chapter 1: january

Technically a bi story, rather than a gay one, but there's no button for that, so I'll just post a warning here...



Treadmills are hard.

I mean, I get it, it's nobody's fault but my own. Christmas season got out of hand, there were too many parties to attend, too many drinks, too much baking, too much eggnog, and through it all I managed to convince myself that it was fine, that everything was fine, even as the month went by and my weight climbed higher and higher.

By the end of the year, when I finally got around to weighing in, I was shocked at the number on the scale. Two-twenty? How the hell had I gained twenty-five pounds in a month? It seemed impossible! Yet there it was, staring back at me, incontrovertible.

Which is fine, everybody gains weight over the Christmas season after all, and at six foot three I can at least hide what I've gained more easily than most. I've always been on the chubby side, and the fact that my stomach has graduated from merely soft to the start of an actual belly isn't the worst thing that's ever happened, but it's January now and the time has come to drop the weight. Which I'll do, it'll be easy. I just have to keep on top of it.

The trouble is, keeping on top of it while carrying an extra twenty-five pounds around my middle, not having worked out in a month and a half, turns out to be harder than I expected...

Still, it's a new year, my apartment complex HAS a gym, time for a new me. And the time on the treadmill has, to this point, passed quicker than I'd expected. It was rough for the first few minutes, sure, I got on, cranked the speed setting up to a comfortable but brisk seven, set the incline to where it was challenging but manageable, and tried my best to struggle through my first workout since November. And eventually I did get into the swing of it. The music piped into the room soothed me, and while the way the control panel on the treadmill would randomly flicker was irritating at first, eventually I tuned it out, tuned out the world, as though nothing existed but me, and the treadmill, and what I was doing, every thought emptying out of my mind, leaving me an empty vessel, waiting to be filled, one foot in front of the other, moving ever forward.

I was so engrossed, in fact, that I didn't even realize 'til my workout was nearly done that, at some point while I was on the treadmill, someone else had joined me in the gym and was using the weights machine on the opposite end of the room.

I've never understood how the weights apparatus in my building's gym worked, I'm not a big weight-lifting-type, when I do work out it's to drop a few pounds rather than lift a few, so my workouts have been limited to cardio and that's always been fine with me. Running or jogging when I'm in shape, walking or jogging when I'm out, it's all I've ever asked of my body and my body has, in general, always delivered for me, maintaining my weight in a range that, if I'm not always thrilled, I'm always comfortable with.

And that's always been fine by me, though looking over at the gentleman working the weights apparatus I've got to admit, I see the appeal of bulking up a little.

He's working topless, which I hadn't been aware people even did, his broad shoulders, powerful chest and muscular arms on display to the world, tapering down to a stomach where you could make out visible abs. I've never had visible abs, and I especially don't now, and until today I'd never particularly wanted them, but seeing him there, grunting as he finishes with his weights in nothing but workout shorts, socks and sneakers, I can at least see the appeal.

Which is funny, I'm not usually the "check guys out at the gym" type, and I blush when I realize he's noticed me noticing him.

"Sup?" he asks, hefting his bulk up and off his seat and grabbing a towel and spray bottle to clean the equipment after his workout.

"Hey," I reply, as my own workout comes to an end and the treadmill starts to slow, "how's it going? Sorry, I guess I didn't notice you coming in."

"Oh, no problem, yeah, you seemed pretty caught up in it when I was coming in. First workout of the new year?"

I laugh in spite of myself, I guess I'm not hiding the new weight as well as I'd thought.

"Yeah," I tell him, stepping down off the treadmill and grabbing my own towel to clean up after myself, "December got on top of me, a little, I guess."

I realize as he approaches that my shirt is soaked, clinging to my new little belly, my sweat pants to my thighs and rear, both bigger than average for a boy. No wonder he sized me up so quickly, I hadn't expected to get so sweaty so quickly. Ah well, it'll get easier as time goes on. I finish wiping down the treadmill, wipe sweat from my face, brush hair back and offer my hand.

"I'm Brian, by the way."

"Paul."

His grip is strong, as he takes my hand, stronger than I'd expected, and my hand goes limp in his, blushing again as he squeezes just hard enough to give me a shock. What's wrong with me? I'm usually much more together than this, much more assertive. But between the workout wiping me out, the fact that my new weight is on ready display to this much fitter, much stronger man, and the fact that I'm not all the way back from having drifted off during my time on the treadmill, I can't help feeling on the back foot, not quite knowing how to react to his overpowering me.

"Well good for you, Brian," Paul tells me, smiling, "starting a new routine is tough, but it's worth it. Trust me, I know."

"Trust you." I say, then immediately wonder why I said it.

"Yeah," he tells me, "trust me. Just keep at it, you'll work that fat off in no time."

"Here's hoping!" I tell him, and laugh in a way that would have sounded confident and easy had my voice not broken halfway through.

"Oh, for sure. By the end of the year you won't recognize yourself. You need a drink?"

I try not to stare too obviously at his powerful legs and well-developed shoulder and back muscles as he goes back to fetch his bottle of water, casually tossing it to me. I almost fumble it, then bring the bottle to my lips and drain it back in three long gulps.

"Thanks," I tell him, "I needed that, apparently."

"Apparently!" he laughs again, every bit as confident and easy as I'd so recently failed to be. "But that'll happen after a workout, I wouldn't worry about it. Trust me."

"Trust you..." I say again, before shaking my head and trying to focus my attention, "but I was just wrapping up, here, Paul, it was good meeting you."

"You too, Brian," he tells me, putting his powerful hand on my shoulder, and for the third time in a very short conversation, I find my face flushed, "you enjoy the rest of your day. I gotta finish up my workout here."

"Yeah, no, obviously," I tell him, "I'll see you around, I plan to be down here more often in the new year."

"I'll see a lot more of you, then." He winks as he says it and I stumble and very nearly fall on my way out of the gym...