he means him and Luke. 

“Nice head to head most muscular,” he says. I swallow and look at him. He’s giving me this little smirk. I playfully roll my eyes. “Mmmm. I was kinda roped into that!”

He smiles down at me. God - will this guy ever NOT be absurdly good looking? I feel like he’ll just become even more so as he gets older. And then he’ll just stop ageing. So when he’s in his fifties, he’ll still look thirty. Like a bodybuilding version of Paul Rudd. And I’ll just look like my dad. Bald fucking head and everything.

Woody clears his throat. “Look, Deano - what happened before Chicago. Adam finding out. I really didn't do it on purpose. He asked me if you were the one who did the post. And I didn’t wanna lie.”

I swallow and nod. “I know.”

"I never would have told him otherwise."

I chew on my lip, thinking back to what Adam told me on the drive to his photoshoot in Glasgow. That Woody went to Adam after I confronted him and helped Adam to understand why I did the whole Facebook post thing.

“Adam says you two are hanging out over Easter?”

What the - “Ummm. Yeah.”

Woody nods with this mischievous tight-lipped smile.

“Maybe we could all go to Glasgow?" Woody says lightly. “After Easter.”

Jesus. Another awkward night out with Woody, Luke and Adam. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad this time. Maybe I’d actually end up having a good time. 

“Mmmm. Could do,” I say, trying to sound enthusiastic but not really pulling it off.

“Then Luke can spend the whole night checking out your arse.”

What the - I look at Woody. He’s giving me this cheeky smirk. I roll my eyes and poke my cheek with my tongue, completely failing not to smirk like mad.

And then I catch someone looking at us. Mike Hancox. He's glaring at us with his eyebrows furrowed. This expression on his face, like he’s totally confused as to why two people who once seemed to hate each other so much are now stood talking to each other and exchanging smirks.

Then he just pulls a face and shakes his head like he’s given up on trying to figure out whatever the hell is going on between me and Sebastian “Woody” Wood. I think I’ve officially given up on trying to figure that out too.

I head out with Ash and Mafra to watch the rest of the show, where Ozzie is as typically cocky as always. I feel almost sheepish watching him on stage. Blowing up the biceps I’ve wrapped my arms around. Flexing and bouncing the thick striated pecs I’ve spunked over. I also feel this unexpected sense of Pride, especially when he beats that prick Keiran to second place. But the whole thing’s tinged with this slight sadness. That things have changed. That things aren’t right between us. 

Is our conversation backstage going to be the last one we have before I go home for Easter tomorrow? And what then? What the hell happens when we both come back to university next term? I hate this. I actually fucking hate it.

I’m thinking about the whole thing as I’m leaving Ash and Mafra before we meet up at the SU bar later. And I’m thinking about it when me and a never-looked-paler Shaun are heading back to our dorm room.

As soon as I open the door to our room, my heart jumps into my throat. Because there's something lying on my bed.

“What’s this?!” I ask Shaun.

“Oh yeah. Ozzie dropped it off this morning. After you’d left. He said you’d left it at his?” 

WHAT THE FUCK?

“I didn’t know you had a blue hoodie?”

I pick up the item of clothing from my bed. It’s a brand new bright blue Montgomery University hoodie. A size up from my old one. 

“Erm … yeah. I just bought it,” I lie, failing to hide my smile as I hold the soft hoodie in my hands. My chest is swelling. My mind is racing. I can’t believe Ozzie did this for me. I can’t believe he bought me a new hoodie.

And all of a sudden, I need to see him. I need to go round to his room right now.

When I’m standing at the door to Seth “Ozzie” Osman’s dorm room ten minutes later, my stomach is in fucking knots. I have no idea what’s about to happen. Is he going to be as cold and frosty with me as he was in the makeshift pump room earlier?

I’m about to find out. Because the door to Ozzie’s room is opening, and before I know it, he’s standing right in front of me. His cute bad boy face right there. Now absurdly bronzed. His thick muscle bulging underneath his green Montgomery University hoodie. His bright blue dyed mohawk looking ridiculous. But so Ozzie. 

I feel a familiar pinch of excitement to be standing in front of him. To just be with him. And to be here. At his dorm room. Even though he’s looking at me with this weary expression on his face. I can tell he’s surprised to see me. He doesn’t look unpleased about it though. I'm confident of that at least.

“All right,” I say.

He furrows his eyebrows slightly and nods. “All right,” he says, cautiously.

I poke my cheek with the tongue. “Thanks for the hoodie!”

His eyes fall to my chest, even though I’m not wearing said hoodie. Should I have worn the hoodie?

“You needed a new one,” he says, flatly, with a little shrug.

Jesus. I’m starting to think that maybe Ozzie is just as stubborn as I am. And yet, he's definitely not being as cold with me as he was earlier.

“You gonna let me in then?” 

He pulls a slight face, moves away from the door and sits down on his bed with his back against the wall. I take that as an invite and close his door behind me.

I clear my throat as I sit down on his bed. Things still feel awkward between us.

