Archive of Our Own

Phainon never liked exercising much. He was a sleep-deprived college student who survived out of caffeine and junk foods and pure spite from the unrealistic deadlines. Moving his body would just mean adding another assignment. 

But here he was, for the first time in his life, standing outside the gym near his house just because his sister Cyrene registered him as a gym member without his knowledge. So you could have a healthier lifestyle, she said. How generous. 

She also paid for the personal trainer he had already strongly opposed. Of course her nosy ass did. 

Now he was just standing awkwardly outside of the gym, feeling overly anxious. He was used to routines, a slight change terrified him. Usually at this time, he had grabbed his third coffee of the day and buried himself on his laptop until morning came again. Lately he had been getting a well-rested sleep and food. It felt weird, sleeping and eating had always been optional to him. 

He reached for the door, fingers trembling, and pushed the door open while taking a deep breath. He wasn’t sure if the shakiness came from caffeine withdrawal or pure terror at getting corrected on form later. He couldn’t think he would ever sleep peacefully again if that happened, and he was so going to blame Cyrene for that. 

Phainon knew his body wasn’t bad in the slightest—not to be arrogant or something—but he was also fully aware that he didn't have the best energy; he got tired from three stairs and was always sick in cold weather.

The air felt too hot for his own liking. He scrunched his nose as the smell of sweat hit his nose without permission. What a scary place.

He showed the person in the register counter his ID card as they led him to the main gym area. “Your personal trainer will be here soon. Now if you excuse me.” They bowed at him, Phainon bowed back.

He scanned the whole place. Too many people… too many noises. He hunched his shoulder, making himself appear smaller and unconfident. He squeezed the gym ID nervously—Cyrene had done all the hassle of filling in his biodata by herself, finally doing him a real favor: “Just enter with the ID card I already set for you. I have also done you the favor of texting your personal trainer, he already knows you. So you don’t have to do anything else, you just have to be healthier. Please.” The desperation in her voice was prominent. How could Phainon say no?

He felt stupid standing in the middle of the room, unsure of what to do. A warm hand suddenly touched his bare shoulder. He shrieked.

“Phainon, right?”

He looked back and holy shit–

This dude behind him looked hot. Like. Illegally hot. He should’ve come with a warning label. His long strawberry blonde hair was pulled back in a messy bun, red tattoo gleaming with his sweat, his black tight top clung to him like a second skin and Phainon swore he could literally count his abs. One… two… six… wait— EIGHT??? He had eight fucking bricks.

Phainon had never dated anyone in his life, but he had always sworn on Cyrene’s life that he was straight. Men were trash, shittier than shit. All they did was joke too loudly in the library and ghost you on group projects while you carried their useless asses.

But right now? Maybe… not?

Wait.

No.

Yes.

Yes. He was gay. He guessed?

The man’s nose looked like he could ride on it; the bridge stood tall and sharp, there was a little cute hump on it and gods, he wanted the man to hump–

“Did I get the wrong person?” The man lifted his one thick, annoyingly perfect eyebrow. 

Phainon felt his glasses slowly sliding down his nose, urging him to snap out of his stupidity. Stop it, you fucking loser. He quickly shoved them back up, cleared his throat way too loudly, and stammered: “Yes, yes, yes… I’m Phainon. And you are uh… my supposed-to-be personal trainer, correct?”

Kill me.

Why would he say yes three times? Who the fuck said correct? Did he think he was in a job interview?! He was genuinely going to die out of embarrassment before the workout even started.

“Yes. I am Mydeimos. Mydei, for short," the man said, his voice beautifully deep and calm. “I will be the one to help you for the next three months.” He offered a small smile, barely there, then gestured to Phainon to follow him.

He didn’t raise his voice but why did something in him rise?

Phainon trailed after him like a pathetic duckling, eyes glued to those massive arms. He calmed himself—no, his… something...—down. Gods. One flex and he’d probably pop like a ketchup packet. Being crushed to death by those biceps sounded like a heavenly way to die. 10/10. Would recommend.

Okay. Lock the fuck in. Stop thirsting.

But Mydei was out here built like a Greek god who did steroids—

Okay. Okay. He was eager to be a better version of himself now.

“Should we do the warm up first?” Mydei asked, startling Phainon out of his daze.

“Yeah. Sure.” 

“Watch how I do the warm up first. You will follow my lead after I’m done, okay?” 

That voice of his. Oh my god. His voice sounded attractively gruff, but the tone of his was somehow way too soft. Sexy, beautiful, amazing body, a soft spoken man. What more could Phainon ask for? 

“That’s all. Now it’s your turn to do it.” In a blink of an eye, Mydei was done demonstrating the movement while Phainon was busy looking at the way his biceps flexed. 

Phainon panicked. He wasn’t even paying attention the whole time! Was it better for him to ask Mydei to redo it and risk himself to be seen as an ogler—much to his overthinking—or risk himself to be embarrassed because he messed up the easiest part of exercising: warming up?

Well, whatever. He already embarrassed himself enough, he thought.

Phainon quickly put down his favorite yellow bag at the bench, took off his purple sweater to reveal his sleeveless white shirt. He rubbed his arms, suddenly aware of Mydei’s eyes on him. He looked horrible, didn’t he? How unfair.

