“Ten more pounds this time,” Dylan said.
Groaning, Auggie wiped his face.
“Come on, Rambo. Don’t wimp out on me.”
“Let’s switch.”
“Not yet. Ten more. Last set.” Dylan straightened from where he had bent to pick up two five-pound weights, grinned, and said, “Let me see those weapons of mass destruction.”
Auggie flipped him off.
Dylan waited.
Grinning, Auggie flexed his arm.
“Fuck yeah.”
When Auggie flipped him off again, Dylan laughed and added the weights to the bar.
By the third rep, Auggie’s arms were shaking, and he was releasing tiny bursts of breath as he struggled to keep the barbell steady.
“Do it,” Dylan shouted down into his face. “Do it! Get that fucking bar up or quit wasting my fucking time!”
Somehow, Auggie did it.
“Fuck yes,” Dylan said. “You are a fucking stud!”
Workouts with Dylan were always intense—had been, even before Lender had broken Auggie’s wrist. Dylan knew exactly how far he could push Auggie. He knew how much he could ask of him. And Auggie gave it to him because of the way Dylan grinned at him, slapped him five, wrapped an arm around his neck, called him Rambo.
They mixed protein shakes in blender bottles, sitting at a table in the gym’s tiny recovery area. Auggie fumbled with the cap a few times; he was shaky, but the good kind of shaky, like he’d pushed himself just past where he thought his limits were. Dylan was sweaty and had gotten a good pump, but he hadn’t worked nearly as hard. He didn’t need to. He was already layered in muscle.
“How many grams of protein are you getting every day?” Dylan asked.
“This has sixty grams.”
“I’m talking total.”
Auggie shrugged.
“I told you to count your macros.”
“Right, I know. Sorry.”
“Your body is a temple, Auggie.”
“I know, I know. I just—I kind of fell off the wagon after I got hurt.”
Dylan grunted and looked away, watching other guys in the gym.
“I’m going to try that app you recommended,” Auggie said.
“Sure,” Dylan said. He was studying a twinkie blond who was standing in front of a mirrored wall, doing hammer curls with fifteen-pound dumbbells.
“And I did a lot of research,” Auggie said, rattling the blender ball in his bottle. “This is the best protein on the market. It’s whey, and it’s a protein isolate, so way less fat and stuff. They even blend in some creatine.” He didn’t add that the tub of powder had cost almost two hundred dollars.
“You’re probably not drinking enough water.”
“No, I’m going to start doing what you told me, about taking a gallon jug to class with me.”
“You’re going to start?”
“I mean,” Auggie said, “I was doing it, but—”
Dylan pushed back from the table, pounded the rest of his shake, and stood. He looked at Auggie, looked at Auggie’s blender bottle, and said, “I guess I just think you shouldn’t be violating your body with animal products. Sorry. That’s just me. I only do plant-based protein powders.”
“But I thought you told me—” He stopped because Dylan had already left, headed for the locker room. When he caught up, Dylan had stripped down to his compression shorts. His body was chiseled—he was a big guy without a trace of fat, every muscle crisply defined. A hint of stubble showed on his chest, and it was obvious Dylan had manscaped everywhere he could reach. The first few times they had worked out, Auggie had tried not to stare. Now he enjoyed looking, but only because it was just the two of them in the locker room.
“If you start doing what I tell you,” Dylan said, his gaze fixed on his shirt as he turned it right-side out. “And I’m saying if because you apparently think I’m full of crap—”
“No, I don’t. I must have missed when you told me—”
“—then I think you’re going to be a fucking beast by the time lacrosse season rolls around.”
Auggie was too surprised to say anything. Then he finally managed: “Really?”
With a tiny grin, Dylan looked up. “I know I’m intense. But I want what’s best for you, and I care about you because I know you’re special. I know you’ve got potential.”
“It’s ok,” Auggie said. Heat ran through him, and his heart hammered in his ears. He turned himself out of his shirt, the movement awkward because of his cast. “I can handle intense.”
“Holy shit,” Dylan said. He was staring at Auggie.
“I don’t really think I’ve gotten much bigger—”
“Auggie, I had no fucking idea.” He was staring at the bruises, mostly green and yellow now, some almost completely faded. “I thought—I mean, I knew you hurt your wrist, but I had no idea. Why didn’t you tell me?”
Auggie shrugged.
Coming closer, Dylan brought up a hand. His touch was light, slick with sweat, gliding along Auggie’s scapula, following the curve of his ribs, tightening around the swell of his bicep. They were alone, and Auggie’s dick hardened, his nipples hardened. Dylan’s erection was visible through the thin nylon of his shorts.
“Who the fuck did this?” he mumbled, seemingly to himself.
Covering one nipple with his hand, Auggie said, “I don’t know, I just—”
Dylan locked both hands around Auggie’s waist and steered him backward, guiding him down the length of the locker room. The showers were private here, individual rooms with long curtains. The air was humid and smelled like Zest soap. When Auggie pushed through the curtain, the wet vinyl clung to him, cold enough to make him shiver, and then it fell shut behind Dylan.
“Dylan,” Auggie said.
“Be quiet.” He shoved his shorts down. His dick was huge, bobbing out in front of him, and next he grabbed Auggie’s gym shorts and the compression shorts underneath, forcing them down past Auggie’s knees. Auggie was painfully hard, and he whimpered when Dylan grabbed him. He kissed Auggie once, their teeth clicking together, and then he forced Auggie’s head to the side, sucking hard on his neck. He moved down, bit Auggie’s collarbone, and whispered, “You are such a fucking man.” His hand tugged, and Auggie groaned. “You are my fucking man, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” Auggie whispered.
“You’re so goddamn special. You’re real.” His head came up, and he locked eyes with Auggie. “You’re real, and everybody else is so fucking fake. You’ve got an old soul, and God, you are so fucking beautiful.” He licked his lips. “Touch my dick.”
Auggie did. He was surprised, his mind already making comparisons, like mine, not like mine, gratified when Dylan moaned and thrust into his hand. He’d come close to this with Theo, once or twice, but that was all. And now it was happening, happening with someone who turned Auggie on, turned every light on and left it blazing.