PART 2
"Please, tell me it's not him..."
But of course it is.
Jordan walks in, smiling calmly. His sleeveless shirt, pregnated with sweat, sticks to his torso, somehow making the muscles even more glaring.
"Fraser, you are staring at him like an idiot!"
But Jordan has noticed. He is getting near Fraser, very near, and their eyes meet, he smiles amusedly. Making sure not to smile back, Fraser coldly observes him.
Jordan, however, seems not deterred. -What's up, buddy?- He keeps smiling.
-Don't call me like that.- Fraser spits out drily.
-Oh, come on man.- Jordan jiggles. -Is that because I lifted more than you?-
-Oh my God, just shut up.- Fraser answers, while he's about to turn his back to him. "Why can't I help staring at his arms?"
-... or it is something else?-.
Suddenly, Fraser feels an icy shiver tingling across his spine. That tone... it didn't feel just polite, or friendly. It was intrigued. Amused.
"He knows..." Fraser thinks, suddenly in panick.
-But there's NOTHING to know!- He shouts, now firmly convinced to go away. He'll have a shower at home.
-Who said it was?-
"Fuck."
In that moment, Jordan gets closer, much closer. Fraser can now feel his masculine, earthy smell, he can notice the small gleaming droplets of sweat on his neck, and something starts twisting inside his stomach. And also somewhere else.
-Ok, dude...- Jordan starts. -Fraser, right? Let me say that those circuits for the abdominals you do are great. I know, off context, but still...-
-What do you want?- Fraser hisses, abruptly interrupting him.
Jordan changes the position of his head slightly, like a bird of prey staring at his victim. He grims back. -What do YOU want?-