muscleaddict

m/m Muscle University

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mario2007
12 minutes ago, muscleaddict said:

Sure. I'll get right on that. 

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Muscleaddict, I will admit it for the rest of us: we, your fans, are greedy bastards! :)

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muscleaddict
9 hours ago, mario2007 said:

Muscleaddict, I will admit it for the rest of us: we, your fans, are greedy bastards! :)

In all seriousness, mate, I would love to write more and faster. I actually thought I'd have had this story finished by now but whatever reason it's taken quite a bit more time to write than AJ & Noah! Maybe I'll try and churn out some short stories after this one but I feel like these longer, novel length stories are what I'm better at. 

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Lefty

This story is great and I love the way it is unfolding.  I am eagerly waiting for each chapter, and I know that , by taking your time, you are making it the best it can be.   Your stories would make great mini-series!  I would love to see your characters in the flesh!

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WashburnDaddy
3 hours ago, Lefty said:

This story is great and I love the way it is unfolding.  I am eagerly waiting for each chapter, and I know that , by taking your time, you are making it the best it can be.   Your stories would make great mini-series!  I would love to see your characters in the flesh!

I think our excellent author would possibly expire during the casting for a mini-series! Mind you I suspect half the folk on this thread would probably get a wee bit over excited at the prospect of auditioning wannabe actors for the roles!

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muscleaddict
4 hours ago, Lefty said:

This story is great and I love the way it is unfolding.  I am eagerly waiting for each chapter, and I know that , by taking your time, you are making it the best it can be.   Your stories would make great mini-series!  I would love to see your characters in the flesh!

Awww - thank you, mate. I appreciate that! I'm still waiting for the email from Netflix to commission AJ & Noah! Maybe a uni for bodybuilders in shiny posers would have more mass appeal? 🙄

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mario2007
10 hours ago, muscleaddict said:

In all seriousness, mate, I would love to write more and faster. I actually thought I'd have had this story finished by now but whatever reason it's taken quite a bit more time to write than AJ & Noah! Maybe I'll try and churn out some short stories after this one but I feel like these longer, novel length stories are what I'm better at. 

We are GRATEFUL for anything you put out. Love all your stories!

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Shawn1978
6 minutes ago, muscleaddict said:

I'm still waiting for the email from Netflix to commission AJ & Noah! Maybe a uni for bodybuilders in shiny posers would have more mass appeal? 🙄

I assume you're only joking about this, even though I would love this idea! Seeing AJ and Noah come to life, on-screen would be great!

But the same could be said about 'Muscle University too.

Given that the film and television industry is running out of fresh ideas, I think stories like these, involving muscle would be a welcome addition to the industry.

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muscleaddict

Twenty Nine

“Is that your t-shirt?” Deano asks me with his face screwed up as I pull my Johnny Bravo t-shirt over my head in the changing room of the gym. We’ve just finished a pretty brutal leg workout. Today’s the day we also film our posing practice videos for the joint assignment we’re doing. Something, I have to admit, I’m mildly excited about. Even if it does mean having to spend more time with twat faced Deano.

“Umm ... yeah?” I reply, looking down at the t-shirt I called the “best birthday pressie ever” on my Instagram the weekend before last.

Deano pulls a face. “Looks like something Henderson would wear!” 

I bite my lip to try and cover up my smirk. 

“Doesn’t suit you!” he says matter-of-factly, shaking his head. 

I roll my eyes and sigh as I take my backpack out of my locker, making a decision to try not to let Deano get to me today. I’m not even going to mention the fact he called Luke a “joke” last week. Partly because I’m still not convinced that he actually believed that.

“Did you check the uni’s Facebook page this morning?” he asks me as we make our way out of the gym. We’ve already decided that we're going to film our videos for the assignment back in my dorm room. One good thing about the whole thing is that it won’t require much talking. Thank fuck!

“Nah. I hardly ever check that!”

“They posted the names of who’s competing at the show!” he tells me. The way he says it, it’s almost smug. Like he thinks he’s got one up on me because he knows something that I don't. Jesus.

He tells me the names of the first years who’ll be competing in our class with us. Eight guys in total. And I can’t deny that I’m now feeling slightly smug myself. Because judging from those names, Johnny’s prediction that me and Deano are looking at top five placings seems pretty accurate. Fuck it - we may even both end up in the top three, although there’s no chance of either of us taking the first place trophy home with Brazilian monster Eric Mafra in the line up.

“You’re not gonna be a twat for the posing video and shout out “YEAH!” every time you hit a pose are you?” Deano says to me.

HA! I smirk and shrug. “Hmmm. Maybe just the most muscular?”

He rolls his eyes. “Johnny will be really impressed with THAT!” he says, sarcastically.

