Work Text:
Bradley hated using the gym that most of the student body used. It wasn’t like he usually did, of course. This place was too dirty and disgusting for his taste. You’re more than likely to see someone doing cocaine on the toilet seat than you are to see someone actually workout in this dump. That’s why, when Bradley walked in this afternoon, he was surprised to hear someone actually working out. The clink of dumbbells was the first thing that entered the air.
The brunette perks his head over to the source of the noise. He couldn’t correctly see over the half wall, but he supposes it wasn’t really any of his business anyways. Grabbing at his neck he slides the card over in the check in station, the technology making a cheerful chirp at welcoming him. He puts a hand on his hip as he waits, walking over to the far right of the room. It’s been a bit since he’s been here. His fraternity gym was enough for him, especially since when he was in there, nobody would disturb him. That place was in the route of a renovation, though, and Bradley tried to pay the company for him to use it anyway but they didn’t take the bribe.
Looking at the signs, he goes to the left where the “men” sign with a guy lifting weights was the picture at the front. Bradley raised an eyebrow to that out of annoyance. What was this damn picture implying? That women couldn’t be stronger than men? He rolls his eyes at the rhetoric imagery and opens the heavy wood door, letting it shut behind him with a thud. He looked around to find nobody standing around or chatting. His tanned hand reached up and slid off his loose white shirt to put on his regular black tank top, slipping the spaghetti straps over his shoulders. He didn’t even care if his top surgery scars showed. Whoever else was out there didn’t need to be looking there anyways.
Scraping the deodorant against his skin, Bradley yawns and stretches his arms upwards, stretching his body, and with that, his clothes upwards. He looked over and saw his developing v-line, smirking at himself. He admired himself in the mirror, which wasn’t out of the ordinary unlike this gym. His thumbs hooked around the pants he was wearing when he walked over to this place. Sifting the cloth down, he looked down at his boxers. He started choosing boxers lately and he saw a boost of confidence in himself. It even convinced his hookup yesterday he had a dick instead of the cunt he truly had down there. Not that it mattered to the horny and drunk bastard, he still was a boring fuck. Bradley only cringes at the recount of his night.
He slipped on his gym shorts, a stern black with some white outlines. A pair of luxury shorts that, realistically, didn’t look any different from something you could get if you walked into a grocery store and grabbed off a rack. It still made Bradley feel as posh as he always did. He pops a piece of gum into his mouth and plugs his wired earphones in, opening a locker and inputting his pin before walking away. His white gym shoes hit the switch from sterile tile to cheap wood floors. Plugging the earphones into his MP3, his eyes scan the area. Seems the person who was here earlier probably left.
Bradley looked at the lower quality treadmill. Searching for the on button, he plants himself onto the mat, putting his water bottle in the small circular compartment to the right of his body. The arrow was pressed down as the brunette moved it to a running pace. He took one deep breath and started to jog, counting himself on how many breaths he took, and reminding himself to take some time if needed be. His feet heavily smashed against the mat, turning the speed up again. He really wanted to challenge himself today.
“Holy shit, is that Avril Lavigne?”
Bradley’s heart stopped and locked up his legs. He let out a choked yelp as that caused him to fall and land off the treadmill. Tumbling down, he landed on his back, and could do nothing but snap his eyes open and look up. Standing right in front of his view was Max Goof, the X-Games champion. Bradley felt a blood vessel pop. Goddamn, this was supposed to be a good day.
Max had one hand in his grey sweatpants, one pierced eyebrow quirked up with the other holding his water bottle. He snickered down at Bradley.
“You listen to Avril Lavigne? Seriously?” Max stepped back for Bradley to get ahold of himself, “Didn’t know you listen to her. I thought you were, like, I don’t know, some classical shithead or something. Like, someone that refused to admit the guitar is a good instrument like a piano.”
“Shut the hell up, Goof,” Bradley, despite himself, popped one of his wired headphones out, scowling, “What the fuck are you doing here anyways?”
“Uh, it’s a public gym for the college? Did that fall really make you bust your head that bad? We might need to call an ambulance for you, Uppercrust.”
“Fuck off,” Bradley scoffed, closing his eyes and perking his head up, “It’s not like you’ve been here long. I bet you only do some stretching before you’re wheezing from the energy it takes up, Goof.”
The brunette only saw Max’s lips slip up. Those beautiful snake bites, goddamn. Bradley and most of the women on campus could agree on one part. Max Goof was the epitome of someone’s wet dream. He really grew since the X-Games, especially into the looks that the women described. Bradley narrowed his eyes on a specific sharp part of Max’s jawline, scrolling over the other’s facial looks.
