Date: Mon, 24 Jul 2000 22:24:53 -0700 (PDT) From: Brew Maxwell Subject: "Twin Spin," Chapter 11 Disclaimer: The following is a work of fiction, and any resemblance to real people or events is purely coincidental. The story contains graphic descriptions of sex between men, and anyone who is forbidden by law to read such material must exit the story now. This story is being posted to the Nifty Archive for the enjoyment of its readers. It may not be posted or distributed by any other media without the written permission of its author. My other works in the Nifty Archive include Unusual Christmas and Nick's Adventures, both in bisexual/high school, First Mate in gay/incest, The Dancer and Call-Boy Journal in gay/encounters, and From Slave to Houseboy in gay/authoritarian. E-mail comments are always welcome. Twin Spin Chapter 11 Kevin inserted his card into the machine that controlled the gate on the garage, and, when he did, a voice said, "Good morning, Kevin. Welcome to Finch." "That's pretty fuckin' cool, now," he said. "Not too shabby, even for a high-tech company," I agreed. We parked in the spot with Kevin's number on it and went back into the building. I expected to find the girl eating her earwax or something, but she was gone. Instead, a smartly dressed woman in her very early twenties was at the desk. "Good morning, gentlemen. How may I help you," she asked in a wonderfully professional voice. "This is more like it," I said loud enough for only Kevin to hear. "I'm Kevin Finch, and . . . ." Kevin's voice trailed off when he saw the reaction on her face. She looked delighted to meet him. "Oh, Mr. Finch. I noticed your card was gone. I'm Louise Myers. Welcome." "Thanks." They shook hands. "And you must be Mr. Brian Finch," she said to me. "No. I'm John Prescott." "Oh, Mr. Prescott. Louise Myers," she said, extending her hand. "We have a card for you, too, of course." She gave me my card and had me sign for it. "We were told we could use the gym," Kevin said. "Well, of course you can. Do you know where it is?" "The girl who was here a few minutes ago said it was on the tenth floor," Kevin said. "She meant the twelfth floor," Louise said. "Let me take you up and introduce you to Vick. He's the trainer. He'll be delighted to meet you, I'm sure." She came from behind the desk through a doorway, and she led us to the elevators. On the ride up, I asked, "Who was the girl behind the desk when we first came in?" Louise looked a little embarrassed. "She was filling in for me. I was in a meeting. She won't be doing that again, though." She knew. Louise took us to an office, knocked, and we waited to be invited in. Inside, she introduced us to Vick Hurley, the trainer. He was a big guy who looked to be about twenty-five or so. He had obviously spent a great many hours with the weights. He was wearing shorts and a tanktop that said "Finch, Inc." I glanced at his legs, and they were as smooth as glass. He obviously shaved everywhere. "I'll leave you gentlemen with Vick," Louise said. "It was so nice to meet both of you. I'm sure we'll see one another again." With that, she left. Vick invited us to have a seat. "So, what can I do for you guys," he asked. "My brother and I want to start an organized workout program," Kevin began, "and we were told you could set one up for us." "What are you interested in," he asked. "All-around fitness? Weight loss? Bodybuilding? What?" "We want to go out for wrestling at school next year, so I guess all-around fitness. I'm not real sure." He looked at me and asked, "What grade are you in?" Kevin started laughing, and I almost laughed, too. "Not me. I'm not his brother. His brother isn't here." "We'll start with an evaluation. I can set up something for you," he said to Kevin, "but your brother will have to come in so I can get stats on him." "They'll be the same for both of us," Kevin said. Now it was Vick's turn to laugh. "That would only work if y'all were identical twins. Everybody's different. Even brothers." "We are identical twins," Kevin said. "Perfectly identical." "Oh," Vick said. "Well, okay. Let's get started. Have you ever worked out before?" "At school, some. For football. And on our own, too. We kind of made up our routines, though." "Well, you're smart to come see me. Does your brother work here, too? This place is only for employees. You can work out for three hours a week on company time. The place stays open till midnight, and it's open all