Fic: The Lonely End of the Rink, Part 1.2
Master post with extended Author’s Notes, banners and fanmix, as well as links to all the parts here.
Part 1.1
After they were done with the hockey game, during which Esca asked dozens of questions, he pulled out a dvd from his satchel and put it in, giving Marcus a lesson in figure skating, from moves to judging to politics. Marcus' head was spinning by the time 6pm rolled around, and his stomach was growling. Learning was hungry work, it seemed.
They made their way down to the kitchen, joining Marcus' uncle at the table. Sassy gave Marcus a kiss on the forehead and patted Esca on the cheek again, before calling her good byes over her shoulder as she headed for the door.
“Right then, let's eat,” Marcus' uncle said, picking up a dish and leading the way to the table. The boys followed his lead to the dining room where the table was already set.
“So, did you boys have a good afternoon?” Uncle asked.
Marcus nodded his response, his mouth full of wild mushroom risotto, one of his favorites. Sassy was a genius in the kitchen.
“It was enlightening,” Esca said. “I never realized there was so much involved with slapping a puck around the ice.”
“And we didn't even get into the strategy much,” Marcus added with a grin.
“Indeed,” his uncle agreed, nodding sagely. “Hockey is more complex than it seems to the casual observer and it's taken very seriously around here, especially by this one.” He pointed his fork in Marcus' direction.
“This is wonderful,” Esca remarked, taking another bite of the risotto.
“Marcus’ favorite, Sassy spoils him too much, I think,” Uncle said, shaking his head. “She says it’s to make up for him not having a mother, but I think she just likes to spoil him.”
“What happened to your mother?” Esca asked Marcus solemnly. “If you don’t mind me asking.”
“No, I don’t mind,” Marcus said. “It was a long time ago, I don’t really remember her. She died in a car crash.”
“Drunk driver,” Uncle added, his face grim. “Marcus was not even three, and his father brought him here shortly after. He was on the road all the time, so he couldn’t take care of the boy on his own.”
“You didn’t mind, did you?” Marcus asked, wondering for not the first time if his uncle held any resentment at having had to raise his nephew alone.
“No, not at all,” Uncle said, giving Marcus a fond smile. “I’d often complained I didn’t get to see you enough, and I knew I wouldn’t have a family of my own, so it was ideal, really. I’ve valued having you here all these years, and I’m not looking forward to you leaving. It’ll be lonely here all over again.”
“Sorry, Uncle,” Marcus said, patting him on the arm. “That’s the way life goes, isn’t it?”
“It is indeed, mores the pity. If I had a choice I’d keep you a fourteen year old forever. Just old enough to pick up after yourself and not need a baby sitter, but young enough that I didn’t have to worry about you driving that truck around town at all hours.”
“When have I ever done that?” Marcus asked, indignant.
“You haven’t, I admit,” Uncle answered with a smirk. “But you could start anytime. I’m not sure my ancient heart could handle the worry.”
“You’re not that old,” Marcus said, laughing. “Besides, I go to bed earlier than you, most nights.”
“Yes, you are as regular as the sun,” Uncle agreed, turning to Esca before continuing. “He’s a very self motivated young man, this one, sets himself a schedule and keeps to it. Up at dawn doing laps in the pool, in bed when most kids his age are just getting up.”
“Hey!” Marcus objected. “I’m not that bad.”
“If you insist,” Uncle said, with a wink at Esca. “It’s an admirable trait, Marcus, truly. I wish I was half as fastidious as you.”
“Well, I must have learned it somewhere,” Marcus said.
“Your father was a lot like that too, before,” he was interrupted by a loud knock on the front door, then a voice calling, “hello?” from the doorway.
“We’re in the kitchen!” Uncle hollered, making Marcus and Esca wince. Soon another man entered, as silver as Uncle and with a smile as wide.
“Good evening boys,” he said, pulling out the only remaining chair, opposite Esca, and sitting.
“Let me get you a plate,” Marcus said, standing up and padding into the kitchen.
“Esca, this is Stephan, my business partner. He’s an excellent asset, there’s no better eye in the real estate business, but he’s irredeemably late. This is why I see the clients and he does the paperwork.”
“Only if I must,” Stephan said with a cheeky grin. “It’s good to meet you, Esca. Do you play hockey with our Marcus?”
