m/m Deano's Summer: A Muscle University Story

June 14, 2020

Thanks for all the comments on that last chapter. This next one is a bit lighter in tone than the last couple...

Seven

“Alright!” I say to Joshua as I walk into the kitchen. He’s sitting at the table eating his breakfast. He stops eating and just gawps at me with his eyes widened.

“Stopped giving me the silent treatment then have you?”

I’ve been pissed off with Josh since the incident with mum last week.

“Oi. Don’t wind your brother up,” my dad says to Josh as he sits down next to him.

Bloody hell. Is dad actually sticking up for me for once? Though his tone is a hell of a lot calmer than it is when he’s having a pop at me. He doesn’t hit him with any post either. Or belt him round the head.

I sit down opposite Josh with my porridge. He’s giving me this little smirk. Like he’s pleased that I’m talking to him again.

“Josh - are you seeing your mum this week?” my dad asks, not looking up from his bowl.

Josh looks from me to him confused. I don’t change my expression. “Umm. Yeah?” he says, a little unsure.

“When?”

“Wednesday!”

“Good. You can take your brother along,” he says to Josh, looking at me. My stomach tightens. Josh looks surprised, but he’s smiling too.

“I’m working Wednesday!” I say, looking into my porridge bowl.

“Well, now you’re not!”

I roll my eyes but I don’t argue.

“Is this ‘cause he got wankered last week and was too hungover to work the next day?”

Dad picks up a letter from the table and whacks Josh round the head with it.

“OW!”

I laugh at Josh’s expense.

“I’m calling Childline,” Josh says.

“Funny looking child!” my dad barks. “Six foot tall and built like a brick fucking shit house!”

Josh looks at me and we’re smiling at each other. For the first time in what feels like ages.

My dad’s seems to have gone a bit easier on me since I agreed to meet mum. I laid low over the weekend after my night out with Tony last week. He keeps texting and asking me when we’re going out again. At least I have work and the bodybuilding expo in London next weekend to keep him at bay for a bit.

I haven’t been on Instagram since the last time either. When I saw that picture of Woody and Henderson together. Even though I keep wondering whether Ryan North PT has liked or replied to the comment I left on one of his posts. Or whether he’s commented on any of my pics in return. Or even just followed me. Surely he’s at least followed me?

It’s only been a few days since I last saw him, but as I walk into the gym to find Ryan leant over the reception desk talking to Big Steve in a bright red, tight fitted t-shirt with "RYAN NORTH PERSONAL TRAINING" written on the back, I can’t help thinking that he’s gotten even bigger over the weekend.

Maybe it’s this just this particular t-shirt or maybe he just did an arm workout but his triceps look extra fucking big today. They’re really bulging. His lats are stretching the red material of his t-shirt. And his ass. Thick and round and stretching the material of his black trackies. Jesus. And now I’m suddenly thinking picturing this rear stage shot of Ryan I saw on his Instagram last week. His big, shredded glutes blowing out of his blue non-velvet posers.

“Alright, lads!” he says to me and dad, swivelling round to face us. This big cheeky grin on his face. I fucking swear he’s gotten better looking since I last saw him too.

“Ryan - you big handsome fucker!”

I roll my eyes. Fuck’s sake, dad. Ryan makes eye contact with me and smirks. Why do certain guys smell so good?

“First PT client this morning?” dad asks. Ryan answers yes. Some guy called Oscar who’s apparently a newbie to Deano’s. I’m kind of hoping my dad will let me loose on the gym floor but he tells me to head to the Juice Bar instead.

It’s only a few hours later when I’m reunited with the both of them. Ryan leaning over the front desk again and talking to my dad, who looks pissed off about something.

“I’ll just have to fork out for a fucking courier to collect them!” he moans.

“What’s up?” I ask, as I get to my desk. My dad shakes his head and groans, going back to his laptop and ignoring me. Ryan swivels around to look at me. He’s still leaning against the desk. His arms bulging. Did dad hire this guy just to torture me or something?

“Your dad’s having a bit of trouble getting those banners back from Portsmouth,” he tells me.

“What banners?”

I literally have no idea what he’s talking about.

“Who’s on the Juice Bar?” my dad asks sternly, ignoring my question.

“Steve! It’s my lunch break.”

