Craig
Gay romance
18+
2 A.M.
Craig time.
Coffee mug in hand, I sat in the comfy armchair in front of my second-floor apartment window.
Across a line of bushes from my building was another apartment building. My window gave a perfect view of the gym on the first floor, which they had made in all glass for some reason.
As if people in gyms didn't feel self-conscious enough.
I was grateful for it, though, because it provided me with Craig. Crazy, I know, but I only knew his name by taking a picture of him in the gym and running it through Google.
He started his gym session at 2 A.M. and went until 4. I didn't know if he could see me watching him, but I didn't really care. He should've known how hot he was. Men like that just...weren't real.
He looked almost like Thor, except his hair was a few shades darker, worn in a ponytail or sometimes a bun. I longed to see it down.
I didn't know shit about working out, but I had learned what exercises Craig did on what nights, which weights he lifted.
I watched him tonight, running on a treadmill, alone as always. I bit my bottom lip, deciding that I had to meet him.
I waited until the next night to sneak over to the other apartment building. I waited for someone to open the door and caught it before it closed. The gym came up quickly, the inside wall made of glass, too.
I needed a key card to get in. Fuck.
He was still on the treadmill. I lifted a hand and knocked on the transparent door.
Craig turned his head, stopped the treadmill, and jumped off. He looked worried, scared, cheeks and ears flashing pink with embarrassment.
He hesitated for a long moment before opening the door. As I entered the apartment gym, I wondered what his problem was.
Then I smelled it.
Rotten eggs and some other strong, noxious, chemical odor. Horrendous.
The door closed, sealing the smell in the glass box. At least the air conditioning was good. I tried not to react to the spoiled air.
"So you decided to finally come talk to me." Craig grinned, the sexiest smile known to man. He knew. He had seen me watching. "Regret it yet?"
"Why would I regret it?" I felt like the smell was in my mouth. Unless he was implying...no. That wouldn't fit his godlike looks. The smell had to be a decomposing animal in the vents or something.
"There's a reason I work out all alone so late at night." Craig clapped a hand to my shoulder. "I got killer farts, man."
"That's why you make funny faces a lot," I realized aloud. I felt queasy, disgusted.
How? How did this horrible, offensive wind come from a man as fine as Craig?
"Ha, yeah, that would be it." Craig stepped closer. "I kinda like you watching me. But I, uh, don't really date. For obvious reasons."
He waved his arms through the air, referencing the flatulence. "I mean, I'm cool with it, but I'm not gonna ask anyone else to put up with this."
A fart escaped him. PWR-BRR-WRRP. "Sorry. I tried to hold it. Never works so well for me."
He was standing close to me, and he'd blown ass. But the way he was looking at me was the same way I looked when I watched him. He wanted me. I wanted him.
But the gas...
I had never been so conflicted about a man.
