Something has changed in him; he stopped acting awkward and embarrassed and is finally following up my instruction. Jake smiled to himself.
Selucas was now wearing only his underwear, the shaved labrador said with a firm resolution in his determined voice: ''What's next Jake?''
The tone of his voice had an edge of sincere curiosity in it. Jake liked that. Looks like he has changed his mind. He thought satisfied.
Now that Selucas was standing before him - for the second time in just under an hour - half naked, Jake had a good opportunity to analyse his cherished friend: Look at that body, so taut and tight....
Jake was impressed, Selucas hasn't been going to the gym for very long – less than a year – and his gym schedule isn't spectacular – two times a week – but even so his body was pleasant to look at, especially his abdominal muscles were tensely strained and well-shaped, the ridges of his core forming a clean, symmetrical line that tapered into a narrow waist. The dimensions and contours of his body were well shaped and matched perfectly; every body part was in the right proportion to each other; the balance was excellent.
Selucas stood with his hands crossed, wearing only his airy boxershorts; wide jersey boxershorts with stripes on it. At least no stupid print on his underwear, but still cheap and of a low brand. Jake thought discontented.
Jake pointed to a row of jeans. "Try that black cargo over there— tapered, not baggy. And for tops, neutral tones with texture, not loud logos and giant cartoon characters,'' he said mordant, then with good insight: ''Something pure white would look the best on you."
Selucas followed his orders and grabbed the pitch-black cargo pants that Jake had pointing at: These cargo pants were crafted from a durable yet flexible cotton-spandex blend, allowing for a snug, sculpted fit without sacrificing comfort or movement. The black fabric has a matte finish, giving the pants a sleek, urban edge— clean and understated, yet distinctly utilitarian.
It was immediately clear to Selucas that this cargo was from a well-established brand, because its texture and fabric felt so strong. ''This cargo must be from a high-end brand,'' he noted as he ran his fingers over the taut fabric.
''Yes, look at the backside of the waistband,'' Jake said proudly. ''It's the brand Verdant Silvester; my absolute favourite brand!''
''Are you sure you'll give it away to me?'' Selucas said hesitantly. Even someone who doesn't know much about fashion knew that brand. It was an urban fashion giant that incorporated a strong taste of technical clothing into its range.
''Most of my clothes are from Verdant Silvester, so don't mind. Go on, put it on, it will suit you perfectly, you will love it!''
Selucas now put the cargo on; the waistline hugged his hips with a tailored band and reinforced belt loops. A hidden zip fly and matte black button kept the look minimalist. The fit through the thighs was snug but breathable, closely following the shape of his legs without bunching or pulling.
As the cargo progressed downwards, the tapered cut became more prominent, narrowing sharply from knee to ankle. The ankles were cuffed with elastic hems, ensuring a crisp, streamlined finish that rests cleanly above sneakers.
This very stylish cargo had six handy pockets: Two behind and two in the front with buttons, and below the high front-pockets two large, functional tech-pockets with zips.
Jake was delighted to see that the cargo pants fit his friends long legs perfectly; he immediately looked more dominant and tougher just by wearing these firm and slim-fitted cargo's.
Selucas turned sideways, then back again, checking how the cargo's fit and moved walking back and forth a few times. He grinned enthusiast and seemed hyped-up.
''Well, how's the fit?'' Jake asked inquisitive.
''Maybe a lil' to big my size, but it's doable,'' he said positively.
''I'm slightly bigger and broader than you, so it can't be helped, but no worries as long as the clothing piece is tight and strained in a slim-fit, the look's going to be fine. And sagging your pants a bit adds a lustful and sensual effect; I always wear my cargos so that the waistband of my boxershorts and a small portion beneath it is visible, that is important because if you wear branded underwear you can't just let it hide underneath the pants, that would be a waste! So don't be too shy to let it hang a bit, you'll get used to it,'' the ex bad-boy explained.
Selucas gave a wry chuckle. ''Is it really that necessary to wear branded underwear?''
''Everything needs to be branded,'' Jake said strict, while throwing multiple boxershorts at Selucas' face. ''Here, take these with you on your way back. You have to wear them always if you want to be truly stylish! Otherwise, it would be half-work!''
Selucas grabbed the boxershorts that were clinging on his head. ''Well, a gift can't be rejected, so I shall take them, even though the deliverance was one star-out-of-five,'' he said in a temperate manner, adding with modesty: ''I can't guarantee you that I am capable of following up your shameless advice of sagging them, but I will wear them.''
