Gamzee floated through the rest of the day in sort of a post-workout orgasmic bliss, during which every muscle of his body felt as though it were made of jelly. He got home, tripping over his exhausted feet, and took a shower, letting the cool water wash away dirt and sweat. Then '7’fell into bed and napped for four or so hours, sleeping a deeper sleep than he'd experienced since long before the first time his father had hit his mom. 

	Then, when at 5 PM he finally rolled back out of bed onto wobbling legs and stumbled his way down the stairs, made himself a peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwich, and collapsed onto the couch. It was a Friday evening; that meant without fail that his mother would be at some kind of party or social event. He had not seen her today, but that wasn’t uncommon.

	The hours of the day rolled by in a blur (not half because sometime after devouring his sandwich Gamzee trudged his way up the stairs and smoked a bowl or two). Before long, Gamzee found himself toddling back to his room and collapsing in bed, snoozing almost instantly.

	It was 9:45 when Gamzee's eyes lazily opened. He sat up, yawn already escaping his lips, and arms raising for a traditional morning stretch. Deep, ebbing pain echoed through his muscled as his limbs moved, and the lanky boy grimaced, slowing his movements and stretching his sore muscles more carefully. 

	He swung his legs over the side of the bed and gently pressed himself to standing. The moment his weight began to bear down on his legs, they began to wobble, every muscle quivering. He took a few hesitant steps as his aching legs regained their ability to function. He stretched his legs out, feeling the tight muscle fibers be forced to loosen and stretch. It hurt like hell, but he forced himself to put his legs through a full range of motion as he stepped forward, one foot at a time. 

Fuckin' christ motherfucking jesus fuckin' christ. Every step was utter agony, not only to his tortured quads and hamstrings but also every muscle in his upper body, which got a small jolt with every limping step. Somehow Gamzee managed to stumble, zombie-style into the bathroom, and turn on the shower to its hottest setting.

He stood steaming himself in the warm shower spray for a long time. He closed his eyes, and slowly, tenderly, began to move and stretch different muscles. Every part of him hurt. It was awful. After a good half hour of hot water and delicate stretching, however, Gamzee felt well enough hobble around, at least. 

He made breakfast, still aching all over, and as he munched on toast and took a bite of eggs he wondered what he'd do. No way in hell was he going to work out like that again today, or at all. But, he had also promised to meet Tavros in-- he glanced at the clock-- 45 minutes. He figured he at least owed it to him to come explain he couldn't work out today.

Gamzee parked in the lot of the Revolution Gym, groaning as he wiggled his way out of the care and forced himself to his feet. He stumbled into the gym, Rufioh turning to look as the bell above the door sounded. “Hey man!” He called, smiling, “Glad to see you again so soon!” But as Gamzee hobbled across the floor, the red-headed man grimaced sympathetically, “Ooooh, I saw you working out with my brother. He pushed you too hard, eh?”
	
“Hmph,” Gamzee shrugged, the motion alone making his shoulders feel like they’d disattached from his body, “Nothing I can’t handle.” 

Rufioh laughed, “Well, good attitude at least. But I gotta say, I’d recommend you rest a few days if you’re that sore. Better to miss a day or two of training than to miss weeks of it because you hurt yourself.”

“Trust me, I’m not gonna lift more than a paperclip for the rest of today,” Gamzee said, “But I told Tavros I’d meet him today, and I didn’t want to stand him up.” Shit! That wasn’t the right way to word it. Stupid Gamzee, it wasn’t a motherfuckin’ date. 

“Huh, that’s really good of you to come out, then. He’ll appreciate that; he’s already back there, warming up, why don’t you go let him know.” 

Gamzee thanked the athletic young man, and slowly made his way back to the gym proper. It wasn’t difficult to find Tavros; if anything, the musclebound latino would be hard to ignore. He was “warming up” with a set of bench presses; the weight loaded on the bar absolutely insane. Tavros counted the weights on the bar: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, jeez 5 45 pound weights, and then 2 more 10 pounds. Jesus, the guy was benching nearly 500 pounds, and it was just his warm-up. 