weekend, too. I'm not here all that time, of course. I'm just here during the workday." "No, my brother doesn't work here. I don't either." "Well, how the hell did you get in?" Before we could answer, he picked up the phone and dialed. He put it on the speaker phone, and Louise answered with, "Good morning. Finch, Incorporated. How may I help you?" In response he said, "Yeah, Louise. This is Vick. These two jokers you brought up don't even work here. You know this place is only for employees. What gives?" Vick's voice was a little hostile. "Well, Vick, I thought it would be obvious from the name." "What name?" "Finch. The drop-dead gorgeous one is Kevin Finch. I'm surprised you don't already have him naked." Kevin and I both started laughing, but we kept it quiet so Louise wouldn't hear us and so we could hear her. Vick blushed deeply, but he persisted in his denseness. "Finch?" He said it like he'd never heard the name before. Louise's voice was dripping with sarcasm: "Yes, Vick. Finch. As in Finch, Incorporated. As in the Finch Building. As in Tom Finch who owns the fucking company and who is ultimately your fucking boss. Do you get the connection, Vick? Kevin Finch is Tom Finch's son. That's why they have the same last name. It's okay for Tom Finch's son to use the gym. Should, God forbid, his father die suddenly, say of frustration from dealing with certain employees, Kevin FINCH and his identical twin brother Brian FINCH will own the fucking company. The other gentleman is John Prescott, who actually does work for the company. On special assignment. At Tom Finch's house. He's the boys' tutor-companion. Have I helped you to understand, Vick?" "Yeah," he said. "And Vick, it might be a nice gesture if you gave each of them a tanktop like the one you're wearing." "These things cost ten bucks," Vick said. "You really don't get it, do you? Give them three goddamn shirts. One for Kevin, one for Brian, and one for John Prescott. Trust me. The company can afford it." She hung up without another word. Vick looked confused. He stared at the receiver and then looked up. Kevin and I were in convulsions of laughter on the inside, but we tried not to let it show. "I hate it when a woman curses," Vick said. Kevin and I couldn't hold it another second. We both burst into hysterical laughter. Kevin was having trouble catching his breath. Just then the office door opened and another man came in. He was about thirty, trim, refined good looks, and obviously in great shape. He was wearing shorts and a polo shirt, both with the company logo on them. Apparently they had a whole line of clothing items. "Hi," he said. "I'm Steve Mashburn, head trainer. I see you've met my assistant, Vick." Kevin and I stood up to shake hands and introduce ourselves. "John Prescott," I said as we shook hands. "John." "Kevin Finch," Kevin said as they shook. "Oh, Kevin. How do you do? Is Brian with you?" "No, sir. He couldn't make it today." "You know who he is," Vick asked in disbelief. Steve ignored him. "Come on into my office," Steve said. "Can I get you coffee or a coke?" "No, sir," Kevin said. "Nothing for me, thanks." "Kevin, call me Steve. 'Sir' sounds too old." Steve laughed. "Sure, Steve," Kevin said. Steve inquired about my refreshment needs, and I assured him I was fine, too. Then we got down to the serious part of the visit. Kevin told him what he and Brian were interested in. Steve said he thought he could be of some help. "I want to get some baseline information about you guys," Steve said. "Like weight, height, muscle mass, percentage of body fat. That kind of thing." "Sure. When," Kevin asked. "Well, I've got time now, if you do," Steve said. "Yes, si . . . ." Kevin started to say "yes, sir," but he caught himself. "Yes, Steve," he said. Steve and I laughed. I liked that guy already. Steve took us into a room that resembled the examining room in a doctor's office. He had Kevin take off his clothes. He had said for him to strip down to his underwear, but, since he wasn't wearing any, it had to be to the buff. Kevin didn't mind, of course. Getting naked was second nature to him, even if everyone else in the room was fully dressed. I checked Steve's shorts, and he obviously didn't mind, either. He was starting to develop quite a bulge. He weighed Kevin (165 lbs., exactly) and measured him (6 feet even; exactly). Then he measured his muscle mass (considerable) and put him through various tests of