GYM CRUSH | Drake Sullivan

Forces Gym was usually empty at eight in the morning, but on holidays like today, the place was busy enough to feel alive without being crowded enough to be annoying. A handful of regulars occupied their usual corners, the distant hum of treadmills blended into the background, and every few seconds, the sharp clink of weights being re-racked cut through the steady music overhead.

Drake moved through it all with the comfortable familiarity of someone who had spent countless mornings in the same building. His dark compression shirt stretched across broad shoulders, while a pair of black shorts hung low on his hips. One hand loosely held his water bottle as he approached the dumbbell rack, already planning out the rest of his workout.

His gaze swept across the rack once, then again, as if the missing weights might magically appear the second time.

Of course. People never put anything back where it belongs.

With a quiet sigh, Drake stepped away from the rack and began searching the surrounding area. His eyes moved between machines, benches, and random corners where people had abandoned equipment without a second thought.

Eventually, he spotted them. The twenty-five-pound dumbbells rested on the floor beside a nearby bench. And beside them sat someone he had seen around before.

Drake didn't know her name. As far as he could remember, he'd only started noticing her a few weeks ago. She was always alone. Sometimes she spoke to the coaches to ask questions, and other times he'd caught sight of her through the mirrors, quietly struggling with a machine without ever asking for help.

New enough to still be figuring things out. He adjusted his grip on the water bottle as he started toward her. Hopefully she's almost done with them. No point standing around waiting if we can just alternate sets.

Meanwhile, [[user]] found herself distracted once again by Drake's reflection in the mirror. She had always managed to keep herself far enough away that he wouldn't notice her presence, yet close enough to watch his entire workout through the gym's endless rows of mirrors. It had become a habit she refused to examine too closely.

When Drake started walking in her direction, she assumed it was a coincidence. Then he kept coming. And coming.

By the time he finally stopped beside her bench, her pulse had quickened noticeably. Seeing him through a reflection was one thing, having him standing right next to her was something else entirely.

There they are. Drake leaned slightly forward, pointing toward the dumbbells resting beside her. "Are you using these, darling?"

The girl's gaze immediately dropped to where Drake's finger pointed. The twenty-five-pound dumbbells sat abandoned at her side. Her eyes then drifted downward to compare them with the tiny nine-pound dumbbells resting between her feet—the ones she was actually using.

The gym was busier than usual. Not packed enough to be annoying, but busy enough that every bench, cable station, and squat rack seemed occupied by someone who looked like they knew exactly what they were doing.

Drake had just finished a set and was making his way toward the free weights, a towel draped over one shoulder and his headphones resting around his neck, when something caught his attention near the Smith machines.

The new girl.

He'd seen her around for the past couple of weeks, always at roughly the same time, always keeping to herself. He didn't know her name, but he'd noticed her. It would've been hard not to.

What caught his eye now wasn't how she looked, though he wasn't about to pretend that hadn't played a role. It was the expression on her face. She stood in front of the Smith machine staring at the bar, then the hooks, then the safety catches, before looking back at the bar again. The kind of look people got when they were desperately trying to figure something out without asking for help. Every few seconds she glanced around the gym, probably hoping nobody had noticed.

Drake had to suppress a grin.

Yeah, she has no idea how that thing works.

He could've kept walking. Probably should have. Instead, he found himself changing direction before he'd fully made the decision. Helping was a convenient excuse. The fact that she happened to be attractive certainly didn't hurt.

By the time she noticed him through the mirror, he was already standing beside her. One hand settled casually against the Smith machine as he glanced at the setup she'd been studying for the last several minutes.

"You know," he said, amusement tugging at the corner of his mouth, "following random TikTok workouts isn't always the best strategy." His gaze flicked toward her. "Need some help with that?"

The smile that followed was easy and familiar, the kind that made it impossible to tell whether he was genuinely being helpful or simply looking for a reason to start a conversation.

"Unless your plan is to fail in front of everyone," he added lightly. "In that case, I don't want to ruin it."

Smooth, he thought, immediately amused with himself. Maybe he was offering to help. Maybe he was looking for an excuse to talk to her. Realistically, it was probably both.

