The Symposium

The Symposium Chapter 03: Mirror Image

This story is a work of fiction. Resemblances to real persons, places or events would be extremely surprising.

Callum noticed Iain was quieter than usual as they sat down to breakfast. He wasn't subdued per se, just... quiet. He asked if everything was ok, he said he was. Callum's own disposition tended towards quiet introspection, he preferred to engage in conversation rather than initiate it. Perhaps that was what he'd noticed, Iain's lack of initiative – the deficit of confab.

Iain felt guilty this morning. Last night Callum had come home and seemed as excited as a puppy. He wouldn't say why but Iain wondered if Callum had met someone. Callum denied this... more or less. He was sure whatever it was would come up eventually. Later, they had talked about working this weekend. Neither were looking forward to it – they were fed up and frustrated and underemployed - it was this talk that was causing Iain guilt.

He was on the precipice of something bigger and better and, in all likelihood, much more satisfying. He felt guilty, like he was stealing success from under Callum's nose. Maybe he should have told his cousin about the Symposium when he had seen the vacancy advertised? Too late now. But Callum had noticed his subdued mood and Iain thought how to resolve it.

Iain bounced up from the table. "Let's go for a run?"

It had been a few months since they last ran, cycled, lifted weights or any such excretion together. Studying and celebrating studying, then exams and celebrating the end of exams, the holidays and celebrating coming back from holidays had curbed their togetherness time.

"Celebrating, a euphemistic phrase meaning pass the stella, vodka, budwiser (boak!) bricardi, disaranno, jack daniels..." Callum said one night back in May.

Iain and Callum occasionally exercised together, but more often trained alone or with their own friends. Callum liked training with Iain though – he was entertaining and set a challenging pace, which paradoxically because otherwise Callum would have set a challenging pace. Both boys were competitive – neither would set out to win', neither liked to loose'. They each kept up with the other.

"Yea, ok." Callum agreed. "Ten miles?" he asked, knowing Iain's routes and distances well.

"If you think you can manage." Iain replied, with a wink.

The boys headed upstairs, Iain opting for a bathroom visit first. Callum closed his door and looked out a vest and shorts. His hand caught the shorts he'd worn yesterday and his penis felt a tingle that his brain resisted. Over boxer-brief underpants, Callum pulled on cotton shorts that were comfy and the vest that was tight enough to show his figure without looking like he was advertising his nipples.

When Callum headed back into the hall he wandered absentmindedly towards Iain's room; the door was open – a sign of Iain's usual respect for privacy and boundaries, i.e. they did not exist. If you've got it flaunt it, even at home – unless mum's visiting in which case put the toilet set up when you tinkle and close the door when you wank.

Callum could see Iain undressing; he was naked below the waist, his curved bottom had the tone of an athlete and his legs were enviously muscled. It was looking into a mirror. Iain pulled his t-shirt off to reveal a broad, smooth back with a mole near the right shoulder. His skin was otherwise clean and smooth, coloured towards a muted bronze rather than pasty British white. Iain pulled on his running shorts without underwear and then a short sleeve t-shirt.

Callum had taken a step away from the door before Iain turned, but Iain could have sworn he'd heard someone just outside his room. Had Callum been watching him? He moved to the door but by the time he was there, Callum was sitting on the top step of the upper landing.

"Ready, slow-poke?" Callum asked.

"On your marks..." Iain replied.

The boys did not race. They didn't even push themselves particularly hard. They kept up a comfortable conversation for 35 minutes, reaching a waypoint along the canal that was a good place to turn back.

"So... you were a bit cagey about what had you high as a kite yesterday?" Iain asked by way of ending a conversation about party political leaders.

"Yea. Suppose I was." Callum said. "Can't really talk about it."

"Have you got a new man in your life or not?" Iain asked, "I need to know if I ought to buy a new hat or not."

"Don't be facetious."

"Don't even know what that means."

"It means not meant to be taken seriously, amusing, frivolous."

"You invested in that vocabulary app then?" Iain said.

A pause. "Don't be facetious." They both said and then laughed.

"I don't have a boyfriend." Callum said. "But I don't wanna talk about it yet."

"No problemo." Iain said and meant it.

Back home, the boys negotiated for first dibs on the shower.

"Ro - sham - bo." said Callum. Paper!

