Decent Progress

Hi Everyone,

I hope you like this latest chapter! The boys get to know each other a bit better I think. If you have any auggestions, concerns or just want to chat please email me at DCfield90@protonmail.com

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Decent Progress Chapter 10

It was 6:30 by the time Christian trudged up to his house and suddenly he was nervous. He'd been too busy reveling to anticipate his parent's reaction to his lie. It wasn't like him to forget to be nervous.

"I guess sex does that to you."

A light bulb pinged in Christian's brain as he carefully unlocked the front door.

"I lost my virginity!"

Unbelievable that it only now occurred to him! Somehow it wasn't as important as he expected. The barren fact that Christian Carter Had Sex Finally was dwarfed in significance by the reality that it was with BRODY LARSON. As he stole quietly inside listening for signs of life, a dumb smile split his face and a Victorian garden's worth of butterflies cavorted in his stomach. He and Brody had done it and he couldn't wait to do it again.

"Have a good run?"

Normally his heart would be frozen but the fire in his whole body thawed the icy fear. He turned. His mother was sitting at the bar eating cheerios and drinking coffee, twisting in the chair to look at him.

"Yeah, it was fine," He answered casually, stopping at the stair's bannister, "the weather's great."

She nodded enthusiastically with her mouth full.

"That storm blew in some nice air, I was thinking today I'd go to the garden store and grab some plants. Your father's been hinting the yard looks drab so I'll put some money where his smart mouth is."

Christian grinned. His dad hated manual labor, though he'd never admit it to his mom. They were really competitive in some ways.

"Nice! I'm gonna go get a shower."

"Okay hun, there's still cheerios when you get down. Remember to eat some protein before practice!"

"Thanks!" He called back as he vaulted up the stairs to his bedroom, missing the trepidatious look his mother aimed at his back.

"Well that went about as well as humanly possible", He thought to himself as he shed Brody's clothes and ducked into the shower. The hot water was a great relief, and as he scrubbed realized how grimy he was. Rain, sweat and cum all washed off in a torrent of fragrant bodywash as he luxuriantly scrubbed his oily scalp. As he dried he wondered how he'd look with a Brody-style buzzcut, but wisely decided against it. Brody seemed blessed with a hair type and head shape that could sustain any style, and he'd probably grow it back out anyway; he'd only cut it to "avoid detection". Christian smiled goofily at the memory. When he walked back into his room he retrieved Brody's clothes from the floor and bunched them to his nose, taking a long sniff. They were soaked in his scent and he felt his dick harden. The sheer animalism of his scent response was delicious. It made him feel primal and it took a lot of willpower not to masturbate right there. He carefully laid the clothes in his drawer as a treasured keepsake.

Ms. Carter finished her cereal and hopped over to the sink to wash her bowel. Catching sight of herself in the mirror at the other end of the room, she allowed a moment of vanity indulgence.

Not too bad, She thought after a brief perusal. In sweatpants and a ponytail and the appropriate lighting she didn't look terribly hag-like. Unlikely she resembled herself 20 years ago on that rainy, mud-slicked soccer pitch but she could damn well try. Not a boastful woman but not immune to pride or an inclination to show it, Ms. Carter felt justified having an air of self-regard. More successful in her career than most childless and unmarried women, she also produced a gorgeous specimen of a baby boy with the temperament of an angel, AND was in a happy marriage. Hell, 18 years? Most people went through half a dozen divorces in that time. And now here she was fattening her bank account with lobbyist money, her loving husband contributing his comparatively modest paycheck (she never let him forget that), her son well on the way to a top-tier school and showing every sign of happiness and well-adjustment... could life get any better?

Nope, She thought to herself as she scrubbed.

But the horizon was still clouded. It always was for her. Worry was a part of her being and it wasn't compensatory for her husband's maddening lack of it; it was just part of motherhood. Christian was the North Star of her existence and the love she felt for him was at times (there was only one word for it) painful. If anything happened to him she knew her life would end. Her soul would be killed because it inhabited him now. Out of the protective shell she'd formed from layers upon layers of jaded experience she had taken her soul, and placed it in this tiny, fragile, heartbreakingly beautiful creature. And no matter how big he got Christian would always be that baby cradled at her breast, flaxen hair protruding from his hospital swaddling, sleeping soundly as Dean leaned over them both stroking her blonde tresses. As she lay in exhaustion and murmuring to them in calm but radiant happiness.

