Chapter 17 - Boredroom Antics
The boardroom of Vance Global felt like a freezer. Julian was cold, which was very unusual for him, his body running warm most of the time. He made a mental note to speak to Kerry about it. There was something wrong with the air-con in this room.
Outside, the sun was shining on the skyscrapers of Midtown, but inside, the thin, recycled air seemed stale and cold. Stuck inside today: he wanted to be outside, maybe in a park somewhere, with a certain physical trainer. He was thoroughly distracted.
Julian sat at the head of the forty-foot, highly polished mahogany table, surrounded by six of his analysts, three of his CFOs, a delegation of twenty-seven visitors and the ever-watchful Kerry, his Exec. Assistant, overseeing the event.
He just couldn’t stop thinking about Callum, pining for him like some starry-eyed teenager. Glad for the park stopover but frustrated he couldn’t even kiss or touch him.
Callum had looked great in his gear today.
Actually, he modified that thought: Callum looks good in anything, and even better out of it.
He felt a swelling start in his underwear; he was getting horny in the middle of a business meeting.
Not good. He refocused and tried to immerse himself in ‘fluctuating differentials in market forces and the impact on benefits realisation’.
***
Across town, Callum had just arrived at The Iron Works.
As he walked up to the entrance, any pride he should have felt about opening a gym with his business partner Jack was diminished by the dilapidated state of the building.
This was a source of enormous frustration to him.
“Damn you to hell, Noah Cott,” he said out loud as he entered the building.
Noah Cott was their landlord and block owner, but despite Callum and Jack’s repeated pleas for help, escalations and even threats, the asshole had done nothing to fix their ongoing issues.
“Hey, Rosie,” he said, as he walked past their receptionist. “All okay today?”
“Morning Cal, it’s dead as a dodo in here this morning.
We don’t have anything in the schedule until that Fit for Life group with the tenth-grade sophomores from Victoria at 2 p.m. The place is empty apart from me.
Jack went off somewhere to buy a new wrench or something.
I actually need to pop out for some copy paper too.
Could you mind the place while I’m gone? ”
“Yes, no problem,” Callum replied. “I need to get showered. You go, lock up and I’ll bolt from inside.” There had been a spate of robberies in the area, so whenever someone was around and they weren’t open, they’d taken to bolting the door from the inside.
“Okay, I’m going right now then. I’ll be about an hour, and I’ll buzz you when I get back,” she said, grabbing her coat and bag. “See you in a bit.”
She left and Callum swung the door firmly shut behind her. He heard her lock it and he pulled the huge bolt across, just to be safe. He then headed for the showers to clean the mud and sweat off his body, hoping he had some clean kit in his locker.
***
Back in what felt like layer-five of corporate purgatory, Julian pulled out his phone.
He had no new messages. He didn’t want to read his emails.
When is Callum going to let me know when he can come over, he wondered?
He flicked through his pictures and realised he didn’t have any of Callum, which made him sad.
He had taken a picture of the framed photo Callum had given him, just so he could look at it whenever he wanted.
He looked at that. His little gesture was worth more to him than any priceless gift he could have been given.
He sighed. Could this day be more boring…
***
Across town, Callum stumbled into the changing rooms. His legs were still a bit wobbly from the bootcamp, and he realised he hadn’t even had breakfast, just a protein shake. He needed real food. He hoped Rosie wouldn’t be too long.
He caught his reflection in the rusty-framed mirror; he looked a fright. Mud streaks across his top, green from the damp grass, the vest clung to his chest like a second skin. He stripped quickly and soon the hot water of the shower washed away the grime.
He dried off, but when he reached into his locker for a change of gear, he realised with a groan that he’d forgotten to restock his kit. There was a clean pile at home he’d laundered and meant to bring today. Great!
He found a white compression vest; at least he had that, along with some old blue running shorts that he’d stopped wearing because the fabric was so thin it annoyed him.
They were onion skins, with cutaway sides that were very high.
The one thing he lacked was clean underwear.
He couldn’t wear these shorts commando; the material was thin and shiny, designed for running marathons.
He fished around behind some old shake bottles and magazines right at the back, and there he found the only clean thing left: an old white jockstrap.