Iain drew rock and sulked a little.

"Typical boy." Callum said. "Generally people think rock is the strongest play to make. Therefore paper is the strongest play to make."

"Whatever, princess." Responded Iain. "But it's squeaky bum time, I've got a thing this afternoon."

"A thing? Is it a big thing?" asked Callum.

"Pervert."

"Other pervert."

"Seriously, as much as I enjoy flirting I want a shower. And I'm not suggesting we share." Iain said.

"Heaven forefend." responded Callum, "I'll jump in the shower. Not be long."

Callum bounced up the stairs and pulled off his top - his trainers were already off and drying in the garden. He pulled a towel from the linen cupboard and put it around his waist, then dropped his shorts and pants and put them all in the linen basket.

Callum considered that he had always been a bit prudish – about his own body at least. He had nothing to hide or be ashamed of but yesterday had set him free. His desire for that Symposium job had loosened his inhibitions. He still held the towel tight as he walked back down the hall to the bathroom.

Callum's mind was swimming with thought about his follow up interview in a few hours. He hung the towel on a peg on the bathroom door and turned the shower on. He turned the temperature down a bit so the water was cool and refreshing. He thought about what Iain had said -did he really call their banter flirting? Was it flirting? Was he reading too much into this? Yes! Probably!

Callum soaped his balls.

Iain watched Callum cross the hall in a towel – which was not like him - change for the better, Iain thought. He waited until Callum closed the bathroom door. Instead he heard the shower start to run and the change in tone as Callum stepped under the water. Iain retrieved a towel for himself, he knew Callum would not be long – he'd been mostly teasing when he cited his time imperative but Callum would respect Iain's need.

Without cause to do so, he peeked into the laundry basket – Callum's t-shirt, underwear and shorts were there. So, Iain pondered, Callum was in the shower with no change of clothes and a reduced attendance to modesty... interesting.

Iain closed and locked the laundry cupboard – probably hadn't been locked in... ever. Iain popped the key in his room then moved to Callum's. The blinds were dropped but not closed - he slid them up so the window was not obscured at all.

He moved to the bathroom, nudged the door open silently and pulled Callum's towel (as well as the hand towels) from the peg. Exit stage left.

Callum turned off the water. He'd turned the water positively cold to curb the enthusiasm of his desperate cock after four days without cumming. Callum stood to drip dry for a moment, his penis returned to its usual handful size.

He exited the shower cubicle and noticed something amiss. His towel was gone. He smiled and shook his head, he could almost hear the childish giggle from the other side of the door.

"I'm not getting my towel back, am I?" he asked.

"Don't even know what you're talking about." Said the voice trembling with barely controlled amusement.

Callum pulled the door open wide with one hand, the other cupping his cock and balls. Iain hadn't seen Callum naked for a long time. Not since they were ten or twelve and fooled around with some other boys who lived on the street. Callum was... Iain suppressed the rest of that thought. It was weird.

Callum moved out of the bathroom with both hands covering his penis – at least until he reached his bedroom door at the front of the house, which Iain had contentiously closed. Callum lifted one hand and Iain caught a sight of his cousin's balls and the root of his penis. Callum moved into his room and just groaned at the window. Through which he was visible to the street out front.

Callum turned back to Iain. "I'd lock the bathroom door if I were you." He said, then winked and nudged the door closed with his toe.

Iain managed to shower without incident. After he towelled his short blonde hair dry, Iain got dressed: tight boxer briefs (to show off his package) with equally snug & short running shorts and a tight t-shirt that showed off his build – both in dark blue. His trainers too were blue and worn without socks. Iain enjoyed the unlikely good weather (unlikely because they lived in Scotland). He thought of a joke his friend Mike had told him: living in Scotland is like watersports sex, you expect to get pissed on.

His next interview was in an hour. He popped upstairs to grab a few things to put in his back then decided to ignore the pretence that he was attending a normal interview. He went back to the hall and chapped on Callum's door.

Callum opened it wearing a pair of jogging bottoms and a loose t-shirt with a neckline that scooped low enough for the few wiry hairs on his chest to be exposed.

"I'm kinda popping out." He said.

"Ah yes. You've got your `thing' to do." Callum replied good naturedly.

"My big thing." Iain batted back.

"Nice inter-conversation continuity reference there." Callum said with a smile.

