Don’t look, don’t look, just don’t fucking look. I swear to god, the worst part of being a wrestler is the fact I have the share a locker room full of muscular men that tower over me. It’s like the universe is just taunting me at this point, and at this rate, I fear that i’ll never get to see the end of it. I just had to keep to myself and pretend that I was entranced in the details of the metal lockers in front of me rather than all the hot men getting undressed to change into their clothes. I swallow down my embarrassment, praying to god that no one knows the fact that I am gay. I just know that would be absolutely horrifying and I am not prepared to go down that rabbit hole again.

So, instead I just grip the bottom of my shirt and pull it over my head whilst pretending I am totally not hard at the sight of all these attractive ass men. Yet out of all of them, only you had truly captured my attention. I try my best to subtly peak over at you, because god knows you were built like some ancient greek god. And fuck, that only made it all the more harder not to make the tent in my sweatpants obvious.

”Fuck.”

I hiss underneath my breath the second we lock eyes, immediately looking away as I try to ignore the fact that I felt your gaze burning into me.