by Lee Quail
“This is it,” Raw said as they leaped out of bed.
Edward pointed at Raw’s naked body. “You have a hard-on too.”
“Must be the company.”
“Thanks for letting me sleep with you.”
“Hey, this is your house. I should thank you. I enjoyed it.”
“Me too.”
They showered and dressed. Edward made toast which they ate quickly, and each drank a glass of juice before leaving for the gym.
Curisco met them in the parking lot.
“Punctuality is always a good sign. Now let’s get to it. I’m gonna time you both. One kilometre. Don’t stop for anything. Anything above 2,64 minutes is bad. Edward, you follow Raw, he knows the route.” he said, smiling at them.
One kilometre! One fucking gruelling kilometre didn’t look far in a car, but on legs, it looked further than he imagined, and rough. Curisco drove behind them, shining a light on the road as they ran. Back at the parking lot of the gym, Curisco stopped the timer.
“Good, good. Just a few seconds in. 2,34 minutes. You both have to come in below 2 minutes. Got it?”
Both nodded, fully aware that jogging created the stamina to go 12 rounds in competition.
Inside the gym, Curisco took them through their routine. Speedball, punching bags and a short sparring session left both men out of breath and adrenalin coursed through their bodies. To end the session, Curisco played music from Rocky as he took them through a stretch routine.
In the shower, Edward said, “Hell, stretching is way-way better than any routine. My body is going to be stiff tomorrow.”
“Don’t worry, at 9 o’clock Curisco’s massage guy is going to rub you down, you’ll be okay.”
“Damn! I thought you’d be giving me the massage.”
“Out of luck, bud. Maybe next time, in private,” Raw said with a certain evil in his eyes.
Within three weeks Edward’s body shaped up. His six-pack tightened, his legs and arms showed muscle and his stamina had increased with an overall 1,78 during the one-kilometre run.
In that time, he noticed that Caine never contacted Raw. If he did, he’d never know. It certainly didn’t look like it because every second or third night, Raw and Edward would spend the night together.
11
Each day made them stronger, and the more they trained, the more powerful and invincible they became. They laughed and cried and hurt and fought and sparred. They negotiated the parking ramps at the Hyde Park Mall, beating their times by ever increasing incremental fractions of seconds.
Their impetus to achieve, to go the extra mile, to break their own best, rested on their bonding. The merging, being together, not apart. They reminisced, anecdote after anecdote about the past, remembering dates and names. Their first time. First date. First car. First major expense. They told stories and relived the events while correcting details and remembering dialogue. They had lessons to teach each other: Life’s not easy, but it costs nothing to take each other as is, to take care of each other and find out if the relationship is real.
Edward laughed about something Raw said in jest: “Who knows, maybe the world will learn from us.”
Throughout all these conversations, Edward couldn’t walk away from the one thing he needed to hear from Raw. Just three magical words. Raw’s silence ate at Edward’s heart.
As the week wore away, and Friday became Saturday, the fairytale continued.
While drinking coffee at Starbucks, Edward brought up a subject that Raw had begun two weeks earlier. Edward didn’t want Raw to feel isolated and alone in his bid to live his dream. For Edward, the blending of their personalities and the continuance of their partnership depended on how far he could broach the subject.
“Last month you wanted to leave your Dad’s gym, you seem at home now. What’s changed?”
Raw raised his brow. He never expected Edward to remember. “Interesting that you mention it. I’m glad you did. I’ve got an appointment with Rawlings at the bank come Monday afternoon.”
But Edward had his own reservations. “Sometimes it’s hard to face reality, but do you think that’s a wise move? It’ll cost a fortune.”
“I have this pregnant lever arch file at home to show how serious I am. I’ve been planning this for two years and hopefully, it’s going to come to fruition tomorrow.”
He explained his business plan, competitors, financial statements, expenses, and profit and loss. He had filed a layout of the boxing studio, and pages of the latest high tech gym equipment.
