Muscle Lads, Inc.

[MuscleJoe]

Oooooo. And everyone was worried about poor Jason if he finds out. Alfie has bigger issues.  

[muscleaddict]

24 minutes ago, MuscleJoe said:

Oooooo. And everyone was worried about poor Jason if he finds out. Alfie has bigger issues.  

I actually just received the following text message from Deano...

"Can someone tell this Alfie person to get a grip? Does his dad hit him over the head with a rolled-up newspaper? Nope. Does his dad make him work the Juice Bar all day when he's got a massive hangover? Erm. Nope. Is he going out with some bloke named Terry? Well no, he’s going out with a bloke called Kevin but you get the point.”

[BrzNLA]

On 9/18/2023 at 1:20 PM, muscleaddict said:

I actually just received the following text message from Deano...

"Can someone tell this Alfie person to get a grip? Does his dad hit him over the head with a rolled-up newspaper? Nope. Does his dad make him work the Juice Bar all day when he's got a massive hangover? Erm. Nope. Is he going out with some bloke named Terry? Well no, he’s going out with a bloke called Kevin but you get the point.”

Thank you for that! This is just awesome!

[muscleaddict]

22 hours ago, BrzNLA said:

Thank you for that! This is just awesome!

I wonder what Deano would think of Danny if he met him? That could be interesting!

Next chapter is coming up. This is where the alternating points of view format gets shaken up a little because we're sticking with Alfie. Chapters 20 & 21 are then back-to-back Nick chapters.

[muscleaddict]

NINETEEN

ALFIE

I'm standing at the front door of Curtis Mayhew's flat in East Didsbury for the first time. This rush of adrenaline is coursing through me. I'm excited, not just to see Curtis as I always am, but also for some reason, to see the inside of Curtis' flat. To see what his bedroom looks like. The place where so many of his awesome, cheeky, funny Instagram DM's to me have no doubt been written and sent.

I feel a sharp jolt of excitement as the front door swings open. And there he is. Sweet, adorable Curtis Mayhew. My favourite messaging buddie ever. Smiling and looking pleased to see me, but also looking slightly awkward. He doesn’t seem quite as relaxed as he usually is. Maybe he’s just nervous about the fact that I'm coming around to his flat for the first time.

He looks ... I dunno, kind of nicer than normal too. I think it's the first time I've ever seen him in a t-shirt. I’m surprised at how meaty his arms are.

“Okay - first things first," I say, stepping into the flat. I'm in Curtis Mayhew's flat! "I’m a little bit tipsy. So … you’re gonna have to drink something to catch up with me.”

Curtis furrows his eyebrows slightly. “Erm … okay. I have wine, I think?”

“That works!” I say, grinning at Curtis as he leads me into his kitchen. “Wait - where’s the yellow woolly jumper?”

Curtis laughs as grabs a bottle of wine and fetches two glasses from one of the cupboards. “You’re obsessed. And it’s not that woolly!”

I’m obsessed with YOU, I think. Wait - where the fuck did that come from?

“This feels … very sophisticated,” I say, taking one of the unusually big wine glasses from Curtis. “Is this how mega-rich world-famous children’s authors get pissed?”

"I wouldn't know," Curtis says, sheepishly smiling and taking his first swig of wine. I notice his eyes keep glancing down at my arms and pecs. I kind of get the feeling Curtis quite likes my tight red polo shirt.

As I follow Curtis to his room, I ask him who he lives with and he tells me he has a flatmate called Maddy who’s currently not home. And now I’m in Curtis' modest-sized bedroom. With it's pale green walls. I immediately spot a bookcase which holds more books than I've ever read. His bedroom also weirdly smells like him.

“So, where have you been?" he asks, sitting down on his bed. "And how come you’re tipsy in the middle of the afternoon?” 

“Just … my dad’s house. Birthday thing,” I say casually, scanning his bedroom. There’s a bunch of photos stuck to one of the walls. I edge closer to get a better look. A lot of them are Curtis with various friends. They all look so … nice. I smile as I look at the photos of him looking so happy with his friends. But then, out of nowhere, I get a weird pang of something. I’m not sure it’s so much jealousy. More some weird desire. To be a part of whatever I'm looking at.

