The Art of Being Gay - 10. Temple of the Gods

Temple of the Gods

The three men looked around the bright lobby with light streaming from a bank of windows along the bottom edge of the ceiling. The stark white of the pristine walls was offset and accentuated by the bright blue, gold and green monochromatic photos hanging on them. It was a daunting space, even more so as they waited for someone to come to the attendance desk which guarded the doors into the gleaming space beyond. Another bank of windows showed rows of exercise equipment under guided track lighting that made each station seem special.

Chad swallowed hard and turned to Roy, his eyes wary. "Are you sure we're welcome here?"

Roy grinned back, but his own face showed some reserve. After meeting the owner last week at the store, he wasn't prepared for such a magnificent looking space. After Trent told him about his gay gym, Roy had heart palpitations about how exciting this could be. He belonged to a cheap Lifestyle Fitness place only blocks from his house. It was a pretty easy mix of all ages and all body types getting some exercise, playing some games, or attending a few Pilates or yoga classes. This was something completely different.

This was awe inspiring, or was the word ‘daunting’?

"Are you sure they're open?" Peterson mumbled. He was staring at the large mural behind them. It was an elaborate tableau of nude athletes wrestling, poised to throw long javelins, swinging large hammers, or leaping over thick hedges. These men had enhanced muscles, elongated arms and legs, and unlike their classical forebears, their genitalia were large, engorged, and obscene in its display.

"That's quite the name for a gym," Chad said, elbowing his boss and pointing at the stylized Greek letters welcoming the viewer to "Adonis' Belt, An Exercise Experience."

"It's a bit much, don't you think?" Roy was about to agree and nod toward the door when a young, tall, handsome man in blue matching stretch pants and s skin tight shirt with a silver chain and whistle came through a door that had been concealed as part of the wall. The man looked startled for a moment, then a hearty, open smile broke over his tanned face. His white teeth gleamed more brilliantly than the walls.

“Welcome,” he said in a melodiously deep voice. “I didn’t know we had patrons here. Let me get you checked in. Wait! Are you Roy from the Minnemart?”

“I am. We talked last week,” Roy said, grinning nervously.

“This must be your field trip group then,” the man said enthusiastically. “I’m Trent Adonis, and you are?”

The men introduced themselves, shaking the owner’s hand vigorously. The man appraised them quickly and his open face showed no judgment. Chad rubbed his face nervously.

“Let me show you around. I will confess, I hope you’ll decide to join our club, but there is no hard sales pitch here. I think the facilities and our programs will sell themselves.” Trent rubbed his hands together. “To start, these are the exhibition stalls. Our coaches and consultants do demonstrations during the busy time. From time to time, some of our more exhibitionistic patrons will also fill in. In fact, Trevor is warming up to make an appearance in a minute or so. In the meantime, let me give you a thumbnail sketch of our club’s mission.”

“You mean like peep shows?” Peterson asked, swallowing hard as his eyes flickered back and forth at the equipment behind the glass.

“No,” Trent laughed easily. “They are instructional demos for using different equipment or even some of our classes. They’re not hard on the eyes either.” The owner winked at the fidgeting men. “There is no reason to be nervous.”

“I’ve never belonged to a gym,” Chad said. “I was in football in high school, but that’s about it.”

“You must have done some lifting at home. You’ve got a good build.” The owner’s appreciative smirk made the mechanic blush.

“I lift some with my son at home. Of course, my work is pretty physical anyway,” Chad stuttered.

“Roy, you said you are already a member of a gym?” Trent asked as he grabbed a clipboard from the desk. “Which one?”

“It’s an inexpensive one close to my house,” Roy answered. “A Lifestyle Promise one.”

“I see,” Trent said, nodding his head. “And you?” he looked at Peterson.

“I have a treadmill in my basement and a few free weights,” he answered pushing his glasses up his nose. Chad noticed his lazy eye was pointing up toward the ceiling. Trent’s gaze never wavered from Peterson’s face once though. The guy was good.

“Excellent. You are committed to keeping your bodies moving, which is the hard part. Let me explain our philosophy. We cater to gay men even though it’s open to the public. I’m quite upfront about that which generally keeps the less open-minded from joining. While I was working at a Gold’s Gym, I noticed many gay men found themselves less than welcome when around guys like that. I had a problem as a kid being picked last so I wanted to make a safe space for gay men like us to work on our bodies and as a result, our self-esteem.”

