"Oh! Uh, shit...this is awkward," Luke said with a short laugh. He blushed and tensed up on his stool, feeling as if he'd been dropped into one of his anxiety dreams where he showed up for class with no pants on. He actually wasn't wearing pants, but this time it made sense as he'd been participating in the campus's annual Underwear Run when he'd somehow managed to get separated from the group. The sprinting was over and they were all supposed to be meeting up at the bar afterwards, and when Luke saw the shirtless men inside he'd assumed he was in the right spot. Without paying much attention, he'd sauntered up to the bar, ordered a drink, and then promptly noticed the overwhelming number of men around him. Men who were predominantly dressed in leather, or next to nothing at all, staring at him with amused, hungry eyes. Luke finally noticed the older, burly bartender wearing nothing but a leather jockstrap, his stomach dropping at the realization of his mistake. Trotting along with a group of his peers who were also wearing nothing but their underwear had felt fun and exhilarating. Accidentally showing up to a gay bar full of strangers in nothing but his boxers was the opposite. With his trim, athletic build the dark-haired jock knew he had nothing to be ashamed of, but that was part of the problem. Luke was well aware of how handsome he was, especially with nothing but a thin layer of cotton covering his perky rear and meaty package. Glancing furtively around at the heads turning in his direction, he felt like a lone fish surrounded by a group of hungry sharks.
"If you had to show up to a bar in nothing but your shorts, you picked a good one." Luke jumped when the large hand swallowed his shoulder and he turned to see a furry mountain of a man taking up the stool next to him. Like himself, the man was clad in nothing but a pair of shorts, though his appeared to be made of leather instead of cotton. The grinning stranger looked to be at least a few years older, but with his buzzed, thinning hair and rugged build it was hard for Luke to pin down his exact age. Whoever he was, the man had broad, thick shoulders and a beefy slab of a chest lurking beneath a forest of auburn hair. A pair of hulking arms framed in a bulky muscle gut that was bisected by a thick line of fur spilling down from the carpet on his chest, disappearing beneath the leather shorts before flowing out the bottom to coat the man's tree-trunk thighs. "Dave," he said, letting go of Luke's shoulder and extending a hand.
"Uh, Luke." The younger jock blushed when his hand was swallowed in the other man's meaty paw. He tried not to stare, but between Dave's prominent, forested pecs and massive arms he was having a hard time looking away. As someone who constantly shaved to keep his own encroaching forest at bay, Luke didn't know how to process a bar full of men who prided themselves on the very thing he dreaded.
"You can relax, kid," Dave laughed, eyeing the uncomfortable young man. "No one's gonna bite unless you want them to. You're cute, but you're not really these guys' type. Not yet, anyway."
Luke tried to act casual as the man checked him out. He flexed unconsciously, his lean arms tensing and his abs popping beneath the stranger's piercing eyes. Despite having one of the best bodies in his frat house, Luke was feeling increasingly small and insecure in the sea of beefy men around him, an entirely foreign sensation for the athletic young hunk. "Not yet? What's that supposed to mean," he asked, forcing a grin as the burly bartender lumbered over with his drink.
Dave nodded, an approving look in his eyes. "You've got potential," he said, reaching down so that his hand hovered just above Luke's furry thigh. "You just have to stop fighting it."
Luke shivered at the heat radiating from the other man's palm. He'd braced himself for the unwanted touch at his upper thigh, but having Dave's hand teasingly close was somehow worse, especially as the other man zeroed in on his source of dread. Luke's toned legs had been covered in a dense layer since he was barely a teenager, making him an oddity amongst the men in his family. His older brother, dad, cousins, and uncles were all relatively smooth, but he appeared to be headed towards a different destiny. The curly forest had quickly spread up his shins, transitioning from a wispy layer of fuzz to a dark, dense carpet that reached his solid bubble. The chocolate curls seemed to be in a race with his sprouting forearms as a similar layer of hair shot past his elbows to cover his sculpted biceps. Having recently stalled out just below his shoulders, the hair had started flowing in the other direction, coating the backs of his hands in a conspicuous dusting. It trailed up his abs to his chest as well, but Luke always kept his torso smooth. He could deal with having hairy arms and legs, that felt normal to him, but he wouldn't submit to a furry chest and stomach like the men around him. The rest of the guys in the frat were smooth and toned, and they already made fun of him for his hairy ass. He could only imagine what they'd say if he had tufts of chest hair sticking out through his polo. "Nah, I think I'm...I'm good..." he stammered, blushing as he felt his cock suddenly twitch. It was an unexpected reaction to picturing himself covered in hair while a strange man's hand hovered inches from his dick, and he quickly tried to regain his composure. With nothing on but his boxers, there'd be no hiding it if he suddenly threw a bone in the middle of the bar.
"Oh, you're definitely that," Dave laughed, lifting his hand and resting it on the young jock's hairy, striated forearm. "But you could be even better."
Luke took a long, slow sip of his drink to hide the fact that he didn't know how to respond. It was clear Dave was hitting on him. Given his impressive body and charming, boy-next-door face Luke was used to having guys make passes, and though he was straight, it never bothered him. He was always flattered, enjoying the attention even if he didn't reciprocate it, and he wasn't above some playful flirting as long as it was clear where everyone stood. Now, things were a bit muddy. He was well into sipping his drink before he realized he hadn't pulled his arm out from under Dave's hand, and the twitching in his boxers had erupted into full throbbing. He was stuck. Even if he wanted to leave, Luke couldn't get up from his stool without exposing his tented boxers to the entire bar, let alone walk outside and do the same to the busy street. He told himself he was just worked up. He'd spent the day running around in nothing but his underwear with a bunch of fit, attractive young women who were similarly undressed. It was only natural that he'd be extra horny. The fact that he didn't get hard until a hairy brute of a man touched him was just a fluke of bad timing.
"Looks like your body agrees with me at least," Dave said, his stubble-covered cheeks stretching into a wide grin as he discretely ran his eyes down Luke's torso to the blushing jock's tented boxers.
Luke shifted on the stool, scooting in closer to the bar in an attempt to find cover. "Sorry about that. Guess running around in your underwear all day will do that," he said, his casual tone betrayed by his burning, crimson face.
"That's one thing you'll never have to apologize for around here." Dave reached down again, this time letting his hand rest heavily on Luke's muscled thigh. He gave it a squeeze, dancing his fingers through the silky fur and pushing the boxers up the younger man's leg until his thick fingers brushed against Luke's balls. "But I wasn't talking about your dick. I was talking about that," he said, nodding towards Luke's chest.