“Been here longer than you have,” Max shrugs, looking away to a mirror and pointing to a lifting station, “Was just about to get back to my workout, actually.”
“Well, then get to it and fucking leave me alone, and don’t stare at me,” Bradley pointed at him, “And don’t get any other ideas to catch me off guard, you fucker.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Max paused, looking Bradley up and down with a shit-eating grin, “Still haven’t answered my question, though. You really like Avril Lavigne?”
“Uh, no?! It’s just… uhm,” Bradley tensed, “It’s just a randomized playlist anyways! Not like you understand that at all, Goof.”
“I know what a damn MP3 player is. I wasn’t born in 1920.”
“Whatever. Just don’t ask me any more questions. I don’t need to have a migraine while working out. Not good for the skin or the heart anyways.”
“I’m surprised you got a heart,” Max remarks a bit sharply, “You sure act like you don’t.”
“Okay! Are you just going to belittle me, or are you actually going to get back to fucking working out?!” Bradley snaps.
The pierced shrugs, “Hey, you’re the one getting mad, not me. I can do this back and forth all day if you wish. Cool down with your “commoner” treadmill, Your Majesty.”
“It’s Bradley, you imbecile!” Bradley makes his hands into fists. He felt his eye twitch, staring at Max with complete rage and hatred. It was like Max got off onto making him angry or something from how much the other drove Bradley up a wall. It was frustrating and sexually frustrating all at the same time, such a conflicting sense of emotions that it made the brunette pause on saying anything else hurtful.
Bradley decided to be the bigger person. Literally. He bets his clit is bigger than whatever Max has packing anyways. He does a quick middle finger in Max’s face before abruptly turning away, slowing the treadmill down to get on it. He hears a quick chuckle and the gym eating the echo of the sounds up. The brunette juts his lip out and really amps the speed up in quick succession. He closed his eyes and ran with the speed that the black machine was throwing at him. His feet slammed against the machine in stomps. He needed to get this pent up energy out, his breathing coming out rough and heavy.
After some time, Bradley peeled an eye open to what his time elapsed. Fifteen minutes of this pace wasn’t bad, but it definitely wasn’t his best. He grit his eyebrows together in irritation and slipped his head back down to focus. He had to go for twenty or at the very least twenty-five. The next time he looked up, he smirked to himself as he saw twenty-two. Slowing down, he slammed the pause button and took out his notepad, jotting down the information blinking in front of him.
“Hey, Bradley!” Max called out, his voice booming over to the leg station, “Need some help!”
Bradley let out a groan, loud and pissed, “Shut the hell up, Goof! I’m not helping you for shit!” The brunette whipped back around to his time and calorie loss.
“Dude, come on,” Max chuckled, “It’s just some spotting. Kinda need to do it for this exercise, deadlift and all.”
“Not shocked you picked the dumbbells, Goof,” Bradley said while writing down, “You know, read the first word of that word.”
“Oh haha, yeah whatever. Come help me, you dick.”
“Nope,” Bradley shrugs, “Gotta have to do it yourself. You can do that, can’t you, freshman?”
Max went silent, letting Bradley think he won that little quip fight. The brunette ticked to himself as he saw his results. They weren’t as good as the rest of his week-long workouts but it would do and add onto his tallying amount of hours this week. The pad clicked shut when the plastic cover covered it with an inaudible clink. Bradley was about to leave for another machine before he realized right where that machine was.
Right across from where Max was going to be doing his dumbbells and deadlift. Bradley internally groaned, and wanted to shout it across the room so Goof could really hear how much of a hindrance he was to Bradley Uppercrust’s legacy.
“Let me guess,” Max whistles, “You were gonna do the leg machine across from me, but don’t want to, because I’m here?”
Bradley’s face flushes up with heat and pink going up his nape, making Bradley cover his face with his hand as he shies away. He hears Max make a snicker.
“Thought so,” Max fits some gum into his mouth while using his flip phone, “I don’t really know why this is working you up a wall so damn much, Brad. We’re both dudes, it’s not like you’re a chick and are gonna flash your tits on me by accident if you run fast or something.”
“You’re gross,” Bradley cringes, his lip curling, “Why the hell are you even thinking about that?”
Max shrugs again and lays back down on the cheaply made black plastic covering the cushion, “You tell me. Come on, help me. I can’t do this shit all by myself, you know. Put on some twenty.”
“... I don’t understand your slang here,” the brunette glided over, arms still crossed “What the hell do you mean by twenty?”
“Are you that dense? I mean the twenty bound weights. Jeez, do you really not go out in public that often at all?”