flexibility, strength, and endurance (all superior). The flexibility tests were the most interesting. He had Kevin lie on his back and reach forward as far as possible. Kevin was able to get his hands well past his feet. In fact, he was able to put his chest down flat on the table. Steve walked all around him while he was doing that. At Kevin's rear, Steve put his hand on Kevin's butt, to make sure it was flat on the table, or so he said. He moved his hands around it quite a bit. I checked the bulge, and it got a little bigger. Next he had Kevin sit up and put his head into his own lap, again with his legs joined. Steve reached into the envelope Kevin's body made and took his cock into his hand. "Let's just get this fellow out of the way" was what Steve said. He brushed it across Kevin's lips when he moved it. I hoped Kevin wouldn't get hard, and he didn't. He had Kevin stand and bend over as far as he could. He went all the way over and wrapped his arms around his legs when Steve told him to. Steve stood behind Kevin and examined that view of Kevin's ass for several seconds, all the while affecting a very professional and disinterested air. Then he had Kevin bend over backwards and do the same thing with his arms. Kevin's cock flopped up onto his stomach, and I could tell Steve was aching to figure out some reason to touch it again. "You're really incredibly flexible, especially for a man with your muscle mass," Steve said. I could tell Kevin liked being referred to as a man. Finally, Steve wanted to measure the percentage of fat in his body. That involved Kevin's getting into a tank of water. The results: 5.5% body fat. When the tests were over, he took a series of Polaroid's of Kevin in various poses. Most were from the front, but a couple were from the back, too. I wondered if everybody got the camera treatment. After Kevin had dressed and we had gone back into Steve's office, he gave Kevin the news. "Kevin," he said, "I've never had a client that was in more ideal shape than you. Your numbers are perfect. Whatever you've been doing has worked. How old are you?" "Eighteen," Kevin said. "Well, for a eighteen-year-old, you've got the body of a twenty-two-year-old Olympic athlete. Son, you're incredible." Kevin was beaming. He and Brian were proud of their bodies, and now he had first-class professional confirmation that they were in top shape. "Let me take a few days to come up with a program for you. I've got to do some research on this. Ordinarily, even for guys who are in pretty good shape, I can spit out the perfect exercise plan in five minutes. But, as I said, I've never had a client like you." "And Brian," Kevin said. "And Brian," Steve acknowledged. "Would you guys like a tour of our facilities? They're about the best I've ever seen. Mr. Finch spared no expense to make this a place his people will want to come to. He knows the importance of physical conditioning. People in good shape work better and are happier than those who aren't. Research has proved that." "Yeah, I'd like a tour," Kevin said. "By the way, the place is 'clothing optional,' so don't be surprised if you see some men in the nude. I always work out that way myself," Steve said. "Brian and I do, too," Kevin said. "In fact, we spend a lot of time naked." "Yeah, I thought so. No tan line. Oh, and I really like the tattoo." Kevin said thanks. "I've got an appointment in about five minutes, but let me see if Vick's free to show you around." Steve phoned Vick, who was free. We said our good-byes and thank-yous to Steve, and we left for our tour. The place really was very nice. There was a locker room with carpet, padded benches, and a couple of places where you could lie down. There was also a machine that dispensed towels, presumably so you wouldn't have to bring one from home. The exercise room had mirrors from floor to ceiling. In fact, the ceiling was mirrored, too. There were four guys in there working out. Three were naked and one had on shorts with the company logo. All four were in their twenties, and three of them were pretty well built. One guy needed to drop about fifty pounds. His stomach hung over and his dick just about disappeared into the fat around his pubes. The shower room was spotless. There were ten shower heads, and two were in use. Next to the shower room was a steamroom. We didn't go in, but Vick explained there was a large steamroom and six smaller ones off the larger one. "That's for