The Lonely End of the Rink, Master Post
Title: The Lonely End of the Rink
Pairing: Marcus/Esca
Rating: NC-17
Summary: I looked up and you were there, just sitting there all alone, holding your fist in the air, like, if you need me you're on your own. At the lonely end of the rink, you and me.
I hear your voice ‘cross a frozen lake, a voice from the end of a leaf, saying, ‘you won’t die of a thousand fakes or be beaten by the sweetest of dekes’. At the lonely end of the rink, you and me.
Word Count:100,000-ish in 7 parts, COMPLETE
Disclaimer: These beautiful boys belong to Rosemary Sutcliff and Focus Features, dammit. I just like making them do filthy, wonderful things to each other.
Author’s Notes:
1) This fic is a modern AU inspired by a prompt at the_eagle_kink, and it totally took my brain over, pouring out of me like a flood. It was truly frightening to watch.
2) I tried to make everything as accurate as possible, draft req’s, picked a smallish town in BC where the local team plays in the same arena as the figure skating club, Olympic qualifying, etc. To make things even better, the Canucks trips to the Stanley Cup Final happily coincide with my timeline, so I rewrote history a bit, slipping in the Aquila family into the hockey world in the area. Consider this a bit of a fix it fic, 2011 Stanley Cup Final wise. ;) Also, this takes place in 2008-2009, just in time for Esca to qualify for the Vancouver Olympics (rewriting history there too, heehee) and Marcus the 2011 Stanley Cup.
3) For the purposes of this fic I’ve eased up on the typical game schedule for Marcus’ team. I needed him to have more time and frankly, I didn't want to be constantly juggling home games, away games and practices. Also, there would be a lot more going on regarding scouting and demands on Marcus’ time etc, but hey, it’s an au, right? Creative license and all that, so suspend your disbelief a bit, if you would. Esca would likely practice more at that stage of competition as well not to mention he’d likely be studying with tutors, but I tried to be as accurate as I could while still allowing the fic to work well. I hope it does.
4) The title of the fic and the songs in all the parts are Tragically Hip songs, Marcus’ favorite band as well as my own. They are arguably Canada’s greatest band (I think they are. ;)) and they fit so well, it was meant to be, or something. The fanmix is a Hip fanmix, reflecting Marcus’ journey.
5) Me getting into this fandom was also meant to be, perhaps written in the star I choose as a namesake six years ago when I started this lj. :) Coincidence? I think not. ;)
6)This fic is a modern AU filled with hockey, figure skating, high school, a smattering of original and movie characters, with a hefty dose of Canadiana. It is a fic that deals with real life situations and attitudes, not a fluff piece, so keep that in mind.
7) I have the best betas/enablers ever. These ladies not only sucked me into this fandom, but they drove this fic like a Mack truck and I’m not ashamed to say it took over my life for a month during the creation of it. My poor kids. My poor house. nikki4noo and 7ofeleven you both own my soul, and I think you know it. ♥
Part One
Part Two
Part Three
Part Four
Part Five
Part Six
Part Seven
No Standing Still, a timestamp set 5-6 years in the future.
About halfway through the writing of this monster I had a vision for a banner, and, with plenty of tweaking, I came up with the one above.
Also, my trusty sidekick (lol) nikki4noo took the idea into her own capable hands and turned out quite a selection, two wallpapers, a banner, and covers for the fanmix. I am eternally grateful, and pretty darn thrilled. :D Although I must admit, her enthusiasm for taking on the graphics herself was partially due to her need for me to ‘WRITE MOAR!’ and leave the rest to her. As always, her wish is my command.
Feel free to use these, if you wish, but credit should be given to nikki4noo, thanks peeps.
Banner:
Wallpapers:
Click for download links
Click for download links
This fanmix was inspired by the songs, which were inspired by the journey, and it all just came together so well that I couldn’t resist. This is a Tragically Hip fanmix, and it reflects Marcus’ passion and his journey.
