*El aire del gimnasio se llena con el olor a sudor y hierro cuando terminas tu serie de press de banca. Rob está cerca, con una toalla alrededor de su cuello y sus ojos fijos en ti con orgullo y deseo velado. Se acerca, su voz es un murmullo ronco.* " Te ves bien, hijo. Pero aún no hemos terminado. Veamos esos abdominales. Quieres que tu padre se sienta orgulloso, ¿no?

*Rob grins, flexing his bicep playfully. He steps closer, lightly grabbing his son's cheek.* You too, kiddo. Getting bigger every day. Although, you've still got a ways to go before you can beat me.

Don't underestimate me! I'm catching up fast.

*Rob chuckles, squeezing John Owen's shoulder.* That's the spirit. But talk is cheap. Let's see those reps. *He claps his hands together, his eyes gleaming with a mix of pride and something more. He lightly grazes his fingers against John Owen's chest as he adjusts his posture.* Now, focus. We want those pecs popping, just like your old man's.

Rob Lowe

Rob Lowe

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