“Oh right," Curtis says. "What’s he like? Your dad?"

I feel a slight tug in my stomach at Curtis' question. And then my eyes widen when I spot something on his chest of drawers. I gasp and pick it up.

“Is this your book?” I ask, ignoring his question. I look over at Curtis perched on his bed. He gives me a sheepish tight-lipped grin and nods at me.

“SO fucking cool!” I say, tracing a finger over the name CURTIS MAYHEW in big bold letters on the cover. I open it up and scan the first few pages.

“This book is dedicated to anyone who isn’t afraid to be different,” I read aloud. I’m smiling so much. “I love that.”

Curtis gives me another bashful little grin, blushing slightly and looking a little awkward.

“Can I borrow this?” I ask, waving the book at him.

"Erm. Yeah. If you want!" Curtis replies, looking both surprised and flattered.

I take a swig of Curtis' wine from my monster-sized glass and look down at Curtis, sitting on his bed in his white t-shirt, light blue jeans and green socks with his back propped up against the wall. 

“Budge up, then!” I say, even though there's plenty of room for me on his double bed. He awkwardly shifts to his left a bit anyway and I crash down on his bed next to him. His body is a few inches away from mine. His normal-sized legs stretched out on the mattress next to my thick thighs stretching the denim of the skinny jeans my little brother thinks look ridiculous.

Things suddenly feel, I dunno ... different. It's like the atmosphere in the room has suddenly changed. I look over at Curtis. He looks kind of flustered. And a little bit awkward. We lock eyes and his mouth curls into a little grin, that's almost kind of shy. I guess this is a first for him. Having a competitive bodybuilder like me sitting next to him on his bed as he bulges out of a tight red polo shirt. 

"Anyway, I didn't know you could read," Curtis teases.

My mouth drops open in shock and Curtis mischievously grins at me. I grin back and gently nudge his elbow with mine. 

"Cheeky git! Maybe I wanna look at the pictures."

Curtis bites his lip, still grinning happily. I'm still impressed with his meaty little arms. I know he goes to the gym, but still. His upper arms are smooth, but he has this thin layer of blonde hair covering each forearm. 

“I still can’t believe I’m friends with someone who has a book out!”

Curtis sheepishly grins and rolls his eyes slightly.

"I can't believe I'm friends with a bodybuilder!"

I make a "GRRRR!" noise and Curtis grins and shakes his head.

“Ever thought about writing a book about a bodybuilder?”

Curtis laughs. “Yeah - I have actually! I don’t think there’d be much of a market for it, though."

"Why not?" I cry.

Curtis pulls a face. "Shredded lads in shiny posers? It’s a bit ... niche, isn’t it?”

“Mmmm,” I say, wrinkling my nose. Like I know anything about book publishing! “Maybe you can be the one to bring it to the mainstream?”

Curtis grins. 

“Seriously - a book about a short-arsed bodybuilder with a big Instagram following. Maybe, oooh, I dunno, one who wears novelty socks and has pixie ears? I’d read it!”

Curtis playfully screws his face up. “Mmmm. I’m not sure people would warm to that character.”

I bark out a laugh and reach for my wine glass on his bedside table. 

“Anyway, what would happen in it?" Curtis says.

“I don't bloody know!" I cry. "You’re the world-famous, mega-rich author! Think of something.”

Curtis clears his throat. "Well ... we'd need to give him a problem. Some kind of dilemma. To drive the story forward. Every protagonist needs one.”

I laugh before I stop myself. How about the bodybuilder finds out his dad secretly moonlights as a drag queen? I'm not quite brave enough to suggest that though.

"Hmmm. How about ..." I gasp dramatically. "I've got it. He orders some trunks from the Internet. But there's some kind of mix-up with the order. And when the trunks arrive ..." I pause for dramatic effect. "They're the NON-shiny kind!"

Curtis laughs. "Is that pretty much the worst thing that could ever happen to you?"

