-Mason-

Like most habits, the one involving the cute instructor at my local gym had started out by pure accident.

My friend Eric had been busy with exams and hadn't been able to hang out at all, leaving me with a sudden huge gap of free time smack in the middle of the afternoon. It had previously been taken up by us binge-watching TV shows or gaming the afternoon away, but suddenly he was too busy to do much of anything.

That's how I ended up at the gym at around four pm, instead of the usual ten pm, on that seemingly ordinary Friday, tiredly glancing at the packed parking lot as I exited my car; part of me had hoped that it'd be somewhat less packed during the day than it was at night. No such luck, though.

I fell into my regular schedule quite easily, plugging in my earbuds, blasting one of my many workout playlists, and easily shutting everyone else out. The plan was to do some light stretching, jog on the treadmill for thirty minutes to warm-up, and then hit the weight room. Today was leg day, which meant I'd probably be physically fighting people for the Leg press.

The treadmills all ended up being busy, but that wasn't too big of a deal. I was already here at an odd time, so why not shake it up a bit more? I decided to just jog at the indoor track instead, amused by the mere prospect considering I rarely frequented it.

And that, inevitably, led to me jogging around the indoor track the entire afternoon...

Yeah, it was kind of pathetic.

Shutting everyone out had been going according to plan, at least until it suddenly wasn't working at all. Curiosity got the best of me when I heard a particularly terrifying screech from down below, surprised that not even my noise-canceling headphones could keep it at bay. I glanced down, casually inspecting my surroundings and cringing when I noticed the multitude of loud children frantically dashing about the gymnasium.

I wasn't too fond of the pandemonium, but it was easy enough to ignore when I could hardly hear them. And honestly, that was going to be the end of it.

Then, I managed to catch a glimpse of the infuriatingly attractive class instructor standing tall amid the chaos, wearing a sheepish, warm smile on his face. The man crouched before one of the kids and chuckled while helping him up from a failed attempt at a squat. I was, unfortunately, unable to catch his laugh due to the loud music booming against my eardrums.

I immediately ripped the earbuds off, shamelessly staring at him as I slowed down to a walk, holding my gaze even as I tried to ignore the sudden tightness in my chest.

The instructor walked around them with a certain serenity, warmly beaming at the kids before signaling for them to take a break. The class was a disorganized hellscape, but there seemed to be a method to its chaos.

He seemed more than happy just standing there, surrounded by the noise... and I felt a conflicting calmness softly enveloping me, my tense body relaxing at the mere sight of him.

That was until he looked up.

I pressed myself back against the wall, out of sight, nervously watching as one of the runners on the track curiously glanced over their shoulder as they passed me. My heart was pounding viciously against my chest, which made no sense. What the hell was I freaking out about?

Hesitantly, I tried to continue jogging along the track, to shake it off and move on, but my traitorous eyes kept drifting back to him.

Let him teach his damn class in peace, I muttered to myself, feeling my nervousness grow anew as I noticed the dude glancing up and scanning the indoor track, having clearly noticed someone staring. He couldn't see much of the track from the floor below, but that didn't seem to be stopping him from trying.

I eventually dragged myself off the track after almost being caught staring for the tenth time, promising myself I would just go on with the rest of my workout like normal. And that when I was done, I would go home and forget about this altogether. After all, today was a fluke. I never came this early... I'd likely never come across him again. The tightness in my chest would go away. I wouldn't even remember the tenderness of his smile come nightfall.

---

I growled under my breath as I walked across the gym's parking lot a week later, making my way inside. I was on time, according to my new schedule. Once again, I found myself at the gym at four pm like the day before and the day before that and—

It concerned me despite my unwillingness to stop.

And for the fifth weekday in a row, I continuously cleared my schedule for the sole purpose of being able to catch another glimpse of him. Eric wasn't even around to stop me, far too busy with life to even pose as a viable distraction.

"You're being stupid," I whispered under my breath while getting my ID card scanned, suddenly turning around, and realizing a random woman had caught me talking to myself. The rush of guilt was immediately invoked, so heavy in my chest, as she recoiled back upon meeting my gaze. It took a single glance at one of the wide, wall-length mirrors on either side of the gym to see that I was, indeed, bitterly scowling at her.