privacy," he said, and winked. "You can adjust the amount of steam in those so you can stay in longer, if you want to." There was a huge hottub that probably held ten people and four one-man hottubs in the next room. Then Vick showed us the sauna. Again, there was a large room with benches and six smaller rooms "for privacy." Next we saw the massage area. Vick told us a massage therapist works on Mondays, Thursdays, and Fridays. You have to pay for those yourself, at fifty dollars an hour. He said some people get three a week. Apparently, there's a good bit of stress among some at Finch, Inc. Finally, Vick showed us the pool. It was pretty big and very nice. There were a handful of people in it, but none of them were really swimming. They were mostly standing around in the water, talking. By that time it was getting on toward lunch time, and I knew Kevin was hungry. We thanked Vick for the tour and took the elevator downstairs. In the lobby of the building, we stopped at the desk to say good bye to Louise. "I hope everything went well. Did Vick work with you? Or did Steve?" "Steve did," Kevin said. "He's a cool guy." "We're fortunate to have him," Louise said. "Louise," I said, "thanks for going to so much trouble. We appreciate it." "It was no trouble. Everyone at Finch, Incorporated has service first." "Even Vick," I asked. "Well, of course. Oh, and sorry about the mix up at the start. I should have told Vick you fellas were on the 'approved' list. It was my fault for any inconvenience I might have caused you." "Louise," Kevin and I said together. I let him continue. It would be better coming from him. "You have nothing to apologize for," Kevin said. "You've been gracious, professional, and more than kind. Vick, on the other hand, is an idiot. Just like that girl who was at that desk when we first came in to get my card. Should, God forbid, my father die suddenly, say of frustration from dealing with certain employees." Kevin paused here, and Louise had a look of death come over her face. "Oh, my. You heard. I was talking too loudly." "No. The asshole had the speaker phone on. He was all set to put you in your little female place, the dumb fucking jock." Kevin was getting angry. Then, in a more conciliatory tone, "He really doesn't get it, does he?" Louise looked down, embarrassed. "I used some language I shouldn't have . . . ." "Bullshit," Kevin said with emphasis. "You told him the truth. You were wonderful. J and I laughed our asses off." "You weren't offended," Louise asked, obviously concerned. "Yeah. Right. I was very fucking offended at your fucking language. Fucking right." She laughed. "Do you know what that asshole said when you hung up?" She shook her head no. "He said, 'I hate it when women curse.'" Louise, Kevin, and I laughed hard. "Did anybody give you a shirt," Louise asked when she had recovered her professional decorum. "Fuck, no," Kevin said. He was playing with her now. "Why, those fuckers," she said. She was playing with him. They were playing together. "And, frankly, I would fucking love to have some of those fucking clothes." "And you fucking well should have them," she said. Kevin was grinning from ear to ear. I knew he really liked that woman. "Can you fucking get me some?" "I'll fucking well get your whole fucking family some," she said. "You fucking count on it." They were truly having fun. "Would you fucking care to join us for some fucking lunch," Kevin asked. "I'd fucking love to, but I really fucking can't. That would mean fucking Doris from this morning would have to be at the desk. And we can't fucking have that, now, can we?" "No fucking way," Kevin said. "Well, you guys have a nice fucking lunch. And thanks, again, for the fucking invitation." Kevin was laughing. "Fuck you very much." "Get your fucking ass out of here, you fucker. This is a serious fucking place of business." "Fuck you," Kevin said. "And fuck you, too. Do come again." As we were opening the door to leave, Louise called to Kevin. "I completely forgot about our cafeteria. If you don't already have lunch plans, you might try it. It really is pretty good." "Where is it," Kevin asked. "It's on this floor. Go past the elevators and take a right. You can't miss it." "You want to try it," Kevin asked me. "Yeah. Why not," I said. After we thanked Louise again for her help, we walked to the cafeteria. That place was really nice, too. It was under contract to the Marriott Company, but the