“Shut the fuck up, Goof! God, you’re so fucking annoying!”
Despite what he told himself, Bradley walked over to the weights and picked the weights naming themselves with the number 20. He slipped them onto each side while Max was preparing his hands with some of the gym chalk. Bradley looked away from Max, his eyebrows scrunched together and his posture the regular posh position he kept himself into. Hearing a small creak his eyes couldn’t help but flip over to the source. Max was sitting down and clutching his knuckles together to stretch them out. The other looks over with a grin.
“How much is on each side, Brad?” Max asks, laying down, “Wanna know what I’m in for.”
“Sixty,” Bradley looks at the numbers, then realizes, “You’re lifting fucking one-hundred and twenty pounds?!”
“Why are you shocked? That’s pretty basic if you get yourself up to it.”
“Uh, I don’t know?! Because that’s the average weight of an adult woman that’s, like, average height?! Do you hear yourself, Goof!”
“I think I hear myself pretty loud and clear, might not be over you, though.”
“Fuck, you’re so annoying,” Bradley complains, putting his hands in the air before they slap against his legs, his eye twitching, “Just- do your goddamn workout!”
“If you insist, Your Majesty.” Max winks, readying his shoulders and lifting his hands to the bar. And good lord, did Bradley want to squirt right in his boxers at that very moment. He tensed as he saw Max’s muscle start up, the other starting to grunt with the weight crushing down onto his arms. Bradley watched with rapt attention, his mouth slowly hanging open as he saw Max start to push the weight up. It was easily the weight of a human. It looked like Max did it so easy, like the damn thing was water instead of gravity pulling down onto him with a large mass.
Tingly sensations filled Bradley’s sensations, starting with his legs. He felt them squeeze together subtly and the fabric of his boxers squeezing together. Then, flowing up to his arms, he felt them crush over his stomach in a harsh sensation. His body felt as hot as the sun as it kept building and building up to the top of his ears. He wanted to look away, to rip any feeling of his heart away out of his chest and leave it to wilt on the ground. It would be lying to himself once more, though, and he hated feeling pity for himself later for it. Bradley gripped at his arms, healed over with cuts, and looked down to the floor in a one-sided staring competition.
“I bet I can lift your body weight, you know.”
The words came out like a sweetened margarita. Bradley felt his breath hitch as his heard turned around like an obedient mutt. He clenched his hands into fists at seeing the smug face that decorated Max’s handsome features. The other tilted his head, his water bottle in his head. Never breaking eye contact, deep brown and blue locked with each other as the X-Games champion took sips of his water. The soft sheen of sweat drilling out and shining his skin made Bradley reach down unconsciously to take ahold of his small shorts.
“What… What makes you say that, Goof?” Bradley hisses out, “Don’t get too cocky now. It’s a bad look on the Golden Boy.”
“You saying I can’t?”
“Yeah. Yeah, I am, actually,” Bradley finally gets the confidence to look over and pop his chest out in his regular pose, “I bet you can’t, Goof.”
“Well, then let’s test it out, yeah? Maybe you’ll be a record breaker for me.”
“Shut the hell up.”
“Make me pretty boy.”
The brunette felt even more taut at the lilt of words that came off of Max’s voice. Bradley took a deep breath and walked over, putting down his own water bottle and other equipment. He looked towards the door with a sudden jolt of insecurity. What if Max truly couldn’t lift him up? Or he did it so easily that it made him look thin, and not like the lean self he was trying to build after his surgeries?
“Hey, Brad,” Max, sounding suddenly worried, sat up a bit more, “We don’t have to if you, like, don’t want to. It was only a suggestion, seriously. You don’t have to do it for me if you don’t want to do it for you.”
“Shut the hell up,” Bradley repeats, scowling, “Just lift me up, cocky brat.”
“Look who’s talking,” Max teases back, “But seriously, dude. I don’t want to do shit if you don’t want to do it. That’s just icky, in my opinion, you know what I mean?”
“Goof, I don’t give a fuck. You have my consent or whatever the fuck you want out of me. Just fucking do it.”
“You got it, baby,” Max lays back down. Bradley stands there in front of Max’s legs for a moment, trying to figure out how to do this, and barely processing the nickname he was suddenly given. He slowly makes an effort to align himself chest-to-chest with Max, eyes taking in all of the body he can that was underneath his own. The other seemed to be on the same path Bradley was on. Not overly buff but still lean enough to where he could develop biceps.
Bradley took a look up to Max, eyes locking once more. The brunette paused in place. His hands started to move on their own without him knowing it correctly was going on. He slithered them around Max’s head before leaning down to get into a position where Max could properly grab onto him. He suddenly thought that this wasn’t really about what he weighed anymore.