“No,” Esca said as Marcus set a plate and cutlery in front of Stephan. “I’m a figure skater.”
“And a British one, at that. You remember our trip to Britain, Frankie? Good time that, we should do it again soon.”
“We should,” Uncle agreed. “Before we get too old.” They shared a laugh, but Marcus just rolled his eyes at Esca.
“Oh, come on Frankie, these young lads don’t want to hear us reminisce about our glory days. They’re living theirs, aren’t you boys?”
“I can only speak for myself, but I have far too much practicing to do,” Marcus said, provoking a loud guffaw from Stephan.
“Soon then,” he said. “After you’re drafted you should take some time off to have fun.”
“If I am drafted I’ll have to work even hard to prove myself,” Marcus said. “You’ll just have to have some fun for me.”
“If you insist,” Stephan said, giving Marcus a hearty slap on the shoulder. “It’s a dirty job, but someone has got to do it.”
“You really should make some time to enjoy yourself, Marcus,” Uncle insisted. “You and Esca should go for a swim after dinner.”
“I swim every day,” Marcus said, looking at his plate.
“Laps,” Uncle said, shaking his head. “You swim laps, Marcus.”
“I have to keep in shape,” Marcus said.
“You don’t have to work that hard to keep in shape,” Stephan commented. “I’ve never seen anyone as fit as you are, especially at your age.”
“Esca’s as fit as I am,” Marcus pointed out and all eyes turned to Esca.
“And do you ever indulge yourself with fun, Esca?” Uncle asked.
“Occasionally,” Esca replied cautiously. “But Marcus is right. If I want to reach my goals, I have to work harder than everyone else. It doesn’t leave a lot of time for fun.”
“They spent the afternoon going over Marcus’ stash of games,” Uncle told Stephan. “No time for play, even at leisure.”
“Oh, what a pair these two make!” Stephan said with a laugh. “Both trying to out serious each other.”
“No telling who the victor will be,” Uncle joined in enthusiastically, laughing.
“Alright, alright,” Marcus said, standing up, clearing his dinner dishes. “Are you done?” he asked Esca.
“Very much,” he replied, following Marcus’ lead and clearing his dishes.
“Behave you two,” Marcus called back, leading Esca into the kitchen where they cleaned up their dishes and grabbed some pop from the fridge.
“Do you want to go swimming?” Marcus asked, trying not to look too hard at his motivations for asking.
“Sure,” Esca said. “Why not? Although it will play into their little game, you realize?”
“We’ll try not to have too much fun,” Marcus said with a laugh.
“You’re on.”
**
“There’s towels out in the cabana,” Marcus said as he led Esca out the the pool area. “Sassy usually keeps some trunks out there for me...wait, you don’t have anything to wear. I’d lend you mine, but I doubt they would fit.” He stopped and turned, but Esca went right past him, carrying on toward the pool.
“No problem,” Esca said, shooting a cheeky grin at Marcus over his shoulder. “I’ve got my skivvies.”
Marcus stood frozen for several moments before forcing one foot in front of the other and following Esca to the cabana to change. When he arrived he found Esca shirtless and undoing his pants. Marcus watched, dumbfounded as he bent over to push them down, pulling his socks off as well.
Marcus was only able to tear his eyes away from Esca’s barely covered ass when tempted with the sight of his long, muscular legs.
“Are you getting changed?” Esca asked, straightening and folding his pants, laying them on the bench atop his shirt. Marcus pulled his gaze away and pulled his own shirt off, turning away as Esca faced him again.
“I’ll only be a minute,” he said, grabbing his trunks from a shelf.
“I’ll meet you out there,” Esca said, and Marcus breathed a sigh of relief as he was left alone in the cabana. He was regretting having ever opened his mouth. He took a few extra minutes getting changed, convincing himself that he could handle this, that he had to handle it. He’d have no career if his secret got out, and all his hard work would be for nothing.
When he thought himself calm enough, he left the cabana, only to lose his cool once more at the sight of Esca crouching over the pool, using the net to drag a few leaves out of the water. He then lifted the net up, swinging it in an arc over his body to dump the leaves over the fence onto the grass.
Marcus was transfixed once more as drops of water spattered across Esca’s chest and shoulders. He forced himself to look away, calling, “you all set?” when Esca put the net away.
“You have a diving board, I can’t wait to try it out!” Esca said enthusiastically. “I haven’t been on one for months.”