I laugh. “Are you joking?! Have you never seen videos of Johnny Hoxton in his competition days? He was, like, one of THE cockiest and most animated bodybuilders of his era!”

Deano pulls a face. “Probably why he likes you so much!”

“I can’t help it if I’m Dumbledore’s favourite!”

He shakes his head. “You’ve been spending way too much time with Henderson!”

I smirk and feel a flutter in my chest at the mention of Luke. Too much time spent with my cute little Hufflepuff? Not fucking possible!

“Where IS Henderson?” Deano asks me once we're in my dorm room.

“I’m not his mum!”

Just his boyfriend! Although, technically that hasn’t been confirmed yet. I can’t imagine Luke would have any arguments with it though. Wait - do I have a boyfriend? Fuck! My heart suddenly seems like it’s blowing up in my chest. And I’m finding it really hard not to fucking smile right now.

“So … who’s going first?” Deano asks, clutching the handle of his backpack. He suddenly seems a little awkward, which is not how he was the last time he was in my room.

I shrug. “You can if you want!”

He nods and puts his backpack down on the floor. I sit on my bed and watch as Deano takes his black Montgomery University hoodie off. 

I can’t help smirking at the absurdity and surrealness of this situation. Never did I expect to be sitting on my bed watching Deano strip to his posing trunks just a foot or so away from me.

He peels his white vest off and suddenly Deano’s bare torso is right in front of me. His wonky shaped abs etched on to and protruding slightly from his stomach (my bet is that he’ll have a full on turtle roid tummy when he’s older) and his thick slab-like pecs and big boulder-like shoulders on full display. I’ve seen that torso dozens of times before. Every Monday in Posing Practice 101, in fact. But I’ve never been this close up to it. Staring at it head on. 

It’s so surreal to see an actual bodybuilder (sorry, Luke!) in my dorm room. For some reason, I have this weird feeling in my stomach. I'm so fucking impressed with Deano's physique. Not that I’d ever tell him that. He still looks a little awkward. Perhaps more than that. I don’t know if I’m imagining it, but he even seems a little bit nervous.

I pick up my phone and load up the camera app to take my eyes off him, instead of just sitting there watching him (which I imagine is probably not helping with his nerves). 

But something catches my eyes when Deano’s pulling down his trackies. And now I can’t help but just look.

“What?!” Deano says, looking uncomfortable and confused.

“Are those … velvet posing trunks?” 

“Yeah?” he says, defensively with his face screwed up.

I widen my eyes and pull a face.

“They’re better than those shiny posers you always wear!” he scoffs.

Ha! And now I’m smiling. I can’t fucking help it. “They’re really, really not!” 

He rolls his eyes and shakes his head. And now he’s just standing in front of me in his hideous maroon red velvet posers while his thick, freshly pumped muscle bulges off his short-arsed, pocket rocket frame with this expectant look on his face. 

“Come on then!” he orders, impatiently.

“Alright! Jeez. I was just admiring the view!” I say, smirking and going back to my phone.

He pulls a face, suddenly looking even more awkward. I press record on my phone and hold it up, looking at the annoyingly impressive pocket sized muscle mass standing in front of me through the camera. God - he really does look uncomfortable just standing there in front of me in his trunks. Which I’m obviously not getting a kick out of what so-fucking-ever.

“Okay, Deano - give me a front double bicep!”

Deano lifts his arms up with this focused look on his face, then he puffs out his chipmunk cheeks and releases a huffing sound as his thick biceps explode either side of his head and WOW - I have to say, I’m so fucking impressed with the size of them. He’s holding the pose with determination, still blowing out his cheeks, flexing his guns with everything he’s got right now and oh God - I’m starting to fucking swell under my trackies and posing trunks. Which (I admit) feels (eurgh!) a little weird and slightly wrong. But I mean, come on. A stacked bodybuilder is posing right in fucking front of me in nothing but trunks. It would be weirder if I didn’t get a hard on. Even if that stacked bodybuilder is Deano twat faced Watkins and those very trunks happened to be made of fucking velvet.

“And relax,” I instruct, to which Deano obeys and stops flexing. “Front lat spread!” I say, feeling an odd flutter of excitement.

Deano obeys and hits the pose, his pecs lifting up, his thick lats expanding out and his torso taking on an awesome V shape. I look at his impressive quad sweeps and my stomach twinges at the same time my cock judders. And as I instruct Deano to hit a side chest pose and I’m suddenly staring at his huge flexed biceps (wow!) and his thick pecs which are popping off his frame (fuck!) my hard on swells to full size. God - if Deano notices I’m hard I don’t know what the fuck I’ll do. Surely he wouldn’t actually point it out? Wait - what am I thinking? This is Deano! Of course he fucking would. I can imagine it now. “Woody - have you got a fucking WOODY? Maaaate!” 

