Ralph: Breaking free - 13. Shirts, sociability and well-filled jockstraps

If it hadn’t been for the fact that they loved football practice, Ralph didn’t think he would have got the twins out of the house on Saturday morning. There were serious tantrums. It was not so much because Ralph having to work on Saturday evening meant they had to stay with their Mother, but it was more that they were stuck with Therese’s tea party. This was pronounced lame, and not what they wanted.

Ralph ended up reading the riot act, behave or they wouldn’t get to the Rec on Sunday and picnic with Nolan. That caused one of their sudden volte-faces and they became nice as pie. And determined to find out if Nolan was Ralph’s boyfriend.

Ralph dropped them off at football practice and waved to Nolan who was busy dealing with a posse of parents. The panic was still there, being seen ‘together’ with Nolan, but it was dying down, he was learning to cope and put it behind him. But he still had not worked out how to greet Nolan in public, or even in private. Ralph had not been much of a hugger, with Therese it usually had been a peck on the cheek in public, perhaps on the lips when they were with friends. Was Nolan a hugger, Ralph would have to find out.

Having deposited the girls, Ralph had time. And no plan.

His mind was a blank. The free time was unexpected, he had no idea what to do. He left the car and walked into town, aiming to have coffee and do some useful shopping, for him, for the girls, for the house.

Shopping took longer than he thought; didn’t it always. He had done well, so he rewarded himself with coffee and a home-made (supposedly) ginger biscuit at the coffee bar overlooking the Cathedral Green. He sat outside, enjoying watching the variety of people wandering around, some purposefully and some idly. A couple of young blokes in figure-hugging black trousers and smart shirts caught his attention. At first, he had to admit, because of the way their trousers emphasised their trim figures, but then he noted their brightly stylish shirts. That’s where it hit him, he didn’t really have anything to wear that evening, not smart casual. His shirts were all either boring business, polo-shirt casual or t-shirts. Therese had liked him tidy, sometimes even with a tie, but now he felt something else was called for.

Feeling a bit brave, or a bit crazy, he went into the Italian men’s clothes shop, Primo Uomo. It usually had an eye-catching window display, and he had previous noticed the shirts, often brightly coloured in highly stylised designs. He’d often idly looked in the window, for fun rather than thinking about wearing them himself. He had occasionally ventured in for the odd browse, but nothing more, certainly not to actually buy anything. Today, he marched in decisively. There was a display of shirts and trousers on an island in front of the door, almost creating an abstract sculpture rather than models of people. He paused for a moment; did anyone really wear such colours and designs? Behind the display there were shirts, suits and clothes hung on racks all around the walls. Where on earth to start?

A young man appeared. His light brown hair was straight and gelled back in a distinctive style, and he was wearing white shirt and dark trousers, both slim fitting in a way Ralph would not have dared. In fact, the shop assistant’s trousers were so snug, Ralph wondered where he managed to hide his dick and balls. Stop it, Ralph. Then he smiled, he rarely had thoughts like that without feeling guilty and panicky. But now, there was rather more amusement in the mix.

Ralph explained that he wanted a shirt for an evening event, smart casual, perhaps a bit party. The first few the guy showed him were far too slim-fitting, Ralph didn’t even need to try them on properly to work that out. Finally, he found himself with his shirt off, trying shirts on, a bit self-conscious at the exposure, aware he certainly was not as trim or as toned as the shop assistant. And it had been a mistake to wear an old pair of boxer shorts, everything kept bunching up awkwardly, creating ugly lumps and bumps.

But the guy was deft, unflappable, and charming. Ralph came away with a shirt, shiny, dark blue with lighter blue/green flashes. It looked good and was nothing like he’d ever worn before. In for a penny! The assistant insisted he wear it half open, and he’d certainly never done that before.

By the time he’d left, he also had a more casual shirt, linen this time and in gentle stripes. He planned to wear it tomorrow when they picnicked, assuming the weather collaborated, and he wasn’t bundled up against the cold and wet. Oh, and there were some knickers too. Slim, sexy, white ones, briefer than he usually wore and certainly slimmer than his boxers. The guy had assured Ralph that they were comfortable, and with a grin he said that he wore them. Ralph figured that if he was going to get naked with Nolan again, then something like that might be suitable.

With a shock and a heat flush, he realised that he certainly did want to get naked with Nolan again. It was something that he could admit to himself that he wanted to do it, enjoyed doing it and was moving towards a state of mind where he could admit that. There was still a bit of panic, and the idea of discussing these ideas with his parents caused a bit of anxiety, but it was dealing with his parents that was the issue. Something he had to sort out, somehow. But lots of people had issues like that, it wasn’t just him and his sexuality, was it?