“Don’t tell me you’re a diver too,” Marcus said, pushing aside his preoccupation to focus on what Esca was saying, not on what he was wearing.
“Don’t be ridiculous, hockey boy,” Esca said with a laugh, climbing up the ladder and then walking out onto the diving board. He bounced a little, testing out the tension before jumping, once, twice and launching himself into the air, twisting his body lazily in two full rotations before gravity kicked in, pulling him down into the water with surprisingly little splash.
By the time he came back to the surface, Marcus had climbed out onto the diving board. “You’ve never taken diving lessons, have you?” he said, putting his hands on his hips and shaking his head at Esca, who was pulling himself out of the pool, no ladder needed. Marcus swallowed, focusing on his own dive, though it wasn’t near as showy as Esca’s.
When he resurfaced, Esca was sitting at the edge of the pool with his legs in, grinning at Marcus.
“I haven’t,” he said. “My old coach had me train on the diving board, to help me with jumps and spins. All the rotations, you know.”
“Ahh,” Marcus said, reaching the edge of the pool, crossing his arms on the deck and looking up at Esca, who was thankfully shielding him from the sun. “That makes sense, I guess.”
“It helped a lot, actually. It’s easier to train your body to do the revolutions when you give it a boost, and from there it was easier to get the jumps right. On the other hand, it didn’t help me learn how to stick the landings.” Esca was smiling down at him, his hair looking almost gold, silhouetted by the late evening sun. Marcus smiled back, his breathing growing heavier rather than lighter, the moment stretching impossibly.
Marcus had to do something to break the tension that was growing between them, so he reached up, letting his hand slide up Esca’s arm, his callused fingers catching slightly on Esca’s smooth skin. He shivered as goosebumps popped up under his fingers, but he kept going until he had a grasp of Esca’s elbow, then pulled with all his strength. It had the desired result, as Esca tumbled into the pool with a shout.
Marcus climbed out quickly, leaping onto the diving board and canon-balling into the water, splashing Esca just as he resurfaced.
“That does it!” Esca hollered once he’d pulled himself out of the pool again. He padded over to a bin on the poolside and pulled out a ball. “This is war, Aquila!” he said, tossing the ball at Marcus, who had just pulled himself up out of the pool. The ball hit him in the stomach and he fell back into the water with a laugh.
**
Once they’d exhausted themselves, they lay side by side on the deck chairs, soaking up the last of the day’s sunlight. Twilight was falling, and Esca looked as amazing in its light as he did in any other. Marcus sighed, wishing not for the first time that his life were less complicated, although he’d never before wished so hard that he could let go and just be himself.
Although, even if he could, there was no guarantee that Esca would be agreeable, so perhaps things were better the way they were.
“What time is it, do you reckon?” Esca asked, scratching his flushed shoulders.
“Time to get inside, by the look of you. You’ll probably have a bit of a burn, you pasty thing,” Marcus teased.
“I’ve never tanned well,” Esca remarked. “It won’t be the last time I’ve burned.”
Marcus twisted around to look at the clock his uncle had installed on the side of the house several years ago, so Marcus wouldn’t spend all day in the pool. “It’s almost 8:30.”
“Ahh, I’d better get going, then,” Esca said, standing and stretching. Marcus looked away, getting up as well.
“Your grandma worry about you out so late?” Marcus said with a smirk, earning a flick from Esca’s towel. He’d managed to get Esca to tell him a few things, namely that he’d moved in with his grandmother on his father’s side, admitting that he was lucky to have someone living in a place where he had located a coach who could help him progress in his skating.
“Knowing my Nan, she’ll probably be out when I get back,” Esca said, padding alongside Marcus toward the cabana. “Always out with one friend or another. It’s sad when your grandmother has a more active social life than you, you know?”
“Well, you’ve just moved, so it’s understandable,” Marcus said, nudging Esca’s shoulder with his elbow.
“I try and remind myself of that every time she heads out for another night on the town.” They shared a laugh as they entered the cabana, each grabbing their clothes and retreating into the changing stalls.
When Marcus had finished changing he pulled back the curtain on his stall to see Esca squeezing the water out of his briefs. Suddenly it occurred to Marcus that Esca was holding his underwear and therefore could not be wearing it. His eyes dropped to the top of Esca’s pants where they hung low, his hipbones visible under the waistband. He was unable to stop himself from imagining if the skin under that one flimsy layer of fabric was as soft as the skin on Esca’s arm had been.