But I seem to be safe. For the moment at least. Because Deano’s just staring right into the camera. “Turn around. Back lat spread!” I instruct. Fuck. Why does my voice suddenly sound nervous?

Deano spins around and I rearrange my trackies and lift a leg up on the bed to hide my fucking hard on. And now I’m looking at his impressively wide back and that big round bubble butt and I can’t help but smirk as I think of my lovely Luke, and how much he’d probably actually love to be in my position right now. Maybe I’ll tease him about it later. Though I’m not sure I’ll be confessing to the fact that I got a hard on watching Deano pose. Even if I highly suspect that the exact same thing would be happening to Luke if he were in my position right now.

Deano's back looks crazy when he hits a lat spread. As do his powerful boulder-like shoulders and his super pumped guns when he gives me a back double bicep.

“Turn back round to face the camera!” I instruct.

Deano spins around and FUCK - my heart jumps into my throat when (for the first time) his eyes briefly veer down to my crotch. Shit, shit, shit! Okay - he’s just looking at the fact I’ve now got one leg up on the bed. Surely he can't see that I've got a hard on? His expression isn’t giving anything away. He just looks purely focused on the task of posing. Which, I have to admit, he’s pretty fucking good at. He might be an annoying, piss taking twat most of the time but there's no denying that Dean Watkins makes for one hell of a bodybuilder. And for the first time ever, I’m actually thinking that’s it’s kind of a shame we don’t get on.

“Okay, give me an abs and thighs!” I say, looking straight into my phone.

Deano takes a breath, still with that focused expression on his face, throws his arms behind his head and then crunches down into an awesome abs and thighs, his cheeks puffing out, his thick, wonky shaped abs crunching and fuuuuck - he looks insane! My dick judders in response.

“And your final pose. Any most muscular of your choice!” I say into the camera, my stomach twisting with nerves (actual nerves).

Deano puts his fists together, and with a (rather hot!) huffing noise, squeezes out a most muscular. His shoulders look bigger than ever before. His triceps pop. His arms look crazy as the balls of pumped bicep muscle explode underneath his thin skin. Jesus! And now I feel a sharp panic. Because Deano’s almost finished posing. Which means it’s my turn next. But I’m still sat here with a massive fucking hard on!

“And relax!” I say.

But Deano ignores me. Because now he’s lifting his arms and elbows up and before I have time to think, his face is screwing up as he (finally!) shows a bit of attitude and he’s cranking down into the craziest crab most muscular. And (low and behold) he even lets out a tiny grunt as he hits the peak of the pose. Traps erupting. Shoulders popping. Deano shaped, pocket rocket, future 212 class competing muscle exploding right before my bloody eyes. Fucking HELL. 

He relaxes from the pose, his hands on his hips, trying to catch his breath. 

“Awesome!” I say, my cock still fully erect (fuck).

“Thanks!” he says, catching his breath. 

And now I’m smiling. I can’t help it! Because I just complimented Deano and he just thanked me for it. What the fuck is going on?

“What?” he asks me, furrowing his eyebrows. I shrug and pull a face. And now he looks uncomfortable again. Even slightly nervous. And now there’s this weird atmosphere all of a sudden. 

Deano turns and reaches into his backpack and I see an opportunity. I slide off my bed and rush to my en suite bathroom. “Back in a sec!” I call.

I lock the bathroom door and look down at the hard on ridiculously tenting my trackies. “Fuck!” I whisper. And then I let out a little laugh at the absolute absurdity of the situation I’m in right now. Hiding in my bathroom from Deano Watkins to try and get rid of the stonking erection he’s just given me. Oh God. I’ve got a fucking WOODY over Deano. Maaaate!

What would Luke think if he saw me right now? Oh shit. What WOULD he think? Surely he’d get why I was turned on? A bodybuilder just flexed and posed while huffing, puffing and (even fucking) grunting in front of me wearing nothing but a pair of posing trunks. I’d get hard no matter who that bodybuilder was. Deano. Shaun. Tommy fucking Foster. Okay, I probably would have creamed in my posers if it had been Tommy fucking Foster I’d been watching. And I’m sure Luke would too. Maybe he’d laugh about it. Even take the piss out of me for it. Or maybe (and now my stomach’s clenching) he’d be pissed off about it. Get paranoid and self conscious and jealous. Fuck. And now, thinking about the possibility of Luke being upset over this, I’m finally losing my erection. Thank GOD for that. And now it’s gone, I’m kind of embarrassed with myself.

I take a deep breathe and go back out to my room. Deano’s now sitting on my bed with his phone in his hands, still wearing nothing but his velvet (eeeew!) posers. His huge shoulders still on display. His thick pecs still out. The atmosphere from earlier seems to have eased a little. But things still feel a bit weird. Deano’s being oddly quiet as he sits messing with his phone. 