Once more, Gamzee was floored that this hulk wanted anything to do with him; his presence could only slow down the titan’s workouts. As Tavros reracked the impossible weight (almost 5 times his own weight, the thought popped errantly into Gamzee’s mind), and sat up, Gamzee walked up to the heavily-breathing boy. As soon as he saw Gamzee, his face lit up, “Hey, man! I’m glad you came!”

Gamzee tore his eyes away from Tavros’s pumped pecs; they were considerably larger than they were cold the other day. “Yeah, haha…. about that…” He explained his incredible soreness, and hesitantly posited that he wouldn’t be able to lift today. Tavros’s wide, chocolate eyes filled with guilt, “Ohmygosh, I’m sorry!! I didn’t mean to push you too hard, I guess I just gave you too much to do-!” Tavros kept going, his words speeding up til they resembled babbling.
	
“Dude, it’s cool,” Gamzee interrupted, “I just didn’t motherfucking know what I was getting into.”

The baby-faced bodybuilder still didn’t look satisfied, “But I feel bad!” He hesitated. “H-how b-bout I treat you t-to lunch today?”

“Aren't you just starting your work-out tho, man?”

“I-it’s no problem; I can lift any time!!!!” Tavros’s deep voice rose to an embarrassed pitch Gamzee would’ve thought impossible for their stature. 

The tall stoner laughed. “Dude, it’s cool. Finish your workout. I’ll just hang, and, I dunno, motherfucking observe how the pros do it.”

“W-well, I’m not really a-a professional….” Tavros’s cheeks were burning bright red. “B-but, thanks! I promise, I-I’ll take you somewhere good!!”

“It’s cool, dude. I motherfucking need to relax before I move again anyways,” Gamzee replied, slowly sitting on the bench next to Tavros’. God his thighs felt like they were gonna snap in half from protest.

Still looking slightly embarrassed, a deeply contradictory look to his frame, Tavros continued with his chest exercises; adding several more 45 lb disks to the bar. The loaded weight nearly reached the edge of the bar, yet as Tavros laid down beneath it, his incredibly thick chest almost grazing the bottom of the bar as he grasped the metal between both oversized hands. He moved the impossible weight (Gamzee did the math internally: it was over 700 pounds of pure lead) up and down smoothly, like a well-oiled piston. 5, 10, 15 reps he pounded out, seemingly effortlessly, before reracking weight, and sitting up, panting slightly. His pumped chest, an irresistible eye-draw for Gamzee, heaved in and out.

“That’s motherfuckin amazing…” Gamzee whispered, half unaware he was talking.

“Oh….” Tavros seemed embarrassed, even as his flushed cheeks sucked in more air, “I mean, for me, a-at least, that’s fairly light.” 

“Well, don’t let me motherfuckin keep you!” Gamzee contemplated how best to hide his slowly burgeoning erection as the musclebeast laid back down to continue his next set.

The monstrous youth pumped out 5 of these monster sets, only seeming to grow tired of the several hundred pound weight on the last few. “Ok, well, that’s my bench presses for today!” He announced cheerfully to the cross-legged Gamzee (he of course crossed his legs only to conceal what he could of his rock hard 11 inch erection). “Next is triceps, then some more pecs, some calf presses, and a bit more tri work, then we can go get food: is that okay?”

Gamzee tried to stop staring at the slowing pulsing, pumpkin-sized bulge of his peer (or, friend, now?), but was unable to as he responded, “Of course, man, do what you need to.”

The rest of Tavros’s workout passed in a blur as Gamzee followed his every move in a trance, responding to Tavros’s friendly conversation as best he could given his arousal. The giant followed up the bench presses with more lifts, the content and form of which totally breezed through Gamzee’s head in favor of the skinny gayboy staring at his gigantic acquaintance  Whatever lifting tips Tavros had to offer Gamzee were totally ignored in  favor of staring at the giant’s bulging horseshoe-shaped triceps as he worked them, the three-headed muscles bulging insanely. The advice about chest exercises was totally ignored as Gamzee stared at the oversized pecs of Tavros as he did flyes with 100 pound dumbbells. 