He shuddered again as he had when he’d felt that skin first-hand, turning away to drop his towel in the hamper, looking up again only to be smacked in the face with Esca’s towel. As he peeled it from his head, he decidedly was not thinking about what part of Esca’s body it had recently dried. Esca laughed at him as he pulled on his t-shirt, and Marcus couldn’t help but grin back.
His denial was hanging by a thread and had been since he’d met Esca.
**
The drive back to town was quiet, in a comfortable way, which was nice. When he dropped Esca off in front of his building he said, “see you tomorrow.”
“You will,” Esca told him with a smile that Marcus returned, their gazes holding again as it had in the pool. 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. He really needed to get a handle on this thing, before it spiralled out of control. He knew that distancing himself from Esca would help, but he really doubted he could do that and more importantly, he didn’t want to.
**
It was full dark by the time Marcus made it home, but he’d taken a few detours to try and clear his head. He hadn’t had much success, but he’d needed to try.
When he got inside, Marcus could hear muffled sounds from the tv room, so he padded down the hall and went in, slumping down on the couch beside his uncle. They sat in silence for a long while, watching the program Uncle had on. It was something about Ancient Rome and how they conquered Britain, historical clap trap that Marcus was usually more interested in.
Finally Uncle spoke up. “Took Esca home, did you?” he said, not looking away from the tv.
“Mmhmm,” Marcus hummed.
“He’s an awfully nice boy, Marcus,” Uncle commented.
“I know,” Marcus said, trying hard not to think about how nice he was. How nice he looked. How nice his skin had felt under Marcus’ hand. He shifted on the couch, suddenly restless, uncomfortable.
“I’d like to see him around more,” Uncle said, glancing over at Marcus, no doubt because of all the fidgeting.
“I hope you will,” Marcus answered simply. Uncle sighed and changed the subject.
“So your birthday is coming up pretty fast,” he said, and Marcus hummed his agreement. Uncle continued, “I was wondering what you wanted to do this year. I wasn’t sure you’d want to have a party after what happened last year.”
“No thanks,” Marcus said vehemently. Last year he’d invited all his friends over for a pool party, he’d thought it a good idea at the time, but some of his friends had invited their friends and before long it had degenerated into a free for all. Some of the uninvited guests had brought various kinds of alcohol and began distributing it from the cabana, hidden from the ever more watchful eye of Marcus’ uncle. Many dishes and a deck chair had been destroyed, the pool needed to be emptied and refilled on account of several people using it as a vomit receptacle, and the cabana had smelled like alcohol for several days, even after a thorough cleaning by the less than pleased Sassy.
Marcus shuddered at the thought of a repeat. “I was thinking more along the lines of dinner in town. We can go early and hit a few of the sporting goods stores so I can get some new equipment for the season,” Marcus suggested.
“Do you need new equipment?” Uncle asked, and Marcus shrugged.
“It can’t hurt,” he said. Uncle snorted, amused.
“Nothing I buy you will equal last year’s gift, I’m warning you now,” he said, giving Marcus a smirk.
“Nothing could top it,” Marcus said. “I love that truck.”
“I know you do. And unlike many of your ruffians, I know you’ll care for it, even if you didn’t have to work for it,” Uncle said. “You work hard enough for everything else.”
“Thanks, Uncle,” Marcus said, smiling at him.
“Dinner in town then. We can pick some ridiculously expensive restaurant and make fools of ourselves in front of all the pretentious snobs and the people they’re trying to impress,” Uncle said, his smirk widening.
“Sounds great,” Marcus agreed. “I’d like to invite Sassy and Stephan, if that’s okay. We don’t have to bring any of the ruffians if you don’t want.” Marcus knew his uncle would agree, which was fine with him because he didn’t particularly want any of his friends to come anyway. He was feeling increasingly distant from them, anyway.
“We could bring Esca, if you like,” Uncle suggested, watching Marcus out of the corner of his eye.
“Yeah,” Marcus said, his cheeks flushing slightly at the thought of Esca dressed up for dinner. “Yeah, sounds good.”
“It’s settled then. Your birthday is a Thursday, but it would work best for Stephan and I to go on the Saturday. Alright?” Marcus nodded.