He shakes his head and goes back to his laptop.

“What banners?” I ask again.

“Oh for fuck’s sake, Deano!” my dad snaps. Then he looks at Ryan and his expression flickers. Almost like he’s realised how unreasonable he’s being. He lets out a sigh and then actually speaks to me like I’m a fucking adult for once.

“We did an expo in Portsmouth a few weeks ago and we left the bloody “Deano’s Gym” banners there. The conference centre’s just sent an arsey fucking email saying if we don’t arrange for a courier to collect them they’re gonna chuck ‘em. Cheeky bastards! We need them for London next Saturday.”

“So what’s the problem?”

“It costs a hundred and fifty bloody quid for a courier!”

“Can’t you just go and pick them up in the car?”

“Now why didn’t I think of that? Smart arse! Fucking ‘ell. Anyone would think he was at Oxford!”

Ryan looks at me and smirks, but it’s not a cruel smirk. It’s a friendly smirk. It’s a, ‘Your dad’s only joking because he’s a massive piss taker and I totally get how embarrassing he is,’ smirk.

“I’ve got clients all bloody week. I’m chock-a-block!” Then he lets out a big sigh. “I’ll just have to cancel on someone. A hundred and fifty bloody quid. That’s Big Steve’s fault for leaving them!”

“Make him drive over there, then,” I suggest.

“What is it? Like, an hour and twenty minutes drive?” Ryan asks.

“About that,” my dad says. “Three hours I don’t have!”

“I’ll go!” Ryan says with a shrug.

My dad shakes his head. “I can’t ask you do that,”

Ryan straightens up. “I don’t mind, mate. I haven’t got another client until tomorrow. Unless you need me here?”

My dad looks at Ryan and rolls his tongue around the inside of his mouth. He’s always doing that.

“Deano - I don’t mind. Honestly!” he protests.

Ryan to the rescue. My dad’s gonna love him after this.

“Okay, okay!” my dad says. “I’ll transfer the petrol money into your account now. You’re a lifesaver, mate!” My dad looks at me. “Take bloody shit-face here with you!” he says pointing in my direction.

My chest does something weird. I look at Ryan. I feel strangely nervous all of a sudden.

“Why?” I ask.

My dad’s eyes widen. “Cause I bloody said so!”

I don’t argue. He thanks Ryan a bunch of times and shows him the address of the conference centre on his laptop which he writes down in his phone.

And now I’m following Ryan and his big arse, bulging triceps and red t-shirt straining lats to his bright red Peugeot and before I know it I’m sat next to him in the passenger seat. His huge, tanned, veiny forearms are right there next to me. His thighs looks massive under his trackies. His pecs are straining under the material of his bright red t-shirt. And those upper arms. Thank God I’m sitting down. Whoever invented trackies clearly didn’t think too much about guys getting unwanted hard-ons at inappropriate moments.

Ryan puts the address into his SatNav. I don’t know if it’s my imagination, but he seems a little nervous. I guess it is a bit of an awkward situation. We don’t really know each other. And we're suddenly sat next to each other in his car. Plus - I am the boss’s son.

“Whoever sent your dad that arsey email better be grateful we’re going instead of him!” he says, as the car pulls out.

I widen my eyes and nod. Ryan clears his throat. “So, do you think you’ll be able to make it all the way to Portsmouth?” he asks me, with a straight face.

“What?” I ask, confused.

“Without me having to stop the car so you can be sick behind a bin?” And now he’s fucking beaming at me. This big, cheeky grin.

I’m kinda smirking, but my stomach’s clenching. Because I’m pissed off too. “My dad fucking told you?!”

Ryan pulls an eeeek face and nods, still smirking. “He told all the lads at the gym!”

I shake my head and look out of the side window. “Fuck’s sake!”

“We’ve all been there, mate! Plus, you know … it’s your dad. You ARE his favourite subject!”

I look at Ryan and screw my face up. What a weird thing to say. I have no idea how to respond.

“Your dad talks about you all the time, mate!” he says, with a big smirk.

Ugh. I can just imagine what my dad says about me to the other lads at the gym. I suddenly feel awkward so I look away and out of the side window again, but for some reason, I’m finding it really hard not to smile. I chew on the inside of my mouth to try and cover it up.