“Can you show me one more time how to do it?”

Mydei let out a chuckle. He shook his head as he demonstrated again. Oh no. He probably thought he was such an idiot for not knowing how to do the most basic thing, or that Phainon was being a pervert. 

“Pay attention carefully this time.” Mydei stepped closer, way closer than necessary. His voice dropped a little, Phainon hadn't even started the workout but he could feel his heart racing. “Arms up like this.”

Phainon copied him, but his elbows were all wrong. Mydei didn’t say anything. Instead he moved behind him, big hands landing on Phainon’s shoulders. His touch was really warm, fingers pressing firmly to guide his posture. Phainon’s brain suffered a temporary seizure.

“Relax your shoulders. You’re too tense.” Mydei’s breath brushed the back of his neck as he adjusted Phainon’s arms higher. Those hands slid down his sides, thumbs brushing the edge of his shirt where little of his skin peeked out. “Breathe with the movement. In… and out.”

His thumbs. His thumbs fucking brushed his skin. What if Mydei could feel his fats?! He survived with mostly junkfoods, of course he would have a chubby stomach. Not that Mydei would care, he was literally trained for this; but Phainon cared, a shit lot.

Phainon tried. He really did. But all he could focus on was how Mydei’s chest was almost one with his back, how the man’s scent—sweat and musky—filled his nose. His own arms started shaking after ten seconds.

He swore to god it wasn't that he was too unathletic; Mydei was distracting him. That must be on purpose??? No? No way. Mydei looked serious in doing his job.

Mydei circled to the front, crouching a bit so they were eye level. “Legs wider.” He tapped Phainon’s inner thigh with two fingers, pushing gently until Phainon spread his stance.

Phainon felt the touch for half a second too long. His face heated up. Was trainer supposed to do this? It felt far too intimate. Or maybe he was just an overly horny teenage boy who never got laid (unless by tons of paperwork). 

He followed the next stretch, bending forward. Mydei’s hand pressed flat on his lower back to keep him from rounding his spine. His palm was right above his ass. Phainon bit the inside of his cheek so hard he almost drew blood.

Don’t get hard. Don’t you fucking dare get hard right now Phainon.

“Good,” Mydei murmured. “Hold it there.” He stayed crouched, face way too close to Phainon’s hip. Phainon could see a bead of sweat running down Mydei’s neck, disappearing into the collar of that tight black top. He wanted to clean it with his tongue—

Mydei suddenly straightened up and demonstrated the next move; some kind of torso twist. Phainon tried, but his balance sucked. What did you expect from a sleep deprived college student anyway? 

Mydei caught him immediately, one arm wrapping around his waist from behind to steady him. The other hand landed on Phainon’s chest, fingers splayed right over his sternum. “Core tight,” Mydei said, more to himself. His thumb brushed over Phainon’s nipple through the thin shirt. Accident? Probably. But Phainon’s cock twitched anyway. Traitor.

They did a few more stretches. Every correction came with hands. Mydei’s palm on his thigh during a lunge, gripping to adjust the depth. Fingers tracing his spine when he did cat-cow on the mat.

At one point Mydei knelt in front of him for a hamstring stretch, hands sliding up the back of Phainon’s legs until they were dangerously close to his ass. Phainon stared at the ceiling emptily and prayed to every gods he could remember that his half-chub wasn’t obvious in these stupid gym shorts.

“You’re doing well,” Mydei said after the last stretch. He was smiling again, that small barely-there thing that made Phainon’s heart did a flip. “Most new people are stiffer than you.”

Phainon laughed nervously. “Yeah, well. I sit in front of a laptop like it’s my life support.”

Mydei didn't seem to mind. His eyes flicked down Phainon’s body, staying there uncomfortably long. Phainon shifted his weight from foot to foot. “We’ll fix that.”

They eventually moved on to actual exercises. Mydei started him on the bench press. Light bar, no plates at first; perfect for beginners. Phainon lay down and gripped the bar like it owed him money. He wasn't just a beginner okay? he was below that.

Mydei spotted him from above, leaning over the bar so his crotch was basically hovering near Phainon’s face. Those tight shorts left nothing to the imagination. Phainon tried to focus on the bar but his eyes kept drifting up. The outline was right there. He could see the shape. It was so damn big and— he was going to hell.

“Push up slowly,” Mydei coached. His hands hovered under the bar and brushed Phainon’s wrists every rep. “Chest up. Good. Three more.”

By the third rep Phainon’s arms were already burning. Mydei’s thighs were right next to his head. If he turned his face just a little.. just a liiiii—

No. Bad Phainon.

After the bench, they did squats. Mydei stood behind him again, hands on his hips to guide the movement. Every time Phainon went down, Mydei’s front pressed against his ass for a split second. Support, right? Totally professional.

Phainon’s face was on fire. His cock was fully interested now and there was no hiding it if he looked down. He kept his eyes forward and tried to think about Cyrene’s disappointed face. That helped. A little. He almost gagged.

“You’re tight here,” Mydei said, squeezing Phainon’s hip. “Loosen up, let me.” He left his hands on Phainon without forgetting to brush his ass.