“You’ve been shopping!” Ralph suddenly found himself face to face with Marcus and Emil. Bugger. Well, their last interaction had been low key, but Ralph still got waves of embarrassment at the memory of his strop at the party. But both men were smiling, and Emil was shamelessly peering into Ralph’s bags.

Ralph shrugged, “I’ve been invited to an event tonight. I decided I needed something less boring than my usual shirts.”

“A party frock!”

Ralph showed them.

“Nice. Where’s the party?” Emily cocked an eye at Ralph.

But Marcus tapped his husband, “Give him a chance, Em. Tell you what, we’re about to grab a bite of lunch, how about joining us?”

“Why not?” Why not indeed, they were going to a Turkish place, which was a surprise. It was large, airy, and modern, with friendly staff. Ralph wondered what the girls would make of it, then brought himself up short, he’d need to check the veggie options first.

“I’m doing work for Iverson’s, for their new range of swimwear.”

“Sorry, what do you do, remind me.”

“Websites. Iverson’s is being relaunched and we’re doing a complete overhaul on the website to reflect the new image, with lots of new product lines aimed at gay men,”

“Oh, yes?”

“Oh yes! Swim trunks, thongs, posing pouches, the lot.”

“Wow.”

“Morrie, the guy that owns it, is showing his range at one of Russ Kahn’s parties tonight.”

“I think I’ve heard of Kahn.”

Emil tapped Marcus’ hand, “Course you have, love. Big business noise, significantly single.”

Ralph rolled his eyes, “He hosts business parties with entertainment. Men only.”

“I see.”

“So, I’ve gathered.”

“And you’re going?”

“Lucky you.”

“Well, officially I am there to take photos for the website.”

The rather camp dialogue continued with both Marcus and Emil joking about being included. But that was just banter, they had to collect Tommi from his grandmother’s. Marcus was an estate agent, whilst Emil was in advertising, working mainly from home, and they found more in common than Ralph expected, beyond the trials and tribulations of bringing up children. They agreed they ought to do it again.

----

Morrie was going to Russ Kahn’s event early, to sort out the costuming of the models/waiters. His assistant India was supposed to be doing that, but of course, Morrie couldn’t leave well alone. The venue was a warehouse, early to mid-Victorian by the looks of it, judging by the brickwork. Ralph wanted to nosey round the outside a bit more, but the security guards in front of the building wouldn’t let him.

The security guards outside were in the usual black, a disappointment. The guy on the door took Ralph’s name and immediately knew who he was. The guy introduced himself as Warren and explained that the boss wasn’t around.

Ralph smiled, “Yes, I know, they’re getting married.”

Warren raised an eyebrow and nodded. Ralph had to hand in his phone, and the camera was given a once over and he would have to hand it in afterwards. He’d get it back once Ares’ tech guy had checked it over.

Inside, everything was different; dramatic lighting, tall tables with men gathered round, all manner of ages and dress styles. Ralph would have got away with his usual business gear, but his shirt felt in keeping. The waiters were all trim, attractive young men, some unfeasibly so. Ralph was handed his drink by a man with shoulder-length hair and the most ridiculously well-muscled body complete with six-pack and pronounced bum, highlighted by the thong which slipped between the crack in his buttocks in a most disturbing way.

Before Ralph could photograph anything, Morrie appeared, full of energy and annoyance. India had thrown him out from back-stage and told him to go and socialise. Morrie insisted that there was always something he could do back-stage, and that India was just being a spoilsport. The way he said it, with distinct suggestiveness, made Ralph wonder whether India was trying to prevent their boss from doing more than organise and look. Morrie? Really.

But then Morrie became excited by seeing the waiters wandering around wearing his products, though all Ralph could notice was all the naked flesh and the way the tiny, clingy garments emphasised dicks and balls. Finally, Morrie wandered off to do his job and talk to people, whilst Ralph picked up his camera, trying to banish all these disturbing thoughts.

“Ah, the photographer.”

The speaker was tall and slim with a moustache, a low sexy voice and an admirably trim body. He looked like his photos but was far more magnetic and charming in person.

“Russ Kahn, I presume.”

Kahn smiled, “The same. I am very impressed with Morrie’s style”, he gave a smirk, “and glad you are here to capture the results.”

The security guards inside the event were, as promised, in jock-straps and heavy boots. A strong look, particularly when displayed on bulky, muscled-up men, at least two of whom were heavily tattooed. These certainly weren’t slim models or aspiring actors and were not wearing Morrie’s product line either. Just as Russ Kahn was turning away, Ralph pointed to the nearest security guard, a fearsome-looking bloke with a whole sleeve tattoo and matching thigh. “You know, they ought to be wearing Iverson’s too.”

At that point a waiter glided past wearing a most minimal garment that seemed to be held on by little more than magic. Russ Kahn grinned, “I expect you are right.”