Cover:
Back:
NEW UPLOAD LINK
Download the mix + artwork
Spoilers in little bits below, read with caution. Unless, yk, you like that kind of thing. ;)
1 The Lonely End of the Rink
I looked up and you were there, just sitting there all alone,
Holding your fist in the air, like, if you need me you're on your own.
You drove me home through a snowy tomb, I fell asleep in my seat.
I had the dream of having no room, you were there just staring at me.
I hear your voice ‘cross a frozen lake, a voice from the end of a leaf,
saying, ‘you won’t die of a thousand fakes or be beaten by the sweetest of dekes’.
At the lonely end of the rink, you and me.
At the lonely end of the rink, you and me.
Oh to join the rush, as the season builds.
He'd almost forgotten about the figure skater, until a voice called out.
“Oi, hockey boy,” it said in a crisp British accent, and Marcus stopped in shock, spinning around. He had been expecting some too-thin, snobbish, pampered girl, but the voice that called him was decidedly male. When he saw the boy it belonged to his mouth dried up and his jaw dropped open.
2 Summer’s Killing Us
And does everybody know your wishes?
'Cause this tune will do you like the dishes.
The summer's killing us, let's just sing, sing, sing all day.
It's as if summer just exists in her praises.
A time for more to happen sooner, a time to be a person you still know.
To float a while on your sure power, ‘til you say "Canada lost, go home".
Summer exists in a doorway.
Summer exists at the fair.
Summer is forever changes.
Summer's taking me all the way.
The rest of the July passed with more of the same, and continued into August. Esca slowly warmed up to Marcus' presence and with every encounter Marcus became more adept at hiding his responses, schooling his features into friendly enthusiasm instead of slack jawed gaping. Esca never ceased to be beautiful though, and it was a challenge for Marcus.
3 Everytime you go
She closed both her eyes, sorta gave him a kiss.
Said, "don't worry baby, what you're gonna miss.
There will always be much, much more than this"
Everytime you go, you are all I see.
Holding out for you and me.
And the big snake pit, and we danced to the edge of it,
and we laugh and we laugh, cause we ain't seen the half of it.
Finally Esca broke the silence, saying, “goodnight, Marcus,” in a quiet, intense voice.
“Goodnight,” Marcus replied, swallowing thickly.
And Esca was off, disappearing into the building as Marcus leaned his head back and closed his eyes, breathing as heavily as if he’d just played a shift on the ice.
4 Boots or Hearts
Well you won't even let me talk to you, we got some air to clear.
Well, we'd probably only agree on one thing anyway,
That's what the hell is happening here?
Fingers and toes, fingers and toes, forty things we share.
Forty-one if you include, the fact that we don't care
See when it starts to fall apart, It really falls apart.
Like boots or hearts, oh when they start, they really fall apart.
“So you are gay, then?” Robert asked.
“Not that it’s any of your business,” Esca said. “But I’m not going to hide it or pretend I’m someone else to impress you bozos.”
He grabbed his satchel and stood, swinging it over his shoulder. “If you want to stay and listen to these idiots, feel free,” he said to Marcus smoothly, but he looked pissed. “But I have better things to do than allow them try to insult me for something I’m not ashamed of. See ya.”
He walked away without another word, leaving a stunned Marcus with the other three, all watching him go.
5 Speed River
You're visually stunning, I'm almost shivering.
You'd become anyone, don't hate who you have to be.
Awake enough, this feels like I've been here before.
You said “don't be tough, let's go back,”
I said, “let's go forward.”
Speed river, take me away.
Speed river, took you away.
Speed river, took her away.
Away from this, away this minute.
Away for one moment.
Away from this feeling, from feeling this.
Away from this moment.
Away from feeling this.
He’d never kissed anyone before and found himself increasingly wishing it was Esca who he was kissing. So much so that several times he’d had to pull out of the kiss to assure himself he was kissing Cottia instead.