Jake was not amused: ''You have to at least show the waistband! These are exclusive Aldorqvist boxershorts! The best underwear brand there is! No boxer fits the contours of the crotch area and the noble parts of manhood so well and—''
''Okey, okey,'' Selucas was quick to intervene. ''I promise I shall wear at least the waistband above.''
Jake sighed with relief and added with grim: ''The boxershorts of Aldorqvist are on average 70 euro, you know? So, you better wear them every day and show the waistband clearly.''
''What?! 70 euros?! For one boxer?!,'' Selucas gasped, being thunderstruck in jolted awe and dismay. ''Are you really sure giving such an expensive clothing pieces away?! Like.... one, two, three. Three boxershorts! And each of them around 70 euros! Together twice as much as the outfit I wore just moments ago! ''
''Dude, calm. It's fine.'' Jake said indifferently. ''The more astonishing fact is that apparently those three high-quality boxers are just twice as expensive, like seriously, that would mean those ragged knockouts costed all-together 105 euro! Did you bang your head against a wall, when you bought those trash-tier pieces for such an exorbitant usury-price?''
''But seriously, if most of your clothes are branded, how can you pay for all that?!''
''Oh well, I worked some jobs, and my mom gives me some clothing allowance every month— well not anymore....''
''Can you really afford this entire wardrobe full of clothes with that income? Like jobs for fourteen- to eighteen-year-olds don't pay that much, right? Not so much as to pay all this,'' Selucas pointed at the abundant wardrobe. ''Or did your mother give like three thousand euros a month or something?''
Jake laughed a bit uncomfortable and said: ''Well, I have done some dark errands, so to speak.... and I took some loaning's and stuff.''
Selucas looked at him incomprehensibly: ''Dark errands, taking loans? Were you still a minor at that time? But even so, is it even possible for an eighteen-year-old to take on loans?''
''Not bank loans, more like street loans, so to say,'' Jake laughed it off, ending with an awkward smile: ''I have my ways, you know— don't be concerned, nothing illegal.''
Selucas glance was full scepticism and doubt, but he did not decide to go further on it, because that would ruin the mood. He moved the subject to: ''So, I guess I can't immediately put on that utility jacket, what do I wear underneath it?''
''Next is a basic slim-fit t-shirt with long sleeves and three upper-buttons; slim-fit enhances your muscles and posture, adding freshness to your appearance, making your beautiful body look more visible, which significantly increases your attractiveness'' Jake said, while looking through his collection, which had many basic white shirts. ''This one fits you best I think, because I wore it when I was sixteen, at that time my weight and length were probably similar to yours, approximately 66 kilograms.''
Selucas put on the shirt and indeed its fit suited him well, he looked very sexy in it, because his strong posture and muscles were way more visible now. ''Roll up your sleeves, woman like that,'' Jake added friendly. ''Oh, and undo two of your buttons; revealed skin raises your sex-appeal!''
''Can I now put on the camel-toned utility jacket?''
''Yes, and here are some nice white sneakers,'' Jake handed him two pure-white sneakers— the classic and sporty Nike Air Force 1 '07 EasyOn.
''Whoa,'' Selucas startled. ''Those sneakers are practically new! You can't give me those!''
''I already have enough shoes, like seriously— maybe eleven or thirteen sneakers?'' Jake didn't even know exactly the amount of sneakers he had, so bad was his addiction for them.
''Seriously dude? Thirteen sneakers?!'' Selucas was wonder-struck by that number. ''You really spend money too easily, Jake, like come on....''
''I know, I know,'' Jake said while grinning shamelessly. ''But you know, sneakers are my thing.''
''Wasn't your hair your thing?''
''Sneakers also, preferably the complete white ones, because that gives the most sporty, energetic and vigorous look.''
''You're so shameless Jake, spending too much money and living beyond your means is a really bad thing!'' Selucas said rigorously. ''How high are you in debts? Like stratospheric high?''
''I have some debts, yes,'' Jake said sorrowfully with a low-pitch voice. He now sat himself slouched forward on his bed, elbows on his knees, hands fidgeting with a loose thread on his sleeve. His usual confident posture had vanished, replaced by a kind of inward collapse— as if he was trying to make himself smaller, hoping this painful conversation would pass over him like a wave.
''How many euros? And does your mother know about them?'' Selucas now asked worried; his head was tilted, and his eyes were squeezed, the soft bags under his eyes thickened remarkable.