“How much is this effort going to set you back?
“Seven million.”
“Christ! You sure this Rawlings guy is going to give you the money?”
Raw leaned back. “If he doesn’t, I’ll go elsewhere. Simple as that.”
Edward reached for Raw’s hand across the table. “I don’t mean to pry. I mean, this is all your choice, and Curisco is your father, but don’t you think leaving will break him? Please, don’t get me wrong. Family is family and blood is thicker than water. To put it another way, have you asked yourself if Curisco would do this to you if the roles were reversed?”
“I’ve told him about my intention to leave the gym. I expressed my feelings as truthfully as I could and he was not happy, but I have ambitions. I have dreams like everybody else. He had this dream to start a boxing club and he did. I’m just a wallflower.”
“You’re not just a wallflower. You’re Raw Curisco and you have a good name. All I’m saying is think about this. If this venture fails it will mean bankruptcy for you. I’ve seen you in a bad mood and I tell you I don’t want to be near you if this thing collapses.”
“The whole week we’ve been sure of ourselves. I would have thought that if it fails it would mean bankruptcy for both of us. Not just me.”
Edward gazed at him lovingly. They were an item. Raw had no idea what us really meant. Equality is not sameness. It’s an attitude. The attitude included the expectation that each partner would take care of himself. Individuality. But not according to Raw.
Raw said, “What would you do if you were me? Let’s say you’re tired of fighting. You haven’t got the passion for it anymore. You want out. What would you do?”
“I’d choose to go into another field. Why would I want to continue boxing if I got tired of it? It’s like you’re trading one nightmare for another. All I’m saying is if this doesn’t work you’re in shit.”
Raw drew light circles in the palm of Edward’s hand. “Curisco knows that I can’t be in his shadow forever, Ed. I need this and I’m hoping you’re going to help me. I’m not asking you to betray him. He needs to retire now, spend time with my mother. Take her to Italy for a holiday. Date her again. They’re both wanting, but Curisco doesn’t see that. All he’s interested in is himself and what he can get out of people. You don’t know him. He can be extreme at times.”
“I say you’re making a mistake. Your dad deserves more. Instead of starting your own gym, why don’t you offer to buy him out?”
“I can’t give him more respect than I have. I love him and think the world of him, but you know that saying; ‘The best thing you can give your kids, is wings.’ Maybe I’ll fly, maybe I’ll fall. It doesn’t matter. If I fall I’ll pick myself up again.”
“Are you nervous about Monday?”
“Hell, yes. It’s not often a small time kid walks into a bank and asks for a seven million rand loan.”
“I’ve got the perfect solution for you to forget your nervousness,” Edward said, taking both of Raw’s hands. He leaned across the table for a light kiss
“Sounds like something I’ll enjoy,” Raw said, as their lips met.
“What do you say we go home and make love in broad daylight?” Edward said with a longing gaze.
At Edward’s apartment, even before Raw shut the front door, he pinned Raw against the entrance wall and immersed his tongue inside Raw’s mouth.
When they separated, Edward softly said, “Think about what
I said. Your dad deserves more than what you are about to do to him. Think about it, Raw. Don’t be a fool.” His eyes pleaded with Raw on a different level.
Raw nodded and smiled, “I will. For you I’ll do anything, you know that.”
They made love the entire afternoon, breaking now and then for refreshment and some odd small talk about the weather or the state of the world with suggestions of a quick fix.
At five o’clock, Raw checked the time and leaped from the bed.
“Shit! Shit! Shit!”
“What?”
“The Boxing League’s function. Come on, we have to get ready. The dinner starts at seven. Dad wants us at the gym by six. He’ll have a lot to say about how we conduct ourselves. Come on, let’s get to it. I’ll meet you at the gym in 45 minutes.”
On the way home Raw checked his cell phone messages. Angie had phoned several times, and there were missed calls from Curisco and Caine.
He dialled Angie’s number. “Hey, beautiful.”