Until she began to press closer, which was a brand new frustration.
If Marcus had maintained any further doubts that he was gay, feeling Cottia’s full breasts pressed against his chest as she kissed him would have done away with them. He had no more illusions on that score, though he steadfastly held to his conviction that he could pretend, that he could show one thing to the world and keep the truth to himself.
6 Last Night I Dreamed
Last night you left me derelict and disappeared for ages.
You just said, “honey save those tears of yours for the show.”
Oh, last night I dreamed, last night I dreamed, darkly nurtured dreams.
None of them were half as frightening as,
Canada, emptied, there was me, beside you, featureless and freezing.
Last night I dreamed you didn't love me.
You didn't love me.
What's happening to you?
Why don't you love me like you used to?
When you kissed my fingers and made me love you.
When you kissed my fingers and made me love you.
“Marcus,” Esca repeated between kisses, tugging Marcus closer, his legs falling open to admit Marcus between them. “Finally,” he whispered, smiling against Marcus’ mouth, opening for another kiss, but Marcus jerked back, stepping out of his embrace, shuddering as the cold rushed in between them once more.
“No, I...this isn’t how it’s supposed, I can’t,” he babbled, staring fixedly at Esca’s shocked face and his red, shiny lips. “No, no, it’s...I’m...I’ll see you,” he said, tearing himself away, not missing the betrayed look flash over Esca’s face.
“Marcus!” he called, but Marcus didn’t turn back as he jogged toward the road. “Marcus, don’t!” he tried again, but Marcus just dashed across the street, his heart pounding as Esca’s voice faded away behind him.
7 Luv (Sic)
There are words I carry in my heart.
Words I carry in my heart.
Clung to, glad of, uncommonly held.
Peculiarly interlaced. remembered and felt.
Am I lovesick?
It's as if love's the only virtue there is.
Am I lovesick?
The plot thins, emotions get frayed.
Attractions move through the shade.
Done for, delight in, and forever held.
Influence, given life, remembered and felt.
Am I lovesick?
It's not as if love's the only virtue there is.
Am I lovesick?
Marcus groaned when the kiss deepened, letting go of Esca’s other hand to press his own against Esca’s strong jaw, rough with stubble.
Just when it started to get interesting, Esca pulled back, panting, giving Marcus a shove, wrenching them apart.
“Remember that when you sign your precious contract, you bloody coward. Because you won’t be getting it again. We’re through.” Esca turned and slammed open the stairwell door, which swung shut behind him with a clang, leaving Marcus panting and confused, his cock hard and his chest aching.
8 Now the Struggle Has a Name
Gone, like an attraction, like the sun in a mirror.
Gone, like it was destined to simply disappear.
Gone, like Honey Watson.
Applause can begin, the song is almost done.
Applause begins.
Now the struggle has a name.
It doesn't fade, it hasn't changed.
I still feel the same, now the struggle has a name.
Now the struggle has a name.
We are the same, it hasn't changed.
I still feel the same, now the struggle has a name.
And Honey Watson, I struggle on.
He turned toward where Marcus and the others were seated, his eyes scanning the crowd as he waved his thanks.
Then he froze as he spotted them, his gaze meeting Marcus’ across the distance, but it didn’t matter to Marcus. It was the most he’d seen of Esca in weeks, and he was desperate not to lose it.
But Esca moved again, tearing his gaze away from Marcus and continued around the rink, bowing and waving to the crowd.
9 Courage
There's no simple explanation for anything important any of us do.
And yeah the human tragedy consists in the necessity of living with the consequences.
Under pressure, under pressure.
Courage, my word, it didn't come, it doesn't matter.
Courage, your word, it didn't come, it doesn't matter.
Courage, my word, it didn''t come, it doesn't matter.
Courage, it couldn't come at a worse time.
Marcus had known that his article was coming, he was expecting to see it in that day’s paper, but still, seeing the title and his name on the front page was a shock. And once the shock wore off, the apprehension and fear set in. What if he was wrong? What if it didn’t all work out, what if everyone hated him and Esca still wouldn’t talk to him?
