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“Brah!” That’d be Jay. Scott walked over and joined them.
Tad grinned and clasped his palm. “Jayman. What up?”
“Not much, man.” His blue eyes slid straight to Scott. “Scott. How goes it?”
Scott nodded. “It goes well.” He motioned Jay to enter, then greeted the others. “Breck, long time. Ned, lookin’ good.”
Breck nodded with a smile. Ned flat-out beamed. “Thanks. You, too.” He elbowed Breck’s side as they entered. “You hear that, Mr. Point Guard. Tad’s man thinks I’m hot.”
Breck rolled his eyes and kept going. Tad groaned under his breath. Which, of course, had Scott fighting back a laugh. “Come on,” he chuckled. “The basement’s this way.”
Tad fell in beside him as Scott led the way, all five entering the gym a moment later.
“Dayum…” Jay whistled low and glanced around. “This place is sooo much better than I’d expected. Was bracing for some kinda wannabe—”
“Dude,” Tad cut him off with an aggravated look. “Use your filter. We’ve been over this.”
“What? What’d I say?” Jay looked affronted.
Ned snorted out a laugh. “Don’t mind dumbass, Scott. Too much salt water has liquefied his brain.”
Scott chuckled, walking over to his stereo system. “S’all good. I was able to decipher the compliment.”
“Yeah.” Jay flipped Ned the bird with a smirk. “I was giving the man a compliment. Who’s the dumbass now?”
“I dunno,” Breck chimed in, scanning the room. “I’m thinking it’s a pretty solid tie.”
“Oh, blow me.” Jay grinned, grabbing his crotch, but Ned quickly gave him a disapproving shove.
“Dude. Not cool.” He tilted his head toward Tad. “There are gay guys in the room. Have some tact.”
Scott couldn’t hold it back. Just cracked up laughing. Partially because, yeah, Tad’s friends were a riot, but mostly because of Tad’s mortified expression. Scott cleared his throat and motioned Tad over. “C’mere, Tad. Help me pick out some tunes.”
Tad strode stiffly over, muttering low when he arrived. “It’s only gonna get worse. Just so you know.”
Scott grinned. “I have no doubt.” He scrolled through his playlists. “Whatchu in the mood for? Rock? Rap? Alternative? Punk?”
Tad scratched his cheek and warily glanced over his shoulder. “Got one with all of the above?”
“I do.”
Tad turned back, then stilled as he eyed Scott’s selection. A smile lit his features. “You named a playlist after me?”
Scott slid him a look. His lips curved, too. “Uh huh. Quite a few of ‘em, actually.”
Tad’s brows rose. “More than one?”
“Yup.” Scott thumb-tapped the play icon. “Keep It Mello” bumped to life in the blink of an eye, Marshmello’s laidback hip-hop vibe filling every corner.
Tad visibly eased.
Scott smiled. “Come on. Let’s go break a sweat.”
Tad shot him a look as they turned and headed back, one that clearly said, “How ‘bout we break one in private.”
Scott’s dick stirred in his shorts but he willed it to stand down.
All in due time, Shy Boy. All in due time.
Unsurprisingly, with that in mind, the next hour ticked by slow, with Scott sitting it out when it came time to bench-press so Tad could spot Breck, and vice versa. Not a big deal. Scott just took the opportunity to openly drink down the sight of his man. Occasionally, as if sensing the weight of his stare, Tad would glance over and catch Scott watching him. At which point, Scott would slip him a heated look, if nothing more than to make his boy blush.
Shit, he loved when Tad’s cheeks heated up. It made Scott want to call it a night and get to what he really wanted to do. Which, at the moment—as Tad tossed him hot looks, too—was to bend Tad over the nearest apparatus. Bend him over, then sink inside and get busy taking him apart. Till Tad’s curses and grunts turned to gasps and moans. Till his whole body shook from jarring bliss.
Again, Scott’s cock tried to rouse in his shorts. He gave it a squeeze as Tad glanced his way. Tad’s lips parted. Scott grinned. But then Breck grunted really loud, pulling Tad’s focus back to his friend on the bench.
Scott sighed and slid his gaze over to Jay and Ned, who appeared to be in some kind of stationary lunge race. Lurching forward and back again as fast as they could while holding a weighted workout bar across their shoulders. Jay was losing—not by much—but his expression wasn’t pretty. He clearly took competition very seriously. Ned, however, didn’t seem to care. From what Scott could glean of his shit-eating grin, the bulk of Ned’s glee came from getting Jay riled up.
“Cheater,” Jay panted, clearly giving it all he had.
Ned laughed his ass off, nearly tipping over. “How can one cheat at fucking lunges?”
Scott grinned and looked back at Tad. Shit, yeah. Finally. Shy Boy’s turn to pump some iron. And fuck, did he look good spread across that bench. Chest bare, abs tight, knees spread, feet braced.