“You were right,” I say, my stomach twisting. “I was kind of ignoring you.”

Ozzie raises an eyebrow. “No shit,” he says flatly. And now he’s glaring at me.

“I wasn’t really … doing it on purpose.”

Ozzie furrows his eyebrows, slightly.

“I mean, like … I dunno. I wasn’t really thinking. I just had, like, some stuff on.”

Ozzie nods and looks down like he doesn’t really believe me.

I bite my lip. “I had to go home last weekend.”

Ozzie twists his head up sharply. “How come?” he asks, surprised.

“Ummm. Well, I didn’t HAVE to go home. But, well … my dad sort of had a heart attack.”

“Holy shit!” Ozzie cries, leaning forward. I’m kind of surprised at how much he seems to care. But I’m also kind of not. I almost start smiling because of his reaction.

“Is he alright?” 

“Yeah. He’s gonna be fine. Just … needs to look after himself more.”

“Shit!” Ozzie says. He still seems a little guarded, but the frosty exterior has slipped. “Deano - why didn’t you tell me?”

He seems genuinely surprised that I didn’t. I shrug. “I dunno. Just … well, you know … we had that thing in the changing rooms.”

Ozzie chews on the inside of his cheek and nods.

“I think I was a bit of a dick to you,” I confess. “That day.”

The corner of Ozzie’s mouth starts to curl into a smile. I suddenly feel lighter. Like a weight's been lifted.

“Your roommate found out about you. I get why you were pissed. I told Ally to take down the post, by the way. How is the whole Shaun thing?” he asks, his expression turning serious again. “Is he being alright with you?”

I bite my lip and nod. Then I tell him about Shaun and me making up when I got back from Brighton. About how he was more just pissed off that I’d kept the fact that I was into guys a secret from him for so long.

“I hate your hair, by the way,” I tease. 

Ozzie’s mouth curls into a smirk. 

“You look like a twat,” I say, smirking back. He lightly kicks my foot with his. God - it feels so good to be doing this with Ozzie. Things actually feel okay again. Then Ozzie’s expression suddenly falls.

“I just … I HATE it when guys play games, Deano. I told you what that Tom guy did to me.”

I nod. “I know,” I say, feeling a stab of guilt.

"Sorry. I should've just text you back."

Ozzie playfully rolls his eyes and smirks, like he's forgiven me. “How long were you back home?”

“Erm. Until Monday.”

Ozzie nods. “Wasn’t there a big train strike on at the weekend?”

Oh my fucking God. I feel a sharp panic.

“Erm. Yeah.”

Ozzie’s looking at me, looking slightly confused. I could lie. I could say I got a replacement coach. But something stops me. Maybe I’m just done with lying.

“I got a lift," I say, my stomach clenching sharply.

Ozzie screws his face up. “A lift? From who?”

Fucking. Hell.

“Adam Lloyd?” My voice sounds weird and nervous. I know it does.

“Big Ears? Where was HE going?”

Maybe I should have just lied.

I shrug. “Nowhere.”

“Okay?” Ozzie says, still looking baffled.

“He just … well, first he drove me to Glasgow. Then the guy at the station told me I might be able to get a train from Birmingham so he drove me there. And then he just … ended up driving me all the way.”

Ozzie pulls a face. "He drove you ALL the way to Brighton?"

Fuck. I know how this is starting to sound. I just nod.

"That's mad!" Ozzie cries. He still looks confused by the whole thing. And he’s clearly bothered. “I just … don’t get why he’d do that? Drive you all that way?”

I don't respond. And now Ozzie's just looking at me. Like his mind is ticking over.

“Is there something going on? Between you and Adam Lloyd?”

Fucking hell. Did he really just ask me that? How the fuck am I supposed to reply?

“No!” I reply, defensively, without even thinking.

Ozzie frowns. Like he doesn’t believe me.

“Deano?”

“Okay! Something ... happened," I confess, trying to sound light, even though my insides are twisting. "Like … once.”

And I know from Ozzie's expression, that he isn't going to take this well. That this is NOT going to be okay.

“You had sex with him?" he says, matter-of-factly. 

I nod. Something flickers in Ozzie's face. He's clearly not just pissed off. He looks genuinely hurt.

"What the fuck, Deano? So what does that mean?”

I honestly don’t know what the fuck it means. I didn't even know how Ozzie was going to react to this. But then - if I'm being truly honest with myself, maybe I did. Maybe that's why I've been avoiding him this past week. Because, deep down, I knew I'd done Ozzie wrong. Deep down, I knew this wasn't going to be okay.

“I don’t know!” I reply, honestly. "It wasn't planned. It just ... sort of happened."

Ozzie's just glaring at me like his mind is ticking away again. “Do you LIKE him?”

I swallow hard. And then I give him a pathetic shrug. And Ozzie turns stony faced again.

“So what the FUCK have we been doing the past month?” he spits.

“I don't know, Ozzie! I just thought … we were, like, messing around?”

Ozzie scoffs. Now he looks really fucking pissed. “Messing around? That’s all it was?”

“I dunno! Yes?”

