Violated by Jamie Fessenden

What he needed right now was to be somewhere busy—somewhere full of strangers who wouldn’t try to talk to him.
    He still had a membership with Planet Fitness, even though he rarely used it. It was inconveniently located on Lafayette Road on the other side of Portsmouth, which was why he and Victor had stopped going when the company put in a small gym downstairs. But for tonight, it was perfect. The encounter with Victor in the men’s room had really unsettled him.
    So he went through his workout routine—the same one he and Victor had been doing for the last few years—making the rounds of the elliptical machines for about a half hour, then doing fifteen minutes on the treadmill. It felt good to have the blood pumping through his muscles again, to remind himself how much he could bench, to look in the mirror and see a guy who was tall and muscular looking back at him.
    A man .
    Maybe he could work this out of his system. Maybe a week or two of lifting weights would prove to that cowering, fearful part of his psyche that he was still tough and strong. Strong enough to walk around the office without feeling the need to hide in his cubicle every time he saw Victor. Strong enough to take a dump without fucking falling apart.
    When he walked back into the locker room, his shorts and T-shirt were drenched in sweat, so he considered hitting the showers. But there were a couple guys in there already. He could see them from the lockers, casually joking around about something he couldn’t quite make out as they lathered up their naked bodies. And there was that feeling of melting ice inside his guts again, wiping out all the confidence he’d just gained from the workout. It was irrational, he knew. They weren’t going to pin him down and try to fuck him. They were just guys rinsing the sweat off after a workout—just like he should be doing. But he couldn’t make himself go in there.
    Instead, he quickly undressed, stuffed his sweaty workout clothes in his gym bag, and put his work clothes back on. It felt disgusting. He smelled bad, his hair was damp with sweat, and the clothes clung to every inch of him. But at least it would prove to Tim that he’d really been working out.
    Scratch that. Tim would probably imagine he and Victor had been having acrobatic sex.
    Feeling sick to his stomach, Derek closed the empty locker and headed home.
     
     
    T IM WAS pissy when he got there, as he expected. He was further annoyed when Derek took a few minutes to shower before sitting down to dinner. The meal, though, was perfect, despite the delays. Tim would never allow it to be otherwise. Braised chicken with orange and scallions, diced butternut squash with butter and brown sugar, and a delicate white chardonnay.
    After dinner they watched one of the sappy, romantic movies Tim liked. Derek didn’t exactly dislike them—he simply might have chosen something more along the lines of a comedy or one of the numerous martial arts films he owned. Jackie Chan, for instance. For a fleeting moment, he wondered if Russ liked Jackie Chan movies. But he shoved that thought out of his mind. It was innocent enough, but he had enough to deal with right now without throwing that into the mix.
    Tim snuggled up to him during the movie, which meant he was probably forgiven for his detour to the gym. That was good. Unfortunately Derek wasn’t feeling the romance. He put his arm around Tim, because he knew Tim expected him to. Unfortunately Tim began stroking his inner thigh through the sweats he’d put on after his shower, and soon he was nuzzling Derek’s neck and lightly kissing it. Derek could see the swelling at Tim’s crotch, but his own cock remained stubbornly limp and uninterested .
    Christ, not now….
    When Tim paused the movie with the remote and rolled over to press his torso against his, Derek did his best to respond, pressing his lips to Tim’s and caressing his arms and back. He ignored the unpleasant prickling in his scalp and