furniture and appliances belonged to Finch. There were several smaller dining rooms for business lunches and dinners, but the cafeteria was in a large room that looked like a restaurant. There were separate smoking and non-smoking sections, just like a restaurant, and the cafeteria line was just like ones you see in malls and other places. Kevin and I got in line and walked down the display of food. He got a hearty meal, but I settled for some fried shrimp and a salad. We took a place in the smoking section. I noticed the place wasn't full, but there were quite a few tables taken in both sections. That building had only been open a couple of months, and already there were three hundred people working in it. Eventually, there would be about a thousand, and the cafeteria was built to serve that many. Not all at one time, of course, but it was spacious. Kevin was seated in a spot that allowed him to see people coming out of the food service area. After we were seated for a few minutes, he jumped up and shouted "Calvin." I turned to see who he was talking to. A man in an impeccable navy blue suit and a beautiful tie was grinning at him. Kevin waved him over. "It's Calvin," he said. "Chuck's partner." Calvin came to the table and put his tray down. He and Kevin hugged. Kevin introduced us, and I stood up to shake his hand. People all over the room were looking at us, probably wondering who we were and what we were doing shouting at the head of the North America Division of the company. "God, it's good to see you, Kevin. I feel like I'm completely out of touch with the family. Your dad has kept my ass on the move so much lately, I barely recognize Chuck any more." "I know. How much longer is all this going to go on," Kevin asked. "We've hardly seen Dad in months." "Another three or four months, probably, but then things should settle down. And John, I've heard a lot about you from Chuck. He really likes you, you know." "Thanks," I said. "I really like him, too. He's a prince of a fellow." "You won't get any counter arguments from me," Calvin said. He was obviously very much in love with Chuck, and that was touching. "What are you guys doing here," Calvin asked. "We came to check out the gym," Kevin said. "Chuck just told me about it this morning. Brian and I are going out for wrestling, and we want to really get into shape for it this summer." "Did you meet Steve," Calvin asked. "Yeah. He's a nice guy. He gave me an evaluation," Kevin said. "We met Vick, too," I said. "Oh, God," Calvin groaned. "Did he put his foot in his mouth, as usual?" We told him the story of everything that had taken place that morning. It turned out Vick was Steve's lover, and Steve would only come to work for Finch if Vick could be his assistant. Doris, the girl on the switchboard when we first got there, turned out to be the niece of the personnel director. She usually worked in the mail room, but twice they'd had to use her in front when Louise had a meeting and Louise's usual replacement was out for some reason. "So Steve's gay," Kevin asked. "He's as queer as a three-dollar bill," Calvin said. "Did he try to molest you or anything?" Calvin said that lightly. "Well, he felt my ass a couple of times, and he had to move my cock out of the way when he had me do some flexibility tests. But no, goddamn it, he didn't molest me. You think I can get him to, one of these days?" "Kevin, I persist in mistaking you and Brian for innocent young things, when, in reality, you're both perverts to the core. Your looks are so deceiving. Don't you think, John?" I suspected we were in for a round of Dozens. "Well, what do you expect, given the way we were raised. It's unbelievable we're as normal as we are, considering the whackos we've been forced to be around." Calvin laughed appreciatively at Kevin's quick rejoinder. "Speaking of looks, I understand you're sporting some ink these days," Calvin said. "You mean my tattoo? Yeah. Wanna see?" "Will my seeing it require you to flop that fire hose of a penis of yours onto the table?" "And risk getting a fork in it from you? Not on your life." Calvin laughed. "Good, because if I had wanted a whole deli salami, I'd have ordered one." Kevin laughed at that. "My tattoo is on my arm. See?" He pushed up the sleeve on his shirt to reveal his tattoo. Calvin studied the tattoo carefully. Then he said, "How very tribal." "That's it? That's fucking it? No compliments? No 'cool'? No 'poor baby, the