“We’ll make a day of it, then,” Uncle said. “I’ll let Stephan and Sassy know, you invite Esca. You’ll be seeing him tomorrow, I assume?”
“Yeah,” Marcus confirmed. “I’ll see if he’s free.”
“Good, good,” Uncle said, turning his attention back to the tv.
“It’s getting late, I’m off to bed, then,” Marcus said, standing. “Goodnight, Uncle.”
“Goodnight, Marcus.”
Marcus went upstairs, but he didn’t go to bed just yet, dropping onto the couch instead. His body was tired, it had been a late night and a busy day, but his mind was whirring with all that had happened. With Esca. He groaned, lying back and stretching out his legs, head resting on the armrest that Esca had propped himself on for most of the afternoon, arguing with Marcus about the little rules of hockey and how figure skating was so much more elegant and much more interesting than watching large men with no front teeth slap a piece of rubber around the ice.
Marcus smiled at the memory, he’d argued right back, insisting that it took skill, strength and plenty of quick thinking, awareness of one’s team and the opposing players, unlike sliding around the ice on one foot looking like some kind of malformed bird. They had both ended up in heaps of laughter, nudging each other in mock annoyance.
Suddenly a different picture of Esca flashed through his mind, from later in the evening. Esca on the edge of the pool, smiling down at him, all glowing hair and soft, smooth skin and white, straight teeth. Esca in the cabana after, wringing out his drenched briefs, all sharp hipbones and effortless grace. Esca, standing with one hand on the door of Marcus’ truck, staring at him with intense, unfathomable eyes, wishing him a good night in that low, intimate voice.
Marcus realized that he’d been stroking himself while the memories flashed through his mind, rubbing his now hard cock while visions of Esca danced in his head. He stopped, putting his hands behind his head and tried to will down his arousal, but it wasn’t working. He gave in with a groan, unfastening his jeans and pushing his underwear down enough to free his aching cock.
He wasn’t one for jacking off, generally, but then he’d been suppressing his sexual urges for so long that not doing it had become part of his routine. He only succumbed when his body insisted, but he kept it short and sweet, and tried not to think of anything but the touch of his hand around his swollen flesh.
This time, that was out the window. His mind was crowded with memories of Esca, in the pool, the cabana, the truck. In the rink, even at the dinner table, laughing with his uncle. Esca in his room, sitting in the very spot where Marcus lay working himself with fervour, faster and faster until he came with a shout, his whole body reverberating with the shock of the hardest, longest orgasm he’d ever had in his life.
He lay panting in the aftermath, his t-shirt and belly, not to mention his hand, covered in spunk. It was uncomfortable as it cooled, but Marcus couldn’t bring himself to care just yet, too overwhelmed with what he had just done to move, his body boneless from the release. He closed his eyes, thumping his head on the arm rest a few times in frustration.
He was royally screwed.
**
Esca had smiled widely when Marcus had invited him to go to the city with them, and accepted immediately. Marcus felt his stomach flip at Esca’s delight, and he found himself grinning like a loon for the rest of the day.
Until he’d got a phone call from Luke.
“Hiya, Luke,” he answered, still not down from his mood.
“Marcus, what’s up? You still skating circles around that rink, or what?” Luke teased.
“With my phone? Nah, all the calls would ruin my concentration, not that you’d know what that’s about,” Marcus teased back.
“Right, right, you’re ever so much more focused, I get it,” Luke said and Marcus could almost see the eye roll.
“Anyway, the lads and I were wondering what the plan is for your birthday this week. Gonna bust some more heads like last year, then?” he asked.
“Hell no,” Marcus said, repeating what he’d told his uncle. “No way am I doing that again, you can forget it.”
“Ahh man, that’s no good. What fun’s a birthday if you can’t party?” Luke said.
“That party was a disaster and you know it, Luke,” Marcus insisted. “Besides, I’ve got plan to go to Van with my Uncle on Saturday, he’s gonna drop a mint on a new kit.”
“You must be jizzing just thinking about it,” Luke said with a laugh.
“You are one disgusting bastard, Torus,” Marcus said, grimacing. He pointedly did not think about what he was had recently jacked off over.
“You love it, Aquila,” Luke said. “Fine, fine, no party this year. I guess we won’t see you until school then, eh?”