The three men nodded. Roy looked over at Peterson and smiled. “Not all of us are gay. Our friend over here is joining us for moral support.”

Chad stifled his smile as Peterson quickly averted his face which was turning pinker by the moment.

It was at this moment, a man, large, heavily muscled, and magnificent, entered the showcase area. He threw his bright white towel on a chair in the center stall and began stretching his bulging arms. His skin was chocolate brown and glistened under the gleaming lights of the station. The man’s torso was bare and hairless. Around his middle was a tight pair of light blue trunks with a slit up each leg. They made his powerful legs look larger than life.

The man didn’t look out through the window, instead he deliberately avoided looking at the four men right before him. He struck a few graceful poses showing the extent of his bodybuilding efforts. Chad and Roy could barely pull their stares away as Trent resumed his monologue.

“I wanted a space where men could explore their physical selves without reproach. We offer personal coaches and body consultants. The first five hours are free, but after that, there is an additional charge. Our intent is for the trainers to get our patrons started, but their efforts are their own.”

“Are there no women here?” Roy asked, looking over at Peterson again. Peterson’s face fell. Trent’s eyes followed and he nodded to all three.

“We do have women, mostly younger, twenty-somethings who find traditional gyms too competitive or intimidating.”

“Oh, they don’t care most of the people here are gay?” Chad asked.

“No. I’ve had a few conversations about what draws young straight women here and most of them like how they never get hit on. I asked them about all women clubs and I found some of them think places like Curvatures or Gal’s Space can be too clique-y for them. Apparently, some women give the younger generation grief about their looks at times.” Trent looked almost apologetic about his explanation.

“You mean some of the women get bitchy about pretty girls showing off,” Roy laughed.

“I gather that was their problem,” Trent responded, hiding his smirk. “Regardless, you’ll find most of our patrons, regardless of their stage of physical fitness, are friendly and helpful without attitude. Rather than explain everything, let me show you the space. I think it will show you what I mean.”

“Sounds good,” Roy said. He glanced at the beautiful, dark specimen as he started doing seated curls, his legs and arms bunching and relaxing with ease while a tiny stream of sweat trailed down his chiseled face. He never looked up while concentrating on his workout.

“Enough with the eye candy,” Chad chuckled and jostled his boss. “Your mouth is wide open.”

Roy chuckled and nudged Chad back. “I saw you looking too.”

“I’m not immune to his looks,” Chad said. “I think he’s inspiring.”

“I see what he’s inspiring,” Roy said, looking down at Chad’s crotch.

“Stop it,” Chad laughed, but moved his gym bag in front of his middle.

The three men followed as Trent led them around the counter and towards a set of doors to the far right side. “After you join, we have a patron’s entrance from the parking lot. There is no need to come into reception unless you have business to attend to, or want to watch the demos. There is a key scanner giving you access.”

As they walked into the main section of the gym, Chad heard Roy gasp. It was a beautiful space. The machines and weights gleamed under the lights, the floor sparkled, and it didn’t smell like any fitness center he’d ever entered. It smelled fresh and clean.

There weren’t many people around except a couple of young women in scanty lycra shorts and tops to the left at a kind of semi-private section open only to the side. The equipment was arranged in groups that seemed to correspond to a section of the body. Instead of a bank of cardio equipment, there were treadmills and stepping machines dispersed throughout the space mixed with the weight machines.

“We wanted people to have their own exercise area if possible. You’ll find others may share it with you, but only if you agree. Some of our patrons have become exercise buddies from spotting one another or chatting while working out.” Trent was beaming with pride as he watched the three men look around in wonder.

“Why are there enclosures?” Chad asked, pointing to one of the more secluded areas.

“Sometimes you want to work-out alone so you can. I first had the idea when I realized many gay men have serious locker room issues and don’t want others watching them exercise. The enclosures give you some measure of privacy.”

Chad looked at Roy who was holding in giggles. Peterson cleared his throat. “With all these gay guys around, what stops them from using this like a bathhouse?”

Roy jerked his head toward the blond man and scowled. Chad looked at him in surprise. What did the awkward nerd know about bathhouses?

“We have closed circuit cameras around,” Trent chuckled. “That’s a good question. We aren’t a sex club and we strive to make it a safe space for all without having to witness some guys doing the nasty.”

“Oh, I didn’t mean to insult you,” Peterson said ducking his head.