"I'm `kinda popping out' too." Callum said, with quotation mark fingers when he cited Iain's words.

"Cool, tell me about it later. I gotta run."

At half past one, Callum parked and entered the gym. He wanted to be early – make a good impression. Finn spotted him before he even made it to the reception desk.

"Hey, you're a little early." Finn said. Callum realised he had not noticed the soft Paisley accent before, he like Finn even more. "I'll look after him, Ray." He added to the man behind the desk.

Actually, there was two men at reception today. The desk that Raymond sat behind faced the main entrance, you could walk around either side of it when you came in. Walking right led to the coffee bar, walking left led more directly to the locker room – the concourse behind the desk was almost as big as the foyer in front of it. And the desk itself was an oval, with the long sides facing the entrance or locker room, and gaps at the points of the oval to enter the space between them.

"Come along, Callum," had Finn paused before saying his name? "I'll show you the locker room."

They crossed the space behind the desk; looking left Callum saw into the corridor that had held yesterday's fate, looking right he saw the coffee bar and beyond the glass wall the pool.

"Why don't you pop your stuff in one of the locker's?" Finn said, indicating Callum's satchel with the unnecessary reference and portfolio.

The bank of lockers stretched along the centre of the room. Lockers sat back to back and each row faced a bench. Banks of locker also rested along the walls of the locker room. Many lockers were open and key's were in the lock, once you choose a locker you could lock up and attach the key to your wrist since each was mounted on what resembled a watch strap.

Callum put his satchel in the locker and made to close it.

"Why don't you give the locker room a try." Finn said reasonably. "You'll have to be comfortable in here. Dressing and undressing, yea?"

Callum caught the implication. He decided not to hesitate, not to show reluctance or weakness. He pulled off the loose t-shirt and slipped off his shoes – placing the trainers first and the top on top. Then Callum dropped his jogging bottoms and folded them on top. Now he made to close the locker again.

"Oh, are you really in the spirit of things?" Finn asked, nodding to Callum's boxer briefs.

Callum swallowed hard. He resigned himself with excited reluctance; pushing the underpants down to the floor and stepping out of them. Naked, Callum placed them in the locker and closed it. Finn locked it for him and held onto the key.

"Let me show you around." Finn said.

He walked down the bank of lockers. Maroon indicated executive members. Red indicated an gold membership, yellow indicated silver membership and green indicated basic access membership. Each level gave more access to facilities, functions and attention.

"What does blue mean?" asked Callum.

"Blue?" Finn said, a lapse in conversation as his eyes lifted from crotch (where Callum's dick was not quite soft) to eye level. "Blue is the school. Lord Gower Grammar sends final year kids here. Let's them out of the cage for a while." He smiled sardonically.

Finn led him to the back wall, the one parallel to the one with the entrance to the locker room. Two doors sat on the right angle of the corner. Finn told him one accessed the corridor that looped around the facilities and training rooms and back to the concourse; he opened it, in the distance a startled towel boy (athletic assistant) busied himself after taking in an eyeful.

The other gave access to the sauna. Finn opened this one and led the way inside, Callum was grateful to see it was empty. Directed to sit Finn heard a beep and retried his phone.

"I gotta take care of something, relax here for a bit, I'll be back." Finn spoke quick and left quicker.

Callum had no clothes, no locker key and no towel. Naked and sweating, he sat back... and relaxed.

Iain had been instructed to sit in reception, but didn't for long. Finn arrived less than five minute later and shook his hand.

"Welcome back." Finn said. "Let's take a look around; I don't think you got the chance to see everything last time you were here."

The two men walked towards the training room corridor and passed a badminton session, then took a walk around the weights room and finally entered the machine room, where two men are at work.

"Andy, how's it going?" asked Finn.

"Good. We're just starting our session." The younger man replied.

"What's happened to your shirt?" he asked, pointing to multiple stains that were visible even on the dark blue material that all the personal trainers seemed to wear.

"Sorry, Findlay," Andy responded. "I was fixing one of the rowing machines before we got started, I guess..."

"This is Iain." Interrupted Finn, "He's hoping to join our team today." Finn turned to Iain, "Andy's worked here almost as long as I have. We can't have senior staff working in grease stained shirts. Would you mind lending him yours? Your t-shirt is almost the same shade as what we wear."