He demonstrated the squat himself and Phainon could just stare like an idiot; he still tried to digest what Mydei just said: “You're tight here.” “Let me loosen you up.” (his brain was distorted, leave him alone). Phainon stayed still. Mydei was right: he was tight, in many ways. He was going to change that, right?

He was looking at what Mydei was demonstrating but everything passed his mind except the way those thighs moved, the way his ass flexed in those shorts. Phainon wanted to bite it. Just once, once, as a self-reward for going to the place he hated.

Enough.

Then it returned, one hand on his lower back, one on his stomach. “Feel that? Core engaged.” His fingers pressed in, rubbing small circles. Phainon’s breath hitched. Was he too horny or that was definitely not necessary?

They kept going. Deadlifts—Mydei’s hands roaming around. Shoulder press—Mydei standing so close their chests brushed when Phainon pushed up. Every touch felt deliberate now. Mydei’s fingers would linger, trace lightly, squeeze just enough to make Phainon’s brain melt.

Phainon was dying. Sweat poured down his back, his shorts felt too tight (definitely not just from the workout). Every time he moved he was aware of his own body in a way he had never been before. And Mydei kept watching him with those piercing golden eyes, like he knew exactly what he was doing.

Halfway through, Phainon was wiped. His legs felt like jelly. “Water,” he mumbled, stumbling toward the bench where he’d left his bottle. Mydei said something but Phainon’s ears were ringing from both exhaustion and horniness.

He reached for the bottle, missed, and his foot caught on the edge of the mat. He tripped forward—right toward Mydei, who had sat down on the floor to adjust something. Phainon’s balance was gone. He tried to catch himself but only managed to twist weirdly.

His ass landed directly on Mydei’s face.

Full weight. Right on it.

For one horrifying second, everything froze. Phainon felt the heat of Mydei’s breath through his shorts, the firm press of nose and mouth against his ass. Mydei’s hands flew up instinctively, grabbing Phainon’s thighs to steady him.

Phainon shrieked and scrambled off, falling sideways onto the mat. “I’M SO SORRY– oh my god—! I didn’t mean– fuck—”

Mydei sat there, hair even messier now, face slightly red. But he was laughing. His laugh sounded scarily low, eyes gleaming. “Accidents happen.”

Phainon wanted the floor to swallow him whole. His cock was rock hard from the whole warm-up and that… that face-sitting incident. He crossed his legs fast and grabbed his bottle like it was a shield. Could Mydei feel that?!

Mydei stood up, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “You okay?”

Phainon stayed frozen for another second even after scrambling off, ass still tingling from the heat of Mydei’s mouth through the thin shorts; he could still feel the shape of Mydei’s nose pressed right against his crack, the warm exhale that had ghosted over his clothed hole for that split second. His face felt hotter than the gym itself. Mydei’s hands had grabbed his thighs hard on instinct, fingers digging in, Phainon remembered every single point of contact.

Mydei was still sitting on the floor, looking up at him with that low laugh dying down. A faint wet spot from Phainon’s sweat shone on his cheek. He wiped it slowly with the back of his hand, tongue darting out to lick his lower lip like he was tasting something. 

Phainon’s cock gave a painful throb at the sight.

“Sorry– fuck, I’m so sorry,” Phainon babbled again, voice cracking. He wanted to die. He also wanted to sit back down and grind—

Phainon crossed his legs tighter, trying to hide how obviously hard he was. His shorts were doing a terrible job. He could feel himself leaking. This was the worst day of his life. Phainon’s body was screaming from the workout, yet his cock was traitorously hard.

Mydei just tilted his head, eyes dark. “It’s fine. You’re light.” The way he said it made it sound like anything but fine. Like he didn’t mind at all.

The session dragged on like that: touches lasted too long, looks that felt like they had meanings to Phainon. Mydei would stand right behind him during rows, hips lined up, one hand on Phainon’s lower back while the other adjusted his elbow. Every pull back made Phainon’s shoulder blades brush against Mydei’s firm chest. The fabric between them felt too thin. Phainon could feel the heat coming off Mydei’s body, the slight dampness of sweat soaking through.

“Keep your back flat,” Mydei said, voice right by his ear. His fingers spread wider on Phainon’s back, thumb pressing into the dip of his spine. Phainon’s arms trembled. He pulled again and Mydei leaned in with him, their bodies moving together like they were practicing something way dirtier than gym stuff.

Phainon’s mind kept supplying pictures: Mydei’s hands sliding lower, gripping his hips harder, that deep voice telling him to push back instead of pull— he shook his head to clear his thoughts, nearly dropping the handle.

Mydei caught it for him, stepping even closer so his front pressed fully against Phainon’s back for a beat. “Easy. I got you.”

Phainon’s cock throbbed. He was leaking a little into his underwear now. This was one hella torture.

They switched to push-ups. Mydei knelt beside him, one hand between Phainon’s shoulder blades, the other resting on his lower back again. Every time Phainon lowered himself, Mydei’s palm slid down a tiny bit, almost cupping the top of his ass. “Chest to the floor if you can. Good boy.”

The words slipped out casual, but Phainon’s brain blue-screened. Did he just say good boy? He fell face first.