It was one he’d worn occasionally for running, but a long time ago.
The elastic was slightly worn, and the straps a bit threadbare, but it would have to do.
He made a mental note to clear out and refresh his locker.
He pulled the jockstrap on. It felt a bit strange but still fit him.
He pulled the compression vest on and was about to step into the shorts when a rather flirty idea came to his mind.
He took out his phone.
***
In Manhattan, Julian was pretending to listen to one of his CFO’s talk about EBITDA and the important relationship between that and gross revenue, when his phone suddenly vibrated. He saw the message was from Callum. He instantly felt happier.
Callum: Hey MMM – new nickname for you – ‘MY man mountain’ - not decided if I’ll settle on that one yet, so I’m trying it out for size. How is your day going? Are you bored and in need of entertainment…?
This brought a smile to Julian’s face, but aware of the circumstances, he quickly covered his mouth and coughed, reaching to top up his water glass from the previously interesting jug.
He discreetly typed a reply:-
Julian: Hey handsome (I’m sticking with simple). I’m clearly not creative like you…. Yes, I’m really bored and very much in need of entertainment. What do you have in mind? Is it a kitten on a robot vacuum GIF, because if so, I’m SO like over it!
Julian was pleased with his attempt at youth-speak, knowing all about GIFs and kittens on vacuums. Callum would be proud of him…. he hoped.
The response was instant:-
Callum: Would you like a picture of me? [Is it ok to send to you whilst in your meeting? I don’t want to get you in trouble at work or anything?]
Julian smiled to himself, immediately replying.
Julian: Cal, try to remember I own the company… If I get in trouble, it’s only with myself… Yes send me a pic please – I need one for your Contact Card anyway. I was only thinking this morning that I don’t have any nice pictures of you.
Callum: Sending now – in the words of Mr. Doubtfire, brace yourself Effie!
Julian got the Mrs Doubtfire reference straight away, but couldn’t understand the relevance? Whatever is he sending me?
The first picture appeared. It was a beautiful one of Callum in the blue silky shorts and a tight white compression vest top, laid back on a weight bench looking sexily at the camera.
The image had a dark background with a shaft of light falling across his body and face, highlighting his curves and accents.
His arms and chest looked like he’d just worked out, muscles engorged.
The shorts were rather revealing, bulge prominent, especially from that angle.
Mmm, thought Julian, an instant rush of blood to his groin. Before he had time to click ‘Save’ on the photo, the next one arrived.
This one was a similar setting, but Callum was now shirtless, wearing the same skimpy blue shorts, exercising at a lateral pull-down machine.
He was looking directly into the camera, brown eyes intense.
Julian was trying to work out how he took the picture.
It must have been through the support bars of the equipment?
Callum’s shoulders looked huge at full extension, and his chest was pumped, legs spread wide and inviting.
Callum had the steeliest look on his face Julian had seen, causing his stomach to flip. He suddenly felt very warm.
Callum looked stunning. The hunger Julian felt for him at this moment was a constant reminder of how lucky he was to have found him.
He felt aroused and yet humble at the same time.
At this point, Julian had to discreetly adjust himself in his suit, and as he did so, he felt a wetness around his cockhead.
How was he already leaking precum in his shorts?
Julian could barely take his eyes off the two pictures. Even though Callum must have somehow taken these himself, the lighting and angles were very impressive. How had he done this? He’s also an excellent photographer.
The discussion continued in front of him, and he nodded his head as if part of it, making eye contact with a few around the table, just to maintain appearances before replying.
Julian: Wow, just wow Cal. Those pictures are stunning. You look fantastic. You are seriously turning me on here. My dick is leaking in my shorts; I can feel it.
Without any warning, the third picture came through, causing Julian to drop his phone, which created a huge thump in the middle of the meeting. Suddenly, silence; every head around the table instantly turned his way.
“Sorry!” he put his hands up. Red-faced and slightly flustered he bent down to quickly retrieve the phone before anyone rushed to help. He grabbed it and locked the screen.
Things settled, and the meeting resumed.
But even without the picture in front of him, Julian could remember every detail.
It was practically pornographic.