So she wouldn't allow anything to hurt her boy even if it made him hate her, and a potential threat had emerged that may require her horns to be lowered.

"But I need to confirm."

She carefully waited to hear the water upstairs before she crept cat-like up to Christian's room. The bathroom door was shut and his clothes were on the floor.

"Oh yuck."

She knew before touching but cringingly picked up the shirt anyway. The mangiest dish-towel couldn't compete with it and it STANK of semen. It smelled like it spent the last ten years marinating in a vat of it. And there was an underlying odor as well, one completely foreign to her son or their household. She unraveled it.

Titans Wrestling Club

The words were emblazoned white on black in an upside-down grin mocking her for their plain implication.

"He actually ran all the way to that kid's house to have sex."

It was characteristic of Christian in a way. He could do most things he set his mind to and as mild as he was, he had a reservoir of stubbornness that only rarely surfaced. Now it had, in contradiction to her own will.

"Now what?"

Stopping teenagers from screwing was like beating back the tide with a stick, and Tris Carter was well aware of looking like the hypocritical prude-parent stereotype. But she didn't care.

"Fucking sue me."

This wasn't really about sex. It was about preventing her affectionate boy from having his heart broken by a wild unpredictable cad, or at least, that was her impression of this "Brody". Even his name sounded asshole-ish to her, like an insurance salesman or something. As she descended the stairs after depositing the soiled garment on the floor, she thought how to approach the situation.

"Will he just dig his heels in if I confront him?"

She'd never had to deal with outright rebellion from Christian before and didn't want to. With his college level physics and math classes, gymnastics, and now sex thrown into the mix, her son was a cocktail of hormones that didn't need added shaking from her. But the shaking would happen if he kept up with Brody, she just knew it.

"What do I do? I can't be a soft touch but I can't make the kid miserable."

She heard the water shut off and the slapping of wet footsteps upstairs. For a moment she thought music was playing when a melodic note floated downstairs, but when she realized what it was, unconsciously she put a hand to her breast.

"Oh my God."

He was singing to himself. The notes flowed with no words in a drifting melody she didn't recognize, but it made tears start at the edges of her eyes. Christian never, EVER, sang. He was so small when she last heard that gorgeous sound.

Why was he singing now?

If only she could deny the obvious answer.

The next week was grueling. Regionals was approaching in two weeks which meant less strenuous workouts but more nervousness as he finetuned his routines. Midterms loomed like a dark specter, his parents were busy with work and the relief from a nice wank was unavailable. It was worse now that Christian had experienced sex: he had a wellspring of memory to draw on, and it bubbled into his waking hours constantly. The taste of Brody's cum, the softness of his skin and unyielding hardness of his muscles, the slickness of his tongue... it all wafted around him temptingly like an apple pie on the windowsill. Finally the day came when his phone pinged on his desk and the bright white letters appeared: Brody

"Hey you :^) what're you wearing"

His grin might have split his face as he replied,

"Nothing"

Brody's response rang almost immediately. It was an identical sound to his other text notifications, but knowing it was Brody made the note pluck a string in his heart, and it reverberated in his soul.

"Show me."

Christian's heart beat faster as he stripped of his clothes. He wanted to look as sexy as possible, but wasn't comfortable doing any kind of slutty position. Enough horror stories in school made him cognizant that he shouldn't show his face though he dearly wished to see Brody's. He settled for standing at an angle from his desk lamp so the light fell on his muscles and cast shadows, making look even deeper and more defined. The prospect of sexting Brody made his breathing shallow and cock hard.

Click

He sent the photo and eagerly awaited a response. His cock moved with his pulse, nodding in expectation. It wanted back into Brody's mouth.

Ping

Christian's mouth flopped open and he mindlessly moved to his bed, enthralled by the image on his phone. Obviously Brody didn't share his shyness about poses. He was arched over his desk chair with his hands behind his head, neck bent back so only the underside of his jaw was visible. The cavity of his underarms swooped up into the mountainous ridge of his lats, which were spread like wings and tapered down into the graceful curves of his core. Christian laid on his stomach and rutted into his mattress. He couldn't help himself. Brody's extended torso displayed the symmetrical lines of his abs, his small oval bellybutton sunk deep into their ridges. And below it all, pink and inviting, his lovestick thrusting right at the camera. Christian's jaw was locked open as he pumped into his blanket making rhythmic rustling noises. Just then his phone pinged once more.

