Chapter 9 #2
Tomorrow came, and with it the dread of dressing for the gym and getting on a treadmill.
Oscar had always hated having eyes on him, but gyms were the worst for this sort of thing, and as he approached the ugly building with its blackened corners and white paint chipping off, he could only hope Joe hadn’t been exaggerating about it being quiet.
“Oz!” As though they’d known each other a thousand and one years. Joe jogged in his direction, his thighs like a body-shaming ad for the Greek gods, thick and sculpted in his shorts, pecs carving lines into his tight performance T-shirt. “Looking good, man.”
But at least Joe never called him bud. Oscar had seen him a couple more times when Aaron had been working closer to his own apartment and Oscar had offered to go there instead, but he and Joe hadn’t spent much time together.
“Doubtful,” Oscar said, scratching his head as an awkward laugh slipped out of him.
“None of that.” Joe waved him off. “What do you say we do a bit of soft cardio and then some stretching, and we can start you on some lighter weights? Don’t want to overdo it so soon.”
“Soon after what? The twenty years I’ve spent not going to the gym?” Oscar arched an eyebrow at him.
Joe clapped him lightly on the shoulder. “Aaron hasn’t stopped yapping about how the two of you met. When I had my hernia surgery, I had to take it easy, too. Nothing heroic about undoing progress.” He cast him a knowing glance but said no more, walking instead towards the treadmills.
At least he hadn’t been lying about the gym being empty.
It was practically dead. A girl sat at reception, sipping on a protein shake, and two teenagers played around with dumbbells and then tried to do a deadlift, prompting Joe to give them a lecture about biting off more than they could chew and getting seriously hurt.
They left after that, which freed up all the weak-ass weights Joe allowed Oscar to use, and maybe it was good, with or without his recovery in mind, because when Joe made him lift them above his head and put down his arms, Oscar thought he was about to die.
“Come on, one last cooldown cardio run, and we can call it a day,” Joe said. He took him to the stationary bikes and hopped on the one next to his. “Drink some water, Oz.”
“Like the wizard,” Oscar said, casting him a glance through the corner of his eye.
“Wasn’t Oz the place?” Joe arched his eyebrows at Oscar, sipping on his own bottle, barely breaking a sweat.
“That’s very sus for a Gymbro General,” Oscar replied.
“Bitch, please. I’m a token straight if you’ve ever seen one. All my friends are friends of Dorothy. Which makes me…”
“Dorothy?” Oscar asked.
“Precisely, Toto.” Joe laughed, glancing at the clock on his bike. “Alright. Come on. I’m clocking out now.”
Oscar climbed off his bike and followed Joe to the reception desk. The girl passed him a sign-in sheet, and Joe put in the time exactly to the minute.
“Come on, Wiz,” he said, throwing Oscar a smirk.
Oscar rolled his eyes, and he knew Joe had caught it by the familiar laugh, warm as the first days of true spring.
“Hungry?”
“I’m always hungry, Joe,” Oscar replied.
“Good. I’m meeting Anna for early dinner. Come with us.”
“Crash your date?” Oscar looked at Joe in bewilderment.
“Text Aaron. We can call it a double.” Joe flashed him a wink, taking off into a run, which was quite confusing for Oscar until he glimpsed Anna lifting off the ground in Joe’s arms. She giggled as he pressed kisses to her cheeks and mouth and nose, and Oscar took his sweet time getting to them, fumbling with his phone while he prepared a text for Aaron.
Joe and Anna took him to a different coffee shop on their side of town, a bit fancier than what he was accustomed to, but the prices were fine. He studied the menu like he was going to be quizzed about it, avoiding the couple sitting in front of him kissing each other and mumbling.
Aaron saved him a quarter of an hour later, still in the T-shirt he’d worn to man the counter of a clothing store all day. He shuffled in beside him, grinning.
“Hey,” he said.
Maybe without even thinking much about it, Aaron squeezed Oscar’s hand. A moment later, he was saying hello to his roommates and reaching for Oscar’s menu, looking for their selection of coffees.
“Have something to eat,” Oscar muttered, casting him a glance.
“Yes, sir,” Aaron muttered back, but his lips twitched.
“So, Oscar, Joe tells me you’re trying to hook him up with a part-time gig. That’s really cool of you,” Anna said, tapping her fingernails on the table.
“Yeah, of course. It’s nothing.” Oscar waved a dismissive hand. “I’m waiting for a response, but one of the guys emailed me to say they’d have something soon. So it should be good news.”
“My sibling, Riley, they’re so excited about it. You’d think they’re the one beta testing the game.” Joe laughed, rubbing his shaved head. “They’re so cute, really.”
“They haven’t been ’round recently,” Anna said. “Tell them to come for dinner next week. When are you off?”
Oscar’s phone pinged, distracting him from the conversation.
Luke SkyRacer: SPIKE. COME BACK TO THE LAND OF THE LIVING.
Spikey: Kinda busy with…you know…real life…
Luke SkyRacer: Cool. We all have real lives. I will lecture you about making time for me later. For now…does ‘real life’ have a name that starts with ‘A’ perhaps?
Spikey: People like you are the reason everyone thinks gays are nosy gossipers.
Luke SkyRacer: Is this supposed to make me feel bad? I’m doing my people a service.
Spikey: Do you want a medal?
Luke SkyRacer: No, chico. Just an answer to my question :P
Oscar rolled his eyes, then glanced at Aaron, who was eyeing him curiously, blue eyes wide as saucers, fixed on his face.
Yeah, Oscar thought, real life starts with an A.
“Wanna take a picture for my nosy friend?” he murmured.
Jeez, was this what it felt like when people went to war? Suddenly, Oscar felt like he’d pulled the pin on a grenade still in his grip.
But then Aaron leaned in a little closer, and Oscar thought he might truly present Lucas with a medal for making them touch like this.
As the front camera turned on, Oscar paused, eyeing the image of himself next to Aaron, of Aaron beside him, and thought that they looked quite good, like shoes and socks that had been meant to be worn together, a tie and a pocket square, like penguins.
Like boyfriends.
He snapped the photo before the screen could lock and sent it to Lucas
Luke SkyRacer: Oh, real life is cute :O
Spikey: I know… :) The cutest
Aaron’s breath brushed Oscar’s neck, and when Oscar turned to look, he caught his cheeks crimsoning, ripe as strawberries beneath those pretty freckles.
“I didn’t mean to snoop,” Aaron murmured.
“That’s okay,” Oscar murmured back. “It’s not a secret. That I think that.”
Aaron’s lips curved. He was so close, Oscar could just kiss him, but he didn’t want the first time their lips touched to be in the middle of their food arriving, with Joe and Anna sitting across from them talking to Joe’s sibling on the phone to coerce them into coming to dinner sometime that weekend.
Aaron rested his chin on Oscar’s shoulder, and something inside him remembered pulling the pin off the grenade. He brushed Aaron’s bangs from his brow.
“You wanna come over tonight?” he mumbled.
“Yes, please,” Aaron said.
His palm climbed over Oscar’s thigh, reminding him he was wearing sweaty gym clothes, but Aaron didn’t seem to mind. He found Oscar’s hand, fingers sliding through gaps, and he squeezed.
They ate their dinner one-handed.
Food had never tasted so good.