Chapter 12
‘Something wrong?’ Graham asked, sensing there was something behind Ryan’s frown. He thought Ryan being there had been helpful and clearly what his mum had wanted.
‘Nothing. Just thinking.’ A pause and then: ‘You’re good, aren’t you?’
Graham blushed. ‘I don’t like blowing my own trumpet.’ Although years ago, he’d had a boyfriend who could do just that, and Graham, in his twenties, had tried, but failed. He wasn’t going to tell Ryan that though. He blushed more.
‘But you are. Be proud. Mum was very clear you are one of the best. And you definitely are.’ He stared at Graham for a moment.
There was something behind that look too, but Graham didn’t want to extrapolate where there was nothing materially there. Nothing that Graham hoped it might mean anyway.
‘So,’ Ryan said, ‘the wedding day, what’s that going to be like, you’re choosing outfits for, what everyone?’
‘You, your mum, Dave and your sister, Sophie.’ He frowned, had he got her name right?
‘Correct.’
‘Very doable. I’ve done it before. And I’ve done it for much bigger wedding parties; one included all guests, as it was a themed wedding.’ They were standing in the shop and weren’t shopping. ‘I don’t have to be anywhere. Would you like to…?’ Have a drink? Kiss me? Touch me? Sleep with me? These thoughts and many more whispered through Graham’s mind in anticipation.
‘There’s a café down a side street, independent, does the best coffee and cakes in central London.’
Quite a claim to make. Graham raised his eyebrows. ‘You lead and I’ll follow.’
As Ryan strode ahead, Graham couldn’t help but notice his confident gait and the way his designer hoodie clung to his back and accentuated his muscles, his designer jeans too, were cut perfectly to accentuate his pert, muscular behind, and impressively thick thighs. They combined to do things to Graham he’d not felt in a long time. You lead and I’ll follow – just the thought of Ryan doing that somewhere more intimate, more private, more undressed, had lust and desire rushing south, tightening Graham’s underwear as he stiffened.
Ryan turned a few times, checking Graham was keeping up.
He was, he didn’t want to deprive himself of that vision walking ahead.
At the café, a small place, on a side street off Oxford Street, Graham sat at a table and Ryan ordered.
Leaning to one side, so he could see him, Graham watched Ryan standing in the queue. Arms folded confidently. Legs wide apart. He held himself like a man who knew what he was doing. Who didn’t apologise for who he was. Knew what he stood for. Which Graham found confusing, since if Ryan was attracted to men, why wasn’t he out?
Sexuality was complex, fluid and very personal, and not everyone was as confident and sure as Graham had been when he came out as gay at sixteen.
Ryan sat, handed Graham his coffee. ‘Your grandma bit, I thought that was interesting. Mum’s always on about not looking like mutton dressed as lamb. I think Dave must have picked up on that too.’
‘It’s common. People see what young people are wearing, as they themselves reach forty, fifty, and the shops don’t seem to cater for them. But they do. It’s a matter of choosing which bits you can and can’t wear.’
‘Like what?’
‘Like you have to worry about that!’ Graham sat back in his chair, briefly looking Ryan up and down.
‘I’m twenty-eight, and anyway, you’re hardly old.’
‘I’m not eighteen.’ Thirty-three, and cantering his way towards forty, the five years between him and Ryan seemed to make all the difference. Although when they were both in their forties, he reckoned it would be less noticeable. Why had he thought that?
‘Good,’ Ryan said, looked away, wiped his lip from the foam off his coffee. That had obviously made him feel awkward.
‘Good, why?’ Graham asked, resting his elbows on the table, leaning forwards. If this was a thing, Graham was going to lean into it, physically and emotionally. Really see what made Ryan tick.
Ryan shook his head. ‘Nothing.’ He blew out air, looked away.
‘You don’t know what I looked like at eighteen.’
‘I’m pretty sure you wouldn’t look like you do now. And all I was saying is, now, you look…well, I think you look good, and I can’t imagine eighteen-year-old you looked better. As confident. Sure, of what you do.’