"Remember, no jerking! Save it all for me."

He sank his head and groaned.

"When can we get together tho? At school?"

Please say yes

"Nah, too risky."

Goddamnit, Brody.

"But we have the run of the town. The woods, my gym, your gym, wherever. My truck's back in commission tomorrow"

Christian forgot, Brody's driving privileges had been revoked. He wished he had a car. He wished he'd pressed harder to learn how to drive himself. His father had given him some rudimentary instruction when he was 14 and his mom was perfectly happy to keep giving him rides and never raised the subject. Christian thought she liked keeping him a bit dependent. It was only natural.

"You need to get wheels yourself boy."

Great minds think alike

"What about getting together again?"

"Tomorrow. Here's what we'll do..."

The next day was Sunday and though Christian didn't have regular training, some of the guys met occasionally at the gym for an extra workout, the keys entrusted to an older squad member. Christian's mom dutifully deposited him there. She seemed a little more distant than usual and didn't make her usual observations about people on the road. Not cold or anything, but preoccupied. Christian hoped it wasn't because she was mad at him.

"Everything ok mom?"

She came out of her concentrated trance as they stopped in front of the gym doors, and looked at him as if she were seeing him for the first time that day.

"It's all good sweetie."

She grasped his hand. He felt the warmth of her thin hands contrasted to the cold of her rings. She wore a lot of rings.

"Do you know how much I love you?"

"Not as much as I love YOU."

"Uh-uh, I love you THIS much" She said, spacing her hands a ways apart.

"Well I love you THIS MUCH" Christian replied, holding his hands slightly wider. It was an old game they played when he was little. Eventually they were running from one end of the yard to the other to show the distance they loved each other, ending with them colliding and sprawling over each other in fits of laughter.

"You just get in there and have fun," She laughed, ruffling his dirty blond hair, so like her own.

"No prob, I think I've got my routine down for regionals."

"Course you do, you'll knock it out of the park."

He got out with his bag and waved as she drove away, feeling guilty about betraying her trust like this. But he had to move quickly before someone drove up or saw him. Skipping down the sidewalk he rounded to the back of the building near the shipping and receiving area. The gym was converted from an old warehouse, the rear of which was never used. Yards of potholed concrete ended in a chainlink fence beyond which was an algae-encrusted retention pond which attracted the odd and hopelessly optimistic fisherman. Amid this dejected squalor a white truck sat gleaming in wait. Christian felt eyes on him through the tinted windows and imagined what leering expressions were aimed his way, suppressing a smile as he approached. When he opened the door, the smell of leather, cologne and boy billowed out. A smile white as the truck's paint greeted him.

"Time to give you a work out."

Brody was wearing form-fitting blue jeans and a white t-shirt. He reminded Christian of someone in an old movie he saw once with his father.

"I thought this was a workout for both of us."

Brody had phrased his proposal with typical ambiguity in their texts. Christian couldn't be sure if he wanted to meet for an actual workout or...another kind of exercise. Either one suited him.

"Oh it is, but it'll be harder on you than me." Brody's wide pink mouth was stretched in a leer both mocking and suggestive.

"There's no WAY, dude," Christian said as if he was speaking to a particularly slow toddler, "Do you have any idea how hard gymnastics is? We're on another level with being in shape, seriously."

"Don't try to imitate my arrogance pipsqueak, it'll end poorly. We'll be doing rope work, body weight and footwork drills. Among other things."

Footwork? Christian was caught off guard. That wasn't something gymnasts needed to worry about. He'd do his best and get revenge by forcing Brody to do vault next time. See how he liked faceplanting!

"So where are we going again?"

They had thundered around the retention pond and swung through several side streets. Christian's gym was midway between the suburbs and downtown, the latter including newly gentrified neighborhoods replete with gastropubs and post-war housing revamped into condominiums.

"My dad's new place. He bought the property on a market downswing. It's going to be a crossfit style place; rudimentary equipment and high prices. But hey, it's profitable so I'm not complaining," He said, gesturing to his pristine dashboard as proof of his father's success.

"Ok. Just remember, you gotta get me back to the gym by 4:00 otherwise my mom will go apeshit."

"Yeah, yeah."

"I'm serious! I don't like lying to her. I'm doing it too much lately."

"You really love your mom, huh?"

"Yeah. Don't you love yours?"

Brody's expression was inscrutable.