pain you must have endured to decorate yourself for others to enjoy'? Just 'how very tribal'?" "Actually, it's a good bit more tasteful than I expected." "Is that supposed to make me feel better? You see what I mean, J, about living with whackos? This is the kind of self-esteem-busting shit my little brother and I have had to endure all our lives." Then, after a pause, Kevin continued. "You like it, don't you? You're just fucking with me, aren't you?" "Well, of course, I like it. And, yes, I'm fucking with you. Have you ever known me to do anything else? Chuck likes it, too. He even said he might like to get one. I told him tattoos aren't for darkies, and he agreed. Although I really think he's light enough that one would show up pretty well." "What about you? Why don't you get one?" "Like that? No, I'm content with the one I have, thank you very much." "He has one on his ass," Kevin said to me. "It's a tiger. He went to Princeton, and every guy there has a tiger tattooed on his ass. Isn't that cute?" The small talk continued. I could tell Calvin loved Kevin, and certainly Brian, as well, just as Chuck did. These guys were lucky to have so many adults who cared so much about them. After we finished, Kevin got cups of coffee for the three of us. Calvin, Kevin, and I lit cigarettes and lingered over lunch. "So, Calvin, are you in charge of this place," Kevin asked. "No. Doris and Vick are." Kevin and I howled. "But only when Tom--you know him as Dad--isn't here. Yes, I am in charge. When Tom's not here. And even when he is. Which is rare." "I guess you know I work for the company," I said. "Yes, indeed. The whole world does," Calvin said. "Are you my boss? I mean, who am I responsible to?" "Like me and Chuck, you're responsible to Thomas Mason Finch. Nobody else. Except Kevin and Brian. I certainly am, and Chuck is so responsible to them he's been known to have wiped their asses. Not for the last few months, though. They've finally learned how to do that on their own." Laughter. "The difference is, Tom is a rational human being. Kevin and Brian will only annoy you into submission." "Very fucking funny, C-man." "That's another thing about them. You have to put up with their degrading nicknames. I'm C-man. Chuck's Chunk. Tom is Dab. They're both dyslexics, you see. They can't get the letters right." "Very funky, C-man. Sometimes we call him Calvunt," Kevin said to me. "Oh, I forgot about that one. Calvunt. I have also been known as California. Remember that, Kevin? You guys were just little tykes when you called me that." Calvin's tone changed perceptibly. All of a sudden, he was a family intimate. A family member, really. After a second cigarette and another cup of coffee, Calvin said it was getting late and he didn't want to set a bad example for the other employees by hanging out in the cafeteria all afternoon. He sounded like he was serious when he said that. "Has somebody shown you around the place," he asked. "No. Doris told us there aren't any tours. This isn't a public building," Kevin said. Calvin laughed. He took us up to his office. His suite, really. Besides the obvious reception area, where his secretary greeted Kevin like a long-lost nephew, he had a kind of study (his real office, I guessed, but it looked like some nobleman's study), a conference room, and a kind of living room, or something. He had a huge bath suite, with a shower, an enormous whirlpool tub, toilet, sink, etc. There was a "dressing room" off the bathroom, with many closets and a daybed. And there was a regular bedroom, with a king-size bed. It was on the twentieth floor--the top of the building. He showed us Tom's area, which was right next to his, and it had all the same things, only larger and more elaborate. Tom's rooms had paintings on the walls that I had seen in art history books. Tom's secretary fawned over Kevin like he was a little prince, which, in that place, at least, I guessed he was. Tom had two executive assistants, as well. One was travelling with him, but the other one, a woman of middle years, gushed when she saw Kevin. All of these people knew immediately it was Kevin and not Brian. I guess the years of affiliation had made it possible for them to tell the boys apart instantly. I watched Kevin closely to check out his reaction to all that opulence. He either wasn't surprised, or he had seen it all before, maybe in its New Orleans manifestation. One of the things I liked best