“About time you reached out, darling. I wanted to find out if you and Edward are okay.”
Raw smiled. He thought about Edward’s cock in his mouth earlier on in the afternoon. “We’re fantastic.”
“You sound so different and lively and god knows I bet you’re looking better than two weeks back.”
“Come visit. See for yourself.”
“I will. But I have so much on my plate right now.”
He ended the call and punched in Curisco’s number.
“Dad. You left a message.”
Curisco sounded tense. “Where are you? The function starts at seven.”
“I’ll be at the gym in 45. Need to shave, shit and shampoo.”
“Hurry. It’s important we’re on time.”
“Yes, Dad. Don’t worry, we’ll be there.”
He punched Caine’s number. It rang a few seconds before Caine answered.
“Hey, sexy,” Caine said.
“You left a message.”
“Are you going to the League’s banquet?”
“Hell, yes. Have to. Dad’s fretting already?”
“See you there, then.”
“Edward’s coming too. I invited him.”
Caine’s excitement dropped away like petals falling from a flower.
“You never told me you’d invited him. There’s something important I need to talk to you about.”
“Didn’t feel it was necessary. I’ll see you later.”
“Cool, see you at seven.”
Raw and Edward arrived at the gym at the same time and met Curisco in his office.
Curisco stood back, a cup of warm milk in his hand. The League’s signet ring, with two ruby boxing gloves embedded in tiger eye, shining on his small finger.
Raw had dressed in a black three-piece suit with trousers that defined his muscular legs, groin and buttock. It fit perfectly. The black-tie brought out a finesse not often seen and made him look uber handsome.
“You look amazing,” Edward said, straightening his tie.
“You both look amazing,” Curisco said. “Edward, your clothes are – different, but suits you well.”
“Thank you, sir.”
Edward had dressed in a late 1940’s pinstripe tweed suit. It looked heavy, made and worn to keep warm in winter. The summer suits were much lighter with a short jacket, and the pants narrow without pleats or cuffs. A white handkerchief protruded from his jacket pocket. He wore shiny black and white, two-tone Wing Tip shoes.
“Different, I must say,” Curisco added.
“He has a wardrobe full of this stuff, dad.”
“Yes, good dress sense.” Curisco finished his milk. “Now remember no getting drunk. You represent this gym. Don’t forget it. You are to be on your best behaviour at all times.”
“Yes, sir” Raw stood to attention.
The Johannesburg Country Club stood as a foundation and sprawling shrine to a bygone era. Black and white pictures hung from the walls, all depicting the progress of the city from a simple tent village to a sprawling megacity. It showcased past and current members from the Apartheid era right through to democracy. On one wall, pictures of de Klerk and some liberal members of his cabinet, like Piet Koornhof and recording artists like Mimi Coetzee and Ge Korsten. On another wall, Nelson Mandela and Cyril Ramaphosa, Yvonne Chaka Chaka, Miriam Makeba and Hugh Masikela.
Raw left Edward for a few minutes to speak to a couple standing to one side. Edward leaned against the balcony railing, glass of wine cupped between his fingers, watching the guests below as if he were the host. When he straightened up, he turned to see Raw in conversation with the couple whom he’d never met. The man said something and pointed towards Edward. Raw turned and smiled at Edward. A smile that melted Edward’s heart.
In the next instant Raw stood beside him.
“Like what you see?”
“I beg your pardon? Are…are you talking to me?” Edward pretended.
“Do you like what you see? It’s a straightforward question, not that difficult to understand.”
“I…I’m sorry, I don’t follow…”
“That guy says you haven’t taken your eyes off me the whole evening. Is there something wrong? Have I worn the wrong shoes or maybe an odd sock?”
“I’m sorry that I made you feel uncomfortable. Didn’t mean to stare.”
“I thought maybe I dress funny, or my hair is out of shape, could be my hands. I do things with my hands all the time. They do a lot of talking. I wish I could stop them but can’t. They do things on their own. Look, I’m sorry to have bothered you. I’ll get back to my crowd…”
“No! Wait. What’s your name?”
