tagGay MaleHit the Showers

Hit the Showers

bykorokkero©

"So when are you two gonna make out already?!"

Michael, Ian, and Michelle all met in a Chemistry class at university, becoming fast friends. Over the last few years, the trio were inseparable, especially Michael and Ian. In the last few weeks, Michael and Ian had formed a habit of working out together when they found gaps in their schedules. As the warm spring days stretched into early summer and evenings grew longer, the two found the best way to take advantage of the extra sunlight was spending the added time working themselves into peak physical form. Once classes ended and they completed their after-school duties, the two would follow Ian's strict regimen of body-perfecting exercises for hours until both boys were exhausted and their muscles ached.

At first, Michael hardly registered Michelle's question. Out of instinct, he nodded, a knee-jerk reaction by someone only half-listening as another person talked. But it didn't take long for the gears to start turning and for Michael to, once fully comprehending her question, break into a full-on flop-sweat.

Michelle smirked - their playfully-coy friend lived with a smirk on her face. She gave Michael a playful nudge.

"C'mon," she goaded, "you guys have some crazy energy! Especially earlier when Ian was spotting you while you were doing bench presses?" Michelle let out a long whistle, fanning herself.

Michael remembered laying down on the bench, struggling with the extra 10 pounds Ian had goaded him into adding to the bar. He could feel sweat dripping from Ian's muscles onto his forehead. At some point when Ian leaned in to guide the bar into Michael's hands, he felt a very solid lump brush the top of his head, and Michael hoped the even breathing he maintained would hide the heat rising in his cheeks.

"I-I don't know what you're talking about," Michael stuttered, wiping the sweat away from his brow.

Michelle raised her eyebrows at Michael, grinning. She leaned against the wall, watching Ian do some post-workout stretches.

After hours of intense exercise, they both stretched their overworked muscles. Michael had finished his workout a few minutes prior, but waited until Ian had run a few cool-down laps around the building and did his own round of post-workout stretching before heading to the showers together.

"When did he take off his shirt..?" Michael wondered aloud, blinded by the glistening sweat covering Ian's sinewy frame.

"He takes off his glasses while he works out, huh..." Michelle looked over her shoulder at Michael. "Don't you think it's cool when guys who normally wear glasses suddenly take them off?"

In Chemistry lab, Michael had gotten so blindsided by the sight of Ian in his too-tight workout shirt and accidentally burned himself with a bunsen burner. He imagined the heat coming off his face was hotter than that.

"Y-you sure keep a close eye on Ian when he's working out..."

Michelle claimed she watched their training sessions to "keep an eye on his progress," and as a Biology major, Michael could understand intense observation in the name of gaining knowledge. Still, he had a suspicion there was more to it than she let on.

"It's not just me," Michelle defended herself, "you two watch each other pretty carefully when you're stretching before and after workouts."

Michael's heart pounded in his throat. "W-well, sure, it's like Ian says, monitoring each other for proper stretching form is important s-so we don't hurt ourselves. That's all it is." This didn't sound like the kind of research of a casual student. Or frankly, like research at all.

"Michelle! Michael! I'm finished with my post-workout stretches!"

Michael turned around, and unintentionally grimaced.

Adonis. Hercules. Achilles. Put the most striking men of antiquity in a pair of grey sweatpants, and you had Ian. Towering over both of them, Michael found himself eye-level with Ian's chest, sparkling in the afternoon sun, and found himself unable to look away. "Ian!" Michelle greeted him with enthusiasm, snapping Michael from his daze. "You two were really fired up this afternoon!"

Ian smiled. "You think so?" His smile rivaled the light of the sun. "Well, my success wouldn't be possible without the help of Michael."

Michael's face burned like a thousand fires. Unfortunately, Ian noticed.

"Michael!"

Ian gesticulated to his classmate's scorched cheeks.

"Y-y-y-y-yes?!"

Michelle snorted.

"Your face is bright red!" Ian yelled, without any pause, his hands waving frantically. "Did you forget to wear sunblock during our training session? Even if it's late, the sun's rays are actually strongest in the afternoon! You have to be mindful of your exposure to UV rays!"