“Do you need a break?” Mydei asked, seemingly concerned—no, wait—he looked so smug? 

“Oh no no, I'm fine. It's just a bit hard.” My cock.

Mydei shrugged his shoulders as he continued to guide him. 

By the end of the session Phainon was a sweaty mess, legs wobbling, cock so hard it hurt. Mydei handed him the towel again. Mydei’s thumb stroked once over Phainon’s knuckles before letting go.

“Same time tomorrow?” Mydei asked, mouth upturned. 

Phainon could only nod. He forgot his basic manner along with his dignity as he bolted without saying anything.

As soon as he got home, he ran straight to his room. Door locked. Phone on silent. He didn’t even bother with the lights. He shoved his shorts and underwear down in one go, kicked them off, flopped onto his bed. His hand already wrapped tight around his aching cock.

The memories came rushing back immediately. Mydei’s breath on his neck during the stretches. Those big hands sliding up his thighs. The way his thumb had brushed his nipple. And fuck— sitting on Mydei’s face. The firm press of nose and mouth right against his ass, the heat, the way Mydei’s fingers had gripped his thighs like he wanted to pull him down harder. He imagined Mydei eating him out with the same hunger he had for him.

He stroked faster, messier, thumb rubbing over the head where he was the most sensitive. He bit his pillow to stop the whimpers. His legs shook as he replayed: Mydei saying “Good boy” in that low voice, the way their bodies had pressed together during the rows, Mydei’s half-hard cock against his back.

It didn’t take long. Maybe only a minute. He came hard, cum spilling over his fist and onto his stomach in messy stripes. He kept stroking through it, hips twitching, until it was too sensitive.

For a minute he just lay there panting, feeling gross and relieved at the same time. Then he cleaned up with some tissues, changed into comfy clothes, and collapsed again. His body was sore in new places, but his brain wouldn’t shut up about tomorrow’s session.

He still felt the ghost of Mydei’s hands when he closed his eyes that night. Phainon wondered if all personal trainers touched their clients like that or if he was just lucky. Or cursed. Probably both. 

The next session was even worse. Or better. Phainon couldn’t decide.

Mydei greeted him with a nod and immediately put a hand on his shoulder to lead him to the mats. “Warm-up. You remember the routine?”

Phainon did. Sort of. If he meant the way Mydei kept touching him intimately then yes, he remembered vividly. 

Mydei started the stretches again, but this time he didn’t just demonstrate. He guided Phainon through every single one, body close the whole time.

During the forward fold Mydei stood behind him, hands on his hips, pulling him gently deeper. Phainon felt Mydei’s crotch brush the back of his thighs. He bit his lip and tried to breathe normally.

“Deeper,” Mydei said softly. “You can take it.”

The words sank straight into Phainon’s gut. His cock betrayed him again, already half-hard from the whole warm-up. He was too easy as a person. Who could blame him when your personal trainer was this tempting?

He was going to combust. The low tone made it sound filthy. Phainon’s mind supplied a dozen other contexts for those exact words and he had to squeeze his eyes shut tight.

Leg raises next. Mydei held his ankles, thumbs rubbing circles on the bone while Phainon lifted. Every time Phainon’s legs came up, Mydei’s eyes flicked down between them before meeting his gaze again. Phainon kept his own eyes on the ceiling, counting tiles, counting anything except how Mydei’s grip felt like it wanted to slide higher.

Planks were the killer. Mydei got on the floor too, mirroring him, face inches away. “Hold.” Their noses almost touched. Phainon could smell the mint on his breath mixed with sweat. Mydei’s long hair had a few strands falling loose from the bun, brushing Phainon’s arm. Phainon’s core shook.

When he finally dropped, Mydei caught his shoulder, helping him roll to his back. The man hovered over him for a second, one knee between Phainon’s spread legs. “You okay? Your heart is racing way too fast.”

Phainon nodded fast. His heart was racing for reasons that had nothing to do with planks.

Mydei stayed hovering over him a moment longer than necessary, knee still pressed between Phainon’s spread legs. Their faces were close enough that Phainon could count the sweat beads on Mydei’s upper lip. One of Mydei’s loose hair strands tickled Phainon’s collarbone. Neither of them moved. The gym noise faded into background static.

Then Mydei finally pulled back, but not before his hand brushed down Phainon’s side. It felt possessive. What?

They did some machine work after. Mydei adjusted the seat for him on the leg extension machine, hands on Phainon’s thighs, spreading them to the right width. Then he stayed there, crouched in front, watching every rep. Phainon pushed out, legs straightening, and Mydei’s hands stayed on his knees, squeezing lightly on every extension.

“Nice control,” Mydei murmured, eyes tracking up Phainon’s legs to his crotch and back down. Phainon’s shorts were tenting again. No way to hide it. Mydei definitely noticed. He was fucking giving him a small knowing smile.

Phainon finished the set and stood up too fast, dizzy. Mydei grabbed his waist to steady him, bodies flush for a moment. Phainon felt it—Mydei was half-hard too, pressed against his hip. 

“Careful,” Mydei said, not moving away immediately. His voice had that rough edge.