And now I’m feeling strangely nervous as I take my Johnny Bravo t-shirt off and start stripping down to my posers. And as I pull down my trackies to reveal the shiny ruby red material of the trunks (which I’m guessing he thoroughly disapproves of) I'm wearing, I notice Deano glancing up at me from his phone.

“Ready?” I say, standing in front of him. 

Deano gives me a little nod, messes with his phone and holds it up in front of him. Why is he being so quiet? 

“Wait!” I say. I do a quick little flex as if imitating a most muscular. “YEAH!” I say in a cocky manner. “Just practising!” I say, with a smirk. And now Deano’s shaking his head but he’s smirking back. He’s actually fucking smirking! HA!

And then I notice something on my red posers. A fucking wet spot from when I was hard earlier. Jesus! There’s no way Deano would notice that. Is there? And again - I’m smiling at the fucking absurdity of that predicament I find myself in.

“Front double bicep!” Deano calls. Okay - time to get into professional bodybuilder mode. And I do. I lift my arms up and hit the pose, feeling the crazy pump in my biceps. Man - this feels good. And suddenly I’m not thinking about what happened earlier when it was Deano’s turn. I don’t make any noise, or show any kind of attitude. But when Deano asks for a front lat spread, I can’t help letting out a little grunt as I pull up the straps of my shiny red posing trunks and hit the peak of the pose. Pecs jumping up. Lats expanding out. OOOOF! 

I half expect Deano to be rolling his eyes. But he’s not. He’s just looking pensively into the camera. Almost like he’s quietly impressed. Just like I was when I was sitting on my bed watching him pose.

I ease off on the attitude for my next few poses. My side chest and rear poses are all grunt free. I’m as focused and professional as Deano was, while enjoying flexing my pumped muscles and posing for an audience as I always do. Perhaps even more so. Because I can’t deny that I’m secretly getting a kick out of the fact that said audience is Deano. 

“Turn to face the camera,” he instructs when I’ve finished my back double bicep.

I spin around and Deano’s just looking into the camera. A serious, slightly weird look on his face. It’s like he’s kind of in awe of my muscles? Even a little hypnotised. Something twists in my stomach.

“Abs and thighs,” he says, his voice kind of distant and strange.

I hit the pose Deano matter-of-factly told me was my best when he was here in my bedroom last week. I puff out my cheeks (Deano Watkins style) and release an audible huff as I blow out and crunch down. I look down to see my big abs popping (definitely hotter than Deano’s) and my shiny red bulge sticking out and I twist my thighs to show my audience of one the definition and lines peeking through my quads. God yeah!

“And any most muscular,” Deano instructs, his voice quieter than I’ve ever fucking heard it as he continues to just stare into the camera with that odd look on his face. I didn’t even know Deano could do quiet? And something suddenly hits me. Maybe he’s having a moment of self doubt. Maybe watching me pose and seeing how impressive my physique is, he’s suddenly thinking, “Shit! How am I supposed to compete with that on Saturday?” Even though our physiques are completely different. Even though Deano actually stands a good chance of placing higher than me at the show. Surely he knows how good he is?

I don’t fuck about with my final pose. I lift my arms and elbows up, animatedly scrunch up my face and blast down into a mass exploding most muscular. I’m not really feeling a, “YEAH!” would be appropriate right now, so I just let out a deep, cocky grunt instead. I squeeze and squeeze and then release another grunt as I relax. 

And now it’s all over. But now there’s this weird sort of atmosphere in the room. I put my hands on my hips to catch my breath, looking at my training partner. He drops his phone, still looking into the screen with that strange, serious expression on his face. I’m standing over him, still in just my posers. And Deano’s not looking up at me. It’s almost like he’s making a point not to look at me.

“Well?” I say to him, feeling strangely nervous. 

He finally looks up and Oh my God - he looks SO nervous. And so very un-Deano like. What is going on?

“How did it look?” I say nodding at the camera.

Deano shrugs, awkwardly. “Yeah. Fine!” 

“What’s up with you?”

He screws up his face. “Nothing!” But his expression, everything about him says differently.

“You’re being really weird!”

He pulls another face. “You’re being weird!” he says, awkwardly, but he doesn’t look at me. 

“Oh-kaaay!” I say, sitting down on my bed next to Deano and still catching my breath. And now Deano looks really fucking awkward. What the hell?! 

I look at him as he messes with his phone. His huge shoulders right there. Thick pecs still out. I can feel a sort of heat coming off his body. And the atmosphere is even more weird and tense than before. 

“Can I … see the vid?” I ask him, nervously. Why am I nervous, for fuck’s sake?!