"Sometimes."

Christian nodded sagely and turned back to the front.

They pulled up to a row of old brick single stories, the middle one with a floor-to-ceiling garage door and the others showing signs of renovation, though still a bit dilapidated. Grass was growing through the pavement and wind sighed through trees in the vacant lot behind the building. Brody switched the truck off and hefted his bag out of the bed. Spinning his keys around his finger he unlocked the steel shutter and raised it up with a loud clatter as if he did this every day.

"Most of the squat racks aren't in yet and the wiring is a bit, uh, unpredictable, but it's our newest money printer. I helped install all these mirrors," he said pointing around. It was a masculine, utilitarian place like Christian guessed it would be. These sort of gyms were popular now instead of the boutique spa variety. The floor was lined with puzzle piece foam but was mostly smooth concrete, rows of dumbbells placed under the plate glass mirrors and a jumble of punching bags, exercise balls, oversized tires and ropes were crammed into a corner. Paint was flecking from the walls and the fluorescent lights hung from the ceiling by exposed cable, shod in cafeteria style stainless steel cones. It all had a pleasingly industrial feel to it. Cozy in its barrenness.

Brody shucked his jeans off and put on a shrunken pair of sweatpants. Christian felt his gaze burning into him as he did likewise.

"We start with ropes and squat jumps to get the blood flowing," He said, dragging the heavy coils out of the corner and laying them parallel to each other.

"30 seconds on ropes, then squat-jump across the gym and back. Repeat five times."

Christian gazed down uncertainly at the thick black ropes before him.

"Sooo, what's the deal with these?"

Brody grasped his own set and lashed one with one arm, then another with his alternate, like cracking a very heavy whip.

"Like that. These are vital for building explosiveness in wrestling, I do these constantly. If you can torque your opponents neck like you can these ropes, you're at a tremendous advantage."

Christian winced at the thought.

"Ready? Timer set... GO!"

Christian started hesitantly looking over to copy Brody's motions. He crouched into a squat and whipped the ropes violently, letting his arms slacken on the ascent and bringing them down hard on the descent. Christian and watched the ropes ripple in waves across the floor, feeling the burn in his shoulders and forearms to maintain a tight grip.

"Hold them like a hammer, otherwise you'll hurt your elbow!" Brody called. "Time! Jumps now, hurry up!"

Christian hastened to place his back against the wall. Brody began with a tremendous leap and he followed suit, bounding on Brody's heels and trying to bring his legs forward to plant them as far ahead of his hips as possible.

"Goddamnit!!" Brody shouted as Christian overtook him. "What're you, part frog?!"

"HAHAha!" Christian laughed between breaths as he made it back to the ropes. They repeated the process five times with Brody barking intermittently to pick up the pace. Christian could tell he was annoyed that he could jump farther than him. By the time they were finished both were sweating profusely.

"Tired yet?" Brody approached him with hands on hips, nudging Christian with his foot as he squatted on the balls of his feet.

"Not even close." And he wasn't. Brody's face had a sheen of sweat. His hair, now beginning to grow back in, was as sleek and black as a beetle's carapace.

"Good cuz we're just getting started." He chucked Christian gently under the chin.

"Now for weights. Squats and deadlifts to blast the muscles. You know how to do these?"

"Coach showed us before. I think."

"That's a no then. Step on up," Brody guided him to the squat rack and laced the bar with plates. Christian ducked under it and pressed his shoulders into the bar, feeling its mass.

"It hurts. You don't use a pad?"

"No, we're not pussies. Now place your hands evenly apart, pinkies on that smooth ring between the ridges. Good. Now ease it on up.

Christian grunted as he stood up fully. The iron bar grinded into his lats but he gritted his teeth and endured it.

"Back it on out. Okay, now I'll guide you down."

He stepped up to Christian's heels and placed his hands on his hips like they were at a dance. They felt so strong and sure. Christian looked at them both in the mirror, Brody's face obscured behind his own.

"Bring it down slowly. Press your heels into the ground like they're a part of it. Imagine yourself planted into the earth. Think of your body like an oak in a storm: all movement up top, steady at the bottom."

Brody went on like this as he completed reps in a low and clear voice. Christian felt his thighs and glutes burning but handled the weight perfectly.

"Take your butt back. Back more. Imagine if you were taking a dump."

"EW!" Christian gasped.