The rest of the hour passed in a horny blur. Every exercise had Mydei’s hands on him. Correcting form, helping with balance, brushing sweat off Phainon’s arm. A wet spot formed in his underwear. He was pretty sure Mydei knew. That man kept licking his lips.

Session finally ended. Phainon’s legs felt like jelly. He grabbed his yellow bag and bolted for the locker room, face burning the whole way.

The place was nearly empty, just the hum of a fan and distant showers running somewhere. He yanked open his locker, peeled off his soaked sleeveless shirt, and stood there in his shorts, trying to get his breathing under control. His cock was still stubbornly hard, tenting the fabric like it had a personal grudge.

Footsteps. Mydei walked in, towel slung over one shoulder, looking way too calm for someone who just spent an hour torturing him with every touch.

Phainon panicked. “Sorry about earlier—during the warm-up and all the… stuff. I know I kept messing up form and probably made it weird. I’m not usually like this, I swear, I-I swear on my life. Also, about yesterday! The tripping thing was an accident, I didn’t mean to sit on your face like some kind of desperate– fuck, I’m rambling. Just ignore me. I’ll change quickly and get out of your way.”

He turned back to his locker, ears red, internally screaming at himself to shut up. Mydei stepped closer instead of leaving.

“Phainon,” Mydei said calmly, his tone annoyingly sounded like he was enjoying his mortified ramble. “It wasn’t an accident on my part." He looked at him dead in the eyes and continued: "I have watched how you reacted on the first day. I love the way your breath hitched, how you kept glancing at me. I tested the waters slowly after that, pushing a little more each time to see if you’d stop me.”

Phainon went rigid. He slowly turned around. “What?”

Mydei leaned one shoulder against the locker next to his, watching him with those beautiful golden eyes. “All the corrections. The hands on your hips, your thighs, your back. I knew what I was doing every single time. You’re cute when you’re trying hard not to react.”

Phainon stared, mouth opening and closing. You absolute bastard, he cursed inside his head. All this time I thought I was the perverted one having a crisis and you were doing it on purpose? I sat on your face and you just—

“You… you were teasing me?” Phainon managed. His cock throbbed harder at the confession, always the traitor it was.

“Yeah. I wanted to see if you’d say something, or do something. You held out longer than I expected.” 

“You’ve been doing this since yesterday?” Mydei was admitting it outright. He wanted to punch the guy. He also wanted to climb him like a tree. “Curse yo–”

Then softer, “If you don’t want this, tell me now and we forget it. But if you do… let me? Please?”

Phainon's heart hammered. Then quickly, without thinking: “I want it,” Phainon said, stepping closer before he could overthink again. “I really want it. Please.”

He sounded so desperate but genuinely who gave a fuck? They had been hard longer than they knew each other.

Mydei’s smile widened just a fraction. He closed the gap and quickly took Phainon's lips with his, one hand cupping the back of his neck. Phainon kissed back hungry, hands grabbing that tight black top, tasting sweat and the faint mint from Mydei’s breath. 

As Mydei felt Phainon trying to dominate, he lightly tugged his hair and deepened the kiss, taking the control back. It was messy, all tongue and teeth. He broke it apart, Phainon was already breathing hard.

“Let me guide you. It will feel better without all the teeth.” 

The heat settled in his face. He was terrible. What if Mydei changed his mind? He thought today was the day his virginity was pronounced dead. “Sorry– shit, I’ve never–” He didn’t finish the sentence. Mydei just hummed and kissed him again, slower this time, his lips were soft, the kiss was firm—tongue sliding in easy and patient.

Phainon tried to match it, hands fisting tighter in the black top, but his glasses kept knocking against Mydei’s cheek. He made a frustrated noise and tried to push them up without breaking the kiss. It failed. Mydei chuckled against his mouth, the vibration going straight down Phainon’s spine.

Mydei walked him backward until Phainon’s back hit the locker with a quiet thud. One big hand slid down Phainon’s bare side, thumb brushing over his ribs, then lower to hook into the waistband of his shorts. Phainon’s breath hitched.

“Tell me if I'm going too fast, okay?” 

Phainon nodded dumbly. Not fast enough. Faster, please.

His own hands moved on autopilot, shoving at Mydei’s top until the man pulled it off in one smooth motion. Phainon stared absently for a second before leaning in and pressing open-mouthed kisses across Mydei’s chest, clumsy and eager, tongue darting out to taste the salt. If he was going to get his brain fucked out then what was there to be embarrassed about?

Mydei let him explore for a bit, one hand in Phainon’s hair, the other palming his ass through the shorts. Then he tugged Phainon’s shorts and underwear down together. Phainon’s cock sprang free, bobbing against his stomach; he was painfully hard and leaking. He kicked the clothes off his ankles, feeling ridiculously exposed in the middle of the locker room.

“Sit on the bench,” Mydei commanded. Phainon obeyed, legs spread without thinking. Mydei dropped to his knees between them, looking up once like he was checking. Phainon could only nod.

The first lick along his cock made Phainon’s hips jerk. Mydei took his time with him. He dragged his tongue from base to tip, swirling around the head, sucking lightly at the slit. Phainon’s hand flew to Mydei’s messy bun, not pulling, just holding on for dear life. When Mydei sank down further, taking him deep in one smooth motion, Phainon’s head fell back.

