Working Out Issues Ch. 10
AUTHOR’S NOTE: Okay so! Little twist! This chapter is from Adam’s perspective. Kinda nervous, hope it works, please enjoy, we will be back to Mel in the next one!
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“Adam! What’s good, bro?” Dilruk called out to me.
I shook my head and walked past him to the staff lockers. I felt like a dick for brushing him off but I was pretty sure if I tried to talk I would just start crying again.
My gym stuff was still at home, but I didn’t care. I threw my coat and jacket into the locker and slammed the door. I needed to work out. I needed the rush of dopamine to carry me away from how shitty I felt.
I grabbed two dumbbells off the rack and started doing curls. I focused on my breathing and my form, felt the weights straining against my arms, and let the rest of the world blur away. I was facing the mirror that took up one full wall of the gym, but I barely registered my own reflection: the pathetic, musclebound idiot doing bicep curls in a suit.
I reached the point where I should have finished my set but I just kept going. I wanted my muscles to burn. I wanted the pain to distract me. I wanted to forget about… her.
It didn’t work.
* * * * *
The first time I really thought about dating Mel, I still thought she was a guy. It had been a couple months since I helped him start working out, and things between us were going awesome. His level of fitness had improved so much, and I was as excited about as he was. I loved the way his face lit up after a successful workout, and even though he still shrugged off any compliments I tried to give him, I could tell he was feeling more and more proud of himself. I loved that. I had never really been good at emotional stuff, so I felt like this was my way of paying him back for all of the emotional support he had given me. After that one time we cuddled on my bed, it had kinda become a habit. About once a week we would end up lying together on the couch, hugging and talking about our feelings. It was really nice. Kinda weird, but I didn’t really care about that. I liked it.
Unfortunately, despite Mel’s help, I still felt scared about trying to date again. I hadn’t made a move on a girl in ages, even though the option was definitely there. My gym was very male-dominated, but somehow most of our female clients seemed to end up requesting me as their trainer. At first I had been proud of it. I thought I had built up a reputation as, like, some sort of expert. After the third time a client asked me out I realized what was going on.
It sucked. Honestly, it made me feel like shit. Okay, yeah, I knew I was hot, but I had also taken courses in nutrition, and physiotherapy, and I had even started learning sports massage. I cared about getting the best results for my clients. I had read about an old French physical instructor named Georges Hébert, who had worked under the philosophy “Be strong to be useful”. What was the point of being strong if I couldn’t use it to help people?
But as much as I tried, it seemed like the only person who appreciated my help was Mel. As the weeks went on I realized I was spending most of my time at the gym looking forward to going home and seeing him. While I was holding up boxing pads for some hot college senior to listlessly throw jabs at, I would be picturing the look of intense focus on Mel’s face as he worked out in front of the TV at home.
“I guess I must have impressed you today,” said my client, Diane, after we finished her session.
I blinked. Honestly, she hadn’t impressed me at all. I had planned out a whole program using rubber bands and bar hangs to target the areas where I thought she needed the most improvement, but she had brushed it off as “too weird and complicated”, which meant we had to default to boxercise, which she barely put any effort into anyway. After a while I had just zoned out and spent the whole time thinking about Mel. He would have tried my new program. And sure, maybe he would have fallen off the bar, but he would have made some sort of funny joke about it and tried again. I smiled. I hoped his review meeting was going well. It had to be. They’d be crazy to risk losing him.
“Hey!” said Diane, snapping her fingers, “Meathead! I said, I must have impressed you today, right? You had that goofy smile on your face the whole time.”
“Oh, yeah,” I said quickly, snapping out of my reverie. I had no idea what Diane was talking about, but I wasn’t gonna miss the chance to encourage her, “Yeah, totally! I can tell you have so much potential, dude! We just need to figure out the workout that suits you the most.”
“Mm,” Diane smirked, “That sounds great. Why don’t you come over to my place and show me some of your moves?”
I perked up. Diane was actually willing to put in extra effort outside of a session? Unheard of. And sick!
“Awesome!” I grinned, “I actually think we can figure it out right now! So, if you’re not into the rubber bands-“
Diane laughed, “Oh my god, are you as dumb as you look? I’m asking şişli travesti you back to my place. For sex.”
Oh. Right. All the enthusiasm and positivity that had built up during our session drained out of my body. My shoulders slumped.
“Sorry,” I said, “That’s super flattering but… I don’t date clients.”
