The BL Nook

It’s been two months since I moved to Seattle, and somehow I’ve been busy and lazy at the same time. Unpacking? Still in progress. Cooking for myself? Barely. I’ve been living off takeout like it’s a food group. Every fast food joint in a five-mile radius has probably memorized my usual orders.

Today’s Friday, and work is blissfully light. I decided to use the downtime to plan my meals for next week, maybe even start meal prepping again. I need to get my life together. I used to care about my body, dammit. Now I feel like a human garbage disposal.

“Ugh, I feel disgusting.”

I’ve always taken pride in my physique. Lean muscles, clean lines, and definition in all the right places. Not too bulky, not too slim. Just… cut. I’ve had abs since puberty and killer biceps to match. My legs and glutes? Chef’s kiss. My best features. I worked hard for that squat rack glory.

People have always said I was attractive, maybe it’s my tousled blonde hair or how my blue eyes pop against my pale skin. If I’m being honest, the only thing I don’t love about myself is how milky white I am. I’ve got the smooth, hairless complexion of a Greek statue. Not exactly rugged. I’ve wondered what I’d look like with a tan… Maybe a golden glow would complete the package?

Growing up, people often said I was better looking than Tyler. Maybe that’s why he couldn’t stand me.

Whatever. Speaking of that jerk… I should text him. 

Sean: <Hey brooooo, do you know of any good gyms around here?>
Sean: <I think you jinxed me, I need to get back to the grind 🙁>
Sean: <Or does your fat ass not work out at a gym anymore? lol>

Tyler: <…>

Ring, Ring, Ring

“Ahh! What the… Ugh, why is he calling instead of texting?”

“Hello?”

Tyler: “You’re the fat ass, literally!”

“Haha, okay okay. So do you know of any decent gyms?”

Tyler: “One of my buddies lives near you. He knows all the local spots. I’ll ask him and send you the info.”

“Well, thank you, kind sir. Your assistance is deeply appreciated.”

Tyler: “Shut up. I guess yo-”

“Wait a sec. Why does your friend know all the gyms around here?”

Tyler: “Haaa, well… long story short, he hooks up with girls at gym and then switches locations to avoid them afterward.”

“Wow. Classy. Sounds like a real gentleman.”

Tyler: “He’s actually a really good guy. One of the best people I know. He’s technically, my best friend.”

“Oh, so this gym-hopping manwhore is your BFF?”

Tyler: “He’s a good guy! Anyway, I gotta go. I’ll text you later.”

“TEXT. Not call.”

Tyler: “Whatever, Michelin Man.”

Click.

“Haha… asshole.”

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Next morning

Tyler’s picking me up, and I’m still in bed, hiding my face in a pillow. I don’t wanna go. It’s cold, rainy, and I haven’t touched a barbell in months. But I’m also curious to meet this so-called amazing gym fuckboy.

Ding 

Tyler: <I’m outside>

I sighed dramatically, dragged myself out of bed, and shuffled to the car. I slid into the backseat.

“What the hell? Why are you sitting back there?”

“I thought you were my chauffeur today.”

“The hell I am!”

Honestly, I sat back there to mess with him and because I’m grumpy. He dragged me out of bed, and now I have to socialize? At a gym?

Tyler’s always been the golden boy. Smart, charming, successful. Our dad adored him. From the way he dresses to the kind of car he drives, it’s clear he’s doing well. I still have no idea what his job is, just that it pays stupid well.

“Is this gym far? Couldn’t we walk?”

“It’s a 15-minute drive. But if you’d rather walk in the rain, be my guest.”

“Pass. I keep forgetting to buy an umbrella.”

“Only tourists use umbrellas here. You’ll out yourself instantly.”

The rest of the drive passed quietly. Rain tapped against the windows while I leaned my head back and closed my eyes. I was tired. Or maybe just dreading meeting people before noon.

“We’re here.”

The gym looked like something out of a fitness influencer’s Instagram: sleek equipment, spotless floors, and way too many mirrors. Tyler led the way toward the workout area, his ears slightly red. Huh.

Then I heard it.

“What’s up, man! I finally get to see you!”

I glanced over and froze.

He was gorgeous. Like, drop-dead, muscle-mag cover gorgeous.

Tall, maybe 6’2” or 6’3” with a lean, athletic build that made his tight t-shirt look like a second skin. His chest was broad, pecs defined and straining slightly against the fabric. His arms were jacked, veins snaking down thick biceps and his shoulders had that perfect, rounded cap you only get from endless dumbbell presses. His waist tapered in sharply, and even through the shirt, I could see the ridges of his abs.

Then there was his face.

Big brown eyes, framed by ridiculously long lashes. A strong jawline, carved and clean. His skin was a warm, smooth light brown that glowed under the gym lighting. His lips were plush, and when he smiled, they stretched just enough to reveal a full row of perfect, white teeth.

He was… pretty. Prettier than me, and I don’t say that lightly.

He slapped hands with Tyler and pulled him in for a bro-hug, then turned to me smiling like the sun just rose behind him.

He walked straight up and leaned in way too close.

“You must be Sean,” he grinned.

His voice was warm, playful and he smelled amazing. Familiar, even. Wait… was that the same deodorant I use?

“I’m Josh.”

I took a step back and awkwardly shook his hand. Firm grip. Warm palm. Definitely someone who deadlifts without gloves.

“I finally get to meet you. Tyler talks about you all the time.”

I shot Tyler a look. He was rubbing the back of his neck, awkwardly.

“You talk about me with your friends?” I teased, smirking.

Before Tyler could fire back, Josh stepped in again.

“You guys don’t look alike. You’re the good-looking one.”

He said it casually, but his eyes were locked on mine.

Then he chuckled and turned to Tyler. 

“Why don’t you shut your whore mouth and show us around?” Tyler muttered.

“Geez, alright! Come on, follow me.”

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