He hands the phone in my direction, and his hand is fucking shaking. And then he looks up at me again and my stomach clenches when I see his expression. I’ve never seen Deano looking so serious. Or so fucking nervous.

I go to take the phone, but it doesn't budge, because Deano's gripping on to it tight. I try again, my hand on one end of the phone, his on the other, but he's not letting go of it. What the fuck is he doing? 

“Deano!" I cry.

He finally loosens his grip on the phone. And now I’m just staring at him, completely fucking baffled. And Deano’s staring back. That weird fucking look on his face. So nervous. So serious. And now ... oh FUCK ... his face is lunging towards mine and I don’t have time to think or move and I feel like I’ve slipped into another fucking world because … oh ... my … fucking … GOD … Deano Watkins, the guy who’s spent the past few weeks annoying the hell out of me and trying to make my life difficult, now has his lips pressed against mine. Deano Watkins, my twat faced arch rival nemesis, is fucking KISSING me. 

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Shawn1978
13 minutes ago, muscleaddict said:

Twenty Nine

“Is that your t-shirt?” Deano asks me with his face screwed up as I pull my Johnny Bravo t-shirt over my head in the changing room of the gym. We’ve just finished a pretty brutal leg workout. Today’s the day we also film our posing practice videos for the joint assignment we’re doing. Something, I have to admit, I’m mildly excited about. Even if it does mean having to spend more time with twat faced Deano.

“Umm ... yeah?” I reply, looking down at the t-shirt I called the “best birthday pressie ever” on my Instagram the weekend before last.

Deano pulls a face. “Looks like something Henderson would wear!” 

I bite my lip to try and cover up my smirk. 

“Doesn’t suit you!” he says matter-of-factly, shaking his head. 

I roll my eyes and sigh as I take my backpack out of my locker, making a decision to try not to let Deano get to me today. I’m not even going to mention the fact he called Luke a “joke” last week. Partly because I’m still not convinced that he actually believed that.

“Did you check the uni’s Facebook page this morning?” he asks me as we make our way out of the gym. We’ve already decided that we're going to film our videos for the assignment back in my dorm room. One good thing about the whole thing is that it won’t require much talking. Thank fuck!

“Nah. I hardly ever check that!”

“They posted the names of who’s competing at the show!” he tells me. The way he says it, it’s almost smug. Like he thinks he’s got one up on me because he knows something that I don't. Jesus.

He tells me the names of the first years who’ll be competing in our class with us. Eight guys in total. And I can’t deny that I’m now feeling slightly smug myself. Because judging from those names, Johnny’s prediction that me and Deano are looking at top five placings seems pretty accurate. Fuck it - we may even both end up in the top three, although there’s no chance of either of us taking the first place trophy home with Brazilian monster Eric Mafra in the line up.

“You’re not gonna be a twat for the posing video and shout out “YEAH!” every time you hit a pose are you?” Deano says to me.

HA! I smirk and shrug. “Hmmm. Maybe just the most muscular?”

He rolls his eyes. “Johnny will be really impressed with THAT!” he says, sarcastically.

I laugh. “Are you joking?! Have you never seen videos of Johnny Hoxton in his competition days? He was, like, one of THE cockiest and most animated bodybuilders of his era!”

Deano pulls a face. “Probably why he likes you so much!”

“I can’t help it if I’m Dumbledore’s favourite!”

He shakes his head. “You’ve been spending way too much time with Henderson!”

I smirk and feel a flutter in my chest at the mention of Luke. Too much time spent with my cute little Hufflepuff? Not fucking possible!

“Where IS Henderson?” Deano asks me once we're in my dorm room.

“I’m not his mum!”

Just his boyfriend! Although, technically that hasn’t been confirmed yet. I can’t imagine Luke would have any arguments with it though. Wait - do I have a boyfriend? Fuck! My heart suddenly seems like it’s blowing up in my chest. And I’m finding it really hard not to fucking smile right now.

“So … who’s going first?” Deano asks, clutching the handle of his backpack. He suddenly seems a little awkward, which is not how he was the last time he was in my room.

I shrug. “You can if you want!”

He nods and puts his backpack down on the floor. I sit on my bed and watch as Deano takes his black Montgomery University hoodie off. 

I can’t help smirking at the absurdity and surrealness of this situation. Never did I expect to be sitting on my bed watching Deano strip to his posing trunks just a foot or so away from me.

He peels his white vest off and suddenly Deano’s bare torso is right in front of me. His wonky shaped abs etched on to and protruding slightly from his stomach (my bet is that he’ll have a full on turtle roid tummy when he’s older) and his thick slab-like pecs and big boulder-like shoulders on full display. I’ve seen that torso dozens of times before. Every Monday in Posing Practice 101, in fact. But I’ve never been this close up to it. Staring at it head on. 