10 Fireworks
If there's a goal that everyone remembers, it was back in ole' 72.
We all squeezed the stick and we all pulled the trigger, and all I remember was sitting beside you.
You said you didn't give a fuck about hockey, and I never saw someone say that before.
You held my hand and we walked home the long way, you were loosening my grip on Bobby Orr.
Isn't it amazing anything's accomplished?
When the little sensation gets in your way.
Not one ambition whisperin' over your shoulder.
Isn't it amazing you can do anything?
They stumbled back and fell, sliding down a few steps, limbs tangled. They laughed at each other for a moment, eyes catching as they panted in each other’s breaths. Marcus pressed his head against Esca’s, overwhelmed that it was finally happening.
“I thought you’d never,” he began, but Esca cut him off with a kiss, sucking on his bottom lip and swiping with his tongue, pulling back as Marcus started to kiss back.
“I thought you’d never,” Esca repeated, rubbing his thumb across Marcus’ jaw. “Let’s go upstairs.”
11 Gift Shop
The beautiful lull, the dangerous tug.
We get to feel small, from high up above.
And after a glimpse, over the top,
The rest of the world, becomes a giftshop.
“Wait,” he said quietly, pulling Esca back toward him and wrapping his arms around Esca’s back. He kissed Esca, slowly and thoroughly, finally pulling back with a sigh, pressing their foreheads together and just breathing him in for a moment.
“Okay,” he said, taking a step back but keeping hold of Esca’s hand. “Let’s go face the music.”
12 As I Wind Down the Pines
To play without stopping or pause, not for silence, not for applause.
Not without thinking, and thinking’s abandoning thought.
As I wind down the pines.
It’s the lines on your face, playing on your face.
“Now let’s get some breakfast, hockey boy,” Esca said, giving Marcus a shove. “Your treat.”
“Anything you want, it’s all yours,” Marcus said, watching Esca walk around the truck, licking his lips. He unlocked the door, and that’s when he noticed several of his teammates congregated by another vehicle, all watching the scene unfold with varying expressions ranging from shock to outright disgust. Marcus gave them a little wave and then got in, fastening his seatbelt and putting the truck into gear, not sparing them another thought.
13 Bring it all Back
Bringing me down, the obvious turns out to be true.
All that I couldn't see, how it was turning me on.
I don't want to pare you down.
No, I don't want to wear you down.
I don't want any more than what's there.
No, I don't want to pare you down.
Well you got what you want.
You wanted release.
Can you be appeased?
Can you bring it all back to me?
Just bring Just bring it all back to me
It's all that I want.
It's all that I need.
It's all that I want.
“I know, it was, wow,” Marcus slurred, exhaustion overtaking him as his heart slowed to a normal beat. “Can we do that again?”
Esca laughed, breath still shaky, but evening out. “Oh yes, we will be doing that again,” he said at last, rolling onto his side and caressing Marcus’ cheek, his fingers slipping over Marcus’ lips as his hand fell to the bed, slack.
“Good,” Marcus said, closing his eyes and reveling in the feeling, the soaring, weightless way he’d felt when he’d come, Esca’s grip on his hips, the sweaty, shaky muscles, weak from the strain, the fullness of Esca inside him leaving behind an emptiness that, instead of making him feel like less, made him feel fuller, sated in a way he’d had no idea he could experience.
14 In View
I love you. You know I do.
Yeah, it’s perfect…well, it isn’t and it is.
And I’ve been meaning to call you.
I’ve been meaning to call you.
Then I do.
I’ve been meaning to call you.
I’ve been meaning to call you.
Then I do.
Phone rings once,
Phone rings twice,
Phone rings three times.
I am of you.
You are always in view.
I am my will.
You are in everything I do.