“Trust me, we did have a couple of instances when we first opened. We quickly stifled that behavior,” Trent said. “It does get a little stimulating at times. None of us are immune.”

“No, I guess not,” Roy said shaking his head. “Some of us more than others.”

Chad smacked him again and pretended to pout. Roy only grinned and turned back to their guide.

“Over here are the classrooms and private consulting rooms. Over there is the locker room. We have towel service available and a locker rental comes with the subscription to our services. There are events from time to time and there is a social room on the far end of the hallway. I like to think we have created a community of sorts,” Trent said.

“It’s really nice, but looks pretty spendy,” Peterson said gruffly. “What is the membership fee at a place like this?”

Trent explained the different payment options and the men agreed the eight workouts a month plan was very affordable. Roy diplomatically explained the gym was some distance from Chaska where he and Roy lived, but immediately Peterson said it wasn’t far from his house. Roy looked at the man in shock. Peterson just shrugged his shoulders.

“Over here is the section I’ve reserved for you to try out the equipment and feel out the place.” Trent showed them a nice little grouping with two cardio machines, three weight contraptions, and a nice, small free weight collection. The three men nodded in pleasure at the set-up. “First, let’s get you changed. I have three lockers for you to put your clothes and things. You have exercise togs, right?”

“We brought stuff,” Roy said, following their host back to the locker room. As they stepped into the space, the men looked at each other and smiled. It wasn’t the usual musty, sweaty, foul smelling place they’d encountered in other places. There was the faint aroma of lemon and lavender in the dry air.

“We have a special air exchange system,” Trent said before they could ask. “Even in the winter, the locker room is fresh as a daisy. It’s one of my proudest features.”

The three men thanked Trent and he left them to change.

“It really is a nice place,” Roy said as he slipped off his jeans and hung them in his locker.

Chad nodded and tried to look the other way. He couldn’t help but peek as Roy bent over and pulled a pair of shorts out of his gym bag. The man was wearing a skimpy pair of red briefs that hugged his round ass perfectly framing it like a picture. He groaned inwardly and tugged off his shirt. Chad pulled on an oversized gray t-shirt and then out of the corner of his eye saw Roy pulling up the gray, mid-thigh stretch pants. Chad caught a squeak from escaping his mouth as the man squeezed his voluptuous bubble butt into the tightly fitting shorts.

Chad looked away and starting thinking about multiplication tables, silently counting out numbers to clear his over-heated mind.

Roy turned and saw the look on Chad’s face. It was a mixture of awe and discomfort. He smiled, wondering what was bothering his friend so much. After putting on a form fitting tank top, Roy grabbed his kicks and sat on the bench to lace them up.

Chad was hanging up his khakis, standing there in his blue boxer briefs. His legs were so muscular, leading up to a tantalizingly generous bulge in his underwear. When his mother commented on Chad’s endowment, he’d thought she was exaggerating. It didn’t look like she was. Chad filled out the space just right. As the mechanic stepped into a baggy pair of oversized red basketball shorts, the image of his manhood disappeared from sight. It didn’t disappear from Roy’s head however, and he hunched over busying himself with his shoes.

Roy and Chad finished dressing and closed their lockers, slipping the key with the stretch cord onto their wrists. “Are you ready to go?” Roy asked his friend. Chad nodded and they looked over at Peterson.

He was still in his street clothes, fiddling with his shirt buttons and pretending to look in the plastic bag with his gym things in it.

“Why aren’t you changed yet?” Chad asked Peterson.

“I’m about to,” Peterson said looking at something else in his empty locker. “I’ll meet you out there.”

“Peterson!” Roy said sharply. “You don’t have anything we haven’t seen before. Get dressed.”

“I’ll be out in a minute,” the man said, looking at them sheepishly. “It takes me a little longer.”

“Come on,” Chad said grabbing his boss’ arm. “He’s locker room shy. See you out there.”

“I’ll be right out,” Peterson said with a gulp.

“What the hell?” Roy said as they walked out of the locker room. “He’s still nervous about changing in front of a couple of gay guys I guess.”

Chad shrugged and averted his face. He didn’t want his smirk to give Peterson’s secret away. “Maybe.”

“I’m trying out the sitting bench press,” Roy said, walking quickly to their appointed area. Chad followed along and noticed there were a few more people now. There was a group of three young men, lifting and grunting in the next aisle. The two young women had been joined by another who had bright red hair and was laughing like a hyena. Nobody was paying any attention to them. Well, except the little twinky dude at a work-out section by himself. He was doing squats with a pair of small barbells and flashed them a smile.

