Even for someone as jovial and nonthreatening as Craig, it had taken Hugo the better part of four dates to finally show him the room. He’d stood to the side, trying to keep composure, and not start to nervously tug at the corner of his mustache as he watched Craig survey the entirety of his little kingdom.

He should have known that Craig, of all people, would be into it, but it still had come as a tremendous relief.

“Thought you might be into some stuff like that, bro! Wow… look at that collector’s edition figure of Pablo Escobrawl, dude!!”

And as pleasant as the night had continued – Craig’s statement wouldn’t leave his mind. 

Thought you might be into some stuff like that, bro.

…

“What did you mean by that?” Hugo asks apropos nothing, sitting to the side in Craig’s little workout room. He’s out of breath after jogging on the treadmill and decided to take a little break while watching Craig pull himself up with a bar repeatedly.

“What do you mean, bro?”

He sounds out of breath. He’s been at it longer than Hugo before he could make himself crawl out of bed on a Sunday; but the promise of this… of seeing Craig in all his sweaty glory… it is usually enough to drag him out.

“Ah, uhm…” he realizes suddenly that of course Craig wouldn’t have a clue what he’s been obsessing about for the better part of a week, and quickly pulls off his glasses, cleaning them while feeling himself blush. “I meant… back in my… my room. You said you thought I might be into some stuff like that.”

“Ah. That.”

He hears a soft grunt and pushes his glasses back onto his nose, peering up. Craig has let go of the bar and is now idly wiping his brow with a towel.

“Just… saw you looking at me a lot during workouts. Thought you might like some sports…”

Hugo’s face was aflame, eyes jerking through the room, trying to find anything to occupy himself with. “You… ah… I… I’m sorry if I…”

“Nah, dude. All’s well. Don’t worry, I think it’s flattering. Not everybody likes to hang in a tiny room that reeks of workout. Takes a special kinda man to appreciate the hard work, dude.”

Hugo watches him amble closer. His gaze is fixed on the dark patch of hair beneath Craig’s arm; then travels down towards his crotch, where his cock has left a distinct line of sweat against the material.

“Well,” he murmurs, flustered; he has no idea what Craig has been talking about. “Well, yes… that is certainly…”

Craig is coming closer, and then he is really close, his big hands lying in the back of Hugo’s neck, idly playing with the sweaty hair there; too short to be put into the tiny bun he has wrangled some in, too long to be entirely comfortable during a long workout.

Craig is smirking down at him. Hugo feels like he missed a vital part of the conversation.

He blinks sluggishly.

“Wait… what? I…”

Craig’s smirk morphs into a smile; jovial as the rest of him as he suddenly lifts his leg and braces his foot against the edge of the bank Hugo is sitting on. The big hands playing with his sweaty hair are putting gentle pressure against the back of his head: coaxing him forward.

“Craig…”

“SShhh… I gotchu, bro.”

Hugo’s face is flaming, his heart hammering almost nauseatingly fast in his chest.

He lets Craig guide him forward, the sharp, salty smell of his sweaty junk reaching him long before his face gets pressed into the humid, hot space.

He groans, his cock lifting suddenly and dizzyingly against his own bright orange Escobrawl sweatpants.

Craig is crooning at him, his hands a gentle weight against the back of Hugo’s neck. Keeping him pressed against his unwashed cock through the thin fabric of his styler sweats. 

“That’s it… you like that, yeah? Nothing wrong with it… damn, bro… ffff…”

He doesn’t let himself swear – has probably not done so since the twins had been born – but he does rock forward gently, dragging his sweatpants cock against Hugo’s panting face.

Hugo squirms, feels Craig immediately let go of him, and just turns his head to the side to pull his glasses out of the way. He is impossibly embarrassed, doesn’t dare to look up at Craig, but he’s also ready to shoot off just from inhaling his thick scent, and he doesn’t want to let go of this.

He clutches at Craig’s cut hips with shaking hands, as he takes a long, audible inhale. Craig hums above him, his hands returning to his head; his shoulders; petting him as Hugo tugs his pants down slowly but surely.

First, he buries his nose in Craig’s pubes; groaning low in his throat at the wetness he can feel against his face; then he slides further down; mouthing at the thick shaft; at the hot, soft swell of his balls.

Craig is not as hairy as Hugo is; he also trims his body hair artfully; his testicles are so naked…

“Hugo…” Craig grunts above him as he finally pops the tip into his mouth, eyes watering from the sharp smell of workout sweat; his own cock drooling against the cotton of his pants. 

“Dude… yeah… that’s… d… dang…” He takes a step back, his chest heaving, face for once flushed a dark red as he stares down onto Hugo, mouth still open, drool slicked down the side of his chin, dark eyes a seemingly pure black as he stares up at him adoringly-

and then he’s got a lap full of Craig, heavy and substantial, feeling his cock press against his belly, as he gets led by one hand once more, even though he wouldn’t have needed it this time.

Hugo buries his face in Craig’s pit; feeling the curling wet hair against his cheeks. He gags from the humid stench, but presses in deeper, groaning low in his throat while Craig rocks against him, fucking his cock against the soft fabric of Hugo’s shirt as he holds his arm up; letting him mash his face into the sweaty pit.

“That’s… that’s so hot,” he whispers next to Hugo’s ear. He sounds breathless and into it, and Hugo can’t believe his luck…

“Wanna wrestle with you someday, bro. Think it’s gonna be hot as… hot as heck. Let you sniff me afterwards when we’ve gotten our sweat on.”

Hugo whines, high and pathetic, hands clutching at the back of Craig’s tanktop. He can’t believe his luck. He can’t believe…