In the end, it wasn’t up to Michael.

Andres’s presence had him flustered and embarrassed that first day, but Michael couldn’t stop going to the gym. He already purchased the membership and he cared too much about improving his health to stop because of him. 

Michael decided to go to the gym every other day. It would give his body some rest and he’d have more free time after doing a shorter workout at home. And, every time he went, Andres was there. 

Maybe he should have anticipated it. The guy was a fitness model on Instagram, his life revolved around the gym. So, unfortunately for Michael’s sanity, Andres became a regular sight in his life. 

They didn’t talk after that day. In fact, Michael doubted that Andres even spared him a glance most of the time. If Michael had tried hard enough, he could have forgotten that Andres was there. 

Instead, however, Michael began to study him. 

It was a complete accident. He thought it was just staring, enjoying Andres's physical appearance in person instead of through photos. But, soon enough, he began to notice patterns and habits Andres had. Suddenly, Michael was cataloging pieces of information about him.

Andres had a way he liked to workout out. On one day, he’d be doing cardio, working hard and fast until a sweat trail followed him around the gym. The next day, he’d be at any and all machines, piling on enough weight for his muscles to bulge and pulse at each repetition. 

Yet, Andres wasn’t careless. Anytime he used weight or adjusted a machine, it was put back the exact way he found it. For a man so visibly arrogant and cocky, Michael was surprised to notice he was very considerate as well. Every time he saw Andres do that, he was reminded of how the man had gone out of his way to help him up. Michael couldn’t help but hope his kindness manifested itself in more ways.

But one observation did not surprise Michael in the slightest once he saw it. Andres refused to go through a workout without removing his shirt. There was never a moment that Michael saw him without his large pecs and toned stomach on display for everyone in the gym.

It was that factor that made Michael a bit guilty every time he stared. It wasn’t his place to look but he continued to do so, gawking at the body and face of such an attractive man. So, Michael would try to get back to his own workout and distract himself from Andres’ presence.

This day was like most others. Andres was in another part of the gym working on cardio while Michael tried to follow a new workout routine online. The trainer was leading Michael to do some jumping lunges and Michael tried to follow her as best as he could. 

Michael was beginning to get the uncomfortable yet familiar feeling of his breath shortening and his muscles starting to burn. Although he had made the choice to start going to the gym regularly, he still felt awkward about it. His body felt odd doing such rigorous activity and working itself so hard.

Now, Michael was on his second rep. His feet landed on the ground again when he heard a voice.

“I don’t think you want to be doing lunges like that.”

Michael stood up, startled by the interruption. Andres didn’t even blink at the taller man’s reaction, his permanent smile still in place. Michael couldn’t help himself and started to trail his eyes up and down, taking in the other man’s appearance. He was shirtless, of course, dark blue shorts even darker at the top from sweat he hadn’t been able to catch with a towel. In fact, his skin was currently beaded with sweat, the droplets taking their sweet time in moving down Andres’ body. His sweat-soaked hair was clumping together and falling over the right side of his face.

Michael’s puffy curls, in contrast, were tied back in a small ponytail instead of his usual loose afro. As Andres stepped closer to Michael, he became self-conscious of his old t-shirt and shorts. He hated how insecure he got around Andres. It made him think a thousand times more about everything he did.

Michael thought back on Andres’ initial statement. I don’t think you want to be doing lunges like that. For a moment, he was able to not think about who said the words but simply what was said. Michael felt like himself again when his face twisted up to show his distaste.

“Why not?” 

Michael watched as he finally got his first real reaction from Andres. The shorter man was taken aback by Michael’s hostile attitude. Michael had been thrown off his game because he was attracted to this guy and it made him more timid and shy. But, at the end of the day, Michael was known to be a very sassy and truly rude person. He could not be bothered to deal with other people’s nonsense. So, if this fitness “expert” wanted to come up here and claim to know better than Michael, he better be ready to back up his claims.

“You can’t just trust my professional opinion?” Andres asked, a confused frown on his chiseled face. Michael scoffed loudly, chuckling to himself.

“No. I don’t really have much reason to trust you.” Michael told him, his arms crossed and a challenging gleam in his eyes. Andres accepted the challenge. Andres said his next words with an overconfident smirk.