“I’ll use the leg press,” Chad said as he entered their area. Roy was already seated in the machine and lifting a couple of ten pound weights to warm up. His boss smiled at him and pushed the bar up easily.

Chad set the leg weights and decided to start slow as well. He didn’t need to limp around work like an injured animal. His legs lifted and the muscles bunched as he completed an up position.

“Finally,” Roy said, nodding toward the locker room door. Peterson was standing at the doorway, looking around nervously. Chad ignored him and did a couple more lifts until his legs started to feel a little tingly. After grunting and straining a little, he looked up and saw Peterson had finally made his way over to them. He was standing on the edge of the circle of machines and looking at each of them with obvious anxiety.

“Jeez, Peterson,” Roy gasped. Chad looked over and his mouth dropped open. “You’re hung like a fucking horse, dude.”

Peterson looked at them, his lips snarled and color darkened. “What did you call me?”

Roy’s eyes were fixed on the man. Peterson was dressed in the most ridiculous outfit he’d ever seen. On his feet were red and white Keds and the man had on long tube socks with orange and green stripes that were pulled almost to his knees. His shirt was a threadbare white t-shirt of the type you wore under clothes, not as workout gear. What was the most shocking were the thin, short, old-fashioned gym shorts Peterson was wearing. They were the type worn in junior high schools in the 1980’s. Not only were they too short, they encased the man’s obscene bulge jutting out in a green jockstrap that accentuated his genital size.

“Nice outfit,” Chad chuckled after he pulled his tongue back in his mouth. “I think Roy was complimenting you though.”

Peterson’s face was stricken. He looked like he wanted to run.

“Get in here and start lifting or running or something,” Roy said waving at him. “Good lord, you do have quite the package.”

Peterson’s discomfort seemed to ease. He shrugged and walked over to the treadmill and started pushing buttons. “It’s never done me any favors,” he said looking at Roy. “Please don’t make me feel self-conscious.”

“I’m sorry,” Roy said letting go of the handles of his machine. “I never suspected you had a monster like that. Wait, is that why you always wear pleated slacks? I thought you had terrible taste not that you were hiding something.”

“It draws less unwanted attention,” Peterson said climbing onto the machine as it started moving. “I was called a freak in school.”

“A freak?” Roy said. “They were jealous, dude. You are huge.”

Peterson hit a button on the machine and it whine to a stop. “I’m leaving.”

“Don’t leave,” Chad said getting up from his seat. “I’ve got an extra pair of shorts that aren’t quite so, well, revealing.”

“I didn’t realize they were so short,” Peterson stuttered. “I wear them at home and never noticed.”

“You’re giving Roy high blood pressure and those girls are looking over here,” Chad said touching the man’s shoulder. “Come with me. It’ll be fine.”

Peterson nodded and followed. Roy watched as they walked quickly back into the locker room. He noticed the little twinky boy was practically drooling as he watched the two men pass him by. Roy chuckled and moved the leve,r adding more weight to his machine.

************

Chad’s legs were quite hairy, the type of dark fur that laid straight against his pale skin pointing downward toward his feet. Roy noticed there was an aberrant line of hair that led up one side of the man’s thigh and gave the impression of an arrow pointing toward the man’s groin. He let his eyes travel slowly up the length of his bulging muscles and straining tendons to the loose opening of the man’s basketball shorts.

The shorts had ridden up bunching at his crotch, gaping and showing the shadow of the hidden skin with more hair. Roy couldn’t look away. It was the most erotic thing he’d ever seen. The movement of the skin sliding and stretching over the heaving flesh beneath, was suggestive. The pumping action of Chad’s legs conjured other images. Roy could almost feel the soft, plentiful hair caress and rub against his bare skin. A tickle started at the base of his spine. It spread as warmth through his loins. While the friction was only a sensation in his head, it seemed real. Roy shuddered and pulled his eyes from that line of hair that beckoned and teased him. He started lifting the machine’s bar and let the burn of his muscles clear his imagination.

Chad saw Roy’s pause and could almost sense the twinkling eyes stroke his leg. He let the weight carriage down slowly. The other man was now grunting as he pushed the handles of the machine upwards. Roy’s eyes were closed, his lips pressed together and concentrating on the strain of the weight. A tiny bead of sweat was sliding down the man’s nose. As it reached the tip, it stopped and gathered with other bits of moisture and hung there. The droplet sparkled in the light, hanging there and tantalizing him.