Iain listened to the reasonable tone of Finn's voice but saw behind it. It was a power play, but Iain would happily play along.

"No problem." Iain said and, without hesitation, pulled the t-shirt off - tussling his copper blonde hair.

Andy took the proffered shirt and peeled his own off too. The client, who had not been introduced but looked on satisfied enough, leaned back on the exercise bike on which he sat and drank in the view.

Andy was toned and fit, but slighter in build – the t-shirt that had been tight on Iain was less sheer on him but remained satisfactorily revealing. Iain did not ask for Andy's top in return.

"We'll move on then, eh?" said Finn, nodding politely to Andy and his client. Once out of the room he said, "We'd better head up stairs, it's the back of two o'clock already. Mr Douglas knows I was meeting you but he'll start to wonder where we are."

Instead of heading back to the main foyer, they continued up the corridor to the corner where it turned at a right angle, revealing more rooms (offices, private changing rooms and the like). At the corner was a door leading to stairs that the two men took up.

Iain was led to the first floor conference room he'd visited yesterday. Mr Douglas was already present. He smiled, unperturbed at having had to wait. He smiled that Iain was already topless.

"Iain. Nice to see you again." They shook hands. "Findlay?"

Finn nodded knowingly "I showed our other candidate to the sauna room fifteen minutes ago."

"Ah, he'll be nice and supple by now. If you wouldn't mind..." Mr Douglas directed to Finn then turned back to Iain. "We would like you complete your interview with another candidate. Our present employment pool has space for you both but I feel it's important..."

Finn left the room.

Callum sat next to two men in their mid thirties. Both chatted amiably after recovering from the sight of a heat-sweated naked Adonis in the sauna room – with no towel. Callum too had started to relax, so when Finn entered he was laughing at a joke about anal beads that one of the clients had just told.

Finn smiled at Callum who may have blushed when he saw Finn, as if he had been caught slacking off on the job (which he did not have yet). May have blushed, it was hard to tell because he was flushed from the heat of the steam.

"Shall we finish your interview upstairs now, Callum?" Finn asked.

"Certainly."

"We hope to see you around, Callum." One of the men said.

Callum stood and turned to face the two men who were sat close but not quite touching. He moved to stand between them, his legs now touching theirs and his penis just inches away from them. He extended a hand to each and shook their hands.

"A pleasure to meet you gentlemen." Callum said, then turned and paused (prolonged arse view) before walking past Finn and back into the locker room.

"Nice touch." Finn complemented the routine.

"Touching costs extra." Callum said and both men laughed.

"You're getting brave, Callum." Finn concluded.

Callum agreed - he was getting brave. His inhibitions, that rationally he ought to never have had, were dropping. He was fit and attractive enough to have no reticence about being objectified.

The locker room was pleasantly cool and the ruddy complexion of Callum's skin faded as they moved to collect his cloths. Finn unlocked the locker and Callum pulled out his clothes. He pulled on the underwear and then his top but swapped the long tracksuit bottoms for shorts.

As they exited the locker room, Finn directed Callum to the glass lift and began to explain the upcoming meeting just as Mr Douglas had explained to Iain. "This afternoon you're going to complete your interview with another candidate. Mr Douglas had budgeted for two new staff to boost our present employment pool. He feels it's important you are able to work as part of a team and also that you're able to meet individual client needs."

"Role playing?" Callum asked.

"Yea." Finn agreed as they exited the lift.

Finn entered first, followed by Callum – when Callum and Iain saw each other, the penny dropped. Both looked at the other – into the other – and accepted they would go as far as they needed to in order to get their jobs here. They might just enjoy it too.

"I apologise for the clandestine tactics." Mr Douglas said.

Iain wondered why Callum's skin was ruddy and moist – ah, the sauna room?

"We have interviewed multiple candidate's everyday this week, but you boys are special. We knew as soon as we finished yesterday you were top of the pile; that we would have to invite you back."

Callum wondered why Iain already had his t-shirt off. Where WAS his t-shirt - it wasn't in the room?

"I had originally intended to employ just one personal trainer but you both impressed me greatly. And Callum, your additional qualification as a physiotherapist would be valuable to me; to the Symposium." Mr Douglas spoke smoothly and eloquently.

