Brian: Taking Courage - 31. Party Time

Russ Kahn’s party was being held in a former Victorian warehouse that had been turned into an event space. It was essentially a well-appointed blank canvas. Neither Gordon nor Brian had heard of it and Ares had never done a job there, it was more often used for product launches and weddings. It wasn’t huge, but Russ’ parties were regular events for smaller groups of people rather than him having one big, messy annual bash.

Ares was providing the usual site security along with the fancier ones, so guys in regular gear on the door, plus the jockstrap brigade inside. Gordon and Brain had had a final meeting with the event co-ordinator (or party planner as Gordon gleefully referred to him).

It was pretty much the same as any other event, Gordon and Brian going over last-minute logistics with the event co-ordinator, except that he was in a suit whilst the other two men were in sweat-pants, t-shirts and very little else. Then it was time to go to the mess room to get ready. The regular grunts, in regulation Ares polo-shirts and black chinos, were stood chatting, just the run up to another working evening.

Warren was sitting wearing only a pair of shorts and his boots, his torso admirably hairy and well-muscled. Kyle and Arnie were both still in ragged t-shirts and sweats, the tattoo on Kyle’s arm making Brian intrigued as to what was underneath. Olaf was bending over, fastening his boots, giving them a perfect view of his bum, crack and all! Then he turned at greeted them; Olaf was tall, slim and blonde, his skin a golden colour and hairless. His face wasn’t particularly memorable, barring a fine smile.

With a comment of, it’s getting time, Kyle stripped off his t-shirt and sweats, revealing an impressive sleeve and shoulder piece, and one thigh covered in tattoos to match. Gordon nodded at him and said, impressive. Kyle gave a gap-toothed smiled and said he’d got the next piece lined up soon. Arnie was remarkably broad and thick set, with tattoos that were rather random. As the six of them lined up, they got wolf whistles and grins from the other grunts, but it was all good-natured.

Warren grinned, “This place better be warm, I can already feel a breeze around my cheeks.”

The others laughed, Arnie shrugged, “Don’t know about that. If it’s cold, it’ll freeze yer balls and shrink yer dick, less worry about showing embarrassing stuff off.”

“Speak for yourself.”

Whilst Gordon and Brian wore their special jocks that left little to the imagination, the other four were in more standard black jocks, presenting four well-filled bulges that were pleasantly suggestive rather than explicit.

Kyle eyed Gordon and Brian’s crotches, “Nice gear, boss”, and grinned.

Brian raised an eyebrow, “Don’t get too cocky, we might make it regulation next time”, and the four men laughed.

Gordon returned to being business-like, “We’re here to keep an eye on things, the usual. I don’t need to tell you your jobs.” The four nodded. “As regards these fancy costumes, it’s strictly look and don’t touch. If anyone gets too close, the usual form but polite. No special favours, no disappearing round the back for a quickie, no matter how tempting.”

There was a dry laugh, with “As if” from Warren.

“Ok. And no tips.”

Brian brought up the issue that might come up, “The client is a friend of ours, a close friend. He’s also the one paying the bills, so Gordon and I might get a bit friendly with him, but that’s not licence for the rest of the guests, and we plan to try and keep things professional.”

Arnie gave a comic leer, “Exactly how close boss?” The others sniggered.

Gordon looked at Brian who shrugged, “Yea, that close. He’s what you might call a friend with benefits.” Arnie whistled and the others stared.

“But that’s in private. This is not a knocking shop, we’re decorative not functional. Right.”

“Decorative, yeah, right”, Warren gave a half twirl, as if a model.

Gordon looked at his watch, “Right, boys. Show time.”

The entrance hall was a now all dramatic lighting and music. There were tables for drinks, and waiters lined up. They were all young and personable, wearing figure-hugging black shorts and aprons. Russ had wanted naked bums, but the caterer had given a firm no to that; Brian suspected that Russ would be looking for a more amenable caterer in the future. There were two other rooms; a dance floor, where there was to be entertainment that Brian understood was to be highly salacious, and a quieter break-out one that led to the terrace where smoking was permitted.

