14 Hylas Meets Natural Fitness
‘I’m getting nervous.’
‘No need.’ Fidel removed his clothes and locked them in the car.
‘You're naked! I thought it was a joke.’
‘No joke. To preserve our Gymnasium’s unique image, it’s company policy that staff never wear clothes inside, even if off duty. Strangely enough, it also prevents recognition when were outside.’ He slid his pass card into a slot and led the way to a green, padded door that opened into a green-carpeted stairway, at the top of which another security door guarded the slick, modern reception area. Two men in business suits were sitting talking with their heads close together, as if afraid of being overheard. They looked up when the Fidel and Hylas entered.
‘Gidday, Fidel,’ one said with a genuine smile. The other nodded, clearly pleased to see him.
A lean, fit, pale and rangy man in his late twenties with thick, wiry, dark red hair on head, chin and groin, entered through the door behind the desk. ‘What're you doing here Fidel? You’re not on till tonight.’
‘I know, Hal. Is Arnold in the office?’
‘Will be in about ten minutes when his session ends. Who’s your handsome friend?’
‘My brother.’
‘Pull the other, it’s made of rubber.’ He grinned and stood aside as Fidel and Hylas entered the office.
‘Lucky you told me about what you guys don’t wear or I’d have looked even more gormless than usual. He’s not what I expected—obviously fit and healthy, but I thought fitness experts had to have bulging shoulders and biceps, six or eight-pack abs and thighs like tree trunks. He looks ordinary.’
‘That's the secret of our success.’
‘Yeah…makes sense.’ Hylas looked around in surprise. ‘After the glamorous reception area this seems bleak.’ The room boasted a vinyl floor, two practical desks, a wall of TV monitors, shelves filled with manuals and books, and ten hard-backed chairs around a circular table.
‘This is the nerve centre where we discuss and make decisions. Let’s take a look at what Arnold’s doing.’ Fidel went to a console, flicked a couple of switches and two screens sprang to life showing a group of women dressed in the usual multicolour array of Lycra, doing all the usual things people do in a gymnasium, while a naked man assisted with an apparatus, then demonstrated something, then stood casually while another woman rested a hand on his shoulder while they discussed something on a clipboard. ‘That’s Arnold.’
‘He looks nice. You know, I thought it would look strange to see a naked man with dressed women acting as if it’s normal; but it doesn't, does it? Makes you think.’
‘It does indeed. Especially about the crap we teach our kids.’
‘Do you have jazzercise?’
‘No. We’d get erections with all that swinging, hip thrusting and bouncing up and down. When we explain, women insist they wouldn’t mind, and that's probably true, but they’d certainly tell all their girlfriends and that's the sort of publicity we don’t want.’
‘Makes sense. But do you get erections?’
‘At the beginning I got a few, but I don’t think anyone noticed. The thing is, it’s not a sexy atmosphere. Everyone’s here for fitness, not for sex so there’s no flirting or sexual play that might make you aroused. Also, I don’t find many clients physically attractive, and wouldn’t like to do anything with them, so there’s nothing to stimulate an erection. I simply love feeling my legs brush my balls when I walk, and feeling my cock swing as I move, and the air caressing all the bits that clothes cover and make sweaty. It feels completely natural so I don’t wear clothes anywhere unless it’s cold.’
‘I wonder if I’d be the same.’
‘Probably. Most men feel like that once they’ve got over the initial shyness. It’s liberating because having to hide the fact that we even have genitals, as if they're diseased, really fucks with our brains. And the girls reckon it’s also liberating for them. You watch. They’ll thank Arnold after the session and tell him how grateful they are that he treats them as equals. It was an enormous surprise to discover that every female I've worked with here has been pleasant, affable, and goes out of her way to be agreeable. I asked one why they were like that, and she reckoned it was because the way normal men dress is so sexless, they forget we’re totally different. They look on most men as merely fatter and more boring females. With us, however, they are very aware we are males; physically and mentally different from them, and it brings out an unconscious, sort of primeval respect. It’s a thought, and probably contains a grain of truth.’
The session ended with Arnold looking fresh; the girls sweaty and laughing. They all thanked him and ran off to the changing room while he checked everything and went out. Two minutes later he bounced into the office, perky and alert. On seeing Hylas his face opened into a genuinely friendly smile and he stepped forward to take both the young man’s hands in his.
‘Welcome! I’m not surprised your brother dumped me for you—slim, handsome and young beats old and worn.’ Retaining a light grip on the captive hands Arnold grinned, stepped back slightly as if to admire the clean-shaven, tanned, symmetrical face with eyebrows as dark and thick as his tousled mop of medium length hair, then laughed softly. ‘What are you thinking, Hylas?’
