Tamed by the Gym Himbo

“Damn, brah! You’re getting jacked!”

“Thanks, dude!”

I sit behind the front desk at the gym, watching the muscle-bound fitness jocks taking selfies for social media. It’s only my second week on the job, and it’s impossible to overstate how awkward I feel. I sent out dozens of job applications and jumped on the first offer I got. That means I now work the front desk at the local gym, despite having zero exercise experience.

In fact, I’m the polar opposite of the guys here. I’m thin, pale, and a bit shy. My ideal afternoon is sitting alone in the dark playing video games, not lifting weights and taking shirtless gym photos.

Still though, I’ve gotta admire how hard these guys work. They have a level of dedication that causes me to stare in awe. They’ve devoted themselves to attaining physical perfection—or focusing on “aesthetics” as they call it. I’m sure girls throw themselves at these guys…I wonder what that’d be like.

“Hey, Ben.” My manager steps in behind me. “Go wipe down the equipment. I’ll take care of things here.”

“Alright.” I sigh and close my textbook.

I’ve been working on homework whenever business here is slow. I’m in the second year of my math degree at the local university. I was fortunate to land an academic merit scholarship right after high school graduation, so my tuition is all paid for. Unlike most of the guys on campus, I tend to focus on academics rather than socializing. That’s something I want to change though. I’d like to eventually get a girlfriend. Hell, I’d just like to lose my virginity. I’ve still never had sex, and it’s a bit embarrassing.

I rise and grab a towel and a bottle of disinfectant. The sound of clanging metal and strained grunting echoes around me as I walk out onto the gym floor. Cleaning the equipment is by far my least favorite part of this job. The prospect of mopping up jock sweat definitely isn’t something that appeals to me.

But I set to work, trying to get it over with quickly.

“Hey, man! Can you spot me?” A deep, gruff voice rings out behind me.

I whirl around to see a beefy college-aged guy getting ready to do bench press reps. He lies on the bench, staring at me with a pair of vibrant blue eyes set beneath a nest of messy black hair. The locks are long and straight, hanging down over his forehead and resting atop his bushy eyebrows. He wears a white tank top that’s soaked through with sweat, making it cling to his massive frame.

As he grips the barbell, his dark, hairy armpits glisten with perspiration, drawing my eyes toward his powerful shoulders. The muscles are large and rounded, branching out into intensely defined biceps. I stare for a moment, dumbfounded as my eyes travel toward his full, powerful pecs. They sit atop his chest like rolling hills, sloping down to the deep ravines of his abs visible through his wet tank top. His back arches forward off the bench slightly, highlighting the intense taper of his broad shoulders down to his narrow waist.

I’ve never seen anyone with proportions like these before. He’s like a statue of a Greek god, hewn from marble as a monument to masculine perfection.

But he’s real.

“U-um…alright.” I set my cleaning supplies down and move in, resting my hands on the barbell.

Spotting someone at the gym means standing by to ensure they don’t hurt themselves. If they accidentally drop the weight, you can catch it and protect them from injuries.

But with how small I am, I doubt I’ll be very helpful to this guy. Why didn’t he ask one of the gym guys working out nearby?

“Yo! Thanks, bro!” He stares up at me while I hover over him. “I’m Tyler, but you can call me Ty! What’s your name?”

“I’m Ben.” I break eye contact, awkwardly glancing away from his glittering stare.

“Sick, dude! I’ve seen you working here, and I wanted to get to know you!”

“Wait, what?!”

“You seem like a cool guy! I think we’d get along!” He grins up at me, his pearly teeth shining in the fluorescent light.

“Um…thanks, I guess.” I feel my cheeks flush.

Who just says something like that to a stranger? He doesn’t know anything about me—how could he possibly think we’d hit it off? Something feels off about this guy.

He pushes against the bar and begins lifting. I stare down at the exposed portion of his upper chest as he works out, watching the visible sinews tighten and contract beneath his skin. It’s like witnessing two slabs of solid steel coming to life. Up and down he lifts, causing them to contract and relax. Over and over again the process repeats, and I find myself unable to look away. His pale skin has a radiant glow that pulls me in, forcing me to focus on his magnificent body.

I feel my eyes begin to glaze over as I stare. It’s like I’m falling into a strange sort of trance.

What is this feeling?

“You like my pecs, bro?” Ty’s voice jolts me from my dreamlike state.

“O-oh! Um…sure.” I glance away, feeling my rosy cheeks darken even further.

“It’s ok to stare. I understand.” His grin widens while he continues lifting.

With timid hesitation, I move my eyes back onto his chest, watching as his muscles continue their captivating dance. The world seems to slip away as I stand here. It feels like we’re the only two people in the gym. As I listen to the deep, labored sound of his breathing, I come to a frightening realization.

My dick is hard.

What the fuck? Why would I be getting hard right now?

“Dude…is that a boner?!” Ty stares up as a little tent begins materializing in my pants, directly above his face.

“N-no!” My face is absolutely on fire now.

“It’s alright if you’re a queer. I don’t mind.” He looks set to burst into laughter.

“No! I’m not into that shit! I promise!”