I warily lifted my fingertips to my face and smoothed out the harsh lines across my forehead, at the expanse of skin above the bridge of my nose first—right between my eyebrows—and then tediously at the larger ones that dominated my forehead. Between naturally possessing a resting bitch face and being unusually expressive when it came to irritation, this was more or less a recurring problem.

Thinking back, the only reason my Eric had even bothered to approach and befriend me back in middle school was due to his unwillingness to "turn back from a challenge". Even if that "challenge" had been a bratty child who always glared at everyone and used to resentfully keep to himself during recess.

I let my body guide me through the lobby, heading to the main locker rooms—which were connected to the pools—and shoved my duffel bag into the nearest locker. These were usually less busy due to the constantly wet floor and lack of individual shower stalls.

"If someone did this to me, I'd probably be irritated," I pointed out under my breath as I secured the lock on the locker, hoping that'd be enough to convince myself to just head to the weights room right away like I used to. I even paced across the room, momentarily considering going to the pool instead before realizing I hadn't even brought my swimming trunks along today.

"What if I actually introduce myself today?" I offered as a counterpoint, because hey... maybe then it'd be a bit less of an offense? But honestly, things weren't looking too good on that front either; the mere thought had me ready to bolt out of the gym instead.

I constantly told myself that yes, today was finally the day. But then I'd look down at him and lose any hint of courage I'd managed to muster up during the half an hour I'd wasted over-thinking. I always stubbornly stuck around for a while longer before realizing there was no way I could excuse hanging out in the indoor track for too long, especially when multiple people came and went in the time it took me to gather and misplace my courage. So I'd pick up what was left of my dignity and head out for the day, convinced that maybe tomorrow. Maybe.

As my own patience grew thinner, I even began to wonder if falling off the indoor track's ledge would be better than continuing to stare at him from afar like a coward. Perhaps I could even introduce myself and ask him for his name before the ambulance took me away.

"Yeah, I totally... might," I murmured while walking past the lower floor's windows while on my way to the stairs, disappointed to find another person teaching in his place.

I frowned at the blond guy, considering leaving altogether before warily heading up the stairs towards the indoor track anyways, unprepared for the mess that would follow.

---

"So, who is he?" Eric complained from his bed, throwing a pillow at me when I didn't reply right away. I shrugged in response; if it were up to me, I'd gladly just block out the memory altogether.

Eric hadn't even bothered to look up from his laptop when I'd walked in an hour earlier, but he was sure willing to talk now that he was taking a break from his latest project.

"Huh?"

"Come on, bro; I have to get back to gathering sources for this presentation," he pressured me while violently shaking some loose pieces of paper, frowning at me as if I were the one being unreasonable. "Who is he?"

"What makes you think it's a dude?" I replied weakly, scoffing at the insinuation. "This quarter's just kicking my ass."

He gave me this particular stoic expression, the kind that meant that he knew I was miserably attempting to hide the real reason I was brooding. I rolled my eyes at his paranoia, focusing back on my phone before another pillow hit me square in the face.

"Knock it off," I warned while throwing both of them back, missing him and hitting his laptop instead.

"Bro, be careful!"

"Mind your business, then!"

Eric narrowed his eyes, grabbing the pillows and resting his head on them once more. "So, you're not seeing anyone?" he asked, visibly disappointed.

I snorted at the irony; I could sure see the guy, but that didn't mean shit if I couldn't muster up the confidence to go talk to him and I lost my cool whenever we somehow managed to cross paths. As it stood, I wouldn't last a day in Itzy. "Nope."

"Maybe it was wishful thinking on my part..."

"Maybe so," I agreed, rather snarkily.

"It's just—you've become such a recluse. All you do is go to class, work out, and bother me for attention," Eric mentioned, flashing an unabashed smile when I scowled. "Not that I don't love spending time with you, buddy."

"Offense taken," I retorted, narrowing my eyes at his sheer audacity. "How about you? When's the last time you got laid?"

"No, no, let's not worry about me," Eric said like he wasn't being a hypocrite. "I'm serious, though! Come on, bro. You know you have to let that high school trauma go at some point, right?" Eric pointed out. That's how he usually was with me, eagerly willing to rip off the damn band-aid whenever necessary.

I scowled. I was over it. Now if only he didn't mention it every time that I seemed troubled by something...