Chad watched, rapt with the expression on Roy’s face. He looked in pain one moment, almost in ecstasy the next. Each lift of the bar forced sounds out of him. They weren’t loud or obvious and were like music to his ears. Sometimes Roy would almost coo as he let the bar settle down, apparently releasing his muscles from their struggle. Tiny gasps would then puff from his lips, those full red lips that were puffy from the effort. Chad’s mind took Roy’s face and put it under him, in the bedroom, as their flesh became one. Roy’s sounds were because of him, not the weights. His sounds of relief and satisfaction were residues of their motion together.

Chad rubbed his face, dispelling the image of licking that miniscule droplet from Roy’s nose with his tongue. It took a few seconds, but finally he got himself under control. Entertaining these images, these fantasies were foolish. This was his boss. He was getting his life together and dreaming of Roy’s writhing, ravishing face, wouldn’t help.

“Where’s Peterson?” Roy said breaking Chad from his thoughts.

“I don’t know,” Chad answered looking around. “There he is. Fuck, he’s talking with the twinky guy over there.”

“What the hell?” Roy said, his voice filled with wonder. “Is Peterson actually gay?”

Chad rubbed his face again, wiping his grin away. “I really couldn’t say.”

“That boy is working him for everything he’s worth. Look at how he touches Peterson’s shoulder and then his hair. The guy is giggling and staring at him with such hunger. Damn!” Roy chuckled. “I think the little dude liked what he saw Peterson is packing.”

“Maybe,” Chad said. He turned again and looked at them more carefully. “Isn’t that Wes?”

“Who?” Roy asked.

“Wes, the waiter from the strip club.” Chad squinted and saw the man had twinkling piercings in the same places though it was hard to tell for sure.

“No wonder he’s coming with us for our little adventures. Maybe he’s curious,” Roy said. “Tyrell is gonna lose it. He was so sure.”

“Don’t tease him, Roy,” Chad said looking at Roy sternly. “He’s so painfully shy.”

“He doesn’t look shy right now,” Roy said. “He’s showing the guy how to isolate a triceps curl. Peterson’s got his hands all over the guy. Shit!”

“Let him be, okay?” Chad said soberly. “I happen to know it’s hard admitting it to others.”

“I know,” Roy said, waving his hand. “Don’t worry. I won’t bug him.”

“We’re here bitches!” they heard a voice ring out over the gym. A group of men were flooding through the side entrance slipping into the room. A large, ginger haired man was leading them in, sashaying in an exaggerated swing of his hips. “We won! We beat the Madison queens for the first time.”

A few of the other patrons started clapping. The front door opened and Trent came bursting out, his smile beaming proudly.

“You won,” Trent yelled. “Yes!” he pumped his fist.

“Minnesota Mayhem is in the house!” the guy yelled again. Like the men following behind him, he was dressed in very short yellow shorts with black stripes and matching tunics that had “Mayhem” in big black letters.

“This calls for a celebration,” Trent said clapping the yelling man on the shoulder. He hugged a couple more of the guys and they crowded around him. “Let’s have some drinks and snacks in the social room. My treat.”

The newly arrived group roared and cheered him, separating to let him race toward the back of the gym. “Come on, everyone’s invited.”

The group followed him, talking loudly and bellowing chants that “Mayhem mashed the maggots.”

“What is that?” they heard Peterson ask. Behind him was the twink. It was Wes the waiter. He was beaming with delight.

“That’s the gay rugby team. They’ve been trying to beat their rivals from Wisconsin for four years. I guess they finally won,” Wes answered. “Hey guys. Come join the party.”

“I think we’ll just finish up here,” Roy chuckled. “I wouldn’t want to intrude.”

“They’re pretty pumped up,” Chad added.

“They’re so hot,” Wes said. “I’m going back, unless you’ve changed your mind, cutie.”

Peterson blushed a deep purple as Wes caressed his arm invitingly. “I’m sure.”

“Your loss,” Wes said, blowing him a kiss and waving to the other two men.

“You’ve got an admirer,” Roy said getting an elbow in the gut from Chad. “What? He does.”

Peterson looked confused and raised his eyebrows at the mechanic. Chad shrugged and when Roy looked away mouthed, ‘not me’ to the other man. Peterson relaxed and turned to watch as the waiter scampered across the gym to the back hallway.

