Page 89 of Built To Perform

“H-hey.”

It was embarrassing, frankly, how my voice still cracked sometimes over just how gloriously hot my big bros were. Not like I hadn’t seen the handsome Brazilian naked plenty of times, and yet just once glimpse now was enough to make me worry I’d bone up under the water.

Carlos swung one long leg over the side of the hot tub, then spotted my confused frown. “Water too warm?”

I shook my head. The water was still fine; it was the fact that he wasn’t taking off the sunga before getting into it that was concerning.

He settled down with a contented sigh, arms stretching out across the edge of the tub. “Damn, that feels good.”

It did, but my attention had been caught by Brayden and Jefferson walking up the path together. Brayden’s towel slung around his narrow waist; Jefferson’s around his neck, revealing the pair of white nylon shorts he was wearing.

Normally, I’d have accused such shorts as being knowingly, intentionally tiny. Now, watching Jefferson climb into the hot tub, my worry was more that they were apparently staying on.

Brayden yanked away the towel, a shimmering red Speedo underneath.

I swallowed, suddenly foreseeing a world where Donny and I were the only ones who’d be naked in the tub.

Laughter from down the path made me turn, seeing the teammate in question. Walking between Coach and Luke, wearing a pair of board shorts.

He paused at the edge of the tub to shove them down. White briefs underneath.

“Guess which idiot forgot his swimsuit,” he admitted, grinning, then hopped into the water.

The white cotton instantly went translucent.

Coach had a very sensible pair of black swim-shorts on, conservative even, though you couldn’t miss his impressive chest. Broad and with a layer of buzzed-short hair, and if I’d ever doubted his history as an athlete, one glimpse would’ve been enough to convince.

Luke was slimmer, a little closer to Adam’s build than that of his boyfriend. Which was, quite frankly, a dangerous mental path to stray down: it led to thinking about some of the things Adam and I had done together, only swapping in the images of Coach and Luke. The tingle between my legs confirmed I needed to redirect my imagination, and fast.

In his black swimsuit, a fairly standard brief-cut, Luke rounded out the seventh occupant of the hot tub. A count within which I was distinguished by being the only one completely and utterly nude.

The heat of the water wasn’t what was making my face flush, certainly.

“Any particular reason you’re butt-naked, lil bro?” Brayden asked it casually, though the smirk made clear that he’d clocked the potential for mischief early on.

I blinked at him, trying to ignore the similar smirks on my teammates’ faces.

“I... uh... Well, Donny said...”

When I turned to him, sat on my left, Donny’s extra-wide grin made very, very clear just how gullible I’d been.

I glared at him, wondering if the shared water would mean a sudden, targeted lightning strike to the top of his head would also vaporize the rest of us. It might still be worth risking.

“I’ll go put something on,” I suggested.

Luke waved away the idea. “I’m gonna assume everyone here has already seen it many times before. So if you’re doing it to save my blushes, don’t bother.”

Coach gave him a look, which didn’t seem to phase Luke either.

“Shocking as this may sound,” Luke told his boyfriend, “I’ve actually seen naked men before. And survived to tell the tale, even.”

Coach snorted. “I’m turning the bubbles on,” he said.

The rush of air around me was startling, but I couldn’t say I disliked the way it clouded the water. Not quite masking me from the chest down, but certainly leaving my bare body a little less obvious.

“So,” Brayden said, after we’d all sat in the hissing, frothing water for a while, “these naked men you’ve seen...”

Luke laughed, while Coach shot daggers with his eyes at the senior.