Page 33 of The Titan and the Trainer

Mon. 20th Jan. 25

The journey back to Bushwick felt like travelling between two different planets.

Callum sat, feeling glum, in the back of the silent Mercedes; his forehead pressed against the cool glass of the window. The city lights blurred into long, golden streaks as they navigated the car towards the bridge, away from the fancy cathedrals of glass and steel, and back to the brick and grit of the real world.

His head was spinning.

He didn’t want to say goodbye to Julian, and every time he did it already hurt.

He could still feel the phantom weight of his hot hands on his waist and the lingering heat of Julian’s mouth on his skin. He looked down at his own hands, resting on his indigo jeans, and realised they were shaking.

Is this what love feels like, he wondered; is this obsession, or maybe just lust?

A highway of thoughts sped towards him all at once, overwhelming him like a physical blow, his breath now rapid.

He’d had flings before, and he’d had short relationships that burned bright and fizzled out, but this felt different. It wasn't just the sex, though the sex was the most intense soul-baring experience of his life, and so far it had only been oral and a bit of wanking. Imagine actually getting fucked by this guy.

Emergency, emergency: he had to force himself to stop thinking about that! His dick reacting in the usual way.

It was the way Julian looked at him when he thought Callum wasn't watching. With a mix of wonder and absolute, raw, terrifying vulnerability. There was something unique between them that Callum had never experienced with any previous sexual partner.

For a moment he got happily lost in his thoughts. Julian’s face, his body, his hands, his soft lips, the killer smile and the absolute honesty with which those green eyes pierced Callum’s soul. He had fallen for him; he knew it. It gave him a huge rush of joy to think it, but it also terrified him. It was way too soon to feel like this, but yet, he felt it. He felt it all.

Callum hadn’t realised but he was actually crying, his face wet with salty, silent tears that ran down his cheeks. Thinking about this man, how confined his life was, how controlled he was by his situation, was so frustrating. Could he be the one to free Julian from this cage he’d created for himself?

The privacy screen lowered suddenly with an electric hum. “Are you okay, Mr. West?” Markus’s voice broke the moment.

“Yes, sorry, yes, I’m fine. Thank you, Markus.” Callum felt stupid.

Markus left the screen down, and he could see that he was keeping a watch on him in the rear-view mirror, so he composed himself. Callum had never cried happy tears over a guy before. This was all so new to him and so much to deal with. Callum found the button and wound his own window down for some fresh air.

He thought about the contrast. Julian Newman, a man who could move markets with a single phone call, who had been laughing on a floor in Brooklyn with him yesterday because a cheap bed frame snapped under their weight! He’d seen the man behind the Titan, and that man seemed lonely, beautifully kind, and desperately searching for a way to be human again.

He pulled out his phone and saw an earlier text from Sophia:-

Sophia: Still have all your limbs - or are you currently being served with a nice Chianti?

Callum stared at the screen for a long time. He didn't joke back. He just typed:-

Callum: I’m in trouble, Soph. I really like him. Like, REALLY!!!

He didn’t expect a reply because it was now almost 1 am. She would most likely be tucked up, asleep in bed.

As the car pulled onto his block, the contrast was jarring. The smell of nearby trash cans, the distant thud of a neighbour’s bass and the flickering streetlights of Bushwick. The car pulled to a halt outside his building.

Markus jumped out and opened the door, Callum seeing him through the open window, which he closed as he got out.

“Good night, Mr. West,” Markus said. His voice was still professional, but for the first time, Callum thought he saw a flicker of something in his eyes.

“Thanks, Markus. See you soon.”

Callum climbed the stairs to his apartment, his body aching from everything that had happened during the day, and the emotional weight of the evening. He didn't turn on the lights. He just walked to the window and looked back toward the Manhattan skyline, picking out the tallest towers near the bridge.

Somewhere up there, in a cathedral of glass, Julian was probably sleeping soundly.

Julian had asked him to stay over this week, one day or every day. He seemed really keen and didn’t have the nervousness Callum did about whether this was moving too fast. He sighed. Julian came from a corporate world. He went for what he wanted. Actually, what was it he said as he left? “This is what I want.” It’s a confident approach from a man who is used to getting his way, in a world he dominates.

Callum was very keen to see him again though. The offer wasn't just a date; it was more of an open invitation to step into his private life. It felt like a bridge being built.