"Umm ... YES!" I cry, with my eyes widened. Curtis is beaming at me. And now we're just looking at each other grinning. 

“Can I ask you a question?” I say.

A flicker of nerves washes over Curtis' face. "Sure ..." he says, cautiously.

“When did this whole thing start? You know. You liking ... shredded lads in shiny posers?”

Curtis bites his lip. I get the sense he really likes this question. “Have you ever watched Beauty and the Beast? The old Disney cartoon?”

I laugh. “Oh God. Don’t tell me. Gaston?”

“Yep!" Curtis says, almost proudly. "There were other things too, I guess. Just like little things on TV. Muscle guys popping up in films. Remember the scene in Twins where Arnie takes his shirt off in the supermarket?"

I laugh. "Of course!"

I don't tell Curtis that I actually really loved that scene too.

"And then one day I typed the word “bodybuilder” into Google and ... the world as I knew it was never the same again,” he says dramatically.

I laugh and reach for my wine glass again.

“Have you ever been to a bodybuilding show?”

“Nope!”

I gasp. “Come with me to Nick and Danny's show next Saturday!" I say, my chest expanding.

Curtis bites his lip and winces. "I can't next Saturday."

My heart drops. "Oh."

"I’m, erm … in Liverpool,” he says, a little sheepish. Like maybe he’s hiding something? 

"What's in Liverpool?"

 Curtis swallows. "Just ... a friend lives up there."

I nod. “Well, that's shit. Well ... I’ll take you to one. A bodybuilding show!”

This cute sheepish grin creeps across Curtis’ face.

“I might even be able to sneak you backstage! Perks of being friends with a bodybuilder!”

He bites his lower lip. “I don't think I'd know where the hell to look!”

I laugh. “Unless that is, you'd prefer to go to a bodybuilding show with your new boyfriend,” I say, casually.

Curtis looks at me confused. Like he's forgotten his little plan with my flatmate.

“Nick!” I say with a shrug.

Curtis nods and smirks. “We’re hardly boyfriends,” he says, trying to keep up the pretence.

“Well, not yet,” I say, playing along. “But you know … you guys get on SO well. I mean, Nick talks about you ALL the time.”

Curtis' lips curl into an ominous grin. He looks a little suspicious.

“Oh. And then there’s the picture of you he's pinned to the fridge door. I think it's really admiral that you're giving Nick a chance even though the last guy he dated had him arrested for stalking.”

Curtis laughs. “Stalking?" he says sceptically, with an eyebrow raised.

"Yep. He's known for it, our Nick."

"Riiiight," Curtis says, nodding his head.

"You haven't heard any strange noises in the night, have you? The sound of someone maybe rifling through your bins?"

Curtis laughs. "You're a nutter."

"Maybe so. And YOU'RE a little fucking piss taker!"

Curtis' mouth hangs open in shock. "Why?!"

"Why?” I scoff. “Oh yeah - me and Nick get on REALLY well!" I say, in a mocking tone. "Let's get Alfie back for having the audacity to set us up on a date by pretending to like each other."

"Nick told you?" he says, grinning.

"Yep! I dunno, Curtis. I mean … you have this obsession with bodybuilders and I literally hand you a bodybuilder who’s sweet and gay and doesn’t look like Sloth from The Goonies on a plate and you’re not interested."

Curtis is smiling and looking all flustered like he doesn't know what to say.

"Don’t tell me. He’s not big enough for you?”

Curtis screws his face up. “No! It’s not that!”

“What is it then?”

Curtis' eyes widen. He's got this flustered, kind of confused look on his face. He locks eyes with me. I'm waiting for an answer, but nothing comes. And now ... things suddenly seem kind of awkward. Like there's this weird tension in the room.

“You don’t have a secret boyfriend in Liverpool, do you?” I joke. My chest suddenly tightens as I wait for Curtis' reply.

“No," he says softly, lazily rolling his eyes.

I smile back at him, and the room relaxes a little. "So ...what’s wrong with Nick?”

Curtis sighs. “There’s nothing WRONG with him! There just ... wasn’t really a spark."

There's an awkward pause.