For more than an hour, Gamzee watched as the sexiest man alive did exercises that for most humans should have been well beyond the realm of possibility. And the whole time, the muscular giant made friendly conversation: asking what Gamzee was doing with his life (“Taking a break from school for the year, earning some money working at a small shop.” He didn’t mention it was a head shop), why he decided to start coming to the gym (“I just motherfucking decided to get healthy” He opted not to mention his body image issues), and other general topics. 

Gamzee was surprised at how much he enjoyed chatting with Tavros as he lifted weights well beyond Gamzee’s imagining (and not just for the view); as he grew accustomed to the giant’s appearance, his shock was eased by the tall latino’s personability. Tavros seemed legitimately interested in Gamzee’s responses, even as he grunted as he pumped out rep after rep. Gamzee responded in kind.

He found out that Tavros worked (very limited hours) part-time at the gym (“Mostly menial stuff: moving equipment, cleaning, stuff like that. Dad and Rufioh do all the real work,” he said casually, using a full-sized towel to wipe sweat off his brow, the thing already almost soaked despite having been fresh 10 seconds ago. Gamzee fought not to express his desire for his face to replace the towel as Tavros used it to wipe off his sweat-coated arms), but that his main job was at the Big&Tall store downtown (“W-well, I’ve been shopping there since I was like, 12, o-or so, so they all knew me and…” He stammered, replacing the 120 pound dumbbells he’d been curling like they were feathers, almost seeming embarrassed to talk about his physical stature). Gamzee learned that Tavros wanted to save up to go to college to study aerospace engineering (“I mean, it’s kinda silly, but I’ve always loved planes and flying and stuff… I wanted to be a pilot, but… well, I mean, I’m probably too tall to fit into a cockpit….” God, I wanna fit into your cockpit, Gamzee thought, not really sure himself what the double entendre meant).

Even as Gamzee’s eyes refused to stay focused on Tavros’s earnest brown ones, constantly drifting downwards, to his protruding nipples, his impossible bulge, Gamzee couldn’t help but be charmed by the titan. His personality was in stark contrast to his appearance; he was almost meek, really. Gamzee got the impression that somehow he was intimidating Tavros, despite the latter having enough strength to crush his body in one hand. It made Gamzee feel guilty, was the behemoth aware of how desperately turned on by him Gamzee was? 

Finally, the hulk rose to his feet from a bench he’d been leaning over to do tricep kickbacks. Gamzee tore his eyes away from Tavros’s bulging glutes as he stood. “Whew!” He sighed, reracking his dumbbell, “I’m beat!” He grabbed the hemline of his strained shirt, bringing it up to his forehead to wipe, causing Gamzee’s mouth to start watering as he revealed his rock-hard, furry abdominals. 

“Well, dude, I need to grab a shower,” Tavros looked kinda anxious, “I’ll try to be fast, sorry, I don’t wanna make you wait any longer.” 

“Dude, it ain’t no motherfucking thing!” Gamzee laughed, “I’ll just hang out til you’re done.”

The titan beamed, and gathering his water bottle, headed to the men’s locker room. As his massive ass disappeared disappeared behind the closing door, Gamzee bit his lip, and looking around furtively (no one was paying him any mind), scurried after Tavros. 

The locker room smelled like sweat and deodorant. Directly behind the door was the bathroom area; sinks lined the wall to Gamzee’s right, and urinals to the left, with the stalls just a bit further in. Tavros, thankfully, was nowhere in sight. Gamzee’s heart was pounding; he was aware that he was being a total creep, but the opportunity was just too good to resist. 

He stopped by the sinks, counting slowly in his head. How long would it take for Tavros to get into the shower? He had to walk to his locker, get his towel out, undress…. 

Gamzee tried to picture it in his mind. The muscular colossus was probably in front of his locker now, using his meaty, oversized fingers to delicately turn the dial. He was probably opening it now, pulling out his bag, unzipping it, removing his towel. Then he’d grab the hem of his shirt in each hand, peeling the sweat-saturated garment off over his hypertrophied muscles, his brick-like abs and bulging pecs revealing themselves, til he pulled the shirt off over his punkish hair. Then he’d grab his shorts, and in a fluid motion yank them down, revealing….