Michael tried desperately to hide his face in the collar of his shirt, but to no avail.

"N-n-no, it's just-"

"Are you overheated?" Ian carried on. "Maybe it would be best if you took a cold shower!"

Michelle stifled laughter, and Michael knew if this kept up he'd actually die of a heart attack.

"Y-yep, good idea!" Turning on his heel, Michael kept his face covered with one hand, and waved over his shoulder with the other. "S-see you in the showers - crap! - I-I-I mean, see you!"

Unable to control herself any longer, Michelle broke into a fit of giggles.

---

"Are you sure you're feeling alright, Michael?" Ian asked.

Michael wasn't insecure about his body at all; he'd always been on the leaner side, and was considerably shorter than most guys, but had no qualms about being naked around others. The problem was, Ian wasn't just anyone Ian was tall and broad, an avid bodybuilder who took as much pride in his muscle as he did in his Kinesiology research. No one would be able to resist sneaking peeks in the shower at someone so statuesque. Today, however, the showers were empty, save for the two of them.

"Hm? Oh, yeah..." Michael replied, and meant it. Cool water always managed to soothe his nerves. Still, he wondered if telling Ian about his tangled thoughts courtesy of the seed planted by Michelle would do more harm than good.

"...Can I ask you something, Michael?" Ian chimed in.

Michael turned to look at Ian, soap dripping down his head, water rolling down his perfectly-sculpted body.

"S-sure," Michael responded, only slightly distracted.

"Did Michelle ask you about our training session too?"

Michael felt his stomach drop through the floor.

"...Too'?"

"Well..." Ian trailed off, reformulating his sentence, "it was less about our training session, and more about-"

After a pregnant pause, Michael could hear Ian gesticulating even though he'd briefly turned away.

"Michael, I'd like to make it clear - what I'm about to say is summarizing Michelle's words."

Michael gulped.

"O-Okay..."

"Michelle says that... that we have energy."

When he turned in surprise, Michael caught Ian's attention, and they locked eyes. He was surprised to see a hint of a blush in Ian's cheeks.

So he wasn't the only one she'd talked to about this.

"I-is that so?"

Ian gave a sober nod. "I respect her honesty, however, she sometimes says more than might be appropriate in a given situation..."

Ian's honesty came from a place of maintaining order. Meanwhile, Michelle's honesty came from a place, frankly, of sewing chaos. It made sense that their polar opposites of frankness would create friction.

He let out a nervous chuckle. "Y-yeah, Michelle sure says some crazy stuff sometimes." As the tension in his shoulders unwound, he let out a sigh. Maybe he could open the point to discussion, after all.

"Funny you mention that," Michael said, "she actually mentioned it to me, too."

It wasn't like he'd never considered it. He valued Ian's friendship and the time they spent together, of course, and he was undeniably good-looking. It was possible Ian had similar thoughts, but he wouldn't dare to ask a question like that. But that's all these feelings amounted to, just an appreciation of their strong bond as friends... right?

"What kind of 'energy' do you think she was talking about?" He couldn't help but chuckle, remembering the way Michelle ogled Ian as he stretched. "I mean, it's Michelle, so"

"-Sexual."

Michael froze, his hands in the midst of scrubbing soap into his scalp. He turned over his shoulder to look at his friend.

"S-Sexual..?"

Ian stared at Michael with an unmoving gaze, until the pressure became too much, and Michael looked away.

"W-well..."

"Michael."

Looking back to his friend, he noticed Ian had closed some of the distance in the open showers between them, and suddenly, Michael felt incredibly small.

"You're thinking about it too, aren't you?"

He felt his cheeks burning.

"Wh-wh-what do you mean?"

"If Michelle is right."

Michael's heart shot into his throat.

"I'd like to hear your opinion, Michael," Ian said, his tone careful.

"Ian..."

Michael's back pressed into the tile wall of the showers, engulfed by the presence of his friend's incredible body.

"Michael," Ian's voice had a raspy, harsh tone. Michael examined Ian's face closing in.

He knew Ian well enough to pick out the moments when his friend had trouble expressing himself. Clearly, this was one of those rare moments.