He shakes his head. “That’s bullshit! You DO know, Deano. You KNOW it was more than that!”

My stomach clenches sharply. Is this really happening? It doesn't feel real.

“What are you so afraid of, Deano? Your mates finding out? What they’ll think of me?”

"No!" I say, my face screwed up.

“So that’s it? You’re just gonna go and shag Adam Lloyd now?”

I roll my eyes. “You’re ... overreacting! I've slept with him once. And ... you and me aren't together.”

I know how that sounds. I know it’s the wrong thing to say. Even though it’s true.

He swallows. “You’re right. We’re NOT together.”

“I didn’t say I wanted THIS to stop!"

Ozzie rolls his tongue around the inside of his cheek. Like he's trying to figure out what to say next.

“Alright. So … tell me how you feel about me," he says matter-of-factly.

My chest tightens. “What?!”

“Come on. If you don’t want this to stop, tell me why.”

I pull a face like it's a stupid question. “Because!" I cry.

“Because what, Deano?”

I’m starting to feel pissed off. “We have fun!”

“We have fun? That’s it? Why can’t you just admit that you like me?”

“You’re being ridiculous!” I say defiantly.

Ozzie glares at me. "Am I?" he says flatly.

He shakes his head. “Have a good Easter, Little Dude,” he says, standing up and going to the door before opening it.

"You're throwing me out?" 

But Ozzie doesn't respond. He just glares at me from his door. For fuck’s sake. I shake my head, stand up from his bed and leave. 

As I walk away from his room, my stomach starts to churn. Ozzie’s hurt face is imprinted on my mind. Fuck. What am I doing? A part of me wants to go back. Wants to fix what just happened. But I don’t. Something stops me. So I just keep walking away. 

And I can't help thinking, that in some weird, fucked up way, this feels right. Because I found something good. I had something with Seth "Ozzie" Osman. And now it's all gone to shit and ended disastrously. Just like it did with Sebastian "Woody" Wood. And Ryan North PT. And Harry the Bouncer.

Somehow I've managed to completely fuck things up again. Just like I always fucking do. 

[Tin]

Deano can be such an asshole, why does he always put himself in a corner?

[S01]

1 hour ago, Chev said:

Deano can be such an asshole, why does he always put himself in a corner?

I don't think he's an arsehole, he's just socially inept and insecure. From the story, Seth is not clear about his intentions either. It's clear that Dean and Seth are not on the same page with regard to their relationship, no shit as that involves talking, difficult when all you do is the squechly and send an occasional text. 

Then again they're young and resilliant and if Sebastian and Dean can become friends, there's still hope for Dean and Seth. 

But yeah Dean is a twat. A lovely insecure big arsed twat that has no idea that he's quite a catch ( for whomever ropes him in).

That's how I read it at least. Give it to a great writer that we all have our own ideas about a story. Yeah that's praise to you MuscleAddict. Don't let it go to either of your heads, still want some more awesome chapters (even the few you promise us) and new tales of these Intrepid future IFBB pro's and their mischief.

[DarkLord]

Ah, Deano ruined everything again. I liked Ozzy more than Adam, although this is my personal opinion)) Deano, finally, we need to figure out what he wants and move in this direction to the end.

[Kons]

1 hour ago, suske said:

I don't think he's an arsehole, he's just socially inept and insecure. From the story, Seth is not clear about his intentions either. It's clear that Dean and Seth are not on the same page with regard to their relationship, no shit as that involves talking, difficult when all you do is the squechly and send an occasional text.

I do agree with this especially with someone like Deano who is inexperienced. Its hard to pinball the relationship when it all starts as a casual sex than later develop to a more routine sex. Seth and Deano def has miscommunication between them. In which Seth want to go further but Deano is unsure about his feeling.

Hoping whatever Deano decide it will be clear among all parties. Who know this could be a fun talk between the 3 of them in the future

[WashburnDaddy]

yes, I think the thing that makes it so believable, esp for me, it that much as you'd like to scream "stop being SUCH a twat Deano!" at the screen - I sort of know the agonising insecurities I went through 'coming out' - all the things that held me back, all the 'wrong steps' I took at the time even when I sometimes knew they were 'wrong' - just still so uncertain as to who I was and what was happening to me. It's that oscillation between different aspects of his personality that are what makes Deano 'Deano' and capturing that really does come through in Mr Author's writing and characterisation.

[brawnygods]

So I don't know who Deano will, or should, end up with but if it's Seth, the make-up sex is gonna wake the neighbors.

 

Seriously, though, the set-up is doubly intense--on the Adam side, you've got approval from his family, you've got couples-outings with Sebastian and Woody, you've got jug ears and good looks.  But on the Ozzie side, you've got an animal connection between these two brutes that really can't be denied.  And the sight of them together, pushing each other in the gym, cutting up in public, bouncing on each other in bed like a couple of gorillas before cuddling up in a sweaty pile.  There's a lot to recommend being with Adam but how can you compete with gorilla time?

[Kons]

Who know maybe adam during competition time is a gorilla too