“Oh fuck– your mouth–” He bit his lip hard, trying not to make too much noise. They were still in public space, mind you. Mydei bobbed his head, one hand rolling Phainon’s balls gently. Phainon’s thighs shook. He was going to cum embarrassingly fast if this kept up.

Phainon tugged weakly at Mydei’s hair. “Wait– stop! I’ll cum if you keep going.”

Mydei stood up, eyes darkened with sudden intensity, and leaned back against the lockers, legs slightly spread. He pushed his shorts down just enough. His cock slapped up against his abs with a heavy sound.

Phainon’s mouth went dry.

It was thick. Stupidly thick. The shaft was long and straight with a slight upward curve near the end, veins standing out along the sides like they were carved there. The head was fat and flushed a deep reddish-purple, already glistening with precum at the slit. It looked heavy, that cock had probably ruined someone in the best way. A little thicker in the middle, tapering just slightly toward the base where dark hair was neatly trimmed. It twitched once under Phainon’s stare, another bead of precum rolling down the underside.

Way too big. Phainon’s hole clenched just looking at it.

“Show me what you learned from watching me, then,” Mydei said.

It felt like another form correction. Phainon slid off the bench onto his knees on the cool tiles, heart thumping like he was about to attempt his first deadlift. He wrapped one hand around the base—fingers barely meeting—and leaned in.

He copied the slow lick Mydei had used on him, dragging his tongue up the underside. Mydei’s thigh muscle jumped under his other hand. That was a good sign, right? He did it again, then tried swirling around the head like he remembered. The taste was salty, musky, weirdly addictive. Phainon opened wider and took the head into his mouth, sucking experimentally.

Mydei’s hand settled lightly on the back of his head. “Easy with the teeth. Relax your jaw more… yeah, like that.”

He bobbed his head, taking a little more each time, cheeks hollowing when he remembered to. Spit already dribbled down his chin and onto the floor. He made a messy, wet sound every time he went down. His free hand rested on Mydei’s thigh, feeling the muscle tense every time he sucked harder.

Mydei’s breathing grew shallow. “Good boy. Keep going. Use your tongue on the way up.”

Phainon did, swirling it messily on the upstroke, then sinking back down until the head bumped the back of his throat and he gagged a little. His pubic hair tickled his chin. He pulled back coughing, strings of spit connecting his lips to Mydei’s cock, but he went right back in, determined to show him he was good—like he said.

This felt like the squats—awkward at first, but he was slowly getting the rhythm. Mydei’s hips twitched forward once before he caught himself, letting Phainon control it.

Phainon kept at it, a bit sloppy and impatient, one hand stroking the part he couldn’t fit while his mouth worked the head. His own cock throbbed untouched between his legs, leaking onto the tiles. Mydei’s fingers tightened in his hair, not pushing, just guiding the pace like he was spotting him during bench press.

“Fuck, Phainon,” Mydei muttered, voice lower than usual. “You’re a fast learner.”

Phainon moaned around the cock in his mouth at the praise, the vibration pulling a quiet groan from Mydei. He kept going until his jaw started to ache.

Mydei finally tugged him off gently. “Enough. I want to fuck you now. Turn around for me.”

"Please." Phainon whimpered. He scrambled off the bench, nearly tripping over his own feet as he bent forward, elbows planted on the worn wood. His ass stuck out, completely exposed under the locker room lights. Mydei’s hands landed on his cheeks, spreading him without hesitation. The first touch of Mydei’s tongue made Phainon slap a hand over his own mouth.

He felt every slow pass, every press, every time Mydei’s tongue pushed inside him. Phainon’s legs shook so bad he had to widen his stance. Spit started running down the back of his thighs. He couldn’t stop himself from rocking back, chasing the intense feeling he had never felt before. 

Mydei hummed against him, the vibration shooting straight up Phainon’s spine. One thick finger replaced the tongue, sliding in easy from all the spit. Then another. They moved, curled, searched—until they rubbed against something that made Phainon’s entire body jolt and a broken whimper slip out between his fingers.

“Right there–! fuck, right there–”

Mydei kept hitting that spot, while his mouth stayed busy on the rim. Phainon’s cock throbbed painfully hard between his legs. He pushed back harder, fucking himself on Mydei’s fingers like he had zero shame left.

Mydei pulled back just enough to stand up. Phainon heard the rustle of fabric, then felt the blunt, heavy heat of Mydei’s cock resting against his ass. He glanced back. It looked even bigger from this angle. Phainon swallowed hard.

Mydei rubbed the head up and down his slick hole a couple times, then started pressing in. Slow. Too slow. Phainon’s mouth fell open as Mydei’s cock entered him. The stretch burned and stretched him wider than the fingers ever could. He gripped the edge of the bench until his knuckles went white, breathing through it in short, shaky puffs.

When Mydei finally bottomed out, hips pressed tight to Phainon’s ass, they both stayed still for a second. Phainon felt impossibly full, he swore he could feel Mydei in his stomach.

“Still alright?”

“Move,” he gasped. “Please. Just move.” He hissed at the stretch but pushed back anyway, chasing the overwhelming fullness.