"Don't give me that face, Mason; we both know that I'm right!"

I huffed before irately rubbing my forehead. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"You won't even try dating nowadays."

"I made out with that girl when I went to pick you up from the bar a few weeks ago!" I pointed out, somehow pulling out the memory from somewhere deep in the back of my head. "That counts, doesn't it?"

"More like she made out with you while you awkwardly stood there! You didn't even take her number when she tried to give it to you, Mason!" he recalled, shaking his head in disbelief. "I don't think being groped at a bar counts as dating. Which, by the way, what the hell..."

"I already told you... I'm fine; this quarter's just been hard," I assured him, despite only being able to force a half-smile at most. I wasn't wrong, though. "We should be focusing on graduating. Not... whatever."

"Right."

"Finals are coming up, I've missed too many classes and my professors suck."

"You dare lie to Phaeric?" he suddenly questioned in a forced, gravelly voice, trying his hardest not to break out of character. "All-knowing, Phaeric?"

I huffed exhaustedly. Not this shit again.

Eric was honestly kind of cool most of the time, but that didn't mean he was without fault. Out of his many weird quirks, the biggest flaw was perhaps that he had a corny, self-imposed alter ego that he used to excuse his nosy behavior and obnoxious impulse to give out unsolicited advice, whether it was warranted or not. It was honestly beyond me how he got away with being so weird and still managed to get laid. And have friends. And be well-liked.

Eric generally only used the voice when he got too drunk, was about to give out advice—which was never asked of him, by the way—or he was just plain bored and needed to kill time by being a fucking nerd. What did it entail? Well, mostly, just a forced deep voice, awkwardly formal speech which didn't always make sense, and the jerk referring to himself in the third person. Oh yeah, and so much unsolicited advice.

"It was funny in middle school, but nowadays it just makes me want to kick your ass," I pointed out. He'd stopped doing it as frequently the older we got, but even once every few weeks was more than I could handle before having to restrain myself from dueling him to death.

"Makes you want to kiss my ass, you say?" Eric asked, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively, an exaggerated smirk plastered across his face. "Well, well..."

"I said kick."

Phaeric was the combination of his name with Pharaoh, and it was... kind of ridiculous, even if it was somewhat fitting. I usually put up with it because I knew, deep down inside, that he was just trying to lighten the mood and be helpful. However, it also meant that he wasn't going to leave me alone until I opened up about what was bothering me.

And him caring so much about my feelings would've honestly been fine under any other circumstance, but this was a lot more embarrassing than anything I was willing to confess to him.

"Tell Phaeric your troubles, naïve man-child," he ordered, glancing at me through knowing, dark brown eyes. He was also struggling to hold back a smirk.

I rolled my eyes, grumbling under my breath when he lazily got off his own bed and walked over, looming over me with the unspoken threat to wrestle an answer out of me. "Come on, dude!"

I sighed. "This is why I bullied you in middle school."

His jaw slacked. I flinched even before he punched me in the arm, smirking once he settled down in bed beside me, doing that annoying thing he always did where he kind of just sprawled his body over my bed and stayed there until I gave him the attention he demanded.

"Have you tried talking to him, at least?" he asked, huffing as I shoved his leg off mine.

I suddenly narrowed my eyes. "What do you know?"

Eric signaled for me to make some space for him, smacking my thigh when I didn't move. He sat up beside me once I finally, unwillingly, scooted over to give him some space. "We couldn't have done this with a few feet of distance?" I asked sarcastically.

"Why? Do I make you uncomfortable?" he asked while gripping my thigh, wiggling his eyebrows. "We're just bros being bros, right?"

"Straight people exhaust me, you included."

Eric burst out laughing, but let go of my thigh, crawling further back on the bed so he could lean against the wall. I glared at him, but only after rearranging myself to lay my head on his lap.

"Listen, I know you've been working on opening up to people—" he started while trying to flick my nose, hissing under his breath when I bit him in retaliation.

"I already have a therapist; I don't need this," I pointed out as he finally stopped trying to flick me, glaring up at the ceiling as he scrolled through his phone instead, occasionally pointing down the phone to show me a funny post.

"You haven't been going, though, have you?" Eric suddenly pointed out after showing me a particularly hilarious video of a cat bitch-slapping the ever-living hell out of a grown man, chuckling at his own observation. "To therapy, I mean."

