Page 38 of Nova Academy

It could just be that he wanted to lay low and avoid drawing attention to himself after all the accusations being thrown at Reece and our team by proxy, and if that were the case then I couldn’t blame him. If I hadn’t already been watching him more closely these past few days ever since his strange private meeting with CWO Brin that had left him acting weird, I never would have noticed the inconsistencies. He seemed to be working hard just like everyone else, and his weights weren’t small, they just weren’t as large as I knew they could be after yesterday’s display. I wondered if he even realised that he’d given us a peek into his true capabilities.

Watching him now, I didn’t think so. He was far too focused on his act. And he was an amazing actor, I’d give him that. I merely happened to have information that debunked his attempts to hide, not to mention the way his body was giving him away with the lack of perspiration and strain. I was fully aware that Terrans could sweat into existence an entire ocean. Pornography was a brilliant research tool for anatomy, and I’d always been intrigued by them. They seemed so soft and pliant. Delicate, even. Including the males. But they persevered through the toughest of situations, even managing to breed their way throughout the Intergalactic Union. But not without an exuberant amount of sweat.

It was such a shame I’d never been lucky enough for the experience myself.

Definitely a dream of mine.

Unfortunately, I was getting hot and sweaty in a gym rather than between the sheets, and I was just going to have to deal with that. Though, I wouldn’t say no to more muscles. It certainly couldn’t hurt.

???

Wrong.

Fuck, I was so wrong. It could definitely hurt.

Foryk’s face blocked my view of the domed ceiling as he came to stand over me. I was lying prone on the floor, chest heaving, breaths coming in short, desperate gasps, and my clothes sticking to me with the amount of sweat I was excreting.

‘I’m… dying…’ I gasped out.

He just chuckled. ‘Slow your breathing. Deep breaths, not so shallow.’

I tried, but it wasn’t as easy as he made it sound.

‘Come on, Bromm,’ he said as he knelt beside me, taking my hand in his and placing it on his chest. ‘Matchmybreaths then.’

He started breathing, much too slowly for my current state, but I did as I was told. His chest rose and fell beneath my hand, and I copied the best I could until I succeeded in the synchronisation.

‘There you go,’ he praised. It was kind, but the effect was ruined when he undercut it with another laugh. I smacked him weakly when I sat up.

‘I don’t think I can use my arms,’ I whined.

‘You’ll be fine. You’ll have to work them again tomorrow so they don’t cramp up, though,’ he informed me with a cheeky grin that flashed his fangs. I couldn’t stop my long groan of dread if I’d tried.

‘All right, folks. Hit the showers, you’re done for the day. I’ll see you bright and early tomorrow morning!’ Corporal Stanson called from his position on the mats.

As each team trudged back into the locker room looking equally miserable and exhausted, I felt much better. At least I wasn’t alone in my suffering. But then I realised they looked like that after spending their time with different instructors, and I knew tomorrow was going to be just as stars-damned awful as today onlywith a different method of torture.

Arty broke off from us first, grabbing his clothes from his locker and moving towards the shower stalls in another section of the room. When he saw the stalls, his entire body relaxed as if he’d been expecting someone to jump out at him from behind a stall or something, but all the doors stood open while they waited to be put to use. He grabbed the closest one, the door clicking shut with a heavy snick.

He could have merely been extremely eager to wash, but I didn’t think that was it. Now that I was thinking about it, I’d never actually seen him get ready in the morning, or at night. He was always up and ready before the rest of us, which I had previously assumed was because he was an early riser. Now, I was leaning towards the idea that he was self-conscious or shy about his body. Why, though, I didn’t understand. He was an attractive man, and quickly becoming the most common cause of my morning wood. Just last night I had a very pleasant dream where I had him writhing beneath me. The image was so stimulating that I almost blew my load in my sleep, and this morning’s self-pleasure session in the shower ended almost before it began.

Perhaps he had communal washing stations where he was from. The little he’d spoken about his past had clued me in that he hadn’t had a typical upbringing, but with each odd action or reaction from him I wondered if there was more to his story. If there was, I had a bad feeling it wasn’t good and my desire to help him break through those brainwashed barriers was growing each and every day.

But that was neither here nor there. He had left his past behind when he stepped on board this ship, just like the rest of us. His home was now the military, wherever that sent him. Whatever doors that opened up to explore his sexuality, the only thing I could do was present myself as a viable option if he ever decided to experiment.

Stepping out of the stall, clean and refreshed, I felt a lot better, though my dick was at half-mast from the direction of my thoughts. I held my work-out clothes in one hand, striding back to my locker stark naked. I’d never been ashamed of my body. As a Griknot prince, I’d been taught from an early age to embody our ideals, and that included embracing nudity as natural and beautiful regardless of shape or size or muscle tone. I’d been told often by past lovers how they enjoyed my softness, especially when they felt the hardness of my muscle beneath. Just because it was cushioned didn’t mean it wasn’t there.

I didn’t know if I’d be able to hold onto that softness here, however, but I would certainly try.

As I walked past the other stalls I heard a squeak. When I turned to see what it was I could’ve sworn I heard a door slam. The only stall nearby that was still occupied was Arty’s, and the barely perceptible shake proved he tried to exit right as I walked by. Had he seen me in all my bare-assed glory and hid?

I grinned to myself. This was a good sign.

Everyone else had already finished their showers and were in the process of dressing by their lockers. As I past them I caught sight of Reece as he bent over, his bare ass on full display as he picked up an item of clothing he must have dropped. My cock stiffened the rest of the way as I took him in, all that exposed bare skin and rippling muscle. He was a glorious specimen and I thoroughly enjoyed the view. Especially when he turned and caught me eyeing him up. His skin changed from pale white to a shocking shade of pink.

He shook his head at me when I winked, choosing to ignore me rather than flirt back, but I didn’t take it personally. I was aware his sexuality leaned more towards women, though with the way I’d noticed his growing protectiveness over Arty I was curious if he’d be open to being with a man, just probably not me.

That was fine. I had plenty of options, and Arty truly was anattractive man. I would keep my attentions on him, though the idea of being the meat in an Arty-Reece sandwich excited me even more. Definitely spank bank material to save for later.

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