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This vignette was written for Summercat as part of my Patreon request days for June 2018. It contains suggestive romantic goings on and M/M sex between consenting adults. :3

[center][b][u]Taking the Lead[/u][/b][/center]

Malcolm didn't enjoy working out. Exercise made his whole body ache, and it left him exhausted and wanting to do nothing more than sleep after every session. Visiting the gym was something that the otter did for his health, to ensure that he didn't go straight from his office job to slumping down on the couch with dinner or out to a bar with friends each and every night. But, lately at least, the gym had become a little more tolerable for one reason and one reason alone. Malcolm's mind had always wandered as he jogged upon one of the gyms many treadmills, barely focused on whatever music or podcast was playing in his earbuds at the time. Recently however, he had found himself fixated upon one particular thing that had made the hour he spent at the gym five days a week absolutely fly by. Not just amused or entertained, but practically obsessed by what he had noticed, to the point where he was now leaving the gym invigorated and energised rather than weary and sore.

The source of that stimulation to his mind and body alike was, of course, another man. Another otter, in fact, one whom day after day arrived ten or fifteen minutes after Malcolm was already set up on his treadmill, and settled into a rowing machine just across the same stretch of the gym's floor. Malcolm wasn't so modest as to deny that he was a pretty fit, well kept guy, but this other otter with his tank top and shorts, with his lush silky fur and a tail every bit as thick at its base as the rest of his athletic figure, was on a whole other level. Beyond that, Malcolm wasn't even sure why he was there in the regular section of the fitness centre. Around one wrist that other man whom he found himself admiring and even idly fantasising about day after day bore a deep blue rubber band, one that marked him as eligible for access to the more spa-like VIP side of the gym. Surely they had rowing machines there too, and surely it would be less crowded and less filled with huffing, grunting, sweating anthros... not to mention fewer men seeking to spend their time shamelessly staring at him.

Whatever the other otter's reason for working out there though, Malcolm couldn't deny that he was glad of it. Day after day he found himself more and more looking forward to his visits to the gym just so he could spent thirty to forty-five minutes with his eyes wandering over every inch of the otter's handsome and exceptionally fit form. He found himself revelling in the end of his exercise each day not simply because it was over, but because it meant he was free to shower, dress and hurry home, forgetting all about any fatigue or soreness as he power-walked his way back to the privacy of his own apartment. A solitary space where he could slump down on the couch or his bed, slip out of his clothes, close his eyes, think about that gorgeous man, and lose himself in fantasies of what they'd do if he was ever bold enough to catch his eye across the gym, then go up and say something.

That was his dream, his hope which carried Malcolm through so many more weeks of jogging and subtle voyeurism. Weeks of seeing the other otter pick the same rowing machine each and every day and work his body upon it in full, uninterrupted view of Malcolm's longing gaze. Weeks of never seeing the other otter look up, imagining, longing for the day when his head would rise and their eyes would meet, but only ever having fantasies to bring to life what might happen if they did. Deep, intense, undeniably erotic fantasies which served as a little extra boost of cardio for Malcolm every evening after he arrived home from the gym for week after week after week.

Or rather, week after week, right up until the day when that predictable pattern failed Malcolm.

He arrived at the gym after work as normal. He changed into his running clothes, sweats and a loose tank top not dissimilar from the one he'd seen the other otter wearing during many of his workouts, and made his way to the treadmill. Music pumped in his ears. The machine beneath him whirred and set him off on the beginnings of his daily programme, and after around ten minutes of anticipation driving Malcolm's limbs along the treadmill's tracks, [i]he[/i] arrived. The other otter strolled right over to his usual rowing machine directly across from Malcolm even though there were half a dozen identical ones spaced out either side of his one, most of them unoccupied so close to the end of the work day. He began to settle in to his machine, having presumably stretched out elsewhere beforehand, and then...

Then, before his body could pull a single stroke upon the rowing machine itself, his head rose. His gaze travelled along the empty space between them, and impacted against Malcolm like a tonne of bricks. With no warning, with no reason whatsoever to suggest why he might do so, the other otter lifted his head and met Malcolm's gaze as the treadmill-bound otter had been busily staring and waiting to admire the other male's physique hard at work, and suddenly all of Malcolm's fantasies had a chance to become a reality. Suddenly everything he had ever hoped and longed for, everything he had ever masturbated so giddily whilst thinking about was agonisingly within reach, if only he could bring himself to smile in that moment, to step off his treadmill, and to wander up and say hello to the other otter... to tell him how he admired his form, his hard work, and of course his choice of fitness fashion, too.