"Sorry, no poetic way to describe THAT movement" Brody said wryly. Brody squatted with him keeping hands on his waist. At the furthest point down Christian's rear was smooshed into Brody's crotch. He felt the warmth of his loins and his hard stomach on his lower back. Whether this was by design or not he couldn't tell and was straining too hard to care.

"Up now. Easy, don't bounce. It's harder on your muscles but you'll avoid injury that way. Uncontrolled movement is the number one cause of that shit."

"I know, I'm not clueless bro."

"I like to assume you are," Brody whispered in his ear. Christian shivered and made the plates rattle. Brody's lips in that area never failed to do that. They repeated eight times, then it was Brody's turn. Christian admired him from the sidelines.

"Bit more weight this time?"

"Sure, why not."

Brody added twenty-five pounds and they went again.

"You good with more?"

"Child's play," Christian scoffed. Brody raised an eyebrow and twisted his mouth. Another twenty-five, another set. This time the burn was real and Brody was grimacing. Christian saw his legs quiver on the final rep.

"How about a pant little extra?"

They were really sweating now. Christian felt his underwear clinging to his thighs and he slicked his hair back to prevent dripping into his face. His legs were beginning to feel wobbly. One more set on the current weight he might manage, but more...

"I'll take care of you, don't worry. If it feels too much just let it roll down your shoulders."

"Let's do it."

In the mirror as he shimmied up to the bar he saw Brody removing his shirt. Then his pants.

"Dude, anyone could drive by and see!"

"Let them look. It's the most beautiful thing they'll see all day."

Christian didn't contest that. Brody plucked at his t-shirt and his waistband insistently.

"C'mon."

Casting a searching eye out the garage door he complied, not realizing how sticky his shirt was. Brody's eyes were devouring him as he removed his pants.

"I take it back: THAT'S the prettiest thing an onlooker can see."

Christian blushed and moved his hands in front of his crotch. His briefs were really skimpy. They were so tight they had a kind of pouch in them for his cock instead of a basket, which made his junk protrude.

"Nah... you win on looks," He deflected.

But he was being honest because GOD Brody looked amazing. His body was covered in sweat making his skin look like wet rubber layered over sculpted muscle. He watched the lines of his abs deepen as he exhaled and a droplet of sweat ran down the center canal to dangle at the edge of his bellybutton.

"I'll go first."

Brody racked the last plates on the bar and curled himself under it to adjust his bare shoulders beneath its mass. He looked so lithe and powerful as he braced against the formidable weight.

"UUHHH!" He grunted as he lifted off.

"You okay?"

"YESH" Brody said through gritted teeth. He edged back a bit feet sliding in little shimmies. He thrust his ass out, feet immobile just as he taught Christian, who hovered beside him with arms extended vaguely to intercept a falling bar or a falling Brody.

"PSSSSSHHHH!"

With a sound like air escaping a tire Brody came back up, all his muscles visibly trembling.

"Gonna oof go for five on this"

"Do you need me underneath?"

"Nah"

Two, three, four. Christian marveled. Brody's legs were quite slim, much more so than his, but their strength was crazy. The individual cords of his quads strained through his skin and were alive with a million tiny undulations looking fit to burst. But on the fifth ascension the wobble was extreme. His knees were vibrating like a badly tuned engine and he was stalled midway up in a crouch.

"Here, let me help!" Christian said, taking hold of the slabs of Brody's sides.

"NO! I can do it!"

"You can't! Let me-"

"NOOOO! AAAAAAHHH!!!"

With a guttural cry Brody gave an almighty heave and the bar went clattering and smashing back onto the rack.

"LET'S GOOOOO!" He bellowed in a feral victory cry. Christian was grinning in disbelief and Brody clasped him in a rough bro-hug. From over his shoulder he could see the deep welt the bar left in his back.

"Your turn now!" Brody enthused with a slap on Christian's cheek.

"I dunno if I can..."

"You can, and you will. I'll be right here."

There was no way he could chicken out. Brody would be disappointed.

"It's go time. Turn around."

For some reason that last sentence sent shockwaves up Christian's spine.

"Here GOES!" He unracked the weight. It felt so much heavier this time, like a hippo was added to each side instead of twenty pounds. Felt weight must compound itself. Doing as instructed and imagining his feet as immovable pillars he went down, Brody with him.

"Thaaaaaat's it. Smooth, easy. Really feel it." Those abs against his back again. Their wet hardness. It distracted from the searing burn in his thighs.