“Nah, although I guess I should pick up supplies while we’re in town,” Marcus said, not looking forward to shopping for school. He wanted the year to be over already, studying would only distract him from his practicing. He kept up straight A’s, mostly because memorization and regurgitation came easy to him, but he didn’t enjoy it.
“You should, that’ll be fun, eh? Shopping with Unc, just like when you were a babe,” Luke laughed.
“Ahh, fuck off, mate,” Marcus swore. “I’ll see you Tuesday.”
“Yeah, alright. Have a good week,” Luke said before hanging up.
Marcus sighed, thinking about school, and it occurred to him that Esca would be going too. His stomach clenched at the idea of sharing Esca with anyone else, with his team mates. They wouldn’t see Esca for what he was, they would only see the skates.
This year might be the best of his life, but it could just as easily be the worst.
**
Saturday came quickly and before Marcus knew it, he was in the back of his Uncle’s suv, pressed between the door and Esca. He hadn’t thought this part through properly. Esca was warm and firm against him, thigh to thigh and shoulder to shoulder. Marcus had to concentrate hard in order to focus on something, anything else, especially when Esca leaned closer and breathed onto his neck.
“Are they always like this?” he asked, in reference to the banter being tossed around between Sassy and Stephan.
“Pretty much,” Marcus said, trying to shift away slightly without looking like he was. “Sometimes Uncle breaks them up and sometimes he joins in. Today it seems he’s just going to let them go at it.”
“Well, at least it’s entertaining,” Esca said, smiling widely. Marcus couldn’t restrain his smile, so he nudged Esca with his elbow.
“Ahh, enough of this shitty music,” he said, digging out his iPod and giving Esca a headphone. “I’ll teach you all about The Hip.”
**
The day went surprisingly fast and, for once, Marcus didn’t hate it quite as much as he usually did. He was sure it was Esca’s presence that did it, made everything better. By the time they made it to dinner, choosing a more relaxed atmosphere after all, Marcus was as happy as he’d ever been.
Until, just outside the restaurant, waiting for Sassy and Stephan to bring the car back, seeing as Uncle had enjoyed the wine a bit too much, they ran into an old friend of his uncle’s, Claude Marcel.
“Claude, my old friend!” Uncle said, reaching forward to clasp hands with a man Marcus recalled only vaguely.
“Ahh, Frankie Aquila, it’s been far too long, far too long,” Claude said, shaking Uncle’s hand excitedly.
“It has,” Uncle agreed. “You remember my nephew, Marcus?” Marcus stepped forward and grasped the man’s hand, shaking firmly.
“I do, I do,” Claude said. “He was just a wee little thing, last I saw him. You’ve grown up well Marcus, very well indeed.” Claude reached up and patted Marcus’ cheek, running his hand along his arm on the way down. Marcus heard snort from Esca’s direction, that turned immediately into a cough.
“My friend, Esca MacCunoval,” Marcus said, gesturing at Esca, who took Claude’s hand briefly, shooting a highly amused look at Marcus.
“Lovely to meet you, and how wonderful to see you again Frankie, it’s been far too long,” Claude repeated, getting another snort-cough from Esca and making Marcus hold his hand up to his mouth, faking a cough as well. Clearly Claude had been as fond of the wine as Uncle.
A throat cleared from beside Claude, and he turned around, remembering his companion, a tall, still-faced man, dressed in a pretentious suit. Marcus thought briefly of his uncle’s words about people wanting to impress the rich snobs and had to suppress another laugh.
“Ahh, my assistant, Galen Placyd, a fine lad by all accounts, isn’t he now?” Claude said, as Placyd shook their hands in turn. Marcus pulled his away quickly, Placyd had a handshake like a dead fish, heavy and limp.
“A pleasure to meet you all, I’m sure,” he said, smiling smugly at them as if it wasn’t a pleasure at all, looking down his nose at Esca’s battered leather jacket. Marcus’ jaw tightened, and he clenched his fists. He thought Esca looked amazing in that jacket, it was worn and soft and made him look a bit like James Dean, though Marcus would deny it if pressed. And here was Placyd, looking down on him, as if his prissy suit was so much better.
“Aquila? I recall that name,” Placyd was saying, his voice full of smarm. “Have we ever met?” he asked Marcus, looking at him as if they shared some great secret. “I’m sure I’ve seen you before. Perhaps at Club Tribune? I play a wicked round of golf, if I say so myself.”