“Who said anything about dating?” Diane smirked, “I just want to put that hot body to use.”
I shrank back. Put that hot body to use. Damn. I was pretty that was not the kind of use Georges Hébert had been talking about. I knew Diane was just trying to be flirty. Maybe she even thought it was a compliment. But… man.
“Sorry Diane,” I muttered, “I don’t think… did you still want to try and figure out next week’s…”
“Yeah, no,” said Diane, “I’ll see you around.”
She sauntered off to the locker rooms. I sighed. Maybe I should have just said yes. Diane was really hot. She was skinny and tan and had a great ass, and two years ago I probably would have just gone home with her. But now thinking about it just made me feel nervous and sad.
Luckily, Diane was my last client for the day. I felt better as I left the gym. Tonight was gonna be great. Once Mel got back from his review meeting, which he was for sure gonna ace, we were gonna hit up Leon’s bar together. It was gonna be sick. All of his hard work, dieting and working out and even having to wear women’s clothes, was gonna pay off. I was gonna make sure he hooked up with someone. I knew he didn’t have much experience with girls, but he was so funny and nice and cute! All he needed was the chance to talk to someone. That was where I came in. Be hot to be useful.
I got home, changed, and started having a couple drinks in the kitchen. I was still a little nervous, but I knew that worst case scenario, Mel and I would end up back home by ourselves. And then maybe we would cuddle and talk about how the night went. That almost sounded better than hooking up.
I blushed and took another swig of vodka. Okay, man. Chill. These kinds of thoughts had been popping up more and more recently, and they weren’t helpful. I liked Mel, a lot, and I had to admit he did look pretty good in women’s clothes. But he was a guy. A straight guy. More importantly, so was I. And even more importantly, I didn’t want to screw up the relationship we had. If I said something dumb like that and freaked him out, that meant no more late night no judgment emotional cuddle sessions. Where else was I gonna find someone who would do that? I was pretty sure Dilruk or Leon wouldn’t be into it. So whenever I started thinking about how it might be kinda nice to kiss Mel again, I pushed that thought down. And when I had accidentally seen him naked that morning, I tried really hard not to stare. I didn’t need to start fantasizing about the way he blushed, and his amazing ass, and his soft, smooth, curvy body…
The door slammed.
“Fuck me!” I heard Mel groan, and then a thump as he collapsed on the sofa. I hurried over to see what was up.
Mel told me the whole story, about clothes shopping, and the bra that didn’t fit, and bombing the employee review meeting. I felt really bad, especially because I didn’t really know how to help. I was sure the review didn’t go as bad as he said. He was such a great guy, he just wouldn’t let himself see it for some reason. I tried to tell him how he was so smart and charming and hard-working…
“…and your ass is amazing,” I blurted out.
Mel snickered, “You like my ass?”
“Oh, uh,” I stuttered. Oh shit! Why did I say that? I was just thrown off, by the way Mel looked in a bra, the way it felt to have him straddling my waist, pressed up against me. Push it down, man, “Sorry, that, that came out super weird. I meant, uh, meant like, one guy to another, like, the squats are paying off, and it’s strong. It’s, it’s a strong ass.”
“Oh my god,” Mel giggled, “You are such a dork.”
It stung for a moment, before I realized he was just teasing. He was smiling cheekily. Was he… flirting? My heart quickened. No way. I was just seeing what I wanted to see. But I liked it a lot more from Mel than I had from Diane.
I grinned, “It’s a strong ass!”
“Well, thank you,” Mel smiled, “I work hard on my ass. I just wish my chest was progressing as much. That stupid bra had, like, no support. My chest and back really ache right now.”
My eyes lit up. I could help! I was still a beginner but I couldn’t be worse at massage than I was at talking. If I was just using my hands, there was no way I could screw things up!
At least that’s what I thought. For a while the massage went really well. I could feel Mel relaxing. It felt good. I felt useful. I was providing physical comfort, as payback for all the emotional comfort he had given me. I tried not to listen to his soft moans and sighs as I caressed his back. Fuck, he sounded so… cute. So feminine. I pushed the thoughts down again. I wasn’t into Mel. He was a guy. bakırköy travesti He was my friend. This was a total breach of professional masseuse etiquette.