Mydei pulled back and slid in again. He thrust deep as he rolled his hips to hit his prostate. The bench creaked under Phainon’s weight with every thrust. His own cock swung heavy and untouched, dripping uselessly. Mydei’s grip on his hips tightened, pulling him back to meet each push. Skin met skin with quiet, filthy sounds that echoed a little too loudly in the empty locker row.

Phainon was losing it. Drool slipped past his lips onto the bench. He kept pushing back, meeting every thrust, chasing that spark inside him that made his toes curl and eyes rolled back.

Mydei leaned over his back; his chest was hot and damp against Phainon's skin, he reached around to wrap a hand around Phainon's cock. He stroked in time with his hips, thumb swiping over the head on every upstroke.

“Feels good?” Mydei murmured right against his ear. His breath felt hot.

“Too good– fuck– I’m gonna–”

Phainon’s hands were gripping the edge of the bench so hard to support himself. Mydei noticed. He grabbed both of Phainon’s wrists in one big hand and pulled them back behind his body, pinning them at the small of his back. Phainon’s chest pressed harder into the bench, ass tilted higher, completely helpless now. He couldn’t brace himself, couldn’t hold onto anything. Every thrust shoved him forward against the wood while Mydei kept his arms locked in place.

Phainon’s mouth dropped open in a silent cry. The new angle made everything sharper. Mydei drove in deeper, hips snapping harder, using the grip on Phainon’s wrists like handles. The bench scraped against the floor with every push. Phainon’s cock leaked steadily onto the tiles below, untouched, except for the occasional brush of Mydei’s fingers.

He tried to hold back the noises but failed miserably. He was never loud, it even surprised him that he could make sounds; little whimpers and gasps kept slipping out no matter how hard he bit his lip. The locker room was supposed to be empty, but the wet slap of skin and the creak of the bench felt way too loud. Anyone could walk in any second. The thought only made him clench harder around Mydei.

Mydei kept his wrists pinned tight, fucking him steady and relentless. “That’s it. Take it. Good boy.”

Drool leaked from the corner of his mouth onto the bench. His arms strained uselessly in Mydei’s hold, but that only made the heat in his gut burn hotter. He was so close, legs shaking, hole fluttering around Mydei’s cock.

Mydei pulled out suddenly. Phainon let out a pathetic whine at the sudden emptiness, hole clenching greedily around nothing. Before he could complain, Mydei spun him around, grabbed the back of his thighs, and lifted him clean off the bench. Phainon’s back hit the lockers with a dull thud. He wrapped his legs around Mydei’s waist on pure instinct.

Mydei adjusted his grip, hooking Phainon’s legs higher, one over each elbow. He folded him up until Phainon’s knees were nearly touching his own shoulders, ass tilted up and completely open. The position left him wide open, back pressed to the cold lockers.

Mydei lined up and thrust back in with one smooth, brutal motion.

Phainon’s loud moan echoed through the locker room. Mydei was hitting his prostate dead on, every thrust growing harder and deeper. The lockers rattled violently behind him.

Mydei didn’t stop there. With a low breath he shifted his hold, wrapping one thick arm under both of Phainon’s thighs and locking them in place against his chest like it was nothing. Phainon’s eyes widened. The man was holding his entire lower body up with just one arm, muscles in his shoulder and bicep standing out sharp under the locker lights. Phainon felt small. Like he weighed nothing at all. 

Mydei’s free hand shot up and caught Phainon’s wrist right as he tried to cover his mouth. He pinned the arm above Phainon’s head against the locker door, fingers wrapped firm around the thinner wrist.

“No hiding,” Mydei hissed, “I want to hear your moan.”

He thrust in again. Phainon’s loud moan tore out of him before he could stop it, echoing off the tiles. His body bounced in Mydei’s hold, completely at the mercy of that single powerful arm keeping him folded and spread.

Phainon’s other hand flailed uselessly for a second before Mydei caught that one too, pinning both wrists together above his head in one easy grip. Phainon was fully trapped—legs held up by one arm, arms pinned by the other. Mydei didn’t even look like he was straining. His breathing stayed stable, sweat rolling down the lines of his abs.

Phainon’s head thunked back against the locker. Another loud, broken moan ripped out of him. He couldn’t stop them. Couldn’t muffle a single one. Every thrust punched the sound right out of his throat.

“Fuck– Mydei– too loud– someone’s gonna–!” 

Mydei just fucked him harder, hips rolling deep and precise, using his arms as the leverage to grind right against that spot on every stroke. Phainon’s cock was trapped between their stomachs, the friction made him see white. He could barely see Mydei’s face but he felt everything—the stretch, the heat, the impossible strength holding him open like a toy.

Mydei leaned in closer, mouth brushing Phainon’s ear. “Come.”

Phainon came without any warning. His whole body locked up, a loud, shameless cry spilling out as his cock pulsed between them, shooting thick stripes across both their stomachs. His hole clenched tight around Mydei, legs trying to kick uselessly in the air but held firm by that one unyielding arm. The orgasm dragged on, wave after wave, while Mydei kept thrusting through it, drawing out every shaky whimper and moan Phainon couldn’t hold back.