The six of them showing off would be in the entrance hall, those in uniform were on the door and outside, doing actual security work. Those in jocks were to look impressive and, Brian supposed, if you liked your guys decently built, they were. Gordon was the slimmest with Olaf next, the other four were distinctly burly and muscle-bound. All seemed to be packing, unless some were padding things, but Brian didn’t think any were that vain. Russ greeted them, gave Gordon and Brian a swift kiss each and pat on the naked bum, which caused a grin in the other four. And they were off.

The guests were largely men in their 30s and 40s, some alone, others with younger, prettier partners. Brian idly wondered whether Russ’ parties were only all-male or whether women were ever guests or entertainment. He rather suspected not. Were these men all gay or, more likely, simply willing to take free entertainment when offered. Most of the men were in casual wear, shirt and slacks, no glitter here or gold hot pants.

Most knew each other and groups clustered with drinks, Russ greeted guests and then circulated. It was all very decorous and civilised. Wait till later, Brian thought, when folk start to get well-oiled.

It was just as boring in a jock as in uniform. Brian watched the guests, enjoying behaviours and working out who was with whom, and who wanted to be. The guests weren’t all business high-ups, Brian knew from chatting with Russ that there were those with ideas to sell, those whom he thought deserved some support. So, some people were working the room, others seemed to draw men by magnetic attraction.

Their semi-naked forms came in for some comment, sometimes made in front of them as if they were deaf and dumb, sometimes suggestively direct. Brian was with Warren and Arnie, and across the room Gordon was with Olaf and Kyle. Each group of three chatted idly, passing the time whilst keeping watch and supposedly looking the part, whatever that was.

“How are you doing?” Russ had a broad smile on his face and a glass in his hand.

Brian shrugged, “I’ve had a few folk asking when the show starts.”

Russ rolled his eyes, “Some of the guests were enquiring if I’d hired stripper-grams or something”, he gave a naughty smile. “Perhaps, we should crank up the music and get you to give us a show.”

Brian smiled, “Trust me, you don’t want to do that, I have no sense of time or rhythm.”

Russ shook his head, “Any other problems?”

“Couple of guys wanted Olaf to give them a private show.”

Russ’ eyes danced, “No deal?”

“Alas no, his girlfriend wouldn’t have approved.”

“Let me know if it gets a problem.”

Brian shrugged, “All reasonably civilised at the moment.”

Russ drifted off to talk to clients but just as he turned to go, he whispered, “You know, having you both like that gives me ideas.” The problem was that Brian found staring across at Gordon gave him ideas too.

“Guv’nor.” Brian turned enquiringly to Warren.

“What Mr Kahn was saying about strippers and that. Well, Nathan’s kid brother does a bit of stripping though Nathan pretends not.” Warren smiled, amused at the attitude.

Nathan was one of the regulars, but he was definitely not up for taking his clothes off, serious and a bit uptight, having a stripper for a brother might not work for him.

Warren continued, “The kid has done the odd bit of work for us, maybe before you joined.”

“Thanks, definitely an idea to file away for a future occasion.”

When the entertainment started on the dance floor, the entrance hall grew quiet, the show was clearly worth it. If you liked that sort of thing. Brian gathered from Russ that they were strippers who went a few steps beyond the usual. Nice, if watching folk doing stuff was your bag.

There was a sprinkling of problems, nothing they couldn’t cope with, though manhandling a reluctant punter whilst wearing just a jock was a skill that they’d have to work on. There were two blokes removed for trying to photograph on their phones, and both were downright objectionable, feeling that they were being hard done by.

Once escorted to the door, they were taken by the outside guys, their names recorded and added to Russ’ blacklist. It made Brian wonder at the mindset, surely these were men in business with some reason to be wanting or receiving Russ Kahn’s support, was that worth jeopardising for a few photos? Apparently so.

"Guv'nor, what you said?" Arnie's approach was tentative.

"About Russ Kahn?"

