Spot Me: Straight to Gay First Time

He's my roommate. My training partner. And I can't stop staring at him between sets.

When I move into Theo's apartment for the summer, I'm just looking for cheap rent and a gym buddy. He's been trying to get me to lift with him for years, and with the campus dead and my lease expired, I've got no excuses left.

Theo is six-one of kinesiology major who worships the weight room like church. Patient when he's coaching me, hands-on when he's correcting my form, and completely casual about walking around our shared apartment in nothing but boxers. He spots me on bench with his hips at my eye level. He corrects my squats with his chest against my back. He stretches me out on the gym mats with his face a foot from mine.

It's just training. That's what I keep telling myself. Even when his hands stay longer than they need to. Even when we lock eyes in the gym mirror and neither of us looks away. Even when he works the knots out of my back on the couch and I lean into him instead of pulling away.

The campus is empty. The gym is ours. And the excuse that this is just two guys getting in shape is wearing thinner every single day.