"Okay," I say, reaching for my almost empty wine glass.

"It was more of a friends vibe, I guess. Anyway - I’m pretty sure he’s not interested in ME either.”

I scoff into my glass. “Well … he’s an idiot,” I say. The words have left my mouth before I have time to think about it. And now I can’t take them back. Fuck! I feel a sharp panic.

Curtis isn't responding. My comment is hanging in the air. I put my glass down and cautiously look at him. He's got this look on his face. He looks surprised. Almost bewildered. But I can tell that comment flattered him. I can tell it meant something to him. 

“So …” I say, mostly to diffuse the tension. “Come on then. How big was the biggest bodybuilder you’ve ever been with?” I say. I look over at Curtis with a mischievous grin.

He looks back at me confused, his eyebrows raised. "What do you mean?"

I laugh. "I mean - how big was the biggest bodybuilder you've ever ... you know ... pulled in Canal Street, or met on a dating app, bought back here and, you know, shagged his brains out or whatever?" 

Curtis laughs. “Ummm … are you being serious right now?”

I pull a face. “Are we not good enough mates to talk about that kind of stuff? I AM open-minded, you know!”

Just not about my dad being a drag queen.

“I mean, half of my mates are gay at this point!”

“No. I didn’t mean that. It’s just …” Curtis suddenly looks sheepish. “You think I’ve actually been with a bodybuilder?”

“Erm … I mean. Yeah? Why? Haven’t you?”

Curtis grins at me. “Well, you don’t exactly get many gay bodybuilders walking around Canal Street!”

“Oh right! Yeah. I guess … they are harder to find," I say, suddenly feeling a bit stupid. "But, I mean, gay bodybuilders. They're definitely around!”

Curtis looks at me sceptically. "Yeah, but the ones I know of definitely wouldn’t be interested in me!”

I frown at him. "Why not?"

"Because muscle attracts muscle. It's like, a gay rule."

I screw my face up. "Bollocks. You just haven’t met the right one."

I lock eyes with Curtis. He's just looking at me. Not saying anything. His face is kind of serious all of a sudden.

"The next time Jason Fox is single - I’m setting you up!”

But as I say the words, I feel almost guilty, because I know that that would never work. Because I know that Jason Fox wouldn't be interested in a guy like Curtis. Maybe there's some truth in what Curtis is saying. That muscle attracts muscle.

But still - the suggestion obviously makes Curtis feel something. He gently bites his lips and offers up a shy smile. But then he looks away from me and something serious flickers across his face. He looks serious again. Without thinking, I nudge Curtis' foot with mine, our feet briefly touching.

He looks back up at me, surprised and smiling. "What?!" he says, with a little laugh.

I pull a face and shrug. I want to ask him if he's okay but I can't quite say it.

“Okay. Let me rephrase my question. How big was the biggest MUSCLE LAD (not bodybuilder) you’ve ever been with?”

Curtis does a half-laugh, half-scoff and rolls his eyes.

"What?!" I cry.

"I've ... never really been with a guy like that!"

"You're kidding?"

"Muscle guys in general just DON'T go for me! Like I said - muscle attracts muscle.”

I furrow my eyebrows at Curtis. “So let me get this straight - you have this Instagram account where you post all of these pictures and videos of bodybuilders and you don't even know what a flexed bicep feels like?”

"Ummm ..." Curtis pulls a face as if to say no. His cheeks have gone a little flushed.

“Well … that’s just ridiculous.” I sit up. “Give me your hand.”

Curtis’ face is a picture. He looks so confused. This rush of excitement and nerves courses through me as I hold my hand out and reach for Curtis’. And now Curtis' hand is in mine. His hands are so soft. I feel a spark go through me. I know this is doing something to Curtis. I know his mind is exploding right now. But I’m feeling things too. Mostly, this incredible fucking rush of adrenaline. 

I clear my throat, stretch out my arm and place Curtis’ hand so it’s firmly planted around my right upper arm. His palm and fingers touching my skin. I clench my fist. And then - in one swift motion, I bring my arm up into a single flex and the biceps muscles in my right arm are exploding underneath Curtis’ fingers. 

