Working Out Issues Ch. 02

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“It’s so hard,” I sighed.

Adam nodded earnestly. It was early Friday evening, and we were hanging out on the balcony of our shared apartment waiting for the sun to go down. I was drinking beer, and Adam was taking shots of vodka to pre-game before he hit the club. He was wearing a collared shirt with the top three buttons undone, just enough to give you a glimpse of his ripped chest muscles. God, I wish I had a body like that. But two weeks into my new diet plan, my chest was as flabby as ever.

“I just feel like it’s not worth it, you know?” I said, “Like, I appreciate the work you put in on the meals but I’m just wasting your effort. I’m just such a fat piece of crap.” I laughed.

“Bruh, you’re insane,” Adam grinned, his slanted tipsy smile showing off perfect teeth, “You’ve actually hella lost weight, dude. You need to get your head right. You need an endorphin rush. Hit the club with me tonight! Dance it out!”

“No way,” I said, “Nobody wants to see a sweaty, gross fat dude on the dance floor. I’d totally cock block you.”

Adam’s smile faded a bit, “Yeah don’t wanna miss out on getting laid tonight,” he muttered. I knew he would see sense. It didn’t really feel like a victory though. Man, it would be good to actually hit the club, to be the hot guy that all the girls flocked to. But it wasn’t ever gonna happen for me.

The sun was setting now, and Adam was looking quietly about across the city skyline. I finished my beer and got up to go inside. I caught my reflection in the sliding door. The setting sun was shining behind me, so I just looked like a dark, Grimace-shaped blob. Gross. Although… the way the sunlight filtered through my hair actually looked pretty cool. I had been putting more effort into conditioning and brushing it since Adam brought it up, and with the sun shining through it, it gleamed like waves of molten gold.

I turned back, “You know, it actually would be good to get some exercise.”

Adam jolted upright, “Wait, legit?”

“Yeah, get the endorphins rushing, like you said. And, you know, improve my cardio, and… maybe shed some pounds…”

“Yes!” Adam downed another shot and punched the air, “Yes, dude! I didn’t wanna rush you but this is gonna be sick! Imma make a weight regimen for you, we can be gym bros!”

“Oh jeez,” I said. Immediately all the enthusiasm left, “Forget it. Nope. Never mind.”


“I’ve tried the gym before, Adam,” The memories started flooding back. All the fit people staring at the fat slob huffing and puffing trying to lift a bare bar while they were deadlifting their own body weight. Whispering and laughing to each other behind my back. A wave of shame washed over me, “Ugh. God. Sorry I know this is so childish but I can’t deal with other people seeing me. I know it’s dumb but-“

“It’s not dumb, dude.”

“What? Really?”

“Yeah. If the gym don’t work for you, it don’t work. I’m not gonna make, like, a guy with no arms do bicep curls,” he smiled sloppily, “You gotta do YOU.”

Shame was replaced by relief, “Yeah? Well. in that case. I don’t wanna lift weights.”

“No weights!?” Adam seemed scandalised, but quickly covered up with a way-to-solemn şişli travesti nod, “You gotta do you, I RESPECT it!”

I laughed, “Well, good! I hate weights! They always destroy my arms and then…” I bit my tongue.


“Okay this actually is dumb, ” I said ruefully.


“Okay, okay! If I lift weights, my hands get sore and I can’t play video games.”

Adam downed another shot, “EASY, bro. No weights. No gym. We can stay home and do… cardio. Calisthenics. AEROBICS, dude! This is still gonna be sick.” He handed me another shot to cheers with, “You gotta do YOU! No shame!”

“Oh god,” I groaned, but I accepted the shot, “Cardio means jogging, right?”

Adam nodded, holding up his shot, “Jogging, uhh, jumping, skipping…”

“I can’t do it,” I groaned.

“Why not?”

“Dude it’s so…”


“Ugh, fine!” I downed the shot and blurted it out, “When I try and jog, it always hurts my chest! My friggen man boobs are all slapping around and my nipples get chafed!” Don’t laugh at me!”