Things only got worse when Mel rolled over. I was kinda scared he would be weird about seeing me topless and oiled up, but he just made a joke and made everything better, like he always did. I tried to push down what I was feeling while I massaged his chest. He was still making those cute little moans, but now I could see his face as he gasped with pleasure, and it… it was hot. Fuck. It was hot! I wanted to kiss him. He must have felt the tension because he started making jokes, making me laugh, but that just made him hotter.
I tried to pull away and he grabbed my wrists.
“Don’t stop!” he gasped. Fuck! Was he… was he feeling it too? This was so far beyond a normal massage. I should just ask him. But what if he freaked out? What if he laughed at me?
I tried to play it cool, “Okay, relax! I was just gonna get some more oil, bro! You’re such a demanding little princess.”
“BEAUTIFUL princess,” he pouted, and he looked so fucking cute I couldn’t resist.
“Beautiful princess,” I said, and kissed him.
The moment our lips parted my heart stopped. What was I doing? What if I ruined everything? He had never actually given any indication he was into me like that, not really. Yeah, we cuddled, and I had kissed him once, as a joke, and we called each other cute pet names, and I… and I really wanted him to be into me…
All of that went through my head in an instant, and then Mel moaned approvingly and squeezed my wrists tighter and I felt a huge wave of relief. Relief, and… something else. I started rubbing his nipples again. I wasn’t even attempting to massage him at this point. I was just trying to turn him on.
He moaned, “Keep doing that?”
“Which part?” I asked, but he didn’t respond. I kept kissing him, and he grabbed me around the shoulders and pulled me down onto him. Our hot, oily bodies rubbed against one another. I gasped, and felt Mel reach out with his tongue. I did too, and I felt a pulse of excitement. Our first actual kiss!
And then the phone rang. Mel sprang up, leaving me breathless on the couch. Holy shit. I had a boner. I had tried to hook up with four different women in the past two years, and every time I wasn’t able to get it up. But one kiss with Mel and I was rock hard. Was I… was I gay?
No. No way. I had never been attracted to guys before. Women were definitely my thing. Mel and I were just… I dunno. We were, like… friends that cuddled and did massages and kissed, but weren’t gay. Was that a thing?
I sat up and watched Mel excitedly talking on the phone. He looked so adorably happy, smiling and laughing, flushed with pride. The review meeting went well! I knew it! I told him! I wanted to jump up and punch the air. I didn’t even care about the gay thing any more. Mel looked at me and he was glowing. Fuck, he had such a beautiful smile.
Mel finished his phone call and pointed at me warningly, “Don’t say you told me so!”
I smiled, and we talked, and cuddled, and made plans for tomorrow. Mel felt so soft and warm and relaxed as he leaned back against my chest. I wanted to kiss him again.
“Hey, bro,” I asked, nervously, “Was everything about that massage, uh, were you comfortable with that?”
“It’s okay, bro,” said Mel, “I know. It’s just jokes.”
He got up on his tiptoes and kissed me softly. My heart leapt, and I held him tightly, feeling the heat of our bodies pressed up against each. Mel let go headed to bed. I watched him walk up the hallway, his shapely ass jiggling in his panties.
Damn. I was officially super attracted to Mel. I’d have to be crazy to try and deny it. But the weird thing was, the best part about tonight hadn’t been making out with him. It had been sitting with him, comforting him when he was sad, helping him get through it, and then being there to see him smile on the other side. I wanted to keep doing that. It felt like a purpose.
And I also really wanted to make out with him again.
* * * * *
I grunted and threw down the dumbbells. Fuck! I was so fucking stupid. I had been projecting this whole time. Mel had said it, way back then, when I asked her if she was okay with the kissing. “Just jokes.”
I put the dumbbells back in the rack and wiped a hand across my eyes. I was sweating enough that I could almost convince myself I had stopped crying. My biceps hurt. I hadn’t warmed up or anything, and I knew my arms would be killing me tomorrow. Good. I deserved it.
The next time Mel had a bad day, I wouldn’t be there to help her. I wouldn’t be there to comfort her, or see her smile when everything worked out. I sobbed. I felt like a hole had been punched through my heart. Fine. Fuck my heart. It was time for cardio.
I got on a treadmill, cranked it up way too high, and started running.
* * * istanbul travestileri * *
Ashanti tilted her head, “So it’s not a gift? It’s just normal underwear? And she decided to send you instead of coming here herself? I mean, I’m not judging. Everyone’s relationship is different. Sometimes that is worthy of judgment. There’s this one guy I met who really needs to get a restraining order on his sister. Step-sister. That’s not the point. I’m just saying, it’s unusual. Why did she send you?”