"You, Gordon and him?"

Brian wiggled his eyebrows, "A couple of times, that's all. But we've done ordinary stuff together, he's been over to Gordon's Dad's studio, and we've been out with him and Toby. You know, meals, drinks and that."

"With your son?" Warren's eyes widened.

Brian rolled his eyes and laughed, "With our clothes on, pervert!"

"Sorry Guv."

"It happens a lot, blokes being mates and a bit more". It was Warren who looked the most curious. "Why, you getting ideas? I should point out, if you do it behind your girlfriend or partner's back, it's still clearly cheating, OK. Gordon and I hunt together. It's part of the deal."

"Isn't it a bit hinky, watching another bloke doing your man. I know I'd feel odd watching me girlfriend with another bloke."

"Different strokes, different blokes", Brian shrugged. "And you might feel different if you were both doing her, or you were doing him as well."

Arnie smiled, "The possibilities are endless."

"What you need is to be on the same wavelength as your other half, full and frank discussion."

Arnie whistled. "Guv, I think the entertainment's over. Fun begins."

Most of the guests departed without a problem. Hardly quietly, the chatter level rose considerably, but without guests needing to be moved on. Some of the guys did get pats on the bum, and a fair number of business cards were proffered, for purposes far removed from business. The guys, luckily, took it all in good humour.

However, at any event there were always the ornery and awkward ones, those a bit too drunk, too horny and ready to hump anything. Brian saw more than a few hard dicks in ways that were less than seductive. After a particularly nasty customer, Warren snorted, "Tempted, boss?"

"Hell no!"

"There's something about a drunken come-on, isn't there", and he chortled.

It wasn't the worst gig, by any chalk. And once it was over, before they had chance to disappear and change, Russ came over followed by two waiters, each carrying bottles. There was a bottle of good whisky, single malt no-less, for each of the jock-strap wearing men, as well as Russ' thanks and apologies for any guest who overstepped the mark.

After a brief, 'see you in a moment' to Russ, Gordon and Brian went downstairs to the mess room with the other guys. They gave the men their thanks and confirmed the de-briefing session at the office on Monday. These weren't usual, but given the unusual nature of the event, Hugh had been keen to make sure they covered everything and got ideas for improving things next time. The guys were in a lively mood, good-humouredly swapping stories as they departed and evidently the ones in jocks hadn't been the only ones to be propositioned.

There had a been a few not on the guest list who had tried to get in. The resulting outrage had caused more amusement than anything else in the guys on the door. Names had duly been taken, and Brian wondered if anything would come of it. Were these genuine, or were there some press guys, sniffing at a possible story. Gordon agreed that they would need to have a thorough discussion with Hugh before any further such events, particularly to clarify their role.

When Gordon and Brian returned to the entrance hall, now minus their jocks (the relief of letting everything hang loose) and just in t-shirt and sweat-pants, Russ was leaning against a wall watching the demounting of decorations and setting. The three had not really discussed what they might do post-party, Gordon and Brian being unsure whether they might get caught up in some sort of issue, whilst Russ might feel obliged to go to an after-party event if invited by hosts he did not want to offend. As it turned out, none of that had happened.

Russ held out his empty glass, "Drink? Or would you care to join me at home? Toby is well taken care of, I presume?"

"He's at my Mum and Dad's and we're not due there until lunch tomorrow. So", Gordon looked over at Brian who waggled his eyebrows, "it looks like a yes."

Despite a potential audience, most of whom were far too busy getting the job of dismounting and disassembling done as swiftly as possible, Russ kissed each man and pushed his hand under their sweat-pants, giving naked flesh an affectionate squeeze.

"Christ, I've been thinking about this all night. That bloody show was the worst, I got rock hard and seriously thought about slipping out and getting you to do me right then."

Brian laughed, "That'd go down well with your business associates, Mr Russ Kahn with his trousers round his ankles and one of the security team's dick up his arse."

Russ' eyes twinkled, "Besides, I thought how much more fun it could be later, at a more leisurely pace."