I glared at Adam. I couldn’t believe he made me say that. I felt a thousand times more humiliated than I ever had just going to the gym. Adam was staring at me, mouth agape.

“Dude,” he said slowly, “… that sucks.”

I stared at him cautiously. Incredibly, it didn’t seem like he was about to laugh.

“…Yeah, it does suck,” I said.

“I’ve never had that problem,” Adam said thoughtfully. No shit! “Maybe if there was a way to like, cover up your nips, and then kinda hold your chest in place… we could wrap a bunch of sports tape around your chest or- DUDE, I know!”


“Sports bra!” Adam held out his arms like he had just done a magic trick.

“WHAT?” I said.

“I know, I know,” Adam waved his hands, “It sounds dumb, but literally, it’s the exact problem girls have, and they wear sports bras! And you don’t gotta worry about anyone giving you crap about it, cause you’ll just be up here! The only people who need to know are you and me, and I’m not gonna say anything-“

“Yeah, right!” I said. How stupid did he think I was? Although… he really did seem so earnest. And would he have spent two full weeks measuring out soybeans to craft meals for me, if this was all just a lead up to a prank? Adam waited expectantly. I could see his bulging muscles through his tight shirt, and my pulse quickened. God, I wanted to look like that. And if all it meant was wearing a stupid sports bra first…

“I need collateral,” I said, “I’ll try the sports bra, but I need to know something equally as embarrassing about you.”

Adam’s smile faltered.

“Okay, uh. I think i can do that… okay, I have a couple extra boxes of merch that my gym asked me to hold on to in my room. So i’ll just check that I have something you can wear, and then maybe I can tell you my… yeah. One second.”

Adam scurried off to his room. Weird. I’d never seen him nervous before. Was he actually embarrassed about something? I waited on the balcony, downing another shots to steady my nerves. Honestly, the sports bra thing wasn’t that dumb. It was just logical, bakırköy travesti right? Like taping up a twisted ankle. I looked at my reflection again, pressing my hands against my chest to flatten it out. Yeah, that’d be good. I let go of my chest and played with my hair absentmindedly as I waited for Adam to return. He did, with a sports bra and a DVD.

“Okay,” he said, still seeming oddly nervous, “So. Here’s the sports bra, if you wanna wear it, which, you know, you don’t have to. And I found this, this new DVD we have, that’s, like, home aerobics classes. It’s super popular, but we overstocked a bit, so-“

“Thanks,” I snatched the sports bra and held it up against my chest. It actually looked… fine. It was just plain black, with the logo of Adam’s gym one one side. It really was just a support thing, wasn’t it? The DVD was Michelle Champion’s At Home Aerobics, I’d seen it advertised on TV. Michelle Champion herself smiled up at me from the cover. She was super fit, perky, and hot… the exact kind of girl I would be scoring with once I got in shape. I was actually getting excited!

“I’m in,” I said, “Now spill your secrets.”

Adam’s jaw dropped, “Shit. I mean, that’s sick, good on you for, uh… yeah. I mean. Maybe we could do something else?”

“Well now I wanna do it just because you don’t want to,” I grinned. The shots had me feeling feisty. I pulled my T-shirt up over my head, and wrestled the black sports bra over my chest, “There! Now you gotta tell me!”

Adam groaned, grabbed the vodka bottle and took a slug, “Ugh. I haven’t had sex in two years.”

“Ha ha,” I said, “Now the real one.”

Adam looked away, “I haven’t had sex in two years.”


Adam closed his eyes and leaned back against the railing, “There was this other PT at the gym I was super into, but she never really responded to me, ya know? I think she thought I was dumb, or something. And I kept trying to start a conversation with her, and she would brush me off. Then two years ago we had, like, this staff bodybuilding competition, for our Christmas party, yeah? And I won the guys comp, and she actually came and congratulated me after. And for the first time, she actually wanted to talk, and she laughed at my jokes and stuff, and we ended up going home together. And we got to my bedroom, and I said…”

He sighed and tried to take another slug of vodka, but I intercepted the bottle.