And then something happens to completely pull me from my thoughts about dad. Ryan starts singing along to the really old cheesy pop song that’s playing on the car radio.

I glare at him wide-eyed and he stops singing. “WHAT?” he asks, grinning.

I pull a face and shake my head. But I’m smiling too.

“This is a classic!” he says.

I look at him with one eyebrow raised. “Maaaate!”

Ryan yanks the music up and starts singing along loudly and leaning over to me. Like he’s serenading me. It’s so fucking goofy. But it’s funny too.

“I don’t care who you are … where you’re from … what you did … as long as you love me …”

I shake my head. “Fuckin ‘ell!” I say.

Ryan laughs. “I’m telling you. This is a classic nineties tune. You’re too young to remember!”

“Hmmm. I forgot you’re more my dad’s age.”

Ryan lets out a short, loud laugh. “Cheeky bastard. I’m not THAT much older than you!”

I smirk and look out of the side window again.

“Okay, question - what was your favourite film as a kid?”

“Erm … “ I pull a face, trying to think of a reply. “Terminator 2?” I say, with a shrug.

“WHAT? When you were a kid?”

“Yeah?" I say, with a shrug. "Dad let me watch horror films when I was about ten.”

“Why doesn’t that surprise me?” Ryan says, grinning.

“Why - what was yours?” I ask.

“Easy. The Goonies!”

My stomach clenches. Fucking Henderson has a Goonies t-shirt.

“Never seen it,” I mumble, turning my head and looking out of the window again.

“WHAT?!” he cries.

I turn back to Ryan who’s looking at me flabbergasted. I can’t help smiling at his reaction.

“You’ve NEVER seen The Goonies?”

I pull a face and shrug.

“You don’t know the Truffle Shuffle? Sloth?”

I shake my head, looking at him with an eyebrow raised. Then Ryan leans into me and pulls this really stupid face. “Hey you guuuys?” he says, in an equally stupid voice.

“Are you having a stroke?”

Ryan laughs. “That’s my Sloth impression!”

I pull a face and he laughs again.

“I can’t believe you’ve never seen The Goonies. Right - that’s your new goal for the summer. By the time you go back to uni, you’re gonna have watched The Goonies!”

I pull a face, but I’m smiling too. I can’t help it. “I do have better things to do with my summer than watch kid’s films, you know!”

“Oh what - like throwing up in the street? Going for a drinking sesh with 'mad cunt Tone'?”

“Does my dad just tell you EVERYTHING?”

Ryan laughs. “Pretty much. But no - I read that one on your Instagram post!” he says, looking at me with a little smirk.

I feel a weird flutter in my chest. So Ryan’s been checking out my Instagram page. Presumably after I started following him last week. Which means he’s probably now following me back. And that he must have seen the comment I left on his post. I don’t say anything. I just bite my lip, trying to cover up my smirk.

“Hey you guuuys!” he says in that stupid voice again, not looking at me. Almost like he’s forgotten I’m here.

I look at him and a little laugh escapes my mouth. He grins at me (this stupidly handsome grin) like he’s chuffed that he’s made me laugh. He looks straight ahead and does it again. “Hey you guuuys!”

“Are you secretly, like, a massive nerd?” I say to him.

He leans towards me, pulling the Sloth face again. “Ma-aa-be-ee!” he says, in the same rhythm and voice as the catchphrase.

I let out another little laugh. I’m starting to realise that Ryan’s a bit of a character. He’s kind of quirky, I guess. You’d never really think that to look at him. I admire how much he’s able to just be himself in front someone he doesn’t really know.

“When you watch the film you’ll see how good my Sloth impression really is!”

I raise an eyebrow at him, like I don’t quite believe him.

“Although I’d say I’m slightly better looking than he is!” he says, with a cheeky smirk.

For some reason, I feel a tiny pinch of disappointment. I pull a face and look out of the side window again. So Ryan’s cocky about the way he looks? Just like my brother. Just like Sebastian “Woody” Wood. Why am I fucking surprised at this?

I look back at him and he’s smirking. “Just a little bit!” he says with two fingers pinched. I roll my eyes and smirk. In spite of my-fucking-self.