about both boys was their at-homeness with wealth. Hell, they probably didn't realize everybody doesn't live like they did. They're almost unaffected by their surroundings, lavish or poor. The next stop on the tour was a total surprise to me. It was my office. Calvin said that both boys and I had offices on the nineteenth floor because Tom had wanted to give us places to get off to. All three offices were furnished with desks, bookcases, credenzas, computers, telephones, small refrigerators and ice makers, two-burner stoves with ovens, microwaves, sinks, the works. Each one also had a sitting area, and each sitting area had three very comfortable chairs, a large leather sofa, and end and coffee tables. They were all decorated differently, but the look was terrific in each. "By the way," Calvin said, "those are sofa-sleepers. Every office with a sofa has one. We don't want any excuses for people having to go home at night." Kevin and I laughed. I looked at Kevin, and I could see his mind working. That was like having an estate in the country and an apartment in the city for late-night assignations. "This is way fucking cool," Kevin said. "Spoken like the true aristocrat you are, Kevin. Very polished. Very suave. Very-- what? Continental." "Thanks, Calvunk. Where's the stereo and TV and VCR? What is this dump?" "Shut your fucking mouth, you little shit. There they are. Asssshole." "Oh. Spoken like a true asstocrat." That broke Calvin up, and, of course, I laughed, too. "Well, I see you're finally learning our little game, micro-soft." Kevin and I both had to think about that one for a while, and then we laughed. "Neither," Kevin said. Calvin laughed, and I joined in. "Kevin, you're quicker than I thought you were," I said. "His girlfriend told me the same thing," Calvin said. Kevin thought long and hard on that one, but, alas, he couldn't top it. "Gotcha last," Calvin said. "Got me last," Kevin said, and they hugged. Calvin said he had a slew of appointments ahead of him but that if we wanted more of a tour, he'd get his assistant to take us on one. "I've seen enough," Kevin said. "What about you, J?" "Yeah, me, too," I said. I really wanted to see the rest of the building, but I could tell Kevin didn't. I wanted to see where the engineers and computer scientists worked, for instance. Where Pete worked. I guess it would have to wait. "Calvin, thanks for the tour," Kevin said. "So, if I want to come up here to study and such, how do I get in. Say, late at night?" "The building's open all the time, 365 days a year, twenty-four hours. Just present your parking card, and that'll do it. No questions asked." "Cool," Kevin said. Kevin kissed Calvin on his cheek, and Calvin blushed a little, but with pride and love. "Now get your ass in there and work," Kevin said. "And get your ass out of here. This is not a public building." Calvin kissed Kevin on the forehead, and we left. Out in the hall, I said, "This place is too much. I've never seen anything like it." "It's just an office," Kevin said. "Right." As we were walking down the hall to the elevator, I asked Kevin, "What do you want to do? Go home?" "No. I don't want to go home. Brian wants a whole day with Lloyd. Let's stay gone." Then, after a pause, "You want to go for a swim? The only reason Brian came up with that bullshit about not working out today was so he and Lloyd could fuck each other all day without any interruptions. I need some exertion." "Yeah. Where? Here?" "Of course, here. Why not?" "Cool," I said. We went down to the twelfth floor. Vick had assigned us lockers when we went through earlier, so we took off our clothes and went to the pool. When Kevin said he wanted to swim, he really meant swim. Not stand around in the water and talk. He said he wanted to see how many laps he could swim in thirty minutes at his usual speed, so he gave me the job of watching the clock and counting laps. He did thirty-five laps in thirty minutes. "I think this pool is smaller than the one at the house," he said. "I can only do thirty laps in thirty minutes there." I was back in the water by then, and two or three other guys were swimming laps by then, as well. "Let's take a steam bath," Kevin said. "I've only done that one other time. And this one has private rooms." He said the last sentence with an obvious leer. Frankly, watching him cavort naked in the pool had begun to turn me on, so I was game for a little private steam bathing. There