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    Jack Poignet
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
There‘ll be some unusual, graphic male-male sex scenes of a vampiric nature in this story. Some language / attitude early on can be considered homophobe.

Hungry for Gains - 1. The Forge

Lucas is serious about Lifting. However, at his gym, he notices some strange things are going on. Guys show unnatural gains and there‘s a group of twinks acting rather suspiciously. Realizing he noticed them, Lucas gets an offer he can‘t refuse.

The Forge. Lucas’ second home, and his favourite place in the world, was packed tonight, prime time for the regulars. Heavy bass music, syncopated with the crashes of clanging metal, powered the guys through their workouts. The stench of sweat and testosterone filled the air.

Lucas gripped the barbell, veins popping as he pulled through the deadlifts, sweat glistening on his shoulder and leaving dark stains on the shirt down his broad back. He could feel eyes on him, judging, admiring glances mixed with envy—exactly how he liked it.

“Beast mode, bro!” someone yelled from across the room as Lucas grunted, finishing his set. He straightened up, barely glancing at the guy who shouted, but the smirk that curled on his lips was undeniable. The mirrors lining the walls were his best friend as he lifted his shirt slightly to check his abs between sets. Perfectly cut. He could feel the tension in the room shift as more heads turned in his direction. Lucas thrived on this. You don’t hit the gym six days a week to go unnoticed.

One guy strutted past wearing shorts that could barely be considered clothing. They clung tight around his bulging quads, leaving nothing to the imagination. Lucas cocked an eyebrow. “Dude, just call ‘em underwear,” he muttered under his breath, laughing to himself as the guy flexed in front of the mirror.

Movement drew his attention to the entrance. Jazz was arriving. Big fucking Jazz. Lucas couldn’t believe how fucking huge that guy had become. Wasn’t he always smaller than Lucas… and even a bit chubby? Damn it. He wondered what stuff the guy was on. He‘d checked him out often enough lately, during workouts and in the locker room. The veins kept to a natural, aesthetically pleasing amount, and there wasn’t even the smallest pimple in sight. He hated that guy‘s guts.

How odd. It looked like Jazz waved at someone when he came in. When Lucas looked around, it was just the usual crowd. Big dudes constantly checking their reflection, testing their muscle pump between sets. Desperate women you needed to avoid unless you wanted to glue shut your lungs by the excessive amount of hair spray they were using. Some older fat blokes he almost felt sorry for. Who did Jazz greet?

Something caught Lucas’s attention—a group of young guys, way too thin, too cute and out of place in a gym like this. They moved through the room like they owned the place, mustering some of the biggest guys with definite hunger in their eyes. What were those faggots called again? Twinks? Lucas had never noticed them before. They must be new here. Why can‘t the gym be reserved for real guys who were serious about lifting? He didn‘t mind them ogling him sometimes, but…

The twinks—there were four of them—looked like they’d been dropped in from a fashion shoot by accident. Tight tank tops, shorts that barely qualified as clothing, and perfectly styled hair. Their lean frames were an anomaly compared to the muscle mountains sweating it out around them. Yet, despite their size, they had an aura of control. People gave them space without really noticing them.

Lucas squinted. They weren’t staff, but really, now that he had noticed and observed them, they definitely moved around like they owned the place. Maybe he had seen them before, always there but never registering, never lifting It was weird. They floated through the gym with an ease that didn’t match the atmosphere, like they weren’t bound by the rules that kept everyone else in their lane.

One of them was fluffing his hair in front of the mirror near the water fountain, his pouty lips forming an exaggerated frown. “I swear, the air in here is, like, making my skin dry out,” he said in a voice dripping with faux despair.

“More muscles, less moisturizer,” another one teased, flexing playfully. He wasn’t big, but his defined biceps peeked from under his tank top. He giggled like he was in on some joke no one else got.

Just then, Jazz return from the locker room and one of the twinks split from his group, slipped into a side door and left it open. Jazz followed. Fortunately for Lucas, the door kept standing slightly ajar.

His curiosity got the better of him, and he inconspicuously took a few steps to the side, peeking into the room. What did Jazz have to do with the twink? He managed to see how the twink scribbled something on a note pad and gave Jazz a clear, small plastic cup with something in it. A pill? Jazz took it, gulped it down with some water and—with a wave, a happy smile and a “thanks”—left the room. Leaving the room himself, the twink closed the door again. He caught Lucas staring.

Lucas shook his head. That was all so… weird. But now that he had noticed the twink and his friends, something about them kept drawing his attention. One of the other twinks especially struck Lucas as interesting. His gaze was sharp, playful, and confident in a way that Lucas wasn’t used to seeing in guys that size. In his own way, he was stunning. Each time when Lucas looked over, without fail and as if sensing Lucas’ eyes on him, the twink stared back and smiled.. It wasn’t an ordinary smile—there was something predatory about it, like he knew exactly what Lucas was thinking.

Embarrased, Lucas continued his workout, trying not to look and to shake off the odd vibe, but before he knew it, the twink was in front of him. He was close, too close for Lucas not to notice the faint scent of something expensive—cologne that didn’t belong in a place like The Forge. He liked it.

“Hi, I‘m Ethan,” the twink said. His eyes flicked over Lucas’s body, lingering at all the right spots.

“You look incredible,” Ethan said, his voice smooth and unsettlingly calm. “Do you work out often, or are you just naturally gifted?”

Lucas chuckled, caught off guard by the compliment, but not exactly hating it. He obviously wasn‘t a homophobe, he was just too much man for that. “Uh, yeah, six days a week,” he replied, standing a little taller, instinctively flexing his chest.

Ethan’s lips curled into a smile, eyes sparkling under the gym lights. “I can tell. You’ve got that… perfect balance. Big, but still, you know, sculpted.” His fingers ghosted over Lucas’ biceps, the touch light but deliberate. Lucas didn’t pull back, though a shiver ran down his spine. Let the little one have a feel then…

“We couldn‘t help but notice you observed my friend’s little exchange with Jazz earlier. Anything you want to ask?”

“Yeah, that pill or whatever… is that the reason why he‘s so freaking huge now? Even CBum would take notice.”

Ethan laughed at that, but then leaned closer and whispered, “We shouldn‘t discuss it out here, but if you‘re interested… the door‘s open.” With that, he turned and disappeared through the side door, leaving it ajar for Lucas.

Lucas looked around. Beside the other twinks, who had all observed him talking to Ethan, no one was taking any notice. Quickly, he followed through the door and closed it behind him.

Please give lot‘s of feedback. I can only improve my writing if I know what you think of it…
Copyright © 2024 Jack Poignet; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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