The kiss slowed right away, less about sex and more about closeness, about bridging the gap until they would see each other again. The finally pulled back, after what felt like only a moment but must have been ten minutes easily. Marcus’ cock was quickly hardening again, but he pushed his arousal aside, wanting to just hold Esca like this for as long as he could.
“Don’t go finding someone else while I’m gone,” Esca said, carding his hand through Marcus’ hair and then tugging it, pulling his head up so their eyes met. “Promise.”
“I’ll be too busy missing you,” Marcus replied, holding Esca’s gaze.
15 We’ll go Too
The curtain climbs over me every morning.
I don't know why I'm so immunized against reforming.
To coldly slap at a face full of nothing.
You never know it could've been one of those looks of longing.
What can you do, they're all gone and we'll go too.
What can you do, they're all gone. We'll go too.
Far too soon, Esca pulled back, leaving Marcus a panting mess, his lips tingly from the force of Esca’s kisses, but it only served to make him want more.
“It’s time to go, I think,” Esca said, sliding back over into his seat and refastening his seatbelt. “Everyone else has been gone for a while.”
Marcus tore his eyes away from Esca’s moist, shiny lips and looked outside, shocked to see that they were in fact, quite alone in the parking lot.
16 Beautiful Thing
So we talked about things and where they went, big remarkable events.
And how each day's a new day and they get spent.
How you'd continue, artfully, like the breeze, trying to do one true beautiful thing.
Your beautiful thing, it'd be a beautiful thing,
to see that beautiful thing, continuing.
Your beautiful thing, continuing.
Marcus lifted his head, meeting Esca’s eyes. “You really wanted me then? I couldn’t tell, you were so...prickly.”
Esca chuckled softly. “I’ve always been prickly,” he said. “Mum used to call me a bad tempered hedgehog when I was angry.”
“It suits you,” Marcus said, grinning when Esca scowled at him. “But I like it.”
“Good, because you’re stuck with me,” Esca said, pushing Marcus back so that he could remove the waistcoat. “And you were cheerful and friendly and I was a bit overwhelmed. Wanting you was the first positive thing I’d felt since...” he trailed off, his mood darkening.
“I’m glad,” Marcus said, cupping Esca’s face and kissing him gently.
17 You’re Everywhere
You are there when I stop writing things down, and when I forget about who I am now.
Forget about who's kissing her, who's behind my plow.
Now it's time to drown all of that poetry out.
Somehow where democracy is how we all learn to sleep with ourselves.
Drawing to ourselves everything we can carry.
When I reel my irish in, when I sleep in the rain.
In straight lines, through shadows, you're there.
Where the future lies, under no moon at night.
At the ballroom, hanging, you're there.
There's no escaping this dream.
We're dancing with no distractions.
Esca laughed, shaking his head at Marcus’ attempt at humour. “Silly boy,” he said softly. “You’d be lost without me.”
The smile slipped off Marcus’ face as the weight of Esca’s words settled over him. “I would,” he replied, sliding up so that they were level. “It doesn’t bear thinking about.”
“Good,” Esca whispered. running his fingertips across Marcus’ face, forehead, cheek and jaw, before sliding over his lips. “Because I’d be lost without you, as well. I love you, hockey boy.”
Marcus smiled again, his chest feeling tight and painful but, unlike it had before, in a good way, a way that made him want this moment to last forever. “I love you too.”
18 Fifty Mission Cap
Bill Barilko disappeared that summer.
He was on a fishing trip.
The last goal he ever scored, won the Leafs the cup.
They didn't win another until 1962, the year he was discovered.
I stole this from a hockey card, I kept tucked up under my fifty mission cap.
I worked it in, I worked it in to look like that.
When he passed the Cup on to the next player, whispering ‘for my father,’ and kissing it swiftly as he let it go, it didn’t leave him bereft, but rather fulfilled. Whole and finally at complete peace with himself and his place in the world, the smell of the ice and the roar of the crowd a backdrop to the rest of his life, where Esca was waiting and he was home.