“Alright. If you keep doing your lunges like that, you’ll break your knees.”

Michael’s expression morphed into one of shock and he jumped away from his mat with a fearful hop. Then, Andres began to laugh. 

Michael was so pissed off that Andres had fooled him. The first chance he gets the guy is already trying to make a fool out of him. He fixed a dark glare on Andres, waiting for him to stop.

“Okay, okay. I was joking.” He admitted with a mirth-filled sigh. He took in the murderous look Michael was sending his way and tried to quickly do some damage control. “But it can lead to weaker knees in the future.”

Michael’s expression didn’t change and Andres realized he wouldn’t be getting a smile out of the other guy so soon.

“Okay, go into your lunge again.” 

Michael, still upset about Andres tricking him, didn’t move an inch. Andres let out a frustrated sigh and sent Michael a pleading expression.

“Please. I promise this will help.” He begged, dark eyes open wide in a plea. Michael felt his resolve weaken. While he didn’t actually like Andres for anything other than appearance, what he did like about him made him a bit weak against him. So, Michael complied. It felt extremely awkward to get into the position with Andres standing right there, but he did it anyway.

Michael stared at the wall beside them as he waited for Andres to speak.

“Move your front foot further up so your knee is behind your toes.” He told him, pointing at Michael’s right foot. Andres continued to stare at his form after Michael followed his instruction.

“Now, square your hips.” 

Michael froze, his mind giving him nothing as a response to those words. What the hell does squaring your hips mean? What do square hips even look like? After several beats passed and Michael still hadn’t moved, Andres sighed. 

“I mean, turn your hips so they face the front,” Andres explained, his expression becoming pinched with frustration. Michael’s face scrunched up in confusion. He didn’t understand that either. He tried to follow what Andres said but every time he tried, the move went from a lunge to a very twisted yoga imitation. “No, you don’t have to go that far. Wait-no.”

Michael continued to struggle and Andres watched on with clenched fists. Holding the bridge of his nose with two fingers, he whispered a quiet “fuck it.”

“Can I just show you?” 

Michael agreed immediately. He was tired of looking like a damn fool in front of this guy and he assumed that Andres doing it correctly would clear up all the confusion. Michael stayed in his lunge, waiting for Andres to do the same move next to him. To his surprise, however, Andres just got closer.

Standing in front of Michael, Andres bent forward at the waist and held on to the other man’s hips. Michael watched with bated breath as Andres’ grip tightened and he turned the positioning of Michael’s hips so they were parallel, squaring them.

Michael barely paid attention to what Andres was actually doing. He could see Andres’ warm, bronzed skin up close, the salty scent of his sweat wafting up to Michael’s nose with every inhale. Their faces were inches apart and Michael intensely stared at the other man’s dark brown lips. 

“Just like . . . this,” Andres muttered softly, his breath, sweetened by protein bars, falling onto Michael’s chest, warming the skin. Then, Andres looked up. His smoldering dark eyes met Michael’s, hitting the taller man with their intensity. Andres smiled. “See?”

Michael didn’t even try to speak. There was no point. He knew he would just become a blubbering mess if he tried. Michael nodded. Andres, however, continued to hold his gaze, narrowing his eyes at Michael. Michael tried to keep his composure—he really did—but soon he felt his chest rise and fall as his breaths sped up. The longer Andres stared at him, hands still resting on his hips, the harder it was for Michael to keep his calm. 

Suddenly, Andres’ expression shifted, a smirk growing on his lips. 

“Am I getting you bothered?” He asked, leaning in even further. Michael’s eyes went wide, his ‘deer caught in the headlights’ expression immediately giving him away. At the best possible moment, Michael’s legs reminded him that he was still in a lunge.

“What? No, of course not.” Michael said, trying to dismiss Andres’ correct assumption. Andres’ cheeky grin was starting to annoy Michael, and the lunge was beginning to feel very uncomfortable for multiple reasons. “Just, get off me. My legs are getting sore.”

Instead of immediately stepping back, Andres continued to stare at Michael’s face intently, as if he had something he wanted to say. Using force was beginning to become an actual option when Andres finally stepped back. With a groan, Michael got himself back into a standing position. He was moving stiffly due to pain in his thighs. He really had held that lunge for too long. 