It’s so surreal to see an actual bodybuilder (sorry, Luke!) in my dorm room. For some reason, I have this weird feeling in my stomach. I'm so fucking impressed with Deano's physique. Not that I’d ever tell him that. He still looks a little awkward. Perhaps more than that. I don’t know if I’m imagining it, but he even seems a little bit nervous.

I pick up my phone and load up the camera app to take my eyes off him, instead of just sitting there watching him (which I imagine is probably not helping with his nerves). 

But something catches my eyes when Deano’s pulling down his trackies. And now I can’t help but just look.

“What?!” Deano says, looking uncomfortable and confused.

“Are those … velvet posing trunks?” 

“Yeah?” he says, defensively with his face screwed up.

I widen my eyes and pull a face.

“They’re better than those shiny posers you always wear!” he scoffs.

Ha! And now I’m smiling. I can’t fucking help it. “They’re really, really not!” 

He rolls his eyes and shakes his head. And now he’s just standing in front of me in his hideous maroon red velvet posers while his thick, freshly pumped muscle bulges off his short-arsed, pocket rocket frame with this expectant look on his face. 

“Come on then!” he orders, impatiently.

“Alright! Jeez. I was just admiring the view!” I say, smirking and going back to my phone.

He pulls a face, suddenly looking even more awkward. I press record on my phone and hold it up, looking at the annoyingly impressive pocket sized muscle mass standing in front of me through the camera. God - he really does look uncomfortable just standing there in front of me in his trunks. Which I’m obviously not getting a kick out of what so-fucking-ever.

“Okay, Deano - give me a front double bicep!”

Deano lifts his arms up with this focused look on his face, then he puffs out his chipmunk cheeks and releases a huffing sound as his thick biceps explode either side of his head and WOW - I have to say, I’m so fucking impressed with the size of them. He’s holding the pose with determination, still blowing out his cheeks, flexing his guns with everything he’s got right now and oh God - I’m starting to fucking swell under my trackies and posing trunks. Which (I admit) feels (eurgh!) a little weird and slightly wrong. But I mean, come on. A stacked bodybuilder is posing right in fucking front of me in nothing but trunks. It would be weirder if I didn’t get a hard on. Even if that stacked bodybuilder is Deano twat faced Watkins and those very trunks happened to be made of fucking velvet.

“And relax,” I instruct, to which Deano obeys and stops flexing. “Front lat spread!” I say, feeling an odd flutter of excitement.

Deano obeys and hits the pose, his pecs lifting up, his thick lats expanding out and his torso taking on an awesome V shape. I look at his impressive quad sweeps and my stomach twinges at the same time my cock judders. And as I instruct Deano to hit a side chest pose and I’m suddenly staring at his huge flexed biceps (wow!) and his thick pecs which are popping off his frame (fuck!) my hard on swells to full size. God - if Deano notices I’m hard I don’t know what the fuck I’ll do. Surely he wouldn’t actually point it out? Wait - what am I thinking? This is Deano! Of course he fucking would. I can imagine it now. “Woody - have you got a fucking WOODY? Maaaate!” 

But I seem to be safe. For the moment at least. Because Deano’s just staring right into the camera. “Turn around. Back lat spread!” I instruct. Fuck. Why does my voice suddenly sound nervous?

Deano spins around and I rearrange my trackies and lift a leg up on the bed to hide my fucking hard on. And now I’m looking at his impressively wide back and that big round bubble butt and I can’t help but smirk as I think of my lovely Luke, and how much he’d probably actually love to be in my position right now. Maybe I’ll tease him about it later. Though I’m not sure I’ll be confessing to the fact that I got a hard on watching Deano pose. Even if I highly suspect that the exact same thing would be happening to Luke if he were in my position right now.

Deano's back looks crazy when he hits a lat spread. As do his powerful boulder-like shoulders and his super pumped guns when he gives me a back double bicep.

“Turn back round to face the camera!” I instruct.

Deano spins around and FUCK - my heart jumps into my throat when (for the first time) his eyes briefly veer down to my crotch. Shit, shit, shit! Okay - he’s just looking at the fact I’ve now got one leg up on the bed. Surely he can't see that I've got a hard on? His expression isn’t giving anything away. He just looks purely focused on the task of posing. Which, I have to admit, he’s pretty fucking good at. He might be an annoying, piss taking twat most of the time but there's no denying that Dean Watkins makes for one hell of a bodybuilder. And for the first time ever, I’m actually thinking that’s it’s kind of a shame we don’t get on.

“Okay, give me an abs and thighs!” I say, looking straight into my phone.

Deano takes a breath, still with that focused expression on his face, throws his arms behind his head and then crunches down into an awesome abs and thighs, his cheeks puffing out, his thick, wonky shaped abs crunching and fuuuuck - he looks insane! My dick judders in response.