Up he went. And down. And up. The pain was growing unbearable. And down. His legs swarmed with fire ants. And up. Now they were jello. And down. Oh God.

"RRRrrgh..." He hissed. Every instinct told him to drop the bar as it dug unmercifully into his back. His quads were tearing in two but he'd felt worse before. But there was something else now. Something hard.

"C'mon, you can do it! Up! UP!"

"OGodICAN'T!" Christian sputtered in a breathless shriek.

"You CAN! GET UP NOW!" Brody roared load enough to make the blood pounding in his ears ripple.

"YUUUUAAAGHH!" In imitation of Brody's battle cry Christian marshalled all his reserves and heaved. His knees locked out and he heard the tumultuous clatter of the plates, and suddenly felt weightless as a feather.

"FUCK YEAH!"

Brody embraced him from behind as he leaned into the bar for support, breathing heavily and letting his spent legs soften and dangle.

"Proud of you," Brody whispered, holding him tighter and supporting him.

"Mmmmm" Was all he could say. Sweat ran in rivers down his legs.

"I think you deserve a reward for that."

All the pain was gone and replaced with pleasure. Brody's body was warm and wet on his back.

"Ooohmmm..."

Brody was getting him into the zone. His mind was softening as much as his legs. He was losing the ability to think but they couldn't do it here!

"Not...here...peepul...see" He forced out, clinging to the remnants of his speech as his brain submerged in hormones. Brody's hands roved over his stomach, tracing through his abs and dipping into his bellybutton.

"Like I said-"Brody ran his tongue over his ear "Prettiest thing they'll ever see" His breath was hot and moist in his ear canal. It blew deep into him.

"Noooooo..."

Christian moaned softly in protest but his body was betraying him. His muscles melted under Brody's touch. Everywhere his hands went turned to butter under a hot knife. In contrast his lovestick grew harder like it was sucking all the strength from the rest of his body.

"But you want it so baaad," Brody cooed to him as he wrapped a hand gently around his throat, "You wanna swallow my cock, huh? You wanna drink from it? Slurp down everything I feed you?"

The words made his cock strain hard. He could practically hear the fabric stretching in his briefs. Brody's other hand slipped into them and grasped his length.

"OOOH Brody! Oh pleeease."

"I like it when you say my name. Say it again."

"Brody" The hand tightened around his neck, the other moved a bit along his shaft.

"Again."

"Bro-DEE" The hand rose to cover his mouth. A finger pressed to his lips and he opened automatically letting it slide in.

"Now say it once more," Brody sighed into his ear before giving it a nip. He began to jerk Christian in earnest, lovingly polishing the end of his dick with each stroke, pinching the lips of his dickhole and spreading his precum.

"Bwoah-Dee" Christian moaned through the finger in his mouth. He was too horny to question anything. He was too hot. Brody's body was a furnace against him, the hard pads of his pecs like stones in the sun. Another finger slipped into his mouth and he rolled his tongue around it's salty, coppery surface as the pressure built in his groin.

"Gooood boyyyy" Brody said in a low rumble. He forced his fingers deeper in Christian's mouth as he powered up the pace on his cock, quickly moving the noisome briefs down below his waist.

"Aaauugghww" Christian gargled as he rolled his tongue over the fingers in his mouth. When he felt his briefs lowered he began to hump into Brody's fist and the fingers began moving in and out of his mouth. He closed his lips over them.

"It's a reflex for you isn't it-," Brody smooched his neck, "-my little cocksucker."

"Oh Jeeeshzus phucking YASSS"

Brody flailed his wrist to spank Christian's inflamed cock, forced Christian's head back onto his shoulder as he fingerfucked his mouth and squeezed him hard against the bar.

"MMMM, MMM, MMMMMM"

"Yeah keep going baby, that's perfect...

Christian's head was swampy and thick, delirious with heat and pressure. Neck arched back and hips pumping he was reduced to an animal, a machine that humped and sucked, a sweaty puddle in Brody's arms that could only stab his angry red meat.

"Yes Chrissy, YES, YES, YES" Brody groaned punctuating each words with a thrust of his cock into Christian's taint, driving Christian's chest deeper into the bar.