“Not this way,” Max pouts, “I can’t do it this way.”
“The fuck? Yeah you can,” Bradley’s voice suddenly got quieter than he was used to on himself, “This is standard procedure for lifting someone up, as far as logic is clear on it.”
“Turn around for me?”
“Excuse me?”
“Just do it, Brad. Trust me on this one, yeah?” Max pats Bradley’s legs, lingering on squeezing a few seconds longer than what was probably regular, “You got this, or do I need to coax you into doing it, hm?”
“God, you get your damn seducing skills from a porno,” Bradley criticizes, though his red face told a different story on how he felt about it, “Get better lines when you’re trying to seduce someone on my level. You sound gross.”
Max stays silent with the same smirk he turned over to Bradley’s increasingly annoyed one. The brunette slowly turned around, his backside turned towards Max. He looks back nervously before turning back around, both his hands on Max’s knees. He straddles Max’s waist on either side, slowly lowering himself. Bradley kept himself standing enough to lift a good chunk of his weight off Max.
A slap made Bradley jump and whimper. God, that hurt, but it felt so good. He looked back towards Max with a small scowl.
“Hell was that for?”
“All your weight, baby,” Max husked, “I gotta see if I can carry all of you, yeah? Lower those pretty hips onto me.”
“You act like a damn pervert,” Bradley shot back, “Do you want me to crush your cock?”
“That would be fine, if I got to see this ass before I had to get sent to the ER,” Max grips the flesh with a flash of teeth biting onto his lip with the snake bites, a few more impacts echoing throughout the empty space only two sweating bodies occupied, “God, have you always had an ass like this? I can’t believe I haven’t noticed before.”
Bradley was in absolute shambles. The pain was stinging but it was such a good sting that he didn’t care that small tears welled up in his eyes from the eventual hand prints that would be imprinted onto his skin by tomorrow, if not tonight. The brunette lets out a pathetic whimper as his hips lower, his ass pressing right against Max’s dick. To no shock of Bradley, his nemesis’ cock was rock hard. He closed his eyes and waited for the disgust, or maybe the objectification of his body from Max. He waited for that moment that this would turn from hot to something he would have to heal over by tomorrow morning by himself in his frat room.
“Holy fuck,” Max breathed with a giggle, “You feel so good. Give me that ass right now, fuck it. Come here.”
Bradley let out a stiff moan as he felt his gym shorts trail off. Another slap to his left signaled he had to lift his left, which he obeyed like he was on a leash. Then the shorts, along with his boxers that were sticky with slick, were tossed onto the wood. Bradley shuffled back enough for Max to grab at his hips once more. A small sound escaped him as he was forced to stumble back a little more for Max to gain access.
“Mind if I use fingers?” Max asked, “Or no penetration period?”
“Goof!” Bradley shouted enough, his hips shooting back onto Max’s face with a satisfied, breathy moan of his own, “God, fuck. Oh, shit.”
For a man he usually hated talking and using his tongue, Max was easily the best fuck that Bradley had, and he hadn’t even had his dick inside of him yet. This was only his tongue that was sliding against his folds. He felt Max’s tongue work him like he was a sweet dessert. The tip of his tongue glided over just the little underside of his clit before sliding back into the caverns of his folds. The wetness of the saliva soon was making noises as Max dove in and ate like his life depended all on Bradley’s pleasure.
The brunette threw his head back with a shiver, his body tensing up as he gripped at Max’s knees. He couldn’t just let Max do all the work, he knew the other would tease him about it for god knows however. And it was also a shitty move altogether with this stuff. Bradley, with all the strength he could muster, leaned down to Max’s gym pants, tugging the fabric down enough to get ahold of Max’s own boxers. Bradley leaned down and breathed over the clothed dick straining against another barrier. Max let out a shiver, pulling back enough to pant and moan out.
“Oh, shit,” Max whispered against his cunt, leaning back in for another wet swipe across the entire mound, “Been wanting to do this to you for months now. You’re a fucking fantasy, quite literally.”
In desperate hands, the brunette yanked the boxers down and took the tip of his tongue to lick a stripe up from the base to the slit at the top. He gently dug a thumb in and curved his thumb against the head. He shivered as he felt Max’s tongue prod at his hole in tiny little strikes and movements of his tongue. Bradley took a spud of his spit and let it leak out of his mouth, dripping down as his hand started to pump up and down.
“Best cock I’ve seen,” Bradley admits unconsciously, “You make me so desperate for you, Max. Please, oh god, please. Just fucking… fuck!”