were a couple of guys in the large room when we went into the steam bath. They said hello, and we acknowledged them. We went right into one of the smaller rooms. The steam wasn't as thick in there as it was in the large room, but we both started sweating anyway. There was a two-tiered bench made of tile, just as there was in the large room, but it was much smaller, of course. We sat down on the lower tier. "I really like this place," Kevin said. "I do, too," I replied. "Will you come here to work out? Or will you use the stuff at home." "Probably some of both. We can easily walk here from school, and I might want to come by and work out so other guys can see me. Who knows?" I laughed when he said that, but I also knew he wasn't joking about having other guys see him. He and Brian both loved to be admired. Kevin turned toward me and brought his feet up and put them on the bench. "Turn and face me," he said. "Sit like I'm sitting." I did what he said. He moved in toward me and draped his legs over mine. He inched forward and put his arms around my waist. Then he kissed me. Or, rather, we kissed, because I did as much of the kissing as he did. "Does kissing make you hard," he asked. "Yeah. Serious kissing does. Look and see for yourself." I was already hard, and I figured he could feel it. "It does me, too," he said. Our cocks were standing between us, and Kevin moved even closer so they were touching. I felt him shudder with pleasure when that happened. "What do you want to do," I asked, as I draped my arms over his shoulders. "I just want you to hold me; that's all. Just hold me." We stayed like that for a long time, and, frankly, I was starting to get a little bored. Plus, I was horny, and I wanted sex. I wanted to come. Finally, I spoke. "What's wrong," I asked. Kevin heaved a heavy sigh. "Nothing's wrong," he said. "Kevin, something is wrong. I know you well enough to know that." "I'm a little depressed, I guess." "Are you also a little jealous of Brian," I asked. I felt the sob that erupted come from deep inside his chest. In a second, he was crying deeply, and I thought I could feel his tears drip onto my shoulder. I waited to see what would happen. After a long few moments, he finally spoke. "I am jealous of Brian, and I'm so fucking ashamed of myself for it I can't stand it. I want Brian to be happy, and I want him to have friends. I love him so much, J. Why can't I be happy he's found a friend? A lover? Why am I so fucking selfish I want him all to myself?" He sobbed some more. I wished I had words to say that would make it all right and make him feel better. God, I loved that kid, and I loved Brian, too. I was beginning to realize how hard it must be to be a twin. His pain was very real to him, and I wished I could help. I hugged him harder. That made him cry more, so I eased up. That's not what he wanted, though. He squeezed me more, and he cried more. By that time I had lost my erection, and I was beginning to get a little concerned about dehydration. Kevin was still rock hard. In a few moments, the crying stopped and he loosened his grasp on me. He pulled back a little, looked at me with as sad a face as I think I had ever seen, and smiled. I smiled back. "I'm sorry I did that, John. I hate being a pain in the ass. But I feel a lot better now. Thanks." "Are you ready to get out of here," I asked. "Yeah. We'd better." When we went through the large room, I noticed it was empty. Then, outside the steam bath, I noticed Kevin still had a king-size hard-on. Fortunately, there wasn't anybody in the shower room, so I guided him in that direction. "We've got to do something about this thing," I said, putting my hand on his cock. "Jerk me off," he said. "Kevin, what if somebody comes in?" "So? What are they going to do? Fire us? I don't think so." The thought of jerking Kevin off in the shower where anybody could walk in at any second excited me, and in a minute I was as hard as he was. "See. You want to do it," he said. "Of course, I want to do it. Aw, fuck it. Let's go." We took hold of each other's cocks and started stroking. "Don't hold off any longer than you have to," I said. "I'll try to come quick, too." "I love you, J," he said. "You're the best." In just a minute, we both came in large spurts. It wasn't the best orgasm of my life, but it wasn't bad, either. We showered in cool water, and we were both respectably soft by the time we were finished. We dressed and left.