I feel as if I am probably alienating myself from my audience with this story. People don't come to read fanfiction to read about me practically trashing the characters. They come for smut and Mary Sues. Whoops.
Chapter 2
Draco was fighting a war with his genetics and felt like he was losing. He had a sort of mild anorexia he was too ashamed to even admit to himself he had. It was not that bad since he was too damn lazy to go fully through with it. No matter how much he exercised or dieted, he still felt fat. No matter how many calories he had burned from the long swim through the lake or the run through the forest, he still felt that he was not good enough. Though a lean body stared out at him from the mirror, all he could see was the molecule of fat that poked from his lower abdomen, which caused him much distress in the face of his romantic ways, or at least he thought it did. In fact, he was one of the best looking kids in the school, but another aspect of his genetics, the one that controlled his moods, was making him go insane, thinking that he was not good enough, not sexy enough for any person.
Of course, Draco was too lazy to care too much, and continued to eat as much as he damn well pleased. The tiring workouts made him hungrier, keeping him at the same level of fat in his body, though now surrounded with more muscle fibers. Either way, he was still fit and all the girls thought so, especially with the teased blonde hair and the for-some-reason unstable attractiveness.
So Draco's desire to be more muscular like McLaggen and lean like Potter forced him to once again find himself in the Room of Requirements. Today was a strength training day seeing as yesterday he nearly drowned while swimming in the freezing lake. Today he planned to work on his upper body, trying to reach his ideal body, which so happened to be Cormac McLaggen, the boy who's body he was consequently trying to get out of his mind.
Draco was at the lust stage in his relationship with the boy whom he did not have a relationship with, a stage that seemed to fade ungraciously with most couples. He had realized he had a somewhat crush on McLaggen when he had inadvertently kissed him on the what-used-to-be-a-sofa-and-was-now-a-loveseat loveseat. Well, Draco thought it was inadvertent. In fact, his whole body had been craving it directly under the skin without him knowing it. In fact, he has this inkling of a feeling for years now whenever he saw the lad, though he misdiagnosed it as either gas or a need to take a piss.
So while simultaneously thinking of McLaggen's meaty arms and trying to block out the sensual image of McLaggen's perfectly toned arms, Draco went to work on his first 30 push-ups. Since wizards knew little of the muggle world, they had different types of and different machines to work out with, which will not be described in detail, as the typical reader of this story is a muggle and the most basic description of it would cause a muggle's mind to explode from the sheer awesome of it. The push-up, however, was universally known between muggle, mudblood, wizard and sealion.
While using the wizarding machine that works on his biceps, Draco stared at his arms, wishing his muscle to grow bigger. The more he blasted the muscle, the sorer it got and the samer it stayed. It swelled in size, but to the original size it was yesterday. The results were not appearing fast enough, which caused Draco to work harder than he should, which caused his eventual addiction to wizarding pain medications he would develop when he turned 40.
It was at this moment that Draco would take off all his clothes, and in the fit of narcissism he was known for, as all body builders are known for, he stared at himself in the large mirror that bore around the entire room. As he worked on his pecs and shoulders, abs and glutes, he would usually get an incredibly hard erection at the thought of his naked form once again doing something he considered naughty, though most of the male population was known for doing something of the sort like this. The fact that he could not stop thinking about McLaggen's sweaty body caressing his own did not help with his major horniness. Draco used this increase dose of testosterone, adrenaline and other hormones not to have the greatest self-orgasm ever, but instead to push himself farther from the limit his body crossed ten minutes ago. Instead of touching himself, thrusting his member into his own hand, he touched the machines, thrusting his muscles to near rupture. He was determined to look like the man who made the head of his dick wet with precome.
Draco, though, oblivious to his feelings, did not recognize the correlation between McLaggen and his dick and lied to himself, telling him that the McLaggen made the muscles go stronger. Which was true, in a sense. But there was one step more to the equation. McLaggen made the dick go, which then made the muscles work.
And while he had his subconscious thoughts of touching McLaggen's dick with his own, the real McLaggen appeared, in the same image Draco conjured up for himself, shirtless and sweaty in all his glory, as if the Room had read his mind and gave into his heart's desires. Draco, immediately embarrassed by the body which he did not need to hide, quickly dropped the machinery he was working with and grabbed the shorts to hide his glory/shame.
"You've got some nice stuff that you're working with," McLaggen complimented erotically.
Not taking the hint, Draco said, "Thanks, but I think it comes with the school."
"I was talking about your dick," Cormac said, as if he had not been any more clearer in the sexy, sly half-smile he so obviously bore when he was making the first comment.
Draco blushed, which was extremely evident seeing as he was not wearing any clothes and he had some of the palest skin in a British school, as Cormac continued talking. "I'm not surprised to see you here. As I was walking towards my usual workout room, I asked for a room filled with the guy I've been thinking about all week. And he appeared in the same exact way I've been thinking of him."
"For a pervert, you seem a lot like me," Draco said, very uncomfortable with his own sexuality.
"Is that why you kissed me? Because I am so much like you, you narcissistic fuck? Ooh, that actually does sound pretty fucking good. A narcissistic fuck. Care to join me?" Cormac asked, as he dropped his shorts.
Draco stared at the swinging dick and low-hanging balls, happy to know that they looked exactly as he imagined them to be, though still not completely hard yet. Realizing he had been staring at Cormac's naked form for the past 20 seconds, he not-so-suavely tried to cover his shame up by muttering, "Fucking pervert," grabbing his clothes and leaving as fast as he could possibly go while still being able to stare at his body, so quite slow in fact, not realizing that he was as much of a "fucking pervert" as Cormac was.
