Page 30 of Jackrabbit

Chapter 19

“Again,” Beau snapped for the hundredth goddamn time in an hour.

“I think you're trying to murder me dead.” Colt groaned. He pressed his face into the gym floor mat. It was slick with his sweat. “I can't do any more.”

“You better find a way,” Beau rumbled as he pulled the weight off of Colt’s back. “Breathe and reset.”

Sadist. Colt was pretty sure Beau was a sadist.

“Beau, have mercy,” Colt whined, relishing the fact, even three days later, that he got to use that name. It felt good in his mouth, the way he imagined other things wo—

Nope. Bad brain. Bad.

“No mercy behind the wheel.” Beau pressed the toes of his workout shoes against Colt’s stomach. “You think you can bitch and whine your way off a track at lap fifty-six? Back up, boy.”

At the end of the day, Colt would probably go until he passed out if Beau asked him to. So he put his toes back on the box, his elbows back on the floor in the right position, and himself into a plank. Beau added the weight to his back again, and Colt puffed out air that sent the sweat from his face scattering in droplets across the floor.

Every muscle in his body was burning, and his hips began to dip. Colt felt Beau lean down to grab the weight, but Colt knew he hadn't hit time yet, so he forced his body to cooperate before Beau could take the plate.

Beau paused. Stepped back. “Good, boy. That's real good. Hold it.”

If he'd thought he was burning before, it was nothing compared to the way heat surged down his spine. It went straight to his core, and his hips dipped again as he felt himself growing hard, and oh, fuck. Oh, shit. Beau had said ‘good, boy’, but Colt’s traitorous mind was warping it into ‘good boy’, and he was never going to get that out of his head, and why was that so fucking hot?

***

Colt whimpered. It was such a quiet sound that Beau was sure he wouldn’t have heard it at all if he hadn’t been paying such close attention to Colt’s breathing. Colt’s hips dipped, again, his neck flushed pink. His shoulders were staying strong, and he wasn’t quivering like he usually did before he lost his form. Beau had told him he was doing good, Colt had gone spectacularly red, made that noise, and lost his form.

“You’re done.” Beau pulled the weight off, and Colt collapsed against the gym floor, panting. Beau kicked the bottom of Colt’s shoe. “Should post a picture of you dying on the mats like this. Followers would eat that right up.”

Colt’s middle finger rose, and he kept his face pressed into the mat.

Beau snorted. “That's the spirit.”

“Fuck off,” came the muffled response, but there was no heat to it.

Whatever had screwed up his form seemed to have passed, but it was still nagging at Beau. He knew he was going to be chewing on this moment for a while. “Five minutes. Then resistance work.”

“Got it, coach.” Colt rolled heavily onto his back. His t-shirt was soaked through with sweat, stuck to his pumped pecs and abs like a second skin.

Beau watched out of the corner of his eye as Colt lifted his phone with a shaking arm and snapped a picture of himself. Taking Beau's suggestion, even though it had been a joke.

When his five minutes were up, Colt stood and stretched his arms over his head. “The internet is a brutal place,” he sighed as he tossed his phone in his gym bag.

Beau didn't say anything, but he didn't need to. Colt would wind himself right up in a conversation and let himself go. Sure enough, a second later he was standing next to Beau saying, “That last sim crash got a lot of views. And apparently everyone who's ever played GTA and their mother knows exactly what my rookie ass did wrong.”

“Mhmm.” Beau picked up a resistance band. “Didn't pick up the hooker on Main.”

“I'm sorry, did you just say hooker?” Colt laughed. “You telling me you play videogames, old man? Follow this granny on TikTok who's learning to play Minecraft. Maybe you two should do a collab.”

“What's that?” Beau asked as he hooked the resistance band to a sturdy surface. “You wanna run extra laps around the gym today? Good idea.”

“Mean.” Colt stood in position, and Beau handed him the band. “So, like, what other video games do you play? You an Xbox man? Playstation? Atari?”

“Christ. Atari.” Beau shook his head and tucked Colt’s elbows in for him. “You're a shit. Anyone ever tell you that?”

Colt turned to grin at him. “You like it.”

Beau pushed Colt’s face until his spine was aligned again. “Twenty-five reps, pulling to chest level.”