“And your final pose. Any most muscular of your choice!” I say into the camera, my stomach twisting with nerves (actual nerves).

Deano puts his fists together, and with a (rather hot!) huffing noise, squeezes out a most muscular. His shoulders look bigger than ever before. His triceps pop. His arms look crazy as the balls of pumped bicep muscle explode underneath his thin skin. Jesus! And now I feel a sharp panic. Because Deano’s almost finished posing. Which means it’s my turn next. But I’m still sat here with a massive fucking hard on!

“And relax!” I say.

But Deano ignores me. Because now he’s lifting his arms and elbows up and before I have time to think, his face is screwing up as he (finally!) shows a bit of attitude and he’s cranking down into the craziest crab most muscular. And (low and behold) he even lets out a tiny grunt as he hits the peak of the pose. Traps erupting. Shoulders popping. Deano shaped, pocket rocket, future 212 class competing muscle exploding right before my bloody eyes. Fucking HELL. 

He relaxes from the pose, his hands on his hips, trying to catch his breath. 

“Awesome!” I say, my cock still fully erect (fuck).

“Thanks!” he says, catching his breath. 

And now I’m smiling. I can’t help it! Because I just complimented Deano and he just thanked me for it. What the fuck is going on?

“What?” he asks me, furrowing his eyebrows. I shrug and pull a face. And now he looks uncomfortable again. Even slightly nervous. And now there’s this weird atmosphere all of a sudden. 

Deano turns and reaches into his backpack and I see an opportunity. I slide off my bed and rush to my en suite bathroom. “Back in a sec!” I call.

I lock the bathroom door and look down at the hard on ridiculously tenting my trackies. “Fuck!” I whisper. And then I let out a little laugh at the absolute absurdity of the situation I’m in right now. Hiding in my bathroom from Deano Watkins to try and get rid of the stonking erection he’s just given me. Oh God. I’ve got a fucking WOODY over Deano. Maaaate!

What would Luke think if he saw me right now? Oh shit. What WOULD he think? Surely he’d get why I was turned on? A bodybuilder just flexed and posed while huffing, puffing and (even fucking) grunting in front of me wearing nothing but a pair of posing trunks. I’d get hard no matter who that bodybuilder was. Deano. Shaun. Tommy fucking Foster. Okay, I probably would have creamed in my posers if it had been Tommy fucking Foster I’d been watching. And I’m sure Luke would too. Maybe he’d laugh about it. Even take the piss out of me for it. Or maybe (and now my stomach’s clenching) he’d be pissed off about it. Get paranoid and self conscious and jealous. Fuck. And now, thinking about the possibility of Luke being upset over this, I’m finally losing my erection. Thank GOD for that. And now it’s gone, I’m kind of embarrassed with myself.

I take a deep breathe and go back out to my room. Deano’s now sitting on my bed with his phone in his hands, still wearing nothing but his velvet (eeeew!) posers. His huge shoulders still on display. His thick pecs still out. The atmosphere from earlier seems to have eased a little. But things still feel a bit weird. Deano’s being oddly quiet as he sits messing with his phone. 

And now I’m feeling strangely nervous as I take my Johnny Bravo t-shirt off and start stripping down to my posers. And as I pull down my trackies to reveal the shiny ruby red material of the trunks (which I’m guessing he thoroughly disapproves of) I'm wearing, I notice Deano glancing up at me from his phone.

“Ready?” I say, standing in front of him. 

Deano gives me a little nod, messes with his phone and holds it up in front of him. Why is he being so quiet? 

“Wait!” I say. I do a quick little flex as if imitating a most muscular. “YEAH!” I say in a cocky manner. “Just practising!” I say, with a smirk. And now Deano’s shaking his head but he’s smirking back. He’s actually fucking smirking! HA!

And then I notice something on my red posers. A fucking wet spot from when I was hard earlier. Jesus! There’s no way Deano would notice that. Is there? And again - I’m smiling at the fucking absurdity of that predicament I find myself in.

“Front double bicep!” Deano calls. Okay - time to get into professional bodybuilder mode. And I do. I lift my arms up and hit the pose, feeling the crazy pump in my biceps. Man - this feels good. And suddenly I’m not thinking about what happened earlier when it was Deano’s turn. I don’t make any noise, or show any kind of attitude. But when Deano asks for a front lat spread, I can’t help letting out a little grunt as I pull up the straps of my shiny red posing trunks and hit the peak of the pose. Pecs jumping up. Lats expanding out. OOOOF! 

I half expect Deano to be rolling his eyes. But he’s not. He’s just looking pensively into the camera. Almost like he’s quietly impressed. Just like I was when I was sitting on my bed watching him pose.