After rubbing at his legs for a while, Michael stood up. He’d expected Andres to be long gone but was unpleasantly surprised to find the handsome man still standing in front of him. Michael didn’t even need to ask why Andres was still here. The talkative ass started making his speech before Michael could.

“I feel like after what just happened, we can’t really be strangers anymore.” He began confidently, hands in his pockets, emphasizing the width of his soldiers. “So, hey, my name’s Andres.”

Should I just not tell him my name?

The thought was very tempting to Michael. But he didn’t want to be rude. Although he still felt incredibly exposed from Andres figuring him out, Michael told him. 

“I’m Michael.”

Andres's face split into a wide smile, genuinely pleased. Michael openly stared, surprised by the innocence of it. 

“Nice to meet you,” Andres told him, his smile still remaining. Michael waited for him to say more, maybe for them to exchange numbers, but Andres started walking away. “Call me if you need any help.”

Michael watched the Latino man leave silently, only whispering “bye” once he was too far to hear it. As he watched him leave, Michael promised himself that he would never need Andres's help again. It was far too embarrassing and disconcerting for Michael to go through again. 

Michael turned back to his phone which had turned off on its own with a sigh. He feared how terrible this workout was going to be now that his legs were already tired. 

“So help me, Lord.” He whispered softly under his breath, beginning again. Several minutes later, Michael was back to the lunges and replicated what Andres told him. He was far more balanced, but also in more pain since his muscles were being worked properly. 

His leg workout video finished, but Michael did not give himself a break before going to the same trainer’s arm workout video.

“Okay. great job guys!” She yelled, her cheery voice contrasting sharply with Michael’s exhausted state. “We’re now going to move to the floor and get ready to work our triceps! Rep one, let’s go!”

Michael wanted to go—his triceps were quite weak and flabby so they definitely needed the help—but he didn’t know how. While his trainer was balancing on her hands and feet with her stomach towards the ceiling, elbows bending to a perfect 90-degree angle, Michael could only figure out how to move his chest awkwardly. 

“How in the world?” He said to himself, brows deeply furrowed as he looked at his phone screen. Michael tried to do it a couple more times, but he couldn’t feel anything happening in his triceps. 

Pausing the video, Michael mentally debated himself. On one hand, he was clearly struggling and there was little chance he would be able to figure it out on his own. He found this trainer’s workouts to do wonders and knew this exercise would help. But he would be so embarrassed if he did it. Remembering that heated embarrassment that rested in his chest, Michael went to play his video and skip past the move. But something stopped him. 

It could have been his resolve, forcing him to stick to his promise to improve his life. Or, it was simply his pride wanting to not admit how much he cared about Andres' perception of him. Michael was a grown adult and shouldn’t still be hung up on superficial things like looks and muscles. 

Either way, Michael stood up and moved further into the center of the gym. He was searching for someone and clenched his jaw when he found him. Andres, as one would expect, was bench pressing. All of the muscles on his chest and arms pulsed with the strain of lifting the weight, veins pushing against his skin. Andres’ face was tense as well, full brown lips curled in as he huffed once, twice, with each lift. 

It really was nice to see such eye candy in person. Andres was the type of man one rarely expected to date. Most people just looked at him or befriended him and enjoyed that experience. Few would even consider putting themselves out there and attempting to be with him. 

And Michael, of all people, is not one of the few.

He wondered how he should announce his presence. His first instinct was to tap Andres on the shoulder but feared the surprise would cause an injury to either Andres or him. Michael settled on clearing his throat. 

Andres didn’t even jump. Without looking, he calmly placed the bar back and sat up. Michael wasn’t sure what to make of Andres’ reaction to seeing that it was him. Andres raised a single brow, a soft smile growing on his lips. Chuckling, Andres slowly stood up from the bench.

“Back so soon?”

Okay, he felt insulted. It took a lot for Michael to swallow his pride. He had to use every strand of maturity and patience he had accumulated in his twenty-seven years of life to not shoot a snappy retort Andres’ way. Instead, as a mature person, Michael proceeded to ask for help.

“I need your help again.”