It was a bit like a royal visit, as Russ Kahn gracefully moved on to speak to someone else. Ralph noted how the man worked his way around the room. Plenty of guys asked Ralph what he was doing, some got in the way and a couple got annoyed and had to be escorted out. The security guards might only be in jocks but there were certainly efficient. And sexy too, if you liked the muscly look, with thighs or buttocks to crack walnuts, and a couple certainly had well filled jocks to match. Stop it, Ralph.

By the end of the evening Ralph had even managed to dispense his stock of business cards. You never knew what might come of it, and he kicked himself that he’d not given one to Russ Kahn. But that was the guy’s slick charm, he evaporated before being lumbered.

“This is going to be good”, Morrie had reappeared and was beaming a mega-watt smile.

“What is?”

The lighting changed and the jock-strapped guards got the punters to clear a space in the room and the model/waiters reappeared. Well, assuming that they were models. But it was the nearest thing Ralph came to seeing a catwalk show, and he made sure he got some good shots.

As he watched, Morrie kept up an excited running commentary. The guys in the audience had clearly had a few and the response was generally lively and noisy. There were a couple of boorish cries of “Get ‘em off” but the offenders seemed to be quickly dealt with.

Russ Kahn reappeared, was complimentary about the garments on display and asked if Morrie was happy. Morrie was delighted and started telling Russ Kahn about his plans and the website, which moved into the plans for images of more ordinary folk in extraordinary gear, including Morrie and Ralph. This latter piece of news, Ralph would perhaps rather have kept quiet, but Russ Kahn simply smiled and said what a good idea. Then Morrie came out with it, asking Russ Kahn if he’d do a photo session.

Russ Kahn’s response was to laugh, a real belly laugh, then he gave a wry shrug and said ‘Why not’ which might or might not have been a genuine response. Then he said he might know a couple of the guys from Ares who would as well. Thankfully, Morrie’s rather butterfly brain moved on to the idea that he might supply the outfits for the security guards at the next party.

Ralph kicked himself that he hadn’t thought to organise anything for after the event. It didn’t finish late, but Morrie was needed back-stage to help retrieve all the costumes, at least that’s what the man insisted. Then Ralph gathered, that Morrie was taking India for a celebratory meal.

Ralph felt a bit envious, then kicked himself; Morrie was a client with whom he was friendly, rather than a friend. He needed to get some proper friends. His mind skipped to Nolan, and he wondered what the guy was doing. Just before he drove home, he sent off a quick, light-hearted message to the man.

Just as he was getting into the house, his phone went. It was Nolan.

>So, where are the photographs, don’t I warrant one?

“Sorry. Security took my camera for checking.”

>That’s a bummer, I was looking forward to getting some spicey images.

Ralph laughed, “Have to wait, I’m afraid.”

He got himself a drink with his phone tucked in on his shoulder, he knew he’d regret that later and once more wondered whether he should splash out on some ear buds, would they be worth the expense and the risk of looking stupid?

>Hi, are you still there?

“Just wondering whether I should get some ear buds and whether they’d look too stupid.”

Nolan laughed.

>There speaks a man who plans to strip off down to a thong and have his photo taken.

“Well. It’s for the firm.”

>Oh yes. And your grand statement?

“I nearly dropped round this evening.”

>Is that another statement?

“No, but if I’m being open then I thought…”

>Sorry. It would have been lovely to see you. but not here.

“Is there a problem?”

>Not with you being here so much as my embarrassment at you seeing the flat.

“Why?”

>It’s all I can afford and is shitty and horrible. The landlord wants me out, so is doing his level best to be uncooperative.

“Shit, I’m sorry.”

>Don’t worry. Hearing you is nice, and I’ll see you tomorrow.

“The girls will want to know if you are my boyfriend. Sorry, it’s a bit quick but they’re only kids.”

Nolan laughed.

>No worries. I can cope and yes if it makes life easier. Is that OK with you?”

“Sort of freaks me out, but in a good way. I was looking at the models this evening.”

>Oh yes?

“Well, they were there, right in front of me. And I was thinking about them, in that way. It freaked me out a bit.”

>Even though no-one could hear your thoughts.

“Not the point. But this evening, I was able to laugh at myself too.”

>Good. Very good in fact. And did you come to any conclusion with your ogling?

Ralph laughed, “Yeah. That I’m not fan of a bum you could crack walnuts with”, a snigger from Nolan, “and that I’m an idiot for agreeing to be photographed in something so miniscule.”

>I don’t know. I can think of someone who’d find it sexy.

“Ha. Thanks. And I can’t wait to see you in one.”

The conversation descended into more suggestiveness and whilst they didn’t have phone sex, they came pretty close.