Gamzee was hard. He tore himself from his fantasizing. He was rubbing his bulge slightly, unconsciously. Thankfully no one had walked in on him as he had grown distracted. He decided that was enough time, and crept quietly towards the back of the locker room. He passed the toilet stalls; around the corner he could see rows of lockers, and no sign of Tavros. He heard the faint sound of water on tile. If he was lucky, it was Tavros, if he was unlucky, it was some random yahoo and he was gonna get discovered and probably gaybashed by an enraged musclegod (Gamzee considered this possibility, but he could not imagine the shrinking violet that was Tavros ever hurting someone intentionally). 

He slid into the locker area, carefully surveying his surroundings. Totally clear. He sidled up to the wall, creeping up the open doorway into the shower area. Gamzee took a deep breath, and peeked around the corner. There, near the center of the room, standing beneath 2 flowing showerheads due to his inhuman width, was Tavros.

He was facing away from Gamzee, but even still the view made him melt. He was shampooing his hair, humming softly, the melody barely audible over the pitter-patter of water. His body was… perfect, flared lats, even relaxed, bulging outwards. As his hands worked the shampoo into a lather, his biceps bulged extravagantly, so oversized that they pressed up against his forearms. His ass was perfect, like it was sculpted from marble, but deliciously tan and smooth. Suddenly Tavros turned around, exposing his back to the spray of the showerheads, and his front to Gamzee.

Gamzee nearly dove for cover, but when he saw Tavros’s package swinging around as the giant turned to face him, he froze (Tavros’s eyes, thank God, were closed). Gamzee had thought the bulge that Tavros had squashed into his lycra shorts was impossible, but unveiled it was an entirely different beast. His cock, his massive fucking cock, was nearly as thick as one of his gargantuan thighs, dangling between his legs to his knees. It likely would have reached further down, but it was pushed up and forward by Tavros’s testes. The monstrous balls were comparable to mid-sized pumpkins, hanging loosely in their massive, hairy sack.

Gamzee pulled his head back around the corner. His heart beat so loud and fast he was sure Tavros would hear it. His cock was iron. Jesus.

Gamzee waited outside the locker room, diddling around with his phone, trying to look nonchalant, while internally what he had just witnessed played on repeat, in high definition. The sound of the door swinging open snapped him to attention. Tavros waltz out, now dressed in jeans and a tee-shirt, both the garments hugging tight to his flesh. “Ready to go?”

“Yeah, of motherfuckin course!” 

Tavros lead Gamzee down the street, explaining he knew and excellent café within walking distance. The restaurant was just down the street, a small but charming place with a wide menu. The pair sat outside, Tavros bashfully explaining that the indoor seating was just a bit too cramped for him. 

They talked more over lunch, joking and laughing with one another as if they were old friends. The food was excellent; Tavros ate like a starving man, devouring 3 whole entrées as if it were nothing. When the waitress approached with the check (she herself doing a poor job of hiding her absolute fascination with Tavros’s physique), Gamzee snatched it before Tavros could. 

“H-hey, I said I’d treat you.”

“Motherfucking please, man. My family’s loaded, let me get it.” Gamzee winked, “You gotta keep saving up for school.” Tavros blushed.

They walked together back to the gym, and as they crossed the lot to the front doors, Gamzee blurted out, “Hey, Tav, I was motherfuckin’ wondering if, um, you’d motherfuckin’ like to maybe like motherfucking chill sometime?” He cursed himself for how fast his heart was pounding as he asked.

Tavros stopped, eyes widening slightly. “Um… for r-real?”

“Of course, motherfucker! You could come over to my house and we could chill.” Gamzee’s stomach was doing miniature backflips.

Tavros’s eyes shined, “Y-yeah!! That sounds really great.” The titan shifted his weight, “When did you wanna hang?”

“Well, it’s a motherfucking Saturday night, and I don’t have any plans.”

“O-oh, well, neither do I, I guess…. But I have work til 6, and I don’t have a car; I ride with my brother.”

“Then I’ll come by at 6 to pick your motherfucking ass up.”

Tavros grinned broadly, “Okay! I’ll see you at 6!”

The two said their goodbyes as Gamzee climbed back into his car  and Tavros walked back through the gym’s front doors, waving over his shoulder as Gamzee pulled out of the lot.