Robert and gavi

Chapter 2

Gavi wanted to die.

The second session with Robert had been going normally enough. Gavi was laying back on the treatment bed, leg raised as Robert massaged his thigh. Gavi's line of sight was fixed on a particularly prominent vein along Robert's hairy forearm. They were discussing the Barcelona game over the weekend. Gavi was agreeing with him on tactics when Robert's hand pressed against his inner thigh, only a few inches from his crotch area.

His hands were so big. It amazed Gavi how they could be so gentle, yet strong when needed. Robert was giving him a steady massage as he praised the current Barcelona coach, calling him an improvement over the previous one.

Maybe, in addition to Robert's magic hands, it was how he had Gavi's leg raised on the bed. Or maybe it was the scent of Robert's cologne. Or maybe it was the sound of his soothing voice. Or maybe it was Robert's general close proximity overall.

Whatever it was, Gavi was getting hard.

He willed himself to think of the unsexiest thing alive: Premier League referees. He named them in his head, tried to conjure their faces and faults as clearly as possible. When that didn't help, he thought of death, destruction and all the injustices of the world.

And still his dick rose. He was wearing loose gray sweats and his boner was beyond obvious. Gavi's face turned redder than the roses in the get-well bouquets he received while in the hospital. He was now fully hard in front of his hot physical therapist. A fate worse than death. He was so embarrassed he couldn't even pretend to uphold his end of the conversation. He was mortified into silence.

To Robert's credit, he remained expressionless as he lowered his leg. He then turned to his tablet to jot down a few things. When Robert's back was turned, Gavi adjusted himself and put on his shirt which gave him a bit more coverage over his shorts.

"I'll return in a few minutes and we can head to the weight room," Robert said with a pleasant smile, as if Gavi's stupid boner hadn't been the elephant in the room.

When Robert left, Gavi rubbed his knuckles against his closed eyes before hitting the cushioned bed on either side of him. His physical therapist was just trying to do his job and Gavi had to be gross and get hard and make everything uncomfortable. Even though Robert didn't seem bothered, it was killing Gavi. The shame of his predicament eventually made his dick soften. He scooted to the edge of the bed. Maybe if he feigned feeling sick he could just wait in the lobby until Pedri came by to pick him up.

Robert returned to the room. "Ready to lift some weights?"

Gavi nodded.

He could pretend that none of it happened, same as Robert was doing because he was a professional.

But that wouldn't be Gavi.

"Um, sorry about that," Gavi said, scratching the nape of his own neck and looking down at the floor. He was too embarrassed to say it to his face but at least he said something.

"Don't worry about it," Robert said. "It happens more often than you'd think."

Gavi glanced up, curiosity getting the better of him. "Really? Like, even to straight guys?"

Robert shrugged. "Bodies just react to certain things. It's natural. Nothing to be ashamed about."

Gavi's posture straightened. He felt slightly better knowing he wasn't some horny freak anomaly. "Must be awkward for you though."

"I take it in stride."

Gavi chuckled. Robert probably had some stories. He allowed the tall man to help him off the bed. "Do you tell your wife about it sometimes? Does she think it's weird or funny?"