''Adding student debt to my personal debt and the total would be near forty-five thousand euro,'' Jake said honestly with a pained face, while his voice seemed to drop a notch at every honestly given answer, he became hoarse. This was a subject he did not like to talk about.... It was poignant confronting. A reality he was not pleased to accept, to admit. His debts were reminders of his old life that still gnawed at him, chains that are not easy to loosen.
It's so hard being modest.... Jake thought ashamed. Mom and Selucas are right.... I spend money like I'm scooping water out of a sinking boat.
''Holy shit, Jake.... And you still give me your clothes?! You should sell at least three quarters of your wardrobe, let's be honest, dude....'' Selucas said concerned.
''Don't be worried, dude,'' Jake tried to say indifferent and unconcerned, a pathetic fake-smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. ''I'm still young and eventually I will be able to get out of my money problems— you should not decline my presents to you; I give them out of good will and with good consideration.''
''Having a debt of forty-five-thousand euro at the age of eighteen is really fucked-up....'' Selucas continued to persevere.
Jake's cheeks flushed with a quiet, bitter heat. "I mean.... yeah, I've kinda been living like a prince," he muttered, forcing a laugh that fell flat. It was half-joke, half-confession. The words hung in the air like smoke— thin, uncomfortable, and hard to ignore. ''Believe me, it was necessary.... I had to protect my position,'' he mumbled on.
He ran a hand through his hair, then sighed, rubbing the back of his neck like he could massage the shame out of his spine. ''I know my habits are trash,'' he finally admitted loudly. ''And I am working on them, but please Selucas, accept the clothes I gave you.... I really want you to look good, you deserve to look good! Like seriously, you're so handsome!''
Selucas flustered, for a moment he did not know what to say, but then he regained his strength and with that he tried to resume the subject regarding Jake's financial situation; a subject close to his heart— these last few hours really strengthened the knot in their relationship, Jake being in trouble was something he really hated, because he was convinced that Jake was a good, kind person, a friend and Selucas didn't want to see drowning in dirty mud.
''Are you working right now?'' Selucas said sombre, with a strained face dyed in pale worry.
''No, I don't work, but I want to eventually start working again.''
''You know, my father has just recently started his own carpentry and home renovation company, and I work for him, we still need extra work force and help, so if you want to earn some money, you could join us.''
''Like, really? That sounds amazing Selucas!'' Jake said enthusiastically. ''My mother already keeps vexing me non-stop with annoying remarks about me being a lazy slacker and stuff— it would make happy if I could join you and your dad, earning fair money with honest work!''
''I will contact my dad on that; he will be delighted!'' Selucas said glad.
''Then that's settled,'' Jake said happily while collecting Selucas' clothes he had just worn minutes ago before his striptease. ''I could even begin working tomorrow if that was a possibility. Like, really, I seriously need to start working again. Real work; honest work! No shady stuff anymore.''
''All good,'' the blond-haired young man said while looking at his mate (randomly out of nowhere touching and picking up clothes he despises like cursed objects) suspiciously. Selucas decided to say: ''Why are you taking my clothes? I thought you found them scabby.... and unworthy trash.''
''I am going to throw them away for you, in the trashcan where it belongs,'' Jake said neutral in casual tone, the self-embarrassment and limp posture from two minutes ago had disappeared, making way for his usual unconcerned and shameless behaviour.
''No, no, Jake!'' Selucas said with shock. ''That would be a grave waste! And it is not good for the environment!''
''The dressmaker of these crappy pieces should not have produced this trash in the first place,'' Jake said with disdain in his voice. ''And you should not have bought this trash in the first place!''
''Wait, wait, Jake,'' Selucas said horrified and disturbed. ''I promise I will not wear it anymore, okey? But please, don't throw it away, it's still good and wearable! I will sell them okey?''
''Well, if you honestly promise me that, I will give it back. But don't you dare neglecting yourself by wearing such shabby trash! You deserve clothes that fit your beautiful body, handsome face and vigorous posture! It's the function of clothes to enhance you, to amplify your beauty! So, promise me to keep wearing the clothes that I gave you now and.... Next time buy clothes that fits you! Okey?'' Jake said in a long, overdue preach-like dialogue.
''Yes, Jake, believe me, I am now whole-heartedly convinced of the swagger gospel. I hereby solemnly promise that from now on, I shall only wear clothes that fit my body and posture neatly,'' Selucas said hurriedly in slight panic, fearing for the fate of his scabby clothes.
''Now the transformation is complete,'' Jake said solemnly. ''Because now you truly understand the meaning of swagger. Look at yourself in the mirror, dude. Just look. Here.'' He pointed at a mirror in the aisle, outside his room. ''Behold your true beauty.''