“Hey man, you don’t have to talk about this.”

He groaned again and covered his face, “No, dude, that was it. I started trying to tell her how, like, lucky I felt that we were actually connecting that night and she said, “God, stop talking so I can fuck you already,” And I realised that she didn’t care abut anything I had said to her that night, or ever, and she only wanted to have sex with me cause she had, I dunno, seen me oiled up. And I couldn’t get it up that night. And… I haven’t been able to have sex since then.”

I didn’t know what to say. But I was still holding the vodka bottle, so I took a swig, and handed it back to him. He took another swig too.

“Fuck,” I said.

“Sorry, man. That was kinda istanbul travestileri heavy.”

“Yeah,” I said, ” I thought I told you I didn’t wanna do weights.”

He laughed really hard at that. I shook my head and patted him on the shoulder.

“Adam, you’re so much more than just a ridiculously hot body,” I said, “The amount of effort you’ve put into helping me out, and, I dunno, all the reassurance and stuff, and your positive energy, and, hey, your freaking inventiveness?” I gestured at myself, “Two weeks ago I was sitting on the couch playing video games all night, and now I’m about to go do aerobics wearing a sports bra. She doesn’t realise how much she’s missing out on.”

“Dude,” Adam smiled, “That means so much more than I can even explain. Thank you. And… you actually look great right now.”

“Oh yeah?” I said. For the first time I actually took stock of how I was dressed. I had tugged the sports bra on in a hurry to hear Adam’s not-so-funny secret, but now that I paid attention… It felt pretty good. My chest felt, like, supported. Firm. I checked out my reflection and saw that, okay, my man boobs were still bulging out way more than any man should, but in my sports bra at least they didn’t look saggy, or droopy. They actually looked like they were a normal part of a human body. Unlike my gross, saggy gut. But I tried not to focus on that.

“Thanks, man,” I said, “I think I actually am gonna start working out tonight. I took a step towards the door and felt the whole world sway, “Whoa. Or maybe I’ll just crash on the futon for now.”

“Crap,” Adam laughed, “I actually was planning the same thing.” He held up the bottle, which had the tiniest little droplet of vodka sloshing around the bottom, “I think I pre-gamed a liiiiittle too hard.”

“That’s freaking pre-game, game and post-game,” I laughed, stumbling through the door. Adam followed me. I fell back onto the futon, and slapped my belly, “I dunno if there’s room for all three of us on here.”

“Dude, shut up,” Adam groaned, “You’re not even that fat.”

“You’re not even that muscley,” I mocked. I flailed my hand back until I hit the lever on the side of the futon, and the back folded down, reshaping the futon into a double bed, “I’m going to sleep. Loser.”

“Screw you,” Adam flopped down onto the futon beside me, “Nice tits, by the way.”

“I guess they’re the only ones you’ve seen in two years,” I smirked.

He laughed and shoved my shoulder. I shoved him back. We lay there for a few moments in a drunken haze.

“Hey, bro,” he said.

“Yeah, bro?”

“I haven’t told anyone that story before. It actually… it actually felt really good to talk about it.” I saw a tear glimmering in the corner of his eye, “I know it’s dumb, but… I really felt like no one wanted to hear me talk…”

“Hey,” I smiled, “It’s not dumb. You gotta do you.”

He smiled tearfully, “Thanks, man.”

Something about him lying there, this totally ripped, tough guy, looking so vulnerable… I felt my heart melt a little. Not that I would ever say something like that, especially not sober. But lying together, I gave into that gym bro kinship, and scooted closer, reached an arm around him, and pulled him in for a hug. After a moment, he reached his arm out too, and I felt his strong muscles pulling me tighter, his taut pecs pressing against my firmer-but-still-flabby chest in my sport bra. I heard him quietly sniffling into my shoulder, and we quickly drifted off to sleep, still embracing.

No homo, obviously.

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