Curtis audibly gasps. I look at his face, mouth dropped open, eyes widened. His cheeks are red. He looks awe-struck as he feels the fully flexed biceps of one of his favourite bodybuilders.

I squeeze again and give in to this unexpected urge to grunt.

“Fuck!” Curtis gushes. We lock eyes and his mouth breaks into a smile. 

What. A. Fucking. Rush! I can’t explain it. But flexing my biceps while Curtis grips onto the hard, flexed muscles. Seeing his face. Hearing his reaction. It’s like no other high I’ve experienced.

I stretch my arm out flat again, then bring it back up into another flex. Curtis looks like he’s ascended to heaven. I’m also rock fucking hard. Why the fuck am I rock hard?

I bring my arm down and Curtis loosens his grip. Without even thinking, I grab his hand again and plant it on my right upper arm. Then I take the other hand and place it on my left upper arm and straighten my back up. And now with my fists together, I’m squeezing into a most muscular. My biceps popping. My chest tightening. My whole upper body flexing. Pecs squeezing through my tight red polo shirt material. Curtis’ hands are squeezing my biceps. I start flexing harder. Grunting. Growling. I’m in full-on fucking bodybuilder mode. Curtis is panting. Letting out little groans. I can't quite believe this is happening. But I just want to flex and pose. Nothing else seems to matter at this moment but Curtis and my muscles. I just want to flex for Curtis. 

I grab the bottom of my polo shirt and peel it off. I’ve never seen anyone look the way Curtis looks right now. Awe-stricken. In total amazement. Almost disbelief. At what’s happening. At the image of my now bare, pumped up and abnormally muscular torso before him.

His hands go tentatively to my chest. And then my arms. He’s feeling them gently. It’s different from before. Something is shifting. Feeling Curtis’ soft hands on my torso. On my chest. On my waist. I no longer want to flex. I’m no longer in bodybuilder mode. I look at his face. That cute, sweet, wholesome, heart-shaped face that belongs to the guy who makes me feel so happy. The guy I think about a lot. The guy I think about ALL the fucking time. Why am I only just realising this now?

Without thinking, I place a hand on Curtis' waist. Feel the softness of his t-shirt. I don't know what the fuck is happening right now. Or what I'm even doing. I’m looking into his green eyes. His face is right there. His mouth. His lips. He’s bringing his face closer to mine. I close my eyes. And now Curtis’ lips are on mine. I’m kissing Curtis. I’m kissing a guy. Fuck. I’m … a jolt of panic surges through me. Because I’m kissing a fucking guy!

I open my eyes and move my head back sharply. Curtis looks confused. He moves his face to mine again and I pull away and spring off the bed. And now Curtis looks like he’s just been punched in the stomach.

“Why did you do that?” I blurt out. 

Curtis’ mouth drops open. He looks like he’s struggling for words.

“You know I’m not gay!” I cry.

Curtis looks winded. My chest tightens sharply.

“Sorry. I’m just …”

I’m fucking freaking out. Because I just kissed Curtis. I just kissed a guy. I pick my polo shirt up and start to put it back on. I feel dizzy. From the alcohol. From what just happened. My head is spinning. I've had way too much to drink. That's what this is. It's the alcohol. This would never have happened if I were sober.

“I should go,” I say, checking my pocket from my phone. I'm struggling to look at Curtis.

“Okay. But …” Curtis pauses. “Alf. That wasn't just me.”

My stomach clenches sharply. I look up at him. “What do you mean?”

Curtis swallows. “You kissed me back, Alfie,” he says gently. For a second, I want to stay. I want to be here with Curtis.

“Maybe. I don't know. You’re bisexual?”

My defences immediately go up. “I’m not bisexual,” I protest. “YOU kissed ME.”

Curtis’ eyebrows furrow. “That’s ... not what happened.”

“I was just … trying to do a nice thing. Let you feel my biceps. You took it too far.”

But there's something about those words that doesn't feel quite right. Curtis narrows his eyes. Now he looks kinda pissed. “Wow,” he says, dryly. “I can't believe you just turned that round on me.”