Finn joined the conversation. "But you have to be able to work in the team. To fulfil client needs, and we all know the clientele we have here. You would never be expected to do something you weren't comfortable with but that is rather the point."

"You men have showed you are comfortable with so much more." Mr Douglas finished. He looked between Callum and Iain as he spoke. "So much more."

"Would you like to undress each other?" Finn said.

An odd way to phrase the request. Why not just say: would you like to strip your almost identical familial relation while we watch and perv over you and probably record it just like the last two interviews were?

"Why?" Callum asked, nervousness had returned to him. Iain was glad he asked though.

"You will have to work with some clients with disabilities." Finn said. "They might have difficulty dressing or undressing or completing certain routines. You two ought to be comfortable helping to maximise other people's capacity and lending a helping hand when they need it to surpass that capacity."

Silver tongued son of bitch.

Iain kicked off his trainers and stood barefoot and bear chested before his cousin. Callum followed suit, toeing off his trainers to expedite things in the inevitable direction.

Iain lifted Callum's t-shirt and dropped it on the floor, then stepped close and put his hands on Callum's hips. To their side, Finn now held a camera and poised to move around them - to examine the spectacle the way a stationary (for surely there was on somewhere) could not.

"Tell me no." Callum whispered so only Iain could hear. He was telling Iain it was ok if he did not want to fuck around with another man, cousin or not.

Iain just smiled then pushed Callum's shorts down to his knees where they were loose enough to fall ho his ankles. Iain kissed Callum on the lips, gently at first then Callum slipped his tongue in.

They were locked in a close embrace, Callum's boxer briefs expanded but he could feel the swell in Iain's underwear too. Callum pushed the shorts down and Iain gyrated his hips so they could fall. The boys stood close, pressing their boxer clad groins against each other – frottage encouraging their arousal.

When their lips parted, Callum could see Mr Douglas and Finn were watching with great interest. They were indeed very alike: height, hair colour, skin complexion, moles on their backs, hair of similar spread and sparse density. Like looking into a mirror.

Callum squatted before his mirror image and gripped Iain's briefs. He had never even imagined this; his heart beat so fast and his cock was so hard, Callum was convinced he'd cum before even being touched. He did not yank the briefs down; instead he teased Iain; the room and himself by easing them down slowly. Arse crack revealed, slim flawless hips uncovered, pubes exposed – 8 inch cock released.

As it sprung free, the mighty, heavy organ nearly knocked Callum out! It missed his face by a hairs with and jutted up and down before Callum's face – his lips and his mouth.

"Let me help you take these off." Callum said in a voice that was not quite his own. Nervous but mocking the pretence Mr Douglas and Finn had established.

He shifted from a squat to a kneeling position. Iain lifted a foot and Callum freed the shorts and underwear, then the other foot – Iain was now completely naked.

Callum reached up with a hand that shook with excitement and gripped the shaft of his cousin's penis. Ian held his breath as Callum eased the foreskin back and forth and then massaged the head of his cock with a tight fist.

"Fuck!" Iain said.

Callum took Iain's cock in his mouth.

"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" Iain gasped breathlessly

Callum slid his hands onto Iain's hips and then gripped his buttocks. His right hand slid to the small of Iain's back and made a few minute circles as his fingers slid down, now slick with sweat. Callum probed Iain's anal sphincter with a finger.

"Jesus... Fucking..." Iain had thrown his head back. He had never felt anything like it. It made the experience he'd had with women pale in comparison.

Callum pushed a finger into Iain's anus while he continued to suck his cock. The dick was big, stretching his lips, and hot, warming his mouth. Callum's own dick was uncomfortably tight inside the boxer briefs he still wore – glancing down he saw a large wet spot on them. The underwear were virtually saturated with seminal fluid.

Callum slid his face away from Iain's stiff member and felt the weight of it on his tongue, which he swirled around the cock head before releasing it. The slick penis bobbed unclimaxed before Callum's face.

"Can we compare you boys properly?" Mr Douglas said to them, then to Iain; "Why don't you help Callum out of those?" He indicated Callum's underwear.

Iain was stunned and dazed. He and Callum had fooled around once with each other and a couple of other boys when they were preteens but that had not felt like this. Even Iain's experience with Finn had not felt like what Callum had done. Finn had given him a hand job and blow job – he'd had them before but Callum... what had he done? Where had he learned to do... those things? Make him feel those things?