Instead, to his horror, Malcolm looked away. Embarrassed, humiliated at having been caught admiring that other man, he turned his gaze urgently downward to the control panel of his treadmill, and stared with intent, unbreaking focus at the slowly increasing counter for calories burned while his cheeks too burned hotter and hotter beneath his fur.

So, that was it. He'd lost his chance. He'd missed his one opportunity, and now he'd never be able to bring himself to admire the other otter again. What if he was caught looking again? Once could easily be dismissed as just an awkward moment of happenstance, but twice... twice was creepy. Twice was inappropriate. Malcolm would have to switch treadmills, if not move gyms entirely to avoid this every happening again, or... hell, maybe this could be the reason he needed to take a break from the gym completely for a while. To finally admit to himself that he wasn't cut out for this kind of intensive exercise if the only thing that could motivate him to do it was perving on other dudes. His brow furrowed, and he kept on running. No doubt he would end up exhausted and sore as hell tonight with nothing more to distract him, but that was okay. Because tomorrow, and the day after, and for many more days beyond that, he wouldn't have to worry about that any more.

"Excuse me."

Through the still loudly playing music pumping into Malcolm's ears, the otter barely heard the voice that addressed him a few seconds later.

"Excuse me?"

It came more clearly however when a gentle tap on the otter's shoulder accompanied it, and instinctively Malcolm paused the programme that was running, the treadmill slowly beginning to wind down as he raised his head, flicked one earbud out of his ear, and turned his head to see who wanted to talk to him so badly that they had to do so mid-workout.

His green eyes met with a pair of soft hazel brown hues that made him want to melt. His body stiffened, and he barely held back a barking cry of shock. The otter's eyes couldn't help but bulge as right next to him he found the other otter, the infinitely more handsome and broad shouldered male, standing and smiling at him with a curious, playful twinkle lingering within his own gaze.

"I've seen you looking. Not just today. For weeks."

The blood drained from Malcolm's face as the other otter addressed him with the kind of brazen confidence of a man who knew he held all the cards.

"It's okay. I don't mind being watched. I know I look good. But... I have to ask, I kinda thought you might be building up to coming over and talking to me some day. I thought today might be that day, actually, when you finally noticed me noticing you. The look in your eyes. That faraway smile like you were imagining something that could happen. Did I misread things, coz, please tell me to fuck off if I did. Or...?"

His voice trailed off, though only for a few seconds as Malcolm just stood and stared in dumbstruck silence, the other otter picking up again when no answer was forthcoming.

"Or... would you just like me to take the lead? Because, that's okay."

He flashed a smile at Malcolm. The kind of smile that could have ended wars and reduced the most stoic man to tears. For that particular otter though, as the figure standing before him smiled and extended a hand, it awoke a very particular set of feelings. The same feelings that normally came to Malcolm only after he was done working out for the day, after he'd gotten home and was able to fantasise about the more intimate, personal aspects of what he and this other otter would do when finally they acknowledged one another's existence.

Swallowing thickly, not knowing what was about to happen or how it was even possible, Malcolm lifted a trembling hand and placed it in the other otter's own. He felt himself being led away from the treadmill. Away from all the gym equipment not towards the locker rooms where his bag and his clothes were kept, but towards the far side of the gym and the VIP area. They slipped through a door labelled VIP only, and into a second locker room that Malcolm had never seen before. One with individual cubicles for changing and smart, solid, high quality combination-lock based lockers. It was outside one of those lockers they paused just long enough for the other otter to open it up and pluck a small bag from within, a set of neatly folded clothes resting beneath it that remained untouched. Moments later they were on the move again, and soon together, still hand in hand, the two otters were slipping into one of the nearby cubicles.

The door closed behind them, sealing them away together as the other otter locked the cubicle firmly. He turned back to Malcolm, and after tossing his bag aside onto one of the benches affixed to two of the cubicle's four walls, his now free hand took the otter's own remaining free paw into its grasp. They stood face to face, him grinning, Malcolm blushing and staring blankly, still so overwhelmed and uncertain as to what was about to happen... though he certainly knew what he hoped, what he prayed but dared not dream was about to follow.

