In August he texted me and said he was coming to Chicago for a few days prior to his flight to Europe and suggested we meet up, but my work schedule overlapped with his few days.
Neither of us wanted to miss the opportunity to spend time together, so after some back and forth we settled on meeting up at the gym as it was the only option to see another based upon our schedules. We’d have time to grab a quick lunch after.
At 11:00 we met at the gym check in desk, then proceeded downstairs to the locker room. The Prince went to the same locker bay where we’d met and there we changed clothes, this time not so coy about having a look at one another but not so overt that we’d garner attention from the others.
As we navigated the stairs back up to the gym floor, The Prince was one step behind me, literally, using his proximity as means to touch the hair on my inner thigh as I raised each leg, step by step.
Gym time with a buddy is different than gym time alone. I’m usually off in my own world with my playlist and my routine. Fifteen minutes of cardio, then on to legs, shoulders, core, chest, then arms. I wouldn’t be able to get everything in, but with The Prince there with me, I didn’t mind so much. Yes, I liked going to work after the gym feeling ‘jacked’ but I could do that on my own. This – the attention from a handsome man….well, this is something special.
We followed one another around, watching, encouraging, and catching up on general in-person conversation that had only been text based since our first encounter here. Arms. Shoulders. Chest.
At the bench The Prince positioned himself to spot me when he made sure to adjust himself a few times so that I was given the opportunity to look up his shorts and catch a glimpse of cock. He did this, first, by standing behind my head, then moving his crotch directly over my face as though he were attempting to find the right balance. Then he squatted a few times so that the fabric of his gym shorts fell onto my face. The red nylon fabric brushed against my nose, then my brow. This act was slightly overt but not entirely out of bounds for two guys working out together. A good spotter is one who anticipates the worst.
We traded positions. I wasn’t as obvious about it as he was though I still played along. Now The Prince was adjusting his position on the bench so as to look up at me. I loved seeing his grin – but also needed to make sure he was safe under the weights.
After an hour on the floor it was back down the locker room where we undressed side by side and retraced the steps of our first encounter, making our way to the steam room. We were alone in the room and The Prince sat right next to me, unfolding his towel so as to expose himself. Again, slightly overt, but not out of the question in the men’s steam room. His hands roamed my inner thigh, then up my torso, lingering on my belly, then making their way up to my nipples. We kissed. And I liked the taste of his salty lips.
I always shave at the gym. It’s the best shave, especially after a steam – nice and close. After my shower I ventured to the sinks, took off my towel, unpacked my dopp kit, and lathered up. And rather than baste in a damp towel, I always shake naked at the sinks so as to air dry before I get dressed.
The Prince undid his towel as well and stood next to me, back to the mirror and twisting to face me, where we carried on with our conversation – this time over where we might grab lunch.
“Are you sure you don’t mind me watching you shave, dad?” He emphasized the word ‘dad’ with a mischievous grin.
“I don’t mind at all.” Of course I didn’t.
Oddly enough, or perhaps not, whenever I shave naked at the gym sinks, another guy inevitably finds a reason to take the sink next to me. One can attribute this to the general horniness of men after a work out, or perhaps that most every species finds grooming a calming, social activity.
We settled on lunch at a little place with outdoor tables in the Gold Coast. We talked about some of our friends, some of the things we do when we’re just having an average week, hinted at some of our personal dilemmas, scratching the surface of conversations we might have in the future. Bits and pieces, fragments – that at this table could be explored without the need of any depth, but still interesting, that could be brought back up to the surface should we meet again.
He told me about his boyfriend, with whom he didn’t live but had been together with for a number of years. “It’s complicated”, he said. “We’re in our ‘therapy’ phase”, he told me. The Prince told me of all the restrictions the boyfriend has placed on spending time together. Only certain days of the week. Only with a week’s advanced notice. Except for travel, when they’d do everything together. “It’s like I’m his travel campaign that is there to be his trophy boyfriend – but only while we’re around his travel buddies”.
He went on to tell me that he’d traveled back and forth from Cleveland where he was working at the time to date this guy in New York, and that it was his decision to move to be with him. He was working at the Cleveland clinic, there with his twin brother. They’d both gone to college at Purdue in Indiana, both had lived in suburban Chicago together, then in Cleveland together, and now in New York together.
“When were you in New York last?” he asked.
“I’d flown out to hear a talk by a filmmaker”, I told him. “Mike Nichols. He is, was Diane Sawyer’s husband. He died shortly after I’d gone to hear him speak. It was within the past ten years, but I can’t quite place the date.”. In fact, I have very little recollection of the trip outside of that night at the theater. I didn’t recall where I’d stayed or for how long.
“You should come back for a visit,” to which I agreed was a good idea. “It has changed a lot”.
I glanced at my watch and then hurriedly excused myself. “I’ve got to get a train to work”, I told The Prince. “I’m sorry, I would love to spend the rest of the afternoon, but I have to run”.
We stood, hugged one another then gave one another a little peck on the lips. “I’m serious,” he said, “You should come to New York for a visit”.
The 36 Broadway 
Leave a comment