The days passed, and eventually the morning broke on the day that Kyle and Brad would have to attend their first football meeting. Despite the shrill ring of their mutual alarm clock, Kyle woke up sluggishly, mostly conscious though still curled up in the sheets on his bed, even under that sweat pants and a long-sleeve shirt, when Brad shook him to wake him up.
Kyle only murmured a response until Brad rolled him over the side of the bed, letting him crash on the floor. Kyle screamed as he fell. He sat up, rubbing the back of his head, saying "Ah, jeez criminy son of a..." He looked up at Brad, wearing boxer shorts and a tight muscle shirt. "What in Howl's Moving Castle was that all about, You crazy dumba-"
"Don't you remember what today is?" exclaimed Brad, clearly with the enthusiasm of a morning person.
"Break your roomate's head open day?" he said, clearly with the enthusiasm of a normal person who thinks morning people should die. He looked at the palm of his hand, then rubbing his head again.
"Why don't you just kinda reboot for a second of something. I think You'll get in 3... 2..."
"OH CRAP IT'S FOOTBALL TRYOUT DAY!"
"And 1 (basketball) how good of you to remember."
Kyle stood up and threw his blanket back on his bed. "Well, do you think our hair-brained scheme has actually worked?"
Brad laughed a little as Kyle stepped onto and over his bed to get close to him. "Well, I don't know about you, but check this out!"
Brad took off his A-shirt (note: also called a wifebeater) over his head to show off his muscled midsection. His pecs bulged from underneath strong shoulders and between two large, perfectly round biceps. They pulsed a gentle heave as he took a breath in, then out. Brad ran his index finger from his collar bown down the middle of one of his chest muscles, then ticked as it moved down each ab... tick slide over the first... tick slide over the second... tick slide over the third, and stopped at that fourth abdominal muscle that angles so sharply downward, his boxers a little jauntily crooked hugging his hips.
Kyle was staring. Though Brad visibly enjoyed the attention, Kyle shook his head out of it and just mumbled something about it. He turned and walked away, in the first of many actions in muscle memory for getting ready.
"Hey, don't leave so fast there!"
Kyle turned around.
"Come on, I showed you what I got. Now you gotta show me you! I mean, I can't exactly guess what you got underneath a sweatsuit, can I?"
Kyle bit his lower lip. He walked, head lowered back to where Brad was standing. In all honesty, Kyle didn't remember what his own body looked like; he had spent all of his time noticing Brad's improvement and just figuring he was doing as well. Of course, you have some idea what you look like, so it wasn't as much a surprise to Kyle as it was to Brad when he took off the long-sleeved shirt and...
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