"Tell me if you've considered it before," Ian pleaded. "I'd appreciate your discretion."

"W-well, uh..."

Every muscle had been perfectly sculpted from years of body-perfecting exercises, each one targeted, their form purposeful. Now close enough to Michael to be in range of his shower head, droplets of water rolled down Ian's taut chest, down his firm, rippling abs, glistening on his perfect thighs. His eyes settled below Ian's waist, and his eyes were like dinner plates.

Michael straightened himself up, returning Ian's gaze with an almost aggressive look. It was like furrowing his brows at his friend broke some of his resolve; Ian's brows softened, eyes widening. He suddenly looked afraid, like a big dog who had just been punished. Finally, Ian let out a resigned sigh, his shoulders drooping.

Maybe Michelle was right. There was enough tension, at least, to get them this far. But now Ian, who made the first move, didn't have the fortitude to follow through. How, then, did they expect this ship to sail?

Sometimes, if you really want something, you have to get it yourself. Michael knew that better than anyone. And the heat pooling below his waist was just the push he needed. He pulled Ian down into a deep kiss, clumsily slamming their lips together. Ian went rigid in surprise, but unwound the tension in his shoulders with a sigh, and his hands fell on Michael's body.

As Ian's hands trailed over his body, the soft palms of his enormous hands on his skin, Michael felt a sudden wash of dread. This was a mistake. He'd taken advantage of the weird tension built up after a friend's off-color comment, maybe they should slow down, at least until-

Briefly coming up for air, Ian sighed into his neck.

"Michael..."

He shivered from head to toe.

Then again.... why pass up an experience like this...

For whatever reason, Michael suddenly found himself self-conscious about the placement of his hands. Really, he felt self-conscious about where to put his... anything. As he froze up, the familiar shame crept over him, and Ian sensed his discomfort, briefly pulling away. "Is there something wrong?" Ian's furrowed brow had softened, a good look for his famously-uptight friend.

The water from the shower roared in Michael's ears.

"Uh, n-no, it's just-" Michael strung words together in his mind, but the sentences dissolved into sounds the minute he tried to voice them. When he finally found the words, he tried to maintain an even, rational tone.

"I-I mean, it's just really sudden right?? Are we really gonna do something like this just because Ashton said we looked good together?! M-Maybe it's just-"

"Michael, can I make a confession?"

Water dripped from Ian's hair, over his brows. Michelle was right - without his glasses, the usually good-looking Ian somehow looked ten times more attractive.

"It's not... just something she brought up without reason."

"...What?"

Ian grunted, bothered. Michael could see his cheeks turning pink.

"It's not like I had some nefarious reasoning behind asking you to be my workout partner. This didn't come up until fairly recently."

Ian chomped his lower lip.

"M-Michelle..." Ian stuttered uncharacteristically... "She has a keen eye for these things. She picked it out early on in our training sessions. I don't have much experience in this area, but she gave me some ideas on what I should do."

Michael's head spun. How long had they been conspiring?

"Like... what?"

The energy surrounding Ian changed. His eyes became serious.

"This."

Before he could say or do anything or react with anything beyond a yelp of surprise, Ian had his hands tangled into Michael's hair, pressing him against the wall with his body and slammed himself once again to his friend's mouth.

The shame was immediately replaced by an intense, primal hunger. And judging by the way Ian kissed and bit him, he wasn't the only one.

Ian had lived a privileged, comfortable life. Despite the time he put into training his body to be firm and strong, his skin was smooth, broad shoulders like silk, the soft skin trailing down his back to his firm butt. Michael squeezed, feeling Ian go rigid up in his grip, and a hand reached down to his waist and squeezed back, the skin giving under Ian's fingertips. The hand still in Michael's hair tugged with more force than Ian probably realized... not that he would complain.

With that firm tug, Michael let out an unexpected moan. He seized up in embarrassment, and Ian pulled away for a moment to give him a curious look.

"M-Michael..?" His tone was less "are you okay" and more "what the hell was that?" But Ian was far too polite to ask the latter.