‘True.’ There was definitely something going on here, Graham knew.
‘How long did you know your grandma?’ Ryan asked, clearly wanting to change the subject.
Never. She had died by the time Graham was three. No grandad either. Nan and his mum had fallen out over something, he never got the details from his mum. So, she wasn’t in his life much. Not that he could remember. Nearest he’d got was finding a photo of a white-haired woman in a matching twinset and pearls, tightly permed hair, big glasses, asking his mum who it was, and her replying it was his nan, when she was about forty-five.
Graham made an awkward face. He sometimes embellished to make a point to clients. He didn’t see it as lying. ‘It’s a long time ago. I just remember her wearing clothes that made her look decades older. By forty, she looked like a little old lady.’
Ryan nodded. ‘Like you said, fifty isn’t what fifty was. Mum’ll be that soon.’
Grateful for the change of subject, Graham asked, ‘How old is she? I researched online and there’s loads of pieces about if she’s had work done or not, and a few different years of birth. But nothing definitive.’
‘I could tell you, but I’d have to kill you afterwards,’ Ryan said with a smile, finishing his coffee. ‘Another?’
‘My round. Same again?’ Graham stood.
Ryan nodded.
As he ordered their drinks, Graham realised Ryan was very protective, caring, of his mum, which was why he’d been so resistant of her not so new relationship. But anyone could see Dave was harmless, kind, and clearly doted on Julia. As Graham returned with their drinks, he told Ryan this.
Ryan nodded, resting his large forearms on the table, sleeves rolled up.
Graham wanted to touch them, but couldn’t. Didn’t. Mustn’t. He was waiting for a sign from Ryan, who he hoped would take charge, lead the way, and then Graham would follow gladly, eagerly, hungrily perhaps…
Ryan was saying, ‘He is. Dave, I mean. But she’s not been with anyone else since Dad. I can’t help but wonder if she’s settled too quickly. If you put Dad and Dave side by side…’ He shook his head. ‘There’s no comparison.’
‘Maybe that’s the point. Dave is entirely benign. I can tell.’
‘Yeah. I just don’t want her getting divorced again. I don’t think she’d cope with it.’
‘I know she would.’
Ryan sat up. ‘So, you think she’s heading that way?’
Graham shook his head. ‘No. But I know your mum well enough to be sure she’s strong enough to cope with whatever life throws at her. You must see that. You know her better than I do.’
‘She is very strong. Seemed to sail through the divorce. Seemed to. She said it was a relief actually.’
‘So, divorce isn’t always bad. And your dad, he’s happy now, with Matt?’
‘He is. Matt’s twenty-eight.’
‘Is it the age thing or the fact that Matt’s a man, that bothers you most?’ Graham asked. He’d noticed, every time Ryan mentioned his dad and his husband an expression of awkwardness crossed his face.
Ryan looked out of the window, checked the time. ‘It’s late. Another day when I’ve skipped the gym. Haven’t been since Monday. I should definitely go today.’
‘I’m a member of one that has a branch nearby. I did it deliberately for when I’m working in the West End, so I can do my gym session before getting home. Because I knew once I was home, I wouldn’t bother going out again to the gym, no way.’ He smiled.
‘How near?’
‘Literally around the corner. Five minutes’ walk.’
Ryan smiled, obviously warming to the idea. ‘I’ve not got anything to wear.’
‘They sell shorts and T-shirts.’
‘Sounds like a lot of hassle.’ Ryan made a face.
‘If you don’t want their overpriced stuff, we can go back to the department store, buy it there, then go.’
‘When do they shut?’
‘Eleven.’
‘At night?’
‘Central London.’ Graham shrugged. ‘I’ve got my swimming shorts in my bag. If you want to swim, buy trunks too.’
‘Trunks?’ Ryan stared at him. ‘You think I wear tiny Speedos?’
Graham didn’t think that. But he was sure as hell imagining it now, as a smile crept across his face. ‘Whatever. Yes, or no?’ He sensed if he pushed it any further, Ryan would go home. He left the silence.