I feel my defences go up even further.

“Alfie - you know something’s going on between us.”

My insides twist. Curtis has got this ALL wrong.

“Yeah ... we’re friends," I say. My heart is racing. "I like hanging out with you.”

Curtis bites his lip. He doesn’t seem pissed off anymore. It’s almost like he’s pitying me.

“Look, I'm sorry if you've got the wrong impression. But there’s nothing going on!” I protest. “What - do you think I fancy you or something? Because we hang out? Because I lent you my posing trunks? "

Curtis stands up from the bed. “Look - I get that you might be … scared.”

“I’m not scared! I'm straight. I'm a straight bodybuilder!”

Curtis steps forward. “Don't come near me!” I blurt out, backing away.

Curtis’ face falls. He looks fucking wounded. More so than before. Fuck. I can't believe I just said that. I can't believe I just made Curtis' face do that. I have this brief urge to put my arms around him and comfort him. But this bigger urge comes over. To turn and run. To get the hell out of this place.

“Fuck. I’m sorry. I just … I need to go.”

And now, without another word, I’m opening the door to Curtis’ bedroom and without looking back, I’m practically running out of his flat. My head still spinning. From the alcohol. From what just happened. From the fact that I just kissed Curtis. And that expression. That look on his face. Hurt. Wounded. Burning into my brain. 

How did I manage to monumentally fuck everything up in the space of one afternoon? My dad. And now Curtis. 

When I get home, I head to the kitchen to grab some water. I need to fucking sober up. I need to have not just kissed a guy. I didn’t think anyone was in the living room, so I jump when I spot Nick sitting on one of the sofas with his phone in his hand, looking at me nervously.

“Sorry,” he says. Presumably for making me jump.

“That's okay,” I say gently. 

We’re looking at each other from across the room. For some reason, at this moment, I don’t feel pissed off at him. Maybe because there are bigger things going on with me right now. I down my glass of water. But instead of heading back to my bedroom, I walk across the room and sit down next to Nick on the sofa.

“Are you okay?” he says to me. He seems surprised that I’m sitting next to him.

I look at him and swallow. “Not really.”

It hits me at that moment just how much I’ve missed this. How much I’ve missed Nick.

“What’s happened?” he says gently, putting his phone down.

I just kissed a guy. 

I shake my head. “I didn't know,” I say, looking out to the room and not at Nick. “About my dad. Being a … drag queen or whatever. Until that night we all went out.” 

I swallow and nervously look at Nick. “Oh shit!” he says.

Will Nick understand? Or will he just think I’m a secret homophobe who needs to grow up and get over himself?

“Are you okay with it?” he asks softly.

I shake my head at him apologetically. There’s no sign of any judgement on his face though. God, I’ve missed Nick. 

“Does that make me … internally homophobic?”

Nick’s mouth curls into a smile and I smile back.

“I WANT to be okay with it,” I say, surprising myself. “I don’t have a problem with drag queens. It’s just … it’s my dad. You know?”

Nick nods. “I get it. I mean ... I can imagine. Trying to get your head around something like that."

“How are the arse striations?”

Nick bites his lip and smiles.

“You’re starting to get the shredded death face, too.”

Nick winces. “Mmmm. I’m not so crazy about that part.”

I grin. “Part of the package of being a shredded freak, I’m afraid.”

He grins back. “Are you coming to the show? Next week?”

“Of course,” I say, smiling at him. 

Nick's expression turns serious. “Jason’s mum came out of the hospital today.”

“Oh. That’s good,” I say, suddenly feeling awkward at the mention of Jason.

“I ended it. With Mason. I mean … Andy. Jason’s … you know.”

I bite my lip and nod.

“I knew the whole thing was wrong. I knew I should have put an end to it when I found out who he was. It was like … he had this power over me.”

I nod.

“Like … he’d click his fingers and for some reason, I’d go running.”

“Did you like him?”

Nick winces. “Maybe a bit,” he says, suddenly looking sad. “I knew nothing more was going to happen though. I knew it was … just sex, I guess.”