"S-sorry," He winced, cheeks reddening, and the question was quickly put to rest. In a sudden burst of inspiration, Michael knelt down, coming face-to-face with his friend's lap, and marveled at the sight.

Oh.

He'd been naked in the showers with Ian before, and of course, caught sight of his body in all its naked glory, but never had he gotten a chance to really marvel at how perfect his body was. Soaked head to toe, the water traveled the crevasses of his muscles in rivers and droplets. Michael reached his hands up to grip Ian's thighs, the skin giving under his fingertips. Michelangelo himself couldn't have sculpted a man more perfect than Ian.

With one hand on Ian's hip, Michael curled his fingers around the base of his friend's thick, throbbing, dripping cock. Without announcing himself, he took the tip into his mouth and felt Ian shudder.

"M-Michael!" Ian reached out and gripped his friend's hair again, squeezing tight on his locks and tugging on his scalp.

He took that as a good sign.

Working his tongue up and down the shaft, he used those firm or gentle hair tugs and his friend's loud moans as a guide to tell him whether he was doing a good enough job. His hot mouth lapped at the tip of his penis first, in quick circular motions, and then his tongue came out and pressed against the shaft as he made a few curious trips from tip to base. Noting how Ian whimpered and panted, Michael concentrated on different areas, occasionally taking the whole thing into his mouth, leaving Ian struggling for breath.

"O-Oh," his friend whimpered pitifully, "I'm...I'm going to-"

Surprised by the feeling of hot liquid filling his throat as Ian shuddered and moaned, Michael pulled away at the most inopportune moment. He pulled Ian's cock out of his own mouth, but it wasn't done - the hot liquid continued to spurt forth, all over Michael's hair and face. Shuddering and whimpering as he emptied the last of his load on his friend, Michael felt the still-firm shaft pulsing, hands loosening their grip.

Releasing his hand from the shaft base, Michael reached up to feel the hot liquid in his hair clump together, remnants of it dripping down his face. He heard Ian gasp, and looked up. Although still breathless, Ian looked mortified. He covered his mouth, steadying his breath.

"O-oh no," Ian breathed. "M-Michael, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to-"

Michael opened his mouth to speak, but more of Ian's cum dribbled out, down his chin. As he watched, Ian's already-scarlet face deepened in color.

Michael furrowed his brow, cum running down his forehead. The water washed away much of the mess from his forehead, the creamy remnants swirling down the drain.

For a mess like this, there was only one good way to clean it up.

Standing and fixing his gaze on Ian, Michael gripped his friend's chiseled jaw. Squishing the soft skin of Ian's cheeks between his fingers, his hopeless friend could do nothing but watch as Michael slammed his open mouth against his. Forcefully, he jammed his tongue into his throat, returning Ian's surprise delivery as he shoved his tongue into Ian's mouth. Ian struggled only for a moment, before realizing what was happening, and loosened the tension in his body.

Ian reached up and squeezed his friend's law, pulling him deeper into a damp kiss, pleading for more. As they pulled away, the trail of combined semen and saliva formed a bridge between their soft lips, until Michael straightened up to his full extension. Ian stared at him, dumbfounded, saliva and cum dripping down his chin. Michael had never seen his eyes wider.

Ian gulped, surprised, swallowing the load deposited by Michael into his throat.

"I..." Ian stammered, as they pulled their hands back from one another. He reached up to wipe the trail of spit from his jaw with the back of his hand. "...Thank you."

It was so matter-of-fact, after something like that. But somehow, so Ian.

Michael smiled, gulping down what was left in his own mouth. "Y-yeah," he returned with the same cracking voice "...sure." He reached behind him, turning off the shower head.

"Sh-should we... should we thank Michelle?" Ian suggested, bashfully.

Michael paused, looking at his friend in surprise, before bursting into laughter.

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by Anonymous

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by Markbike07/03/18

Blushes

more...

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by Anonymous07/02/18

Love them

Love Michael and Ian, and they are obviously keen on exploring each other. Hope this was just the beginning, and that they will get together in a bed or on a couch and go at it again. Ian should returnmore...

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by Anonymous07/02/18

Hot, but who's Ashton?

Good enough for a first attempt. Could you write something longer?

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