Work Text:
OLLY
I can feel him watching me. I’m dressed in short running shorts with slits up the side and a skimpy tank top. I know what I’m doing.
Zaddies at the gym are like catnip, and I always wanted to bang one in the sauna. It’s a fantasy. Sue me. The one I'm interested in is shorter than me but compact. Light hair dusts his arms. More peeks through his sleeveless t-shirt, and I see golden strands in his pits. I think about what’s under the shirt. We make eye contact as I walk through the free weight area, my earbuds in but not on.
He’s already lifting when I lay a mat down and start stretching. I bend from the waist, my arse in the air. I hear his breath hitch so I know he likes it. When I lunge, I make sure I lean far enough so a bit of my pouch shows. He’s looking, trying to pretend he isn’t. I glance his way, and his head jerks forward, eyes locked on the cardio poster on the wall. He’s blushing. Gotcha.
I lay on my back and pull my legs up to my chest. Sure, I’m presenting, but he likes it. I stretch my hamstrings knowing they’ll be getting a good workout. He puts a mat down next to mine and starts doing push ups. I imagine him doing them over me and groan as I let my legs drop to the floor.
“Hi.”
“Hi.”
“Haven’t seen you here before,” he says, and I groan again. It’s so cringe. But he’s hot, so I let it pass.
“You alright?” He asks, and I pull the leg farthest from him up for a deeper stretch. My filling pouch pushes towards him, my shorts barely hiding anything. It’s almost obscene. He does a push up, his head level with my bulge, eyes wide.
“Yeah. I like to prep before I work out.”
He blushes again, and I stifle a smile. I stretch my other leg before flipping onto my stomach and doing the cobra pose. It makes my arse pop. He looks again, so I shift to downward dog. He mirrors my position, grunting as he does so. I note his compression shorts under his running shorts. I bet he’s wearing them so he doesn’t spring a stiff one. He’s such a prude.
I stand and grab a medicine ball, turn my back to him, and start my squat circuit. As I drop low, I look over my shoulder, pretending I’m concerned about taking up his space. He’s on his back now, doing crunches. His eyes rake my back and bum. Despite his compression shorts, I can see he’s growing. It’s kind of hot seeing the effect I have on him.
After my squats, I stretch my arms over my head, letting my tank top ride over my waistband, exposing my lean belly and treasure trail. I draw my hand down my front and let it rest at my belly button. Sure, I’m flexing obnoxiously, but why not put on a show? Older people need fun, too.
“Gonna work up a sweat now?” he says.
I smile and bite my lip. He’s trying to seem casual, but I’m rattling him. I drag my eyes over his body. This is too easy.
I swallow and nod. “I’ll need a partner.”
DAVID
This little shit is driving me crazy. He waltzes in, barely dressed - his tattoos, lean muscles, and succulent curves on display - and practically begs me to bend him over the weight bench. He’s trying to get me hard in public, and it’s working.
I want to step closer and replace his hand with my own as he slides it down his chest. I want him to touch me like that. But I don’t move. I can tell he wants this reaction from me.
His stretching show is foreplay to him. I see him watching me despite how hard I’m trying to play it cool. This isn’t my usual gym. I don’t see anyone I know, so I don’t know why I’m so flustered by this young pup.
We move to the chest bench. He sets up his bar and weights before sitting down. He’s darting quick looks my way, a smirk on his face as he sees me staring. The things I want to do to that face, that mouth. I bite my lip to stop from saying something lewd.
He adjusts the bench so he’s laying flat, his head almost coming off the table. This isn’t the safest method, but I don’t think he cares. I settle into the spotter position and move forward so my groin is close to his face. Two can play at this game.
I slap his chest. He looks up at me, his eyes searching inside my shorts.
“You need a good pump. Are you up for it?”
He’s about to respond when a young woman, about his age, walks up. She pushes in front of me and looks directly at him.
“Hey, you ready to go?”
She looks pointedly between me and the lithe figure below me. “We-uh-said we’d meet after I finished, and I’m done. You coming?!” she says, but it’s clear from his expression that he doesn’t know what she’s talking about. Suddenly, he smiles and starts to laugh.
“Oh em gee, David! I think she–”
“Wait, you know him?” She asks.
“Olly, I think you’re right,” I start to laugh. She looks between us.
“Oh, no, this is my boyfriend,” Olly explains, sitting up. He’s laughing so hard, tears are forming. It’s adorable and I want to wipe them off, but I think I’ve scandalized the poor girl enough.
“Boyfriends? Oh, I’m so sorry. I thought he was a some creep hitting on you.” She’s blushing and moving away.
“You’re not wrong,” Olly says. The little shit. “I wanted to see how far he dared take this.”
“Appreciate you looking out for him, though,” I say, brushing Olly’s shoulder. “Let’s go hit the sauna.”
Olly smirks, and I’m done for.