Never Have I Ever: Had a Bromance with a Teammate

“You look like death.”

“Thanks, sweetheart.” I blew my teammate Logan a kiss.

“Not spotting your better half today?” He lay down on the weight bench and gripped the bar.

“Nah. He’s working with Coach Henderson.”

“Hmmm.” Logan lifted the bar and slowly lowered it to his chest.

I kept my eyes on his arms, my hands at the ready.

“Eight, nine, ten,” I counted as he slowed his pace. “Five more.”

He grunted, his face a mask of concentration, and lowered the bar again.

“Eleven, twelve, thirteen. Come on, dude. You’ve got this. Dig deep.”

Logan’s arms shook as he lowered the bar until it was just an inch above his chest.

“You’ve got this. One more,” I encouraged when he faltered.

With a loud groan, he shoved the bar up. I helped him hook it.

“Fuck. I think I went a little too ambitious this morning.”

“We’ll take ten off for your next set.”

He nodded and sat up. “Why’s he working with Coach H?”

“No clue.”

Logan was also a pitcher, but he was the reliever. He came in when Matt needed a break. Of course he’d wonder why he wasn’t working with Coach this morning too.

He stood and stretched out his arms. “How much do you want me to add?”

“Ten to start.”

We loaded up the bar with the extra weights.

“Spotting you isn’t exactly awesome for my self-esteem.” Logan got into place behind the bar as I lay down.

“You’re benching more than most guys your size.” I gripped the bar. “Besides, you need to protect that golden arm.”

“More like bronze arm,” he grumbled.

The team had five pitchers, but only three saw game time: Matt as the starter, Logan as the reliever, and Benson as clean-up. The other two were freshmen. They’d be great in a few years but weren’t at the level to play yet.

“You’re a sophomore. You’ll get your turn to shine soon enough.”

Logan kept quiet as I pushed the bar up and steadied it.

When I was set, I slowly lowered it, counting in my head to make sure I hit my reps the right way.

“Awesome job.” Logan helped me replace the bar.

“Thanks.” I sat up and wiped my forehead with the bottom of my shirt. Lifting made me sweat like a motherfucker.

As we took some plates off for Logan’s turn, I glanced around the weight room. My gaze collided with Chase’s, and the sneer on his face told me everything I needed to know.

Yup. The fucker was still an asshole.

“Ready?” I asked as Logan placed his hands on the bar.

He adjusted his grip and nodded.

I kept my attention on him as he lifted the bar, then started his reps.

The lower weight worked, and he finished strong.

Morning workouts were my least favorite part of being on the team. I wasn’t a morning person, never had been. I didn’t exactly have insomnia but falling asleep wasn’t easy for me. I usually stayed awake for at least an hour after going to bed, and I was a light sleeper.

The only time I got a good night’s sleep was when I was at Matt’s.

It was fucking weird. Any other time I’d shared a bed with someone, I’d been hyperaware of them and woken up constantly. Which was why I never stayed the night after hooking up. But I slept like the dead with Matt next to me. So much so, I usually ended up taking over the bed and waking his ass up a few times.

Maybe it was because I trusted him.

Whatever it was, I kinda missed it during the week when I was at my place.

The last half hour of the workout crawled by, and I was pleasantly sore and finally awake when it was time to hit the showers.

The team knew I was gay, and while most of them were fine with it, I always got some side-eye in the locker room.

What they didn’t realize was that no queer guy was going to scope out other dudes in the shower or locker room. Their fears of us watching them for jerk-off fodder didn’t happen in real life. The last thing we wanted was to pop wood around other naked dudes who didn’t have boners.

Our locker rooms had been remodeled over the summer thanks to some generous donations from team alums. The showers had individual stalls, but the walls and doors separating them only went from knee to midchest. The old showers had been completely open, so the semi-privacy was nice.

The actual locker room was in a typical U-shape, and the old lockers had been replaced with large wooden cubicles with multiple shelves for our equipment. Before, we’d marked our lockers by writing our names on a strip of athletic tape. Now we had little dry-erase boards people could write messages on. A padded bench ran in front of the cubicles, which was a nice bonus.

They’d also redone the weight and cardio rooms, as well as the room where we watched tapes and had strategy meetings. Everything was top of the line.

“All done?” Matt bumped me with his hip as I bent to put on my shoe.

“Fucker.” I grabbed the bench in front of me so I didn’t go sprawling.

His face was the picture of innocence.

I tugged my shoe on, then grabbed my bag. “Yeah. All good.”

We headed out of the locker room, shouting and waving our good-byes, and made our way out to the parking lot.

“Hungry?” he asked.

“Starved.”

Neither of us liked to eat before a workout. We had our shakes but waited to eat breakfast until we were done.

“The usual, or are you wanting something different?”

“The usual is good. Did you ever write that paper you were putting off?” I asked as we came up to his car.

“Ugh, no,” he grumbled. “I should do that this afternoon.”

“You should.”

We got into his car, and he started the engine.

“Come over when I’m done?” He pulled out of the lot. “It’s your turn to cook.”

“Did you pick up the stuff on my list?”

“Yup.”

“What’s my share?”

He waved dismissively as he headed toward one of the student lots. “Don’t worry about it. You can pay next time.”

Matt always said that, but he never let me pay. I appreciated it but felt like a giant knob for always relying on him.

“What did Coach want to work on?” I asked.

Matt launched into a detailed account of all the exercises he and Coach had worked on. I interjected answers here and there but mostly listened. He was a verbal learner and retained info better after explaining it. I spent a lot of time listening to him talk about his courses and what he worked on with the coaches, but I didn’t mind. I liked that I could help him.