Bradley cries out as he feels a finger enter him. Those beautiful, long, thick fingers he saw grip his waist only minutes earlier. Bradley dove for it, his mouth opening to accommodate Max’s dick in his mouth. He licked at the head and carefully circled his tongue around the tip that was rapidly dripping with his spit. He closed his eyes to enjoy the sensations that were tingling and attacking his body from all over. Max’s tongue was so skilled, but that also applied to his finger, which was now at it’s second knuckle.
“Traffic light system,” Max breathed out against Bradley’s mound, “Do you know it?”
“I’m not…” Bradley took a deep breath, pumping Max in his hand as he did so, “I’m not an idiot, Max.”
“You called me Max. Holy shit.”
“Don’t… god… don’t get used to it, asshole,” Bradley murmured, “Just go back to fucking me with your tongue and fing- god! Yes! Right there, yes!”
Bradley’s voice squealed as Max’s finger hit a deep part within him. He could basically hear Max’s shit-eating grin as his tongue dove back in, licking around his entrance with quick laps of his tongue. Bradley moaned and dove back onto the cock in front of him in return of thanks. Pleasure was pumping throughout his entire body. His legs were shaking and struggling to keep him afloat, but Max’s other hand occupied that help, straddling Bradley's right side and that part of his abdomen.
One thing was for sure, Bradley now could confirm what was rumored about Max Goof. His tongue licked around a piece of metal that went through Max’s cock. It made all of it so much hotter to Bradley. He let out a complete and utter pathetic whimper at the iron taste on his tongue. He salivated after it, his head bobbing up and down to service the glorious cock that was in his hand. Whatever didn’t fit inside of Bradley’s bratty throat was held by his hand and given proper care as well. His hips started to circle Max’s face in a rhythm, which Max happily obliged to let his finger go at the same pace. Which was a quick beat that serviced Bradley quite well.
The brunette gagged constantly on the length but it wasn’t anything he couldn’t handle. He slowly peeled himself back to suckle at the head before opening his throat to allow more of the salty taste to enter his mouth. His blue eyes were swelling with tears. Mainly from the tingles still down at his ass, but from the pleasure he felt as well. His hips were not in the clean circle they were once in. Now, they were a rapid fire of grinding, Max adding a second finger did not help at all whatsoever. Bradley was humping Max’s face, not wanting to pull away from the sweet embrace of his tongue.
Bradley was constantly moaning now. It wasn’t the short huffs and noises he got from other guys, but true and genuine pleasure rushing through his entire body that could burst at any moment with the right amount of stimulation. His sex was crying out for release and he couldn’t help holding back from his desires. He felt the free hand that Max had curl into his head, pushing him down onto Max’s cock. Bradley felt his eyes open wide in shock, before he had to quickly shut them as Max’s release spilled into his mouth. At the same time, Bradley felt a liquid gush out of his cunt. A spray that got all over his rivals fingers and mouth.
Max freed his hand, and while Bradley would cringe out normally from having his own bodily fluids spread onto him, he didn’t mind as Max held his hips up. Max’s mouth was a constant suction on his hole, garnering more of the clear liquid out of Bradley’s cunt. While the brunette choked down Max’s come. He found himself savoring every drop as if it were a delicious meal at a five-star, six-course restaurant. Bradley slowly came up after swallowing, popping off with heaves of his chest. He tried to gather himself but the pieces of himself were too split apart right now.
It had to be a few minutes before Max made the first move. He slowly, and emphasis on slowly, gathered Bradley off him. Bradley was ready to limp away and garner his stuff before Max let Bradley sit down on the machine, Max moving back so his rival had more room to breathe. The black-haired gently hit the bars at the back of the machine. He had his hands outstretched but never went towards Bradley. The brunette looked ever confused but he could understand the small communication, even if silent and they haven’t known each other for long. It was an understanding that Bradley may not want the intimacy of comfort.
Though, the brunette found himself coming close anyways, slowly wrapping his hands around Max and pulling him in. He let Max’s head rest against his chest, seeing Max look down and stare at his scars. Here comes the objectification, Bradley knew it.
“You have cool scars,” Max hummed, pressing the right side of his face against the flat of Bradley’s breathing chest, their breaths aligning with each other in a symphony, “Did it hurt?”
“Uhm,” Bradley tried to find his brains to answer that question so he didn’t sound stupid, “I… I think.”
Max lifted his head up with a tilt and a smile, “Sorry, shouldn’t ask too many questions right now, huh? Uh… you know, that was all consensual, right? Is there anything you didn’t like?”
“If you ask one more time, I will kill you.”
“Haha. Noted.”