“Are you done already?” Peterson asked. “I haven’t tried any of the machines yet.”

“I’m going to do some cardio and then I’d say we’re done,” Roy said. He looked to Chad who nodded and smiled at his friend.

They got onto the twin treadmills and Roy and Chad chattered about the gym and working out in general. Peterson sat down at the leg extension machine and watched the two of them. He got lost in the rhythm of the sounds of the whoosh of the treadmills and the sliding chain of his machine when he heard a voice in his ear.

“Wes is right. You are a cutie,” the voice breathed on his cheek. Peterson jumped and the weight came crashing down.

“What the-?” he said looking up. It was the big, brassy haired man from before. Behind him was an even bigger, dark haired man with a sheepish grin on his face. Next to them Wes stood, his arms crossed and leering at him.

Roy hit the stop button on his machine, with Chad doing so a split second later.

Peterson scooted away, his eyes flashing with fear. “I’m sorry?” The rugby guys grinned with delight.

“I’m Roy,” he said thrusting a hand into the ginger haired man’s face.

“Oh, hi! I’m Adam,” the man said with a thick English accent filled with sassiness. “This big ox is my partner, Gunner. We wanted to invite you to our party. Everyone else came back except you blokes.”

“Please excuse my mate’s pushiness,” the large mountain said with a grin. He pushed his own large paw out to shake Chad’s hand. “He doesn’t take no for an answer sometimes.”

“We’re friendly. That’s all,” Adam grinned at them with a suggestive wink. “Come back and meet some of the guys. Angus bites, but the rest of us don’t.”

Peterson looked at Wes, who shrugged and winked at him. “They don’t like the word ‘no’. It makes for some interesting times.”

“I’m sorry,” Chad said, grinning at them broadly. “We have to get going. It was nice of you to ask though.”

“You’re a nice hunk of beef,” the ginger haired guy said. He stood up and stretched to one side and then the other. His skimpy shorts rode up even more showing them a glimpse of his jock. “I bet you played American football.”

“I did, quite a long time ago,” Chad admitted. “Why?”

“You should come out for rugby. You’ve got the build and I’m guessing the killer instinct too,” Adam said. He elbowed his mate, who nodded in agreement.

“We’d love to have you join us mate,” Gunner said, his deep voice almost a growl.

“I’m not sure I’d fit in,” Chad chuckled nervously.

“Of course you would,” Gunner said, looking him over. “Besides, you’d look great in our kit.”

Chad’s eyes got big as the other man openly ogled him. Roy looked over and began picturing Chad’s hairy, thick thighs in the tiny yellow and black shorts. He could see the rugby shirt tightly encase the man’s thick torso and his arms stretching the fabric when he flexed. His knees got a little weak.

“Chad, you are a jock at heart,” Roy said, his voice a little unsteady. “You should think about it.”

Peterson smirked at them. “Why not? It could be part of your gay-ducation.”

“I don’t know…” Chad said.

“How about you join us for a little gathering we’re having next weekend. A bunch of us are getting together after practice at Wilde’s Green and Yellow Tavern over in Riverside. We can give you the whole pitch,” Gunner said.

“I’ll be there too,” Wes said, looking at Peterson longingly. “Say you’ll come meet us.”

“I don’t know,” Peterson said. “What do you guys think?”

“It sounds fun,” Roy said after a moment. “We should go. Do they still have trivia on Saturday nights?”

“They do. We play a round or two and play some draughts,” Adam said. “Come on. It’ll be brilliant.”

“Say you’ll come too,” Wes begged and leaned over near Peterson’s ear. “Please Hor­-“

“Don’t call me that,” Peterson barked. He stared at the waiter, but those pouting lips made him sigh in resignation. “Okay, I’ll go if you promise not to call me that.”

“I won’t Mr. Peterson,” Wes said kissing him on the cheek. “I’m so excited.”

Adam and Gunner started laughing at the young man who was blushing almost as badly as Peterson.

“Just call me Peterson, okay?” he finally muttered.

“Sure,” Wes said, hugging himself. “See you next weekend.”

The men all shook hands and confirmed their plans. As they headed back to the locker room, Roy pulled Chad closer. Peterson was still trying to break away from the enthusiastic waiter. Wes was bouncing around like a little kid.

“I’ve got a sneaking suspicion Peterson isn’t as straight as he pretends to be,” he whispered into Chad’s ear.

Chad shook his head and looked away. “You never know. You just never do know.”