“Raw.”
“Raw, as in roar like a lion?”
“Raw, as in … raw meat.”
Edward winked and fell into the game. “You can have my meat anytime.” Both laughed at their silliness. “You’re making me hot for you by pretending we’ve only just met. I’m terrible with pick-up lines. I’m Edward Canton. Would you like a drink?”
“I’ve finished a glass of juice but I wouldn’t mind another. So, you’re into boxing?” he asked, turning away. As they made for the bar Edward couldn’t keep his eyes off Raw’s ass. Straight men perve over women’s breasts. Edward couldn’t help but perve over the tightness of Raw’s buns. The black trousers he wore stretched tight and Edward could easily reach out and touch his bubble-butt, for a moment only, just a slight finger scrape across his glutes. He had his finger ready, stiff, straight and pointed that’s how close they were.
“Stop staring at my butt,” Raw laughed. It crossed Edward’s mind that many guys stared at his butt. And Raw loved it.
“Hard to ignore,” Edward said.
Groups of people turned and greeted as Raw passed them by, leaving Edward amazed that so many people greeted him.
Raw greeted them with a full, welcoming smile and a nod.
He leaned on the bar counter and called the barman across. “Two Southern Comforts with orange juice. Crushed ice,” he ordered.
“What do you think about all this?” Raw asked.
“It’s cool. When do we eat?” Edward said, looking around for a waiter carrying a plate of food.
“I think dinner starts at eight. Then speeches and awards and then dessert.”
Edward took his drink and as they stepped away from the bar, another man approached. He wore a light grey suit and waved as he drew nearer.
“Raw! Glad I found you. Looked all over.”
Raw smiled and greeted him. “Edward, this is a friend of mine, Caine Smit. He’s with the League. Assistant administrator.”
Caine’s creased eyes bore into Edward. They looked like an empty house, cold and unwelcome.
“Caine,” Edward repeated. “Pleased to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you.”
“All good, I hope.” He pulled Raw away from Edward and spoke in a hushed, serious voice. “I need to have a word with you, in private. It’s serious.”
“S
ure,” Raw said. He turned to Edward. “You don’t mind, I’ll be back in a few.”
Of course, Edward did mind. “Not at all. If you’re not back in seven minutes I’ll come looking.”
Raw and Caine laughed as they walked away from the crowd, leaving Edward standing at the bar.
Caine led Raw into a private room away from the banquet and closed the door.
“What’s so important?” Raw asked.
“Are you two an item now?”
“Yes, but you know that,” Raw said, taking a seat in the plush antique chair.
“I thought you’d be over him.”
“Over? Did you take a good look at Edward? How could it possibly be over? We’ve only just begun.”
“And us? What about us?” Caine asked, pointing to himself.
“What about us?”
“I thought we had something.”
Raw drew in a deep breath. “We’re friends, Caine. You do your thing, I do mine. That’s always been our understanding.”
Caine stared past Raw at the image of Nelson Mandela on the wall behind him.
“Maybe I want more.”
“I can’t give you more. I’m sorry. Is this why you wanted to speak to me?”
“Actually, no. It’s not good news.”
“Good news, bad news, it’s all the same to me.”
“Your dad’s gym is in financial trouble. He has one month before the bank forecloses and puts an end to the operation.”
Raw cocked his head to one side and studied Caine’s face. Looked for the lie in his eyes. “You’re serious.”
“I’ve never lied to you.”
“Jesus!”
“I’m sorry you had to hear this from me.”
“Dad should have said something.”
“He has his pride,” Caine said. “Think he’s hoping for a miracle. I know you want to start out on your own, and maybe this is the right time to get out.”
Raw mumbled, “I don’t know. Dad has a way of making good out of bad things. Where do you fit into this? How did you learn about this?”
“I know this banking consultant, his name is Donovan Bradshaw.”