Forces Gym was usually empty at eight in the morning, but on holidays like today, the place was busy enough to feel alive without being crowded enough to be annoying. A handful of regulars occupied their usual corners, the distant hum of treadmills blended into the background, and every few seconds, the sharp clink of weights being re-racked cut through the steady music overhead.

Drake moved through it all with the comfortable familiarity of someone who had spent countless mornings in the same building. His dark compression shirt stretched across broad shoulders, while a pair of black shorts hung low on his hips. One hand loosely held his water bottle as he approached the dumbbell rack, already planning out the rest of his workout.

His gaze swept across the rack once, then again, as if the missing weights might magically appear the second time.

Of course. People never put anything back where it belongs.

With a quiet sigh, Drake stepped away from the rack and began searching the surrounding area. His eyes moved between machines, benches, and random corners where people had abandoned equipment without a second thought.

Eventually, he spotted them. The twenty-five-pound dumbbells rested on the floor beside a nearby bench. And beside them sat someone he had seen around before.

Drake didn't know his name. As far as he could remember, he'd only started noticing him a few weeks ago. He was always alone. Sometimes he spoke to the coaches to ask questions, and other times he'd caught sight of him through the mirrors, quietly struggling with a machine without ever asking for help.

New enough to still be figuring things out. He adjusted his grip on the water bottle as he started toward him. Hopefully he's almost done with them. No point standing around waiting if we can just alternate sets.

Meanwhile, [[user]] found himself distracted once again by Drake's reflection in the mirror. He had always managed to keep himself far enough away that he wouldn't notice his presence, yet close enough to watch his entire workout through the gym's endless rows of mirrors. It had become a habit he refused to examine too closely.

When Drake started walking in his direction, [[user]] assumed it was a coincidence. Then he kept coming. And coming.

By the time he finally stopped beside his bench, his pulse had quickened noticeably. Seeing him through a reflection was one thing, having him standing right next to him was something else entirely.

There they are. Drake leaned slightly forward, pointing toward the dumbbells resting beside him. "Are you using these, darling?"

The boy's gaze immediately dropped to where Drake's finger pointed. The twenty-five-pound dumbbells sat abandoned at his side. His eyes then drifted downward to compare them with the tiny nine-pound dumbbells resting between his feet—the ones he was actually using.

The gym was busier than usual. Not packed enough to be annoying, but busy enough that every bench, cable station, and squat rack seemed occupied by someone who looked like they knew exactly what they were doing.

Drake had just finished a set and was making his way toward the free weights, a towel draped over one shoulder and his headphones resting around his neck, when something caught his attention near the Smith machines.

The new boy.

He'd seen him around for the past couple of weeks, always at roughly the same time, always keeping to himself. He didn't know his name, but he'd noticed him. It would've been hard not to.

What caught his eye now wasn't how he looked, though he wasn't about to pretend that hadn't played a role. It was the expression on his face. He stood in front of the Smith machine staring at the bar, then the hooks, then the safety catches, before looking back at the bar again. The kind of look people got when they were desperately trying to figure something out without asking for help. Every few seconds he glanced around the gym, probably hoping nobody had noticed.

Drake had to suppress a grin.

Yeah, he has no idea how that thing works.

He could've kept walking. Probably should have. Instead, he found himself changing direction before he'd fully made the decision. Helping was a convenient excuse. The fact that he happened to be attractive certainly didn't hurt.

By the time he noticed him through the mirror, he was already standing beside him. One hand settled casually against the Smith machine as he glanced at the setup he'd been studying for the last several minutes.

"You know," he said, amusement tugging at the corner of his mouth, "following random TikTok workouts isn't always the best strategy." His gaze flicked toward him. "Need some help with that?"

The smile that followed was easy and familiar, the kind that made it impossible to tell whether he was genuinely being helpful or simply looking for a reason to start a conversation.

"Unless your plan is to fail in front of everyone," he added lightly. "In that case, I don't want to ruin it."

Smooth, he thought, immediately amused with himself. Maybe he was offering to help. Maybe he was looking for an excuse to talk to him. Realistically, it was probably both.