"What's your name?"

Malcolm blinked for a moment, then blushed as he realised that of course it was only in his fantasies that the two of them had been meeting up, fooling around and getting to know one another for weeks already.

"I... M-Malcolm. That's my..."

His voice trailed off, cheeks flushing crimson at his own awkward foolishness. The other otter just giggled though, a surprisingly soft, high giggle given his broad and undeniably masculine body.

"Hi, Malcolm. I'm Sorrel. And... I've been wondering for weeks whether you wanted to kiss me or not. Because, you can, y'know. Right here, right now. If you want to kiss me, you absolutely c-[i]mmhh...[/i]"

The dam broke. All Malcolm's nerves, all his fears, it all came to a head as he heard the other otter... Sorrel, say so openly and unabashedly that he knew exactly why Malcolm had been admiring him, and that he was okay with it. After that, what else could the otter possibly do but kiss him? And thus, kiss him he did. Immediately, feverishly, pressing their noses and lips together head on in a kiss that didn't linger too long nor share much in the way of tongue, but which burned with such intensity for the brief while it did last that it left no doubt in either man's mind as to their continued intent.

"A-ah. So... what else did you want to do?"

Their lips parted, though their faces remained deliciously close, ragged breathing washing out over one another's brown furred features. Malcolm trembled slightly in desire and sorrow as Sorrel slipped his hands out from within the grasp of his own, but gave a frantic, delighted gasp just moments later as the other otter quizzed him again, and those same hands came to rest upon Malcolm's hips. Both men gasped and moaned, foreheads and lips pressing together once more as Sorrel rocked his own midriff forward just a few seconds later, and they both felt movement, a definite stirring between the other otter's legs as their crotches met and lingered in contact alongside their second, somewhat deeper kiss.

"All those weeks watching me. What were you hoping you'd get to do? What were you imagining we might be able to share?"

Sorrel whispered as his hands slid around the back of Malcolm's sweat-pants and boldly, unabashedly slipped down their interior, cupping the bare cheeks of the otter's firm ass within and squeezing, massaging them with dextrous fingertips. He continued to whisper to Malcolm as they rocked together, as their bodies grew more and more unabashedly worked up and their muzzles continued to meet, nuzzling, kissing, simply holding themselves against one another in the hopes of yet more intimacy to come.

"If I told you that after any workout... after every workout we could slip back here together and make all those fantasies come true one by one... would you like that?"

A soft groan escaped Malcolm's lips, and he inclined his head in a helplessly sincere, eager nod. Sorrel growled playfully back, and kissed him yet again as the hands upon Malcolm's ass slid around, scooting from the rear of his sweat-pants to the front. Warm hands made contact with the otter's furred balls and his hot, swollen cock. His eyes bulged. He gave a strangled cry, and instinctively his own hands grasped at Sorrel's midsection in return, though still on the exterior of the other otter's tented shorts.

Sorrel grinned, and glanced over at the small bag resting just a metre or so away.

"There's lube in there, if you want. Or we can start slower. Just... just tell me what you want. You've caught my eye now. You don't need to be bashful, or to wait, or to hide any more. Just tell me. Just say what you want, Malcolm. If you don't ask, I can't say yes."

Malcolm shuddered from head to toe as Sorrel slowly squeezed his cock and balls, gently masturbating him as they stared at one another with unrestrained hunger and nervous desperation respectively. He took a deep breath, then another, then a third as he tried to find the words to explain what he wanted in a way that didn't sound too needy or demanding, that didn't sound like he expected too much of this man who was already offering him so much despite barely knowing him at all. Finally though he realised he had no choice but to take and trust in Sorrel's advice. To just say it. To just tell Sorrel what he had fantasised about so many times upon arriving home from the gym, and hope that it wasn't asking for too much, too fast.

"W-will you... would you... f-fuck me?"

He asked, his eyes widening as through the fabric of Sorrel's shorts he felt the other otter's cock twitch violently.

And a moment later, with Sorrel grinning toothily back at him and the other man's beautiful brown eyes peering hungrily, gleefully into his own, he received an answer that was so short and simple and spoken with such ease that Malcolm couldn't believe he had waited so very long to ask that question.

"Yes."

By Jeeves

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