I ease off on the attitude for my next few poses. My side chest and rear poses are all grunt free. I’m as focused and professional as Deano was, while enjoying flexing my pumped muscles and posing for an audience as I always do. Perhaps even more so. Because I can’t deny that I’m secretly getting a kick out of the fact that said audience is Deano. 

“Turn to face the camera,” he instructs when I’ve finished my back double bicep.

I spin around and Deano’s just looking into the camera. A serious, slightly weird look on his face. It’s like he’s kind of in awe of my muscles? Even a little hypnotised. Something twists in my stomach.

“Abs and thighs,” he says, his voice kind of distant and strange.

I hit the pose Deano matter-of-factly told me was my best when he was here in my bedroom last week. I puff out my cheeks (Deano Watkins style) and release an audible huff as I blow out and crunch down. I look down to see my big abs popping (definitely hotter than Deano’s) and my shiny red bulge sticking out and I twist my thighs to show my audience of one the definition and lines peeking through my quads. God yeah!

“And any most muscular,” Deano instructs, his voice quieter than I’ve ever fucking heard it as he continues to just stare into the camera with that odd look on his face. I didn’t even know Deano could do quiet? And something suddenly hits me. Maybe he’s having a moment of self doubt. Maybe watching me pose and seeing how impressive my physique is, he’s suddenly thinking, “Shit! How am I supposed to compete with that on Saturday?” Even though our physiques are completely different. Even though Deano actually stands a good chance of placing higher than me at the show. Surely he knows how good he is?

I don’t fuck about with my final pose. I lift my arms and elbows up, animatedly scrunch up my face and blast down into a mass exploding most muscular. I’m not really feeling a, “YEAH!” would be appropriate right now, so I just let out a deep, cocky grunt instead. I squeeze and squeeze and then release another grunt as I relax. 

And now it’s all over. But now there’s this weird sort of atmosphere in the room. I put my hands on my hips to catch my breath, looking at my training partner. He drops his phone, still looking into the screen with that strange, serious expression on his face. I’m standing over him, still in just my posers. And Deano’s not looking up at me. It’s almost like he’s making a point not to look at me.

“Well?” I say to him, feeling strangely nervous. 

He finally looks up and Oh my God - he looks SO nervous. And so very un-Deano like. What is going on?

“How did it look?” I say nodding at the camera.

Deano shrugs, awkwardly. “Yeah. Fine!” 

“What’s up with you?”

He screws up his face. “Nothing!” But his expression, everything about him says differently.

“You’re being really weird!”

He pulls another face. “You’re being weird!” he says, awkwardly, but he doesn’t look at me. 

“Oh-kaaay!” I say, sitting down on my bed next to Deano and still catching my breath. And now Deano looks really fucking awkward. What the hell?! 

I look at him as he messes with his phone. His huge shoulders right there. Thick pecs still out. I can feel a sort of heat coming off his body. And the atmosphere is even more weird and tense than before. 

“Can I … see the vid?” I ask him, nervously. Why am I nervous, for fuck’s sake?!

He hands the phone in my direction, and his hand is fucking shaking. And then he looks up at me again and my stomach clenches when I see his expression. I’ve never seen Deano looking so serious. Or so fucking nervous.

I go to take the phone, but it doesn't budge, because Deano's gripping on to it tight. I try again, my hand on one end of the phone, his on the other, but he's not letting go of it. What the fuck is he doing? 

“Deano!" I cry.

He loosens his grip. And now I’m just staring at him, completely fucking baffled. And Deano’s staring back. That weird fucking look on his face. So nervous. So serious. And now ... oh FUCK ... his face is lunging towards mine and I don’t have time to think or move and I feel like I’ve slipped into another fucking world because … oh ... my … fucking … GOD … Deano Watkins, the guy who’s spent the past few weeks annoying the hell out of me and trying to make my life difficult, now has his lips pressed against mine. Deano Watkins, my twat faced arch rival nemesis, is fucking KISSING me. 

I KNEW IT! I just fucking knew it! 

As I said before, there's a very fine line between love and hate.

I had a feeling that Deano may have secretly admired Woody. I think Deano is probably more impressed with the fact that Woody is so open about his sexuality, even though Deano doesn't officially know that Woody is gay.

I just hope Luke doesn't walk in on that, though. That would be a classic moment, but hopefully Woody tells him what happened later on. It wouldn't be good for him to keep a secret like that.

But either way, this should make things more interesting. Maybe Deano and Woody can become friends. Or if not, Woody can probably at least help Deano come to terms with his own conflicted sexuality. Luke too, maybe.

 

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WrestlejockCT

Oh wow, this is simply a twist I didn't see coming, at least not this fast....I love this complication! Another riveting chapter, and now, alas, another period of intense anticipation for the next chapter. Well-played Muscleaddict, well-played.

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