Kurt sighed as the kid bounded up to him like a puppy, all floppy dark hair and enthusiasm.

“Wow! You can press three hundred pounds? That’s awesome!” He was wearing a loose t-shirt that hung off his wide frame, like his bones had been growing and the rest of his body hadn’t quite woken up to the fact.

“You want something?” Kurt grunted.

The kid beamed as wide as if Kurt had just complimented him on his blow job technique. “Would you spot me? Maybe show me a couple of techniques? I’m trying to bulk up a bit. Hey, do you take any supplements? Protein shakes, that kind of shit?”

“No.” Kurt sat up, wiping the sweat off his forehead with the hem of his vest. “Do you ever shut up?”

The kid mimed zipping his lip, then ruined the effect by shooting his mouth off again almost immediately. “I’m Matthew. Or Matt, Matt’s fine. You’re Kurt, aren’t you? I heard the guy at the desk say your name when you came in. Hey, those triceps are amazing. How big are they around?”

Kurt froze as Matt actually put his hands on Kurt’s arm, in an action that was about one part measurement to twenty parts caress. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” he hissed, eyes flicking round the gym. “Jesus, kid, you want to get the shit kicked out of you the minute you’re out of here?”

Matt backed off about a whole quarter of an inch, hands raised. “Hey, it’s cool, don’t sweat it. You think anyone’s going to mess with you? You gotta weigh, what, one-eighty? Two hundred? No one’s gonna mess with that.”

“Ain’t me I’m worried about.” Kurt stood up, and Matt stepped back, making space. “I got to shower.”

“Yeah, I’m done here, too. I’ll go down there with you. Hey, maybe we could grab some lunch, after?”

“I’m not hungry.”

“We could just get a drink, then.” Taking a hint didn’t seem to be the kid’s strong suit.

Kurt folded his arms. “No. Now beat it. I’m going to take a shower, and that ain’t a spectator sport.”

Matt danced out of his way, smiling like he hadn’t just been given the brush-off. “Okay, okay! No big. I’ll catch you later!”

Shaking his head, Kurt walked away. Damn, he was going to have to find another gym at this rate. Couple of weeks ago it’d been that Asian guy, Shingo -- although at least he’d known enough to take no for an answer. Matt, now ... Kurt was thinking he might have to get nasty with this one. Which he kind of didn’t want to do. It’d be like kicking a puppy right after it’d licked your hand.

But Matt was just wasting his time here, and the sooner he knew it, the better.

* * * *

Kurt managed to have his shower in peace, but he might have known it wouldn’t last. Matt bounded up to him as he was emptying his locker. “Hey, Kurt! You know, I was thinking. We should meet up for a drink one night. Somewhere away from the gym, you know?”

The locker door slammed a little harder than Kurt meant it to, but he was pissed. “Damn it, kid, you always try to pick guys up in the locker room? If you get yourself knocked down on one of these tiled floors, it’s going to hurt like shit. There is a time and a place, and this fucking well ain’t it.”

Matt shrugged, his sweaty hair falling over his face on one side. “I think most people round here are pretty cool with me being gay.”

“Most people? Kid, it only takes one who’s not. If you want to hook up with someone, stick to the gay bars.”

“Well, yeah, that’s what I was planning. We could meet up for a drink, maybe go to Castro’s --”

“Listen, Matt. You’re cute, but ...” Kurt sighed.

“But what? You don’t date cute?” Christ on a crutch. The kid had honest-to-God dimples when he smiled.

“I don’t date, period.”