‘That you looked very nice working with those women. We watched on the monitor.’
Arnold dropped Hylas's hands and turned to Fidel. ‘Not only handsome, but a charmer to boot. Are you looking for work? We could do with another body.’
‘I'm not fit enough. Beside you and Fidel I'm a runt. And Fidel says I have to finish school.’
‘An hour a day with me and you’ll be as fit as a god. But of course you must finish school. You could work here part time, perhaps? I've just thought of a job for someone exactly like you.’
‘You’ll have to watch Arnold,’ Fidel laughed. ‘He’ll have you slavering away in the cellars before you realise.’
‘Ignore him, Hylas. Would you like to earn a few dollars?’
‘Yeah! I need to earn something because I don’t want to sponge on Fidel.’
‘Good lad.’ He turned to Fidel. ‘I’ve invited Robert and Bart for a meal before the evening sessions. You must both come so Hylas can meet them and we can discuss the job. Ok? See you at five o'clock.’
‘Thanks, Arnold.’ Fidel gave Arnold an affectionate hug, then led Hylas back to the car.
‘He’s really nice, but what did he mean by….’
‘Let’s not discuss anything here. The whole place is mined with security cameras, so private conversations must wait for privacy.’
They took Hylas's belongings from the car and carried them up the fire escape; four flights of featureless concrete stairs sandwiched between two fireproof concrete walls. The flat roof, surrounded by a metre-high parapet, was home to a large array of solar panels that blocked the view to the south. Straight ahead, a small flat-roofed dwelling had been constructed against the eastern parapet. Ochre-stuccoed walls, a vine-covered pergola shading two patio chairs and a table, windows covered with wrought iron security screens, heavy wooden door, roof edged with terracotta tiles, window box sprouting red geraniums, and a row of pot plants lining the ‘path’ to the door, gave the impression it had been lifted from a Mediterranean tourist brochure.
‘Fidel, this is amazing! Did you build it! It’s so romantic!’
‘It’s kitsch as hell. Don’t tell me we share the same bad taste. I just converted an existing concrete block structure and tarted it up a bit. Glad you like it.’
‘What's the rent?’
‘It goes with the job, which has advantages and disadvantages, like being too close to work so I can be called on without notice. Let’s have lunch.’
Inside was neat and clean and just escaped being poky. There wasn’t much space left in the bedroom with its double bed, chair, chest of drawers and a wall of sliding mirror-doors concealing shelves and hanging space. Skylights and a window at the end with a view of the sky and distant hills, increased the illusion of space. The pleasant, uncluttered living area had two easy chairs, a small round dining table and chairs, a basic kitchen, a desk, and shelves for electronics. A window in the end wall behind the cooking area looked over the roofs of similar buildings towards the city.
While Fidel put a meal together, Hylas stowed his gear in the empty half of the mirrored bedroom cupboards; there was plenty of room. He sat on the bed and gazed around in delight. This was a dream come true. He’d escaped his parents and was going to live with someone he liked and admired in a cosy cottage on top of a mountain—well, a brick gymnasium. He flopped back onto the bed and sighed happily.
‘Come and get it or I’ll throw it out.’
Lentils, beans, tofu in batter, a small potato, a raw carrot and two fried eggs tasted delicious, as did the plain yoghurt for dessert.
Hylas sat back and grinned. ‘That was bloody good, Fidel. You’ll have to teach me to cook, I know nothing.’
‘Are you sure you want to stay here? Arnold has a large apartment and I know he’d love to have you. He wouldn’t molest you or anything like that…he’s mostly talk.’ Fidel sounded serious.
Hylas’s dream began to crumble. Was Fidel politely trying to get rid of him? Bravely he smiled across. ‘I reckon it’s wonderful here, but…if you’ve realised it’ll be too crowded then of course I’ll go wherever you suggest.’
‘No, no! I want you to stay, it’s just I realised back in the office that we don’t really know each other that well and I wondered if…now you’ve seen it…the thought of sharing such a small space and…a bed might not be so attractive to you…we could probably squeeze another in…or put a mattress down in the front room…’
‘Fidel! I’ve never slept so well as last night. And yours is a larger bed than mine.’
‘So…you want to stay?’
‘I've never wanted anything so much in my entire life.’
Fidel’s frown dissolved into a wide grin. ‘Me too.’
‘So…when are you going to tell me what happened when you left home?’
‘Come outside and while we’re topping up our tans I’ll answer some of your questions.’