Only when Phainon started twitching from overstimulation did Mydei bury himself deep, grinding slow and hard as he came with a quiet groan. "P-Phainonh.... hh... fuck."

Phainon felt every thick spurt, felt himself get filled until it was leaking out around Mydei’s cock and dripping down onto the locker room floor in messy, audible drops. 

They stayed like that for a long moment. Mydei still held him folded in half with one arm, the other keeping Phainon’s wrists pinned above his head. Phainon’s chest heaved, legs trembling, hole still fluttering around the cock buried inside him. His glasses were destroyed—one lens had a clear thumbprint smear right across the middle, the other side fogged beyond saving. Cum and sweat streaked his stomach and chest. 

Mydei finally let go of his wrists and slowly lowered Phainon’s legs. He kept him pressed against the lockers for another minute, kissing him slow and lazy, swallowing the little aftershocks of whimpers still escaping Phainon’s mouth. More cum leaked out the second Mydei shifted, running down Phainon’s ass.

Mydei seated Phainon on the bench softly, he reached into his locker for a clean towel, and started cleaning him up with careful hands. First the mess on his stomach and chest, then between his legs where everything was wet and sensitive. Phainon’s whole body was still shaking, completely unable to process.

“You good?” Mydei asked quietly, voice a lot softer now.

Phainon nodded, a dopey grin spreading across his flushed face. “I think you broke me. In a really good way. Virgin no more, I guess.”

Mydei’s eyes widened, then a small real smile appeared. “Should’ve told me, I would’ve gone slower. You took me so good, I thought you’d done this before.”

“Don’t you dare go slower,” Phainon mumbled. “That was perfect. I will definitely love working out if i got this as the cool-down.”

Mydei helped him step back into his clothes, stealing one last slow kiss before they finally left the locker room. “Then next session. And the one after that?”

“Yes. Please.” Phainon answered too fast. He cleared his throat to hide the embarrassment.

Mydei chuckled and ruffled his hair. “The gym is almost closing, we can't take a shower. I'm sorry you have to be filled with my cum for a while longer.”

Phainon punched his abs hard, an excuse to feel it one last time. “Shut up.” He tried to take a step toward the exit and immediately winced, a sharp ache shooting up his spine. His underwear stuck uncomfortably. There was no way he could walk home like this.

Mydei noticed right away. He wrapped an arm around Phainon’s waist, steadying him without a word, and guided him toward the back exit of the gym. “Come on. I’m driving you home.”

Phainon blinked up at him. “You don’t have to—”

“I want to,” Mydei said simply. He scooped Phainon easily in a bridal style to the parking lot, Phainon protested but made no effort to fight. When they reached a sleek black car, Mydei opened the passenger door for him without letting his grip loosened, then helped him ease into the seat. Phainon hissed as his ass made contact with the cushion.

Mydei leaned over to buckle his seatbelt for him, then paused, thumb gently brushing the edge of Phainon’s ruined glasses. “These have to stay on, you know.”

“They’re disgusting right now…”

“Exactly.” Mydei’s mouth twisted with taunt. “You look stupidly adorable like this. All wrecked and trying to act normal with cum on your glasses. I can’t let you clean them yet.”

Phainon groaned and hid his face in his hands, but he was smiling behind them. Mydei closed the door, got in the driver’s seat, and started the car. 

Phainon reluctantly gave Mydei his address.

The drive was quiet at first, just the low hum of the engine. Mydei kept one hand on the wheel and the other resting on Phainon’s thigh, thumb rubbing slow circles over the fabric.

“You really okay?” Mydei asked after a few minutes, glancing over. “I wasn’t too rough?”

Phainon shifted in the seat, feeling another warm trickle. He was sore as hell but he didn't think he would ever regret this. “I’m… great. Just full. And sticky. And probably walking funny tomorrow.”

Mydei let out a soft laugh. “Good. Means you’ll remember me every time you sit down.” So Mydei was even more of a shameful man than he was?

He spent the rest of the ride stealing glances at Mydei’s profile—the sharp nose, the messy bun, the way his tattoo peeked out from under his sleeve. This guy had just folded him in half in a public locker room and was now driving him home like it was nothing.

When they pulled up in front of Phainon’s house, Mydei parked and turned to him. He rubbed the back of his head softly. “I'm sorry for being too rough. Get that checked, maybe?” 

Phainon laughed. It hurt when his head kept bumping the locker but it was sure damn worth it.

“Text me when you’re free tomorrow,” Mydei said, leaning in to press one last soft kiss to Phainon’s lips. “Or if you’re too sore. I can be gentle next time. Ask your sister about my number.”

Phainon kissed him back, still a little clumsy. “You’re not a romantic huh? Should've given me your number yourself. Anyway, see you tomorrow.”

Mydei smirked, Phainon was sulking just like he intended. That pouty mouth was just too cute.

He got out of the car carefully, legs still shaky, and limped toward the front door. Mydei waited until he was inside before driving off.

The second the door closed behind him, Cyrene looked up from the couch and raised a single eyebrow at his obvious limp and wrecked appearance.

“Good workout?”

A simple flush colored Phainon’s face to his ears. “The best,” he mumbled, avoiding eye contact as he escaped straight to his room.

No. It wasn't gay if the glasses stayed on, right?