“She’s lost a bunch of weight recently, but now none of her clothes fit properly,” I said, desperately trying to cover, “And… she’s really self-conscious about her body. Which is stupid, because she’s so hot. Like, really hot. But she just doesn’t see herself the way I see her.”
I wasn’t sure how much of what I was saying was part of the cover story, and how much was actually true. Okay, that’s a lie, it was pretty much dead on.
Ashanti nodded thoughtfully, looking at the list of measurements again.
“I’m really sorry if this is invasive at all,” Ashanti said, “But does your girlfriend happen to be transgender?”
I blinked, “Uh. Maybe? What does that mean?”
“Well, I guess, basically,” Ashanti paused for a second, “I guess the simplest way to explain it would be that she was born with a male body, but she identifies herself as a woman.”
Whoa. Hang on. Was Mel transgender? He had never said anything about it, but he was kind of naturally effeminate, and he seemed way more confident and happy since he started wearing girl clothes.
“Wait,” I said, “How would I know? If she identifies as a woman?”
Ashanti gave me a weird look, “I mean… she’s your girl-friend, right?”
I blushed, “Oh, yeah. Totally. I guess she is. Transgender. I mean. She was born with a male body, for sure.”
“Cool!” said Ashanti. She clapped her hands, “That’s actually SO cool. Sorry, not to exoticize your girlfriend or anything, but this is actually a really exciting opportunity for me. Wow! Okay, correct me if I’m wrong, but she doesn’t have any female clothes, does she?”
“Um,” I stuttered, “I guess, um, she has, like, some gym clothes?”
“That’s it?” Ashanti gasped, “Oh, no, we so have to get her some actual options. I know this might sound shallow, which I have been accused of, a lot, which is not really fair because this is literally my job, but I truly believe that the way you dress can really influence the way you view yourself. Don’t you think? And especially since your girlfriend is putting so much effort into getting in shape, she really deserves to be able to see the benefits, right?”
Ashanti looked at me expectantly. I mean, I guess she had a point, right? I didn’t know if Mel was actually transgender, but if he – she? nah, had to go with he unless he told me otherwise – was, then he deserved clothes that would make him feel good!
“Yeah!” I said, “You’re right!”
“Yes!” she beamed, “Oh my god! This is gonna be so fun. Again, I absolutely don’t want to objectify your girlfriend or anything, but this is, like, a really interesting challenge. I actually have done research on this, just in case any transgender people came in and needed help buying their first clothes. It would be so scary, right? So I wanted to be able to help. So! If your girlfriend is transitioning, and she’s also losing weight, then I think we should find some clothes that will help emphasize her feminine features, and will also be flattering while her body shape is changing. Does that sound right? And obviously we need stuff that she’s actually gonna like! Ugh! This is gonna be so fun!”
I grinned. Ashanti’s excitement was totally infectious.
“Yeah, this is gonna be sick,” I said, “I mean, I don’t know shit about clothes, but I’m really excited to learn.”
Ashanti started showing me around the women’s section, discussing all the different styles and the options she thought might suit Mel the best. It was actually pretty fun. She was obviously really good at her job and super invested in getting the right outcome for her customers. She put together a wardrobe the same way I put together a workout regimen. And she was really positive, and excited, and wasn’t trying to hit on me. I got swept up in her energy really quickly.
“How about lingerie?” she asked, “I know I said we were just getting practical stuff, but I actually think this is really important. I mean, everyone wants to look sexy, don’t they? And it’s such a huge self-esteem boost. What do you think about this?”
She gestured to a mannequin. It was dressed in a full set of lingerie, black, lacy, clearly designed to be torn off immediately.
Ashanti pointed out the key features, “Push up bra, actually offers a lot of support. High-waisted panties, they almost have like a girdle situation going on, so they’ll really smooth out her curves and make her ass look incredible. Thigh-high stockings, cause you said she has amazing legs. And then the gloves and the choker are just, like, sexy. Perfect, right?”
I stared at the mannequin and took a deep breath. Oh my god. I imagined Mel dressed up like that, cleavage pushed up, bending over to adjust a stocking, blushing shyly, then getting more confident, sauntering over to my bed, showing off her perfect ass, looking over her shoulder, beckoning to me to come join her…