Touché.

"None of your business."

"Well, you look sexually frustrated as hell," he blurted out, absolutely shamelessly. "And you take showers at insanely early hours, and that is totally what someone would do if they were going to rub one out in the shower stalls. Which, by the way, gross? You know you can just ask me to leave the room if you need some alone time, right?"

"Have I ever told you how much I hate you?" I asked before smacking him across the stomach, grinning when he groaned out in pain.

"Why?" he asked while rubbing at his abdomen, throwing his head back. "Even though I offered to give you a bro job," he reminded me while giving the air a hand job, even twisting his wrist for technique's sake.

I rubbed at my temple, unsure of whether to storm out or kick him out of the dorm. I almost bothered to question whether bro job would be a better substitute for blow job rather than hand job given the similar wording, but then I reconsidered it altogether; playing along would only encourage him.

"Your dick is within punching distance," I reminded him, despite making no effort to move my head away from him; I'd already gone through the trouble of getting comfortable.

"If it's within punching distance, it's within sucking distance," Eric argued, tilting his head.

"You're a menace."

"What? Nah, but you know I'd do anything to help my bro out," he continued jokingly while rubbing my left pec, holding back a snicker that only lasted as long as it took me to punch him again. And damn it did he sound downright raunchy as he sarcastically mimicked the awful scripts used in gay pornos. It only made me wonder if he'd ever looked them up or if he was truly improvising?

Of course, I promptly sat up and shoved him off my bed before he could say anything else, perhaps rejoicing a bit too much in the harsh way he fell to the ground.

"Hey!" Eric complained, wincing as he—thankfully—stayed sprawled on the rug that lay between our beds.

"I'm so close to flinging you out the window," I threatened through a laugh, although only half-joking. He was so damn lucky that I'd outgrown that brief crush I'd had on him during eighth grade, back when every single one of his little 'jokes' shook me to the very core. Back then I'd almost wished he'd been homophobic rather than so comfortable with himself because it was that confusing.

"All I want to know is if the dude you're crushing on is from uni or the gym," he wondered aloud, grinning widely when I visibly stilled. I frowned at him in disbelief... how?

"I don't know what you're talking about!"

"Tell that to your face!"

I let out a tired sigh, feeling myself being worn out in real-time; I was clearly just prolonging the inevitable, per usual. "He's some kind of instructor at the gym I go to," I confessed before Eric could complain any further, rolling my eyes when he nodded his head in agreement, nodding as if he'd known all along. "That's all I'm divulging, heathen."

"Would his classes happen to be at around four pm?" he asked.

I narrowed my eyes. "It's at four-thirty. And shut up."

"S'kind of weird, Mason."

"Weird, how?"

"You changed your whole schedule for someone you probably haven't even mustered up the courage to talk to yet," Eric continued, shrugging. "Right?"

"We have talked, actually!" I yelled in response, probably coming off a tad over-enthusiastic. "So, you can—"

"Could it be by accident?" Eric sarcastically pondered aloud, raising an eyebrow. "Could you call that a conversation? Or..."

I scoffed.

"Why don't you join his class?" Eric suggested, his eyes widening in excitement. "That'd give you the perfect excuse to get to know him better!"

I frowned at that, picturing myself trying to run amongst the crowd of little children before, undoubtedly, accidentally stepping on one of them. God, they were all so tiny. So small, in fact, that I'd imagined their instructor to be quite a bit taller than he actually turned out to be when we finally bumped into each other.

"He teaches little kids," I replied. "So, no, I don't think so."

"You act like a child if that helps."

I scoffed. "Me? How about you?"

"Duh. Why do you think we're friends?" Eric asked, shooting me an exasperated look before going back to scrolling through his timeline. "Anyway, if you're crushing on someone already, then I take back my offer for a bro job. I don't have feelings for you or anything, but if you moan someone else's name when you cum, I might still get offended."

And he had the nerve to sound serious about it too.

"Don't you have homework to get done?" I asked. He grimaced from where he was still chilling on the floor, contemplating it for a few seconds. I chuckled as he groaned and grudgingly crawled back to his desk.

---

A/N: Thank you for reading. Please consider voting and commenting; I appreciate it immensely.