“You deserve better than that.”

Nick looks up at me in surprise.

“I haven't told Jason, by the way.” Nick bites his lip. “I don’t know if that makes me a shitty friend to him.”

“You’re not a shitty friend. I'M the shitty one here. I feel fucking awful.”

I swallow. 

“I know this isn’t an excuse, but I wasn’t really thinking about Jason. I think it was mostly just … exciting. Like the whole thing with Mason.”

Like the Curtis thing.

I nod. “I get that.”

“I'm sorry I accused you of being an actor. I mean … who would pretend to be THAT socially inept?”

Nick opens his mouth in shock. And now we’re just smiling at each other.

“It’s all right. I just … I dunno. You being mad at me. I kinda hated that.”

My chest pinches. I smile at my flatmate. “More than if Danny were mad at you?”

Nick furrows his eyebrows at me and smirks.

"I have no idea why I just said that!" I say. 

“Alf …” Nick begins. “You’re not, like, jealous, are you? Of me and Danny being friends?”

“Mmmm. Maybe a bit?” I say, wincing and feeling vulnerable. “Does that make me totally pathetic?”

Nick’s got this dreamy grin on his face. “No. But … I don't really get why you would be?”

Because Ross is right. Because I have to turn everything into a competition. Because I have to be the best. I really need to stop that.

“I just ... I think I LIKED being your favourite flatmate.”

“I think with you. It’s good because you bring me out of my shell. Whereas with Danny. It’s like, it doesn’t matter that I don’t come out of my shell. He kind of comes into MY shell. Or ... I go into his. If that makes sense?”

“I get it. You’re two little shell-dwelling weirdos together.”

A happy grin spreads across Nick’s face. Maybe it’s the thought of him and Danny being an anything together.

“BUT … just remember who lent you a pair of his best posing trunks!”

Nick grins. “I promise I’ll give you those back.”

I furrow my eyebrows and shake my head. “You can keep them.”

I’m so glad I did this. Sat down next to Nick. I’m so glad we're talking again.

“So … are we cool?” he asks.

“We’re cool. Just … stop shagging my mates’ boyfriends.”

“Do you think …” Nick starts to say, then stops. “Doesn’t matter,” he says, shaking his head.

“What? Go on.”

He looks at me nervously. “Do you think Jason would let me do the regular junior bodybuilding class next weekend? As well as junior classic physique?”

I pull a face. “Erm. I don't see why not! Just ask him!"

Nick bites his lip and nods. “And you know - if you wanted to, like … I dunno, go and see your dad. Like, performing. You know, in drag. I’d come with you.”

I nod, looking out to the room. “Thanks, Nick,” I say, looking at him and finding myself smiling. My sweet, naive, socially awkward flatmate, Nick, who has no idea how cute he is.

I retreat to my room. But as soon as I leave Nick and I’m by myself again, this horrible feeling takes over. It’s not Nick that I’m thinking about. Or my dad. But Curtis. I kissed Curtis. But the fact that I kissed a guy alone isn't really what’s bothering me. What's bothering me is how the whole thing made me feel. When Curtis’ hands were on me. Feeling my flexed muscle. When my hand was on his waist. It's the way I felt when Curtis was kissing me. When my lips were on his. Before I freaked out, panicked and pulled back. That’s what I can’t stop thinking about. The way it felt when Curtis kissed me. The way it felt when I was kissing Curtis back.

[Ozymandias]

Wondered how long until we had a gay panic…

[DawnFire98]

Does this make me sad? Happy? I don't know, might need to sort through my own emotions. But...as you can see, @muscleaddict, you've touched something in me. 

[Bjort]

Ohhhh poor confused Alfie!!! Poor hurt Curtis!!! . It just wouldn’t be a Muscleaddict story with out major catastrophic draaaaaaama!!! But at least the walls got knocked down enough for an Alfie/Nick reconciliation! Big silver lining there. Hooray Now Alfie just needs to just get back up on that horse…

[WashburnDaddy]

It's getting better and better!

 

[Hialmar]

I'm exhausted after reading the latest chapter. Poor lads. All of them.