Posted Sat Jul 18, 2015 | 192 Words | Tagged story

The one good thing about my room-mate is that he is a gym freak. Literally I never see him because he’s always out till late, doing whatever he does. I don’t ever see him with friends or anything and he seems to spend at least every evening there as I’m busy with classes.

I had fell asleep listening to my iPod when he must have stumbled in. I woke up my the difference in music, this wasn’t my usual classical… it was more upbeat and more workout.

Workout. Gym. I looked up to see my room-mate grinning, happy with whatever he did. I kept listening and he peeled off his sweaty tank top and threw it over to me, then his boxers and his joggers.

In a trance I put each item on, and I think I must have looked silly but no this felt right. I felt my muscles ache and ache and ache.

Then my flatmate re-appeared with a bottle and just poured in something into my mouth.

Fuck that dream last night was intense man. Time to get up and go to the gym and… errr lift weights huhuh.