Jordon loaded up a bar with weights, draped his towel over the padded bench and lie back on it. When he looked up, Tyler’s sweaty, gray Lycra-covered nuts were hanging over his face. Ogling the delightful package, Jordon licked the salt off his lips. He heard Tyler laugh softly.
“Distracted, Buck?”
When Tyler swung his hips forward, those heavy balls were close enough to nip at, and Jordon wanted to. Very much. “Christ, why don’t you just sit on my face, Holliday. Geez.”
“Is that an invitation?” Tyler purred.
“You wish.”
“Lift the fucking weights, Jordon. Stop procrastinating.”
Getting a grip on the bar, Jordon had to force himself to stop leering at the outline of that amazing set of genitalia. He made a half-ass attempt at a few repetitions, replaced the bar and sat up. “Maybe I’m not into this.”
“Let me just do two sets and we’re done.”
Jordon stood.
“Leave your towel. I don’t mind your sweat on me.” Tyler stayed Jordon’s hand before he tugged it off.
Backing away from the bench, Jordon stood behind the bar to spot, the way Tyler had. After Tyler took a good look at Jordon’s crotch, he pumped ten quick reps. He paused for a mini break, and repeated it. “Good enough. You know that run takes it out of me. It’s hard to keep going after fifty minutes of torture.”
Torture? Jordon choked silently. You want to know what torture is, my friend?
“Let’s go.” Jordon waited for Tyler to stand. They replaced the weights, grabbed their towels and left the gym.
On their walk down the long corridor, Tyler asked, “You watching more Olympics tonight?”
“I’d love to. I really enjoy it. Any track and field on? Do you know?”
“We can check the listing.”
Jordon put his key in his lock.
“Yankees or Mets?” Tyler asked playfully.
As he opened the door, Jordon laughed, “Yanks.”
“Jeeter or Rodriguez?” “Jeeter,” Jordon replied, grinning at Tyler.
“Ahh! Knew it!” Tyler grabbed Jordon around the neck to roughhouse with him.
“What? You’re a Mets fan?” Jordon wrestled back, laughing.
“Nope. Yanks. Love Jeeter. A-Rod lost me with this Madonna shit.”
“Good thing you’re not a Mets fan,” Jordon teased, tussling Tyler around. “I’d have to kick yer ass.”
Tyler wrapped around Jordon’s waist, picking him up off the ground. “You think you can kick my ass, runt?”
“Runt! Who you callin’ runt? What? You think you’re bigger than me ‘cause you’re a cocky bastard?”
“I am bigger than you, Buck!”
Jordon grabbed him around the neck roughly. “Like hell. Bigger ego, maybe!”
“How tall are you, Buckie?” “Buckie?” Jordon coughed in a laugh and they started scrapping playfully. “Six-fucking-one!”
“I’m six-fucking-three!”
“In high heels you are!” Jordon laughed, battling Tyler’s powerful grip.
“High heels? High heels?” Tyler choked with indignation. “Six three- two twenty, Buck! Hear it and weep!” Tyler grappled with him, trying to pick him up again. “What are you? Do you even weigh two hundred, Buckie?”
Knowing he weighed one-ninety, Jordon started laughing. “Shut up.”
“Ha! Don’t even weigh two? Put some meat on your bones, lady.”
“You’re the damn lady, not me.” Jordon roared with hilarity. This was just too much fun!
“Depends who’s topping, hotstuff.”
“Huh?” Jordon laughed, but was lost. “You are so damn sure of yourself, aren’t ya, Holliday?”
“I’m damn sure I can beat you at weight lifting, or anything else that requires muscle, Buck.”
Jordon stepped up the violence slightly, going into college wrestling mode. “You ain’t so strong, Holly.”
“Holly?” Tyler gasped with laughter.
“What the hell’d ya call me Buckie for?”
“You getting’ rough, mister? Think you’re tough?”
“Yeah, I’m tough. Tougher than you, ya bastard.”
Then to Jordon’s astonishment, Tyler picked him up off the floor and threw him on the bed in his bedroom in a classic Olympic style wrestling move. The minute Jordon was prone, Tyler crushed him to the bed under him.
“Augh! You wrestled?” Jordon gasped in shock.
“Metro wrestling freestyle champ 2006!” Tyler flipped Jordon over and pinned his shoulders easily down to the mattress.
“No way!” Jordon was impressed. “Is that the truth?”
“It is.” Tyler grinned.
“Christ, you are so amazing. I wrestled in both high-school and college. Loved it.”
“Come down to the club. We’ll have a bout.”
“Can we do that?”
“Of course!” Tyler grinned.
“I would love that.” Jordon beamed at him.
“I know what I would love,” Tyler hissed desperately.
Suddenly realizing they were overlapping on the bed, Jordon stared at Tyler’s soft blue eyes. “I can’t, Tyler.”
“I know.” Tyler released a long deep sigh.
Tentatively, Jordon raised his hand. It hovered for a moment near Tyler’s face. Tyler’s eyes never wavered from their connection to his. As slowly as if he were a child touching someone for the first time, Jordon brushed his hand over Tyler’s thick black hair.
Instantly, Tyler let out a breathy sound, full of longing, and leaned into the caress.
“I can’t believe how beautiful you are,” Jordon whispered.
Lowering his long dark eyelashes, Tyler begged, “Don’t start something you can’t finish. I can’t take it, Jordon. I want you too much.”
As slowly as he had raised it, Jordon lowered his arm back to the bed. They held each other, still resting on each other, staring at what they could not have.