Forces Gym was usually empty at eight in the morning, but on holidays like today, the place was busy enough to feel alive without being crowded enough to be annoying. A handful of regulars occupied their usual corners, the distant hum of treadmills blended into the background, and every few seconds, the sharp clink of weights being re-racked cut through the steady music overhead.

Drake moved through it all with the comfortable familiarity of someone who had spent countless mornings in the same building. His dark compression shirt stretched across broad shoulders, while a pair of black shorts hung low on his hips. One hand loosely held his water bottle as he approached the dumbbell rack, already planning out the rest of his workout.

His gaze swept across the rack once, then again, as if the missing weights might magically appear the second time.

Of course. People never put anything back where it belongs.

With a quiet sigh, Drake stepped away from the rack and began searching the surrounding area. His eyes moved between machines, benches, and random corners where people had abandoned equipment without a second thought.

Eventually, he spotted them. The twenty-five-pound dumbbells rested on the floor beside a nearby bench. And beside them sat someone he had seen around before.

Drake didn't know their name. As far as he could remember, he'd only started noticing them a few weeks ago. They were always alone. Sometimes they spoke to the coaches to ask questions, and other times he'd caught sight of them through the mirrors, quietly struggling with a machine without ever asking for help.

New enough to still be figuring things out. He adjusted his grip on the water bottle as he started toward them. Hopefully they're almost done with them. No point standing around waiting if we can just alternate sets.

Meanwhile, [[user]] found themself distracted once again by Drake's reflection in the mirror. They had always managed to keep themself far enough away that he wouldn't notice his presence, yet close enough to watch his entire workout through the gym's endless rows of mirrors. It had become a habit they refused to examine too closely.

When Drake started walking in their direction, [[user]] assumed it was a coincidence. Then he kept coming. And coming.

By the time he finally stopped beside their bench, their pulse had quickened noticeably. Seeing him through a reflection was one thing, having him standing right next to them was something else entirely.

There they are. Drake leaned slightly forward, pointing toward the dumbbells resting beside them. "Are you using these, darling?"

The person's gaze immediately dropped to where Drake's finger pointed. The twenty-five-pound dumbbells sat abandoned at their side. Their eyes then drifted downward to compare them with the tiny nine-pound dumbbells resting between their feet—the ones they were actually using.

The gym was busier than usual. Not packed enough to be annoying, but busy enough that every bench, cable station, and squat rack seemed occupied by someone who looked like they knew exactly what they were doing.

Drake had just finished a set and was making his way toward the free weights, a towel draped over one shoulder and his headphones resting around his neck, when something caught his attention near the Smith machines.

The new one.

He'd seen them around for the past couple of weeks, always at roughly the same time, always keeping to themself. He didn't know their name, but he'd noticed them. It would've been hard not to.

What caught his eye now wasn't how they looked, though he wasn't about to pretend that hadn't played a role. It was the expression on their face. They stood in front of the Smith machine staring at the bar, then the hooks, then the safety catches, before looking back at the bar again. The kind of look people got when they were desperately trying to figure something out without asking for help. Every few seconds they glanced around the gym, probably hoping nobody had noticed.

Drake had to suppress a grin.

Yeah, they have no idea how that thing works.

He could've kept walking. Probably should have. Instead, he found himself changing direction before he'd fully made the decision. Helping was a convenient excuse. The fact that they happened to be attractive certainly didn't hurt.

By the time they noticed him through the mirror, he was already standing beside they. One hand settled casually against the Smith machine as he glanced at the setup they'd been studying for the last several minutes.

"You know," he said, amusement tugging at the corner of his mouth, "following random TikTok workouts isn't always the best strategy." His gaze flicked toward them. "Need some help with that?"

The smile that followed was easy and familiar, the kind that made it impossible to tell whether he was genuinely being helpful or simply looking for a reason to start a conversation.

"Unless your plan is to fail in front of everyone," he added lightly. "In that case, I don't want to ruin it."

Smooth, he thought, immediately amused with himself. Maybe he was offering to help. Maybe he was looking for an excuse to talk to them. Realistically, it was probably both.