“So, Mr Pocket Rocket …," Ryan says a little while later. I feel an odd pinch of excitement at hearing him quote my nickname and Instagram profile name. I look at him and he’s cheekily grinning. Yeah - he’s definitely following me on Instagram.

“Excited about the expo next weekend?”

I pull an indifferent face and shrug. He looks at me wide-eyed and surprised. “Okay - what bodybuilder doesn’t wanna go to a bodybuilding expo?”

“I’ve been to, like, a hundred of them! Plus, you know, I’ll be working.”

He nods and smirks. “So you’ll be stuck sitting behind a table in a Deano’s Gym t-shirt all day?”

I smile at Ryan's accuracy and nod. “Pretty much!”

“I’ll come and say hi if I can!”

My stomach does something weird.

“Are you going?” I ask him, feeling an odd pinch of nerves.

He smirks at me. This big, mischievous smirk. “Well I didn’t do the last six weeks of prep for nothing!”

I look at his arms. Huge. Jacked. Tanned.

“I’m competing in the amateur show there!” he explains.

I bite my lip and nod. “Cool!” I say, feeling weirdly nervous again. Because now I’m thinking about one of the pictures I saw on Ryan’s Instagram page last week. The one of him on stage, tanned and shredded and cranking down into a crab most muscular pose. Muscle exploding. Triceps popping. Traps erupting up to his earlobes.

“Super Heavyweight class!” he says.

“No shit,” I say. Fuck - did that come out as rude? Sarcastic? Did I sound like a fucking twat?

But Ryan just looks at me and smirks.

“Just, you know … you are, like, a monster!” I tell him. “A ridiculously tall, giant-like monster!”

He looks me up and down and pulls an eeek face.

“What?” I say, both parts annoyed and amused.

Ryan pulls a face and shrugs.

“You were gonna say something like, everyone’s a giant compared to you!” I say, in a mock voice.

Ryan laughs. “Mate! You’ve NAILED me. That was like listening to myself talk!”

I smirk and shake my head.

“Okay, I admit. I was thinking about commenting on your height. And then I remembered - you’re the boss’s son!”

I raise an eyebrow at him and smirk.

“So I suppose I’d better watch what I say. In case it gets back to him. I’m already regretting the Sloth impression!”

“Just the one or all three of them?”

Ryan laughs. “Wait till you see my Truffle Shuffle! Anyway, the show starts at six. You know ... if you wanna come watch,” he says, without looking at me.

I nod, my chest doing something weird again as I think about Ryan competing. Tanned. Shredded. Fucking hell.

“You’re not gonna pose to The Goonies theme tune are you?”

Ryan lets out another short, loud laugh. “I should pose to The Goonies theme tune!”

I shake my head and look out of the side window, rolling my tongue around the inside of my cheek to cover up the fact that I’m smiling so fucking much.

And all I can seem to think about for the rest of the journey to Portsmouth and back is watching Ryan on stage at the bodybuilding expo in London. Tanned. Shredded. Fucking hell.

June 14, 2020

1 hour ago, DennisFLL said:

AJ and Noah are still in AJ's room, Christmas 2018, hugging each other tightly talking about AJ bulking for a bodybuilding contest coming up.

Indeed they are, mate!

June 14, 2020

37 minutes ago, muscleaddict said:

Indeed they are, mate!

With maybe a few exceptions in the near future!...(Sorry, MA!)

June 14, 2020

52 minutes ago, DennisFLL said:

With maybe a few exceptions in the near future!...(Sorry, MA!)

I'll write an AJ & Noah sequel for 20 grand and nothing less.

June 14, 2020

24 minutes ago, muscleaddict said:

I'll write an AJ & Noah sequel for 20 grand and nothing less.

Deal! Payment shared among all the AJ & Noah fans that would be a piece of cake (American expression?)!

June 14, 2020

2 minutes ago, DennisFLL said:

Deal! Payment shared among all the AJ & Noah fans that would be a piece of cake (American expression?)!

I'll leave it to you to arrange then, mate.

June 14, 2020

17 minutes ago, muscleaddict said:

I'll leave it to you to arrange then, mate.

I'll get jumping on it. Are you listening to this sjdmuscle?

June 14, 2020

Please tell me that something at least happens between Deano and Ryan. All this teasing is leaving me frustrated

June 14, 2020

Episode 7 =

===snip===