‘Do they sell swimming stuff at the gym? I haven’t been swimming in ages either. What with work and stuff.’
‘Only itsy bitsy teeny tiny Speedos,’ Graham said, wishing Ryan would buy and wear a pair.
Ryan stood. ‘Department store it is then.’ He led them back, where Ryan bought what he needed, and soon they were at the gym.
Graham showed his membership card to the receptionist. ‘I’d like to sign in a guest please.’ He nodded at Ryan who stood to his side, carrying the bag of new clothes.
She pushed a form towards Graham, handed him a pen.
Graham completed the form, then handed it back with the pen.
The receptionist handed them each a towel. ‘The sauna and steam room closes at ten, but everything else is open until eleven. Enjoy.’
Graham led the way as he knew the layout. The changing room had individual booths, with two doors, one to enter from outside and the other side leading to the lockers, pool, steam room and gym.
They discussed which to do first, an assumption they’d follow each other, and agreed some light cardio on the running and rowing machines, then some weights, not too heavy, a swim, then finishing off in the sauna and steam room.
Wearing loose T-shirts and shorts, they went on the running and rowing machines first. Alternating. Graham couldn’t keep his eyes to himself, as he watched dark sweat forming around the neck of Ryan’s T-shirt, in two arcs delineating his pectoral muscles.
Oh shit, maybe this is a bad idea!
The weights were even worse, with Ryan lying on the bench, his T-shirt riding up, revealing a sliver of stomach, and the shorts showing lumps and bumps that Graham couldn’t stop looking at. Graham stood above him, handing him the weights. Ryan’s grunting, breathing, noises as he bench-pressed more than Graham thought he should, were doing things to Graham that had him adjusting himself in his shorts and leaning forwards with the baggy T-shirt covering his groin.
It was Graham’s turn to lay down and bench press the weights. He got himself water from the drinking fountain, grateful of the time away from Ryan for his body to cool down. Content he was okay, he returned, offering Ryan a cup of water.
Graham lay down on his back, looking up, Ryan stood above him, upside down. It reminded Graham of the kiss in that Spiderman film, when the superhero hangs upside down, and the woman he fancies kisses him. He longed for Ryan’s lips against his own.
No.
He concentrated on lifting the weights, until his arms ached.
They changed in individual booths, then showered in their swimming shorts, before swimming in the pool.
Graham couldn’t keep his eyes off Ryan’s body. He was spectacular. Broad-shouldered, well-defined pecs, covered in trimmed hair, it continued over his abs too. His thighs were as thick as Graham had hoped, seeing them in jeans. Although Ryan didn’t wear tiny Speedos, his shorts were slightly too small, tight around the back, showing off a muscular behind, two globes, one for each butt cheek. The front of the shorts too, Graham saw, in snatched peeks as they walked to the pool, then later when they moved between the sauna and steam room, the cold plunge pool and back to the swimming pool, was a little too tight. The lumps and bumps showed that Ryan was a large man all over.
Graham kept returning to the cold showers and freezing plunge pool more than normal to get rid of the semi he found himself walking around with.
They talked about TV, music, clothes, where they lived, casual small talk and Graham found it easy. The silences weren’t awkward and after what felt like twenty minutes, they were dressed and thanking the receptionist.
Somehow it was nine o’clock. Graham’s stomach rumbled. ‘Are you hungry? I am.’ And horny. The gym always seemed to do that to him, Graham found. It was something to do with feel good hormones, and often when he arrived home he’d relieve the tension, alone on his bed, otherwise he’d have blue balls or a semi, all evening.
‘My treat,’ Ryan said, relaxed, and as if there was no other option.
Whatever had been making Ryan uptight before had shifted. Maybe it was just hanging out together. Maybe it was that Graham had deliberately not flirted, after all Ryan hadn’t indicated he was interested. Maybe it was simply being two friends chilling out together. But Graham had been on this earth long enough to sense when there was something else going on, underneath. But he dare not push it, for fear of scaring Ryan off, or ruining what could be a good friendship if Ryan wasn’t interested.