SLURP, SLURP, SLURP

Christian sucked on the fingers and pumped his hips now completely mindless. All he could think of was his orgasm which built and boiled in his depths. So close...so close... Brody was humping in tandem with himself, pushing forward, crushing his chest into the iron. He didn't care. He needed to erupt. He thrust like his life depended on it filling the whole gym with a ringing wet slap of flesh on flesh. The surge was at his tip when he opened his eyes slightly and saw them in the mirror, both their clouded gazes, himself a wanton, inflamed, gasping slut cradled into Brody's pale body, bound tight in a firm prison of flesh. He erupted.

"NNNNGGUAAUGH!"

Christian thought his cock exploded as it geysered a week's worth of cum all over the floor. Even through the frothing surge of love chemicals in his brain and Brody's tongue swirling around his ear, he heard the splatter on the concrete and felt his taint suddenly grow warm and wet: Brody had cum too.

"Oh...oh...."

"You..oh fuck..." Brody breathed.

If not for the barbell and Brody's now dead weight pinning him into it, Christian would have collapsed. He felt wrung utterly dry. What would someone think if they happened to walk in front of the gym: two naked teen boys leaning into each other in a squat rack, panting and sweaty with their undies at their ankles. They stayed like that for a while, no sounds but their labored breathing and the occasional drip of cum from Christian's underside. After a while it was uncomfortable.

"Brody...UGH... it hurts."

"Wuh? Oh, sorry."

Brody staggered back and unpinned him. He painfully massaged the deep impression the bar left in his pecs. His legs were still not working and he teetered to the ground.

"That was amazing. I'm spent."

He groaned as he reached down to pull his underwear back up.

"We didn't get to do much of what I planned," Brody pouted.

"Like what?" Christian asked innocently, sitting with his legs splayed out.

"Deadlifts, clean and jerks, pull-ups, your first REAL introduction to wrestling, and..." He curved his foot around to Christian's backside, "...exploring a little more of this." He finished with a devilish smile.

Christian balked at that.

"It's kinda soon for THAT, isn't it? Besides I dunno if I want someone messing around back there."

"So what was that in my room the other week, and what literally just happened?" Brody was nonplussed. It was cleat Christian wanted it. When his fingers or his cock strayed near that pink rosebud the kid practically had a seizure from pleasure.

"Not what you're talking about." Christian replied stoutly. "You mean actually..." He blushed, unable to say it out loud.

"Penetration?" Brody offered.

"YES," Christian said with relief, "And that's just like...too much right now." He drew his knees to his chest as if to retreat into his shell. Glancing over to the yawning garage door only feet away with sunlight pouring in, he felt self-conscious.

"Can we please go to the bathroom and get dressed now?"

Brody wanted to press the issue, but with great restraint he just said "Fine, fine," and raised his hands in defeat. They cleaned themselves up with papertowels and redressed. Brody watched Christian as he slipped back into his clothes. Why was he so weird about taking this to the next level? His body had practically demanded it, begged for it. Did he not want to overcommit himself? Did he still not trust him? The thought caused him to burn inside. How could Christian not trust him after what they'd been through together? What sort of doubts still lingered? What sort of interminable probationary period was required to get firmly in this kid's good graces? Where did he get off being so goddamn demanding? Who was HE to reject HIM? What a fucking ungrateful little-

Whoah, steady Brody. Steady.

He was doing it again. That part of him that hounded his thoughts like an evil spirit. That told him the world and everyone in it was treacherous and fickle and unworthy.

You have to resist it. Please, please, please, please...

Christian donned his shoes when Brody took his face in both hands and kissed his lips. Christian's heart swelled fit to burst. He would trade all the naughty stuff just for that and hoped to God Brody felt the same way. He wished he could ask him.

"Thanks for not being mad."

"Course not. You're right. We should get to know each other better. You still haven't even been to one of my wrestling matches."

"Can I come?"

Brody's eyebrows shot up. He looked genuinely pleased.

"Yeah! The biggest one of this whole month is next Wednesday evening. Can you make it?"

"Sure! Does it cost anything? Do I need to make a reservation?"

Brody threw his head back and gave a rich laugh. Christian loved the sound.

"Dude, wrestling's popularity in this state is practically negative. They'll be thrilled just to see people besides parents and siblings show up."

"Sweet! I'll be there."

Brody smiled.

"Good."

They walked out of the gym with Brody's arm over Christian's shoulder chatting about workouts and muscle groups and anerobic vs aerobic and everything else pertaining to sport. And once again Christian felt light as a feather.

End of Chapter 10