Out of his fog, Iain turned to Callum and knelt down before him...

His hands were on Callum's underwear, he could see a solid throbbing organ inside...

Iain tugged the underwear down and came face to face with a shining cock head...

Mr Douglas felt an excitement he had not felt for a long time. Memory of that excitement made him look fondly at Finn. Finn remembered too, looking past the camera he still held and catching Mr Douglas's eye. They both turned back to gaze at the magnificent boys.

With his hands at his side, Callum slowly guided his right hand towards Iain's face. He slid his hand under Iain's chin, feeling just a little stubble on his cousin's solid jaw. He lifted Iain's face to meet his eyes and Callum knew Iain was not ready.

"Stand up." Callum breathed and sensed Iain's relief.

Iain stood and faced Callum; they were so similar in almost every physical respect – except the eyes. Mirror image.

Callum pulled Iain close by yanking his penis and then wanking Iain and himself with one grip. Their penises together were warm and hard and very aroused. They turned to face Mr Douglas and Finn who, for a moment, didn't seem to know what to do with them. Finn filled the void, walking around them in a circle and then standing before them, expanding the view finder to take in a wide shot of them side-by-side with jutting cocks.

"Callum, how long has it been since you last came?" Mr Douglas asked.

"Going on five days." He replied.

Iain regarded that he could fill a bath with cum if he'd not released for that long.

"Do you want to now?" he asked? Callum nodded. "Could you give him a hand, Iain?"

Iain nodded, ready to take back the initiative having shrank away from falacio. He'd never felt another man's dick either, so as he gripped Callum's cock he felt something... unique. It felt hotter than his own – length and girth virtually the same, but the sensation of his hand passing over the head of Callum's penis was different. He enjoyed the sensation.

Iain could feel a pulse in the organ, even as his hand moved steadily and picked up speed. With his left hand he started to wank himself. It was difficult with his non-dominant hand but he was not so fucking horney that it would take little effort to cum

Callum too was already close and it was going to be messy. Callum stepped closer to Iain, their stomachs pressing together and his hand covered Iain's and took over his cousin's self-stimulation. Ach continued grip the other's cock and smear precum over their hands. Thier chest's were close so their penises rubbed together and meshed onto their stomachs, making their treasure trails sticky with precum.

Their eyes locked at the same instant. "Fuck!"

Both came, the ejaculation's shooting over their heads as their cocks pointed up. The cum would have soaked their heads if it hadn't been so forceful that the shots hit the ceiling. Drops hit their hair. The following ropes of cum were aimed at each other's stomachs chests. They were filthy with cum by the time climax subsided.

Callum's balls ached! The depoit of cum had been impressive and as he looked at himself and then into his mirror he smiled. It was quite some mess. Globs hit the floor. It was cum on their feet that finally made Callum laugh.

It was a loud, infectious laugh. The sheer delight of the day and the absurdity of their present state made him laugh. Soon Iain too was laughing and then Mr Douglas and Finn also. The boys need to get some of the cum off so Finn handed Callum and Iain some material to clean up with: a pair of underpants, a t-shirt and joggers.

The boys mopped cum up as best as they could, the smears were unmistakable but there was less overt globs on their chests, pubes, legs, feet. Callum had used the pants, Iain the t-shirt – they'd shared the jobbers but the clothes were, of course, unbearable now. And now the boys had time to think about it, they had a new problem. The only clean items of clothing left were a pair of tight boxer briefs and a pair of short running shorts.

"Get dressed boys, you're hired." Mr Douglas said.

The boys made no complaint as Callum pulled on the shorts and Iain pulled up the boxer briefs, which clung to his cum streaked cock. They looked great.

"I think perhaps this session has ended." Mr Douglas said. "See you boys for your first day on Monday." He paused thoughtfully. "Oh, I would love to allow you to use the showers before you leave the building, but they're strictly for staff and members. You understand."

The boys understood alright. Mr Douglas wanted them to walk out the building covered in cum and looking almost obscene. Even Iain would have been reluctant to get on the bus home this time; Callum offered him a lift. Together they got into the glass lift and descended to the foyer. Crossing to the exit they passed a half dozen men who gave them a second glance. Then a third, fourth and fifth glance. They were going to enjoy their work here...

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