Best Buds (Part 5)

[arpeejay]

By Richard Jasper

Part 1: http://www.musclegrowth.org/forum/sh...ad.php?t=16622

Part 2: http://www.musclegrowth.org/forum/sh...ad.php?t=16708

Part 3: http://www.musclegrowth.org/forum/sh...ad.php?t=16710

Part 4: http://www.musclegrowth.org/forum/sh...ad.php?t=16718

Spring semester seemed to fly by for James and John, possibly because they spent a bit less time together.

"You've graduated," John said their first Saturday after classes started.

"Huh?" James asked. "What are you talking about?"

John chuckled.

"I mean, Meathead, that you've learned everything you're going to learn from me in the gym," John pointed out. "You don't need me any more."

James spluttered.

"Bu-bu-but....!"

John shook his head

"But nothing," he continued. "And, let's face it, James. It's not just that you've learned everything I have to teach you -- you're way ahead of me. Fact is, we have different goals and..."

James was looking glum.

"And...?"

John smirked.

"I can't keep up with you, Doofus!"

James laughed at that.

"I thought I was 'Meathead'?"

"You ARE 'Meathead,'" John agreed. "Except when you're BEING a doofus instead. I reserve the right to use the terms interchangeably, depending on the circumstances."

Which is why John started working out in the West Quad weight room instead of the main campus gym, where James was now a well-respected member of the Bee Gees, the Big Guys who tossed around the heavy weights that were out of the league of most gym-goers.

Besides, John said to himself, if I had to watch him go at it like the Hulk every morning, well...

He shook himself. No point in thinking about that!

Other than that, their routine was much the same. They still met at the dining hall for breakfast, lunch and dinner; John still dragged James, albeit with less dragging than previously, to the same array of social functions; and they still spent half an hour before bed each night doing partner-assisted stretching.

Somehow, every weekend, John managed to go out with a different girl. He was beginning to notice that, unlike high school, he didn't seem to be having many second dates, much less third or fourth dates, and nothing resembling going steady.

He had hopes for Kelli but she turned him down after the second date. Exasperated, he blurted, "Well, why not?" She gave him a soul-searching look, as if she were trying to make a decision, then said. "Well, wouldn't it be awkward with James?"

John's jaw dropped.

"What does James have to do with it?"

There was just a hint of pity in Kelli's look but never having had any experience with that kind of look John didn't even notice.

"He has everything to do with it, doesn't he?"

John frowned.

"You don't like him?"

Kelli rolled her eyes.

"That's not it at all, doofus! I adore him. It's just that the two of you do everything together, y'know?"

John just stared at her; Kelli shrugged her shoulders.

"I guess when you get down to it I'm just not very good at sharing."

She gave John, whose mouth was still hanging open, a sisterly kiss on the cheek and headed back to her dorm.

After that, John decided any girl he went out with would get one follow-up invitation from him but any others would have to come from THEM. And then he put it out of his mind; he never quite got around to noticing that there no more third dates.

Meantime, the gym was obviously doing wonders for James.

Sometime in early February he caught up with John in terms of weight. A month later...

"Oof," John said while he was stretching out James' big, beefy shoulders. "This was a lot easier to do when you were just a little shit."

With that James sat up, flipped John over, and began kneading his roommate's back, his big quads squeezing John's narrow, muscular hips.

"On the other hand," John pointed out reasonably. "It's now a lot easier for me to stretch YOU. Which has its advantages, don't you think?"

With that he really put his weight into the next motion and John groaned in pleasure.

"Ja, Hilda, da massage is very goot!" John said in his best fake Swedish accent.

They were both in a sweat by the time they finished.

"Uh," James said. "I think I'm gonna have to take a shower before I go to bed."

John nodded.

"Me, too," he agreed, then added. "You know, this really isn't supposed to be a sport! The point is to relax, not beat the living shit out of each other."

James laughed.

"You're saying, in other words, you want me to go easy on you?"

John rolled his eyes.

"Well, ya know, I'm not the..."

Then he paused.

He looked at James.

Broad shoulders, thick chest, meaty arms, BIG quads and calves, washboard abs.

"Jesus, Meathead, just how much DO you weigh these days?"

James pondered that.

"You know," he said slowly. "I don't really know."

John grabbed the tape measure and ordered James onto the scale. His eyes bugged out when he saw the number:

"Holy shit!" he exclaimed. "180.8"

James shook his head back and forth.

"I thought it was probably about that, just wasn't sure."

Which was a small prevarication on James' part. The fact was he weighed himself every day, sometimes twice. That morning he'd been 180.2 in the gym -- he "just wasn't sure" how much he weighed that evening.

"How about you?" James asked casually.

John snorted.

"Not that much!"

He stood on the scale; James read the number.

"175.4"

John looked at James. His roommate had a shit-eating grin on his face.

"Wanker," John said. "You passed me and didn't mention it, huh?"

He punched James in the shoulder -- in was like punching a brick wall. James just laughed.

"So, uh," John began. "Just how much do you bench now?"

James rolled his eyes.

"You and the holy motherfucking bench press," James growled.

John just looked at him.

"You're not up to 400 are you? Because, ya know, that would be seriously scary."

James patted his friend on the head as if he were a little boy.

"Now, now don't fret," James said, teasingly. "You have nothing to worry about, I'm definitely not THERE."

John looked at the big thick vein crawling up James' left arm and the noticeable cleft between his big pecs.

"Not YET, you mean."

James waggled his hand in the universal signal for "maybe, maybe not."

"How much, dammit!"

James squared his shoulders, threw out his chest, locked his lats into place, and gave James a salute.

"385, sir, reporting for duty sir!"

John actually turned pale.

"Holy fucking shit," he said. "That's 130 lbs. more than I can do!"

James' grin was the definition of shit-eating.

He's a fucking beast, John told himself.

James punched John in the shoulder, causing the young athlete to stagger back a step.

"Lights out, buster," James said. "Can't grow if you don't rest!"

With that he turned, crossed his arms, and pulled off his baggy t-shirt.

Fuck, John thought, Look at that fucking back!

Forgetting the shower, John hastily slid under the covers and turned off his reading light before James could turn around.

"Nitey nite, Meathead," John said.

"Nite, Buster," James replied.

John suddenly realized that the semester was only half over.

What's he gonna look like come May?!

Sleep was a long time coming that night.

[More to cum...]

[anglekindle]

Sitting on the edge of my seat here waiting for the next one!

[Demandred]

I've really enjoyed it so far. Looking forward to the next part!

[ganteugene]

Those are good. Every other better than the last.