Page 22 of The Titan and the Trainer

Julian: I am joking of course; I don’t want you just for sex; I want all of you, ditsy trainer and all…

Nice, thought Callum.

The final message of the four was the most welcome, though.

Julian: I’m happy you are free today with no plans. I’m going to assume you’ll be awake by 11 am. See you then!

What? See me, see me where? he wondered. There were no details about meeting up. Had he forgotten to type it maybe, or thought he already had…? Callum was confused.

He re-read the previous messages. He hadn’t missed anything.

He typed a response:-

Callum: Hey HBSFMM (you know what it means!) – where are you seeing me – I’m confused? I’m awake, yes, but I’m not sure what the plan is? Did I miss something?!

He sent the message. He could see the ticks showing it was delivered, then they immediately went blue, so he knew Julian had seen it and read it.

He waited expectantly, holding his breath, but no flashing dots indicating that a reply was being typed. No response came through. A bit odd, he thought. He hovered over the idea of just calling him but stopped himself.

He got out of bed and jumped into the shower, ignoring his erection, still slightly intrigued by both Julian’s message and the lack of a message back.

***

At the same moment, across the bridge, Julian was looking out of his apartment window at the waking city.

Callum’s last message came through; he read it and grabbed his grey hoodie.

He texted Markus and he didn't take the armoured G-Wagon. Today, normality. This was reckless; this wasn’t the normal Julian, and he loved it.

He took the elevator down to the lobby and walked out of his building alone, wearing a baseball cap pulled low, plain grey hoodie and blue jeans, blending perfectly into the Sunday morning joggers and coffee-runners.

He hailed a yellow cab, something he hadn't done in a decade, and gave an address in Bushwick he’d looked up from Callum’s employee record. He felt excited. The prospect of seeing Callum in his own surroundings both terrified and excited him.

He was doing random impromptu things. He never did that, but it somehow felt great. It felt young and fresh. Just going, it was irrational and unlike him. This was not typical Julian Newman. This man was taking years off him. He smiled at his own excitement.

But mainly, he just couldn’t wait to see Cal’s face again.

***

Callum sat on the steps of the fire escape outside his Bushwick apartment. The morning was chilly, and he hugged the remnants of the large mug of coffee he was finishing, for extra warmth. The metal of the fire escape was cold through his thin sweats, but he liked to sit here and just take in the neighbourhood as it was waking up for the day.

He was about to head inside and start his Sunday chores when a yellow street cab pulled up to the curb of his red-brick building. A large familiar figure stepped out and looked up. It looked like Julian, but it couldn’t be. The guy was in a hoodie and wearing a cap. What the hell? It was Julian!

He’d just turned up unannounced outside his apartment!

Julian’s eyes searched the building. Where would Apt. 12 be? he wondered… but his question was quickly answered when he spied Callum staring down at him from the fire escape, mug of coffee in one hand and a face full of surprise.

Callum indicated he would come down and pointed Julian to where the entrance was. Callum’s heart was pounding. He just turned up. That’s unexpected. The state of his flat, he would have tidied up. Why has he come here? A million questions filled his head, so much so, he almost fell down the stairs in his haste.

He took a big breath, stepped outside, and met Julian on the sidewalk. Callum took in Julian’s clothes. He looked good in simple jeans, a hoodie, and a cap. He looked the same age as Callum, and really hot.

“You're here,” Callum said breathlessly. “Julian, what are you doing here?”

“Surprise!” Julian said, taking a step closer, ignoring a group of teenagers skating past, giving him a quick kiss, followed by a manly hug. Callum wasn’t expecting this on the street, his arms poking out hilariously, coffee spilling on the sidewalk.

The hug was nice. In fact, it was more than nice. Callum went quickly from shocked and surprised, to delighted in one split second. He did not pass ‘Go’; he did not collect £200…

“Shouldn’t you have arrived on a white horse, or in a white stretch limo? Have you come to rescue me like Vivian Ward?”