“He does, best putter on the green,” Claude was saying to Uncle.
“No, I don’t think so,” Marcus said, shaking his head. “I don’t play golf, I prefer hockey.”
“I thought all hockey players played golf,” Claude remarked. “Gives them something to swing at during the off season, eh?” He and Uncle shared a laugh, but Marcus was not particularly amused.
“Hockey, that’s where I’ve heard it,” Placyd broke in, a triumphant smirk on his face. “Are you any relation to Flavian Aquila, who played in the NHL? Wonderful goalie he was, so I’ve heard, until he let in the goal that lost the Canucks the Cup back in ‘94. Do you remember that, Claude?” Placyd looked imploringly at Claude who nodded along.
“Indeed, indeed, who doesn’t remember? Died not long after, didn’t he?” Claude said solemnly, patting Uncle on the arm consolingly.
Marcus bit back a curse and uncurled his fist. “He was my father,” he said, his voice like steel. He felt Esca put a hand on his arm, restraining.
“A shame he died in such an undignified way,” Placyd said, oblivious to Marcus’ rising ire. “Did irreparable dishonour to the family name, didn’t he?”
“Galen, I hardly think-” Claude attempted to intervene, but Placyd stupidly continued anyway. “Just a junkie in the end-” he stopped suddenly, unable to speak further with Marcus’ fist in his mouth.
“Marcus!” shouted Esca, who leaped in front of him, both hands on his chest, putting steady pressure on him to hold him back. Marcus could have broken free, gone after Placyd again, God knows he wanted to, but Esca, so close, his face inches from Marcus’, was an effective distraction.
“Right then, time to be off,” Uncle said, stepping between Marcus and Placyd, who was holding his bleeding jaw in one perfectly manicured hand.
“Go on boys, I’ll meet you at the car,” Uncle said, waving them off. Marcus gave in to the pressure on his chest, his breathing slowing as Esca’s presence calmed him.
“Let’s go Marcus, he’s not worth it,” Esca said, meeting Marcus’ eyes, his face set, hard as stone.
“Fine,” Marcus said, shrugging off Esca’s hand and storming away from the restaurant, not stopping until he was a few blocks away, where he braced his hands on the brick of a nearby building.
“Marcus,” Esca said softly, leaning a shoulder against the wall beside him. “I’m sorry about your father.”
“It’s alright,” Marcus said, waving a hand. “He’s right, my father was a junkie in the end. He turned to alcohol and cocaine after my mom died, he just couldn’t handle it.” Marcus turned toward Esca, his eyes damp with tears of sorrow and frustration.
“He must have loved her very much,” Esca said, putting a hand on Marcus’ shoulder, squeezing gently.
Marcus nodded, overwhelmed with memories, the few that he had of the time when they had been a family, whole, together. His sudden grief fell on him, and he stumbled clinging to Esca in an attempt to stay upright. He breathed heavily, his nostrils flaring with the force of his despair, but Esca held him up, sure and strong, far stronger than he looked. He had a will of iron, and Marcus admired him greatly.
Finally he was able to pull back, brushing himself off and setting his jacket to rights while Esca did the same.
“That’s why,” he said suddenly, staring into the road but not really seeing anything. “That’s why I have to play in the NHL. Not just because I want it, but for him. To regain the honor of my name, his name. He was a great goalie, the best, there was none like him. I’ve seen the tapes, I’ve watched him play.” He took a few deep breaths, calming himself, steeling himself for the task ahead.
“I have to do it, don’t you see?” he continued. “If I go first in the draft, if I play better than anyone has before, I can restore that honor to my family’s name. I have to.”
“Marcus,” Esca said, but Marcus just shook his head, turning to look at Esca again.
“I can’t let anything distract me,” he said, his gaze burning into Esca’s. “No matter how I feel about-” he trailed off, took another breath and went on. “No matter what. I’ll do it, you’ll see. I’ll regain our honor.”
“I believe you,” Esca said softly, his eyes reflecting a deep understanding. He seemed to read between the lines, taking meaning from Marcus’ words, meaning that was not spoken aloud.
“I’ll do him proud,” Marcus said, holding himself even straighter, then, pushing past Esca, walked away.
Part 2
Part 1.1
After they were done with the hockey game, during which Esca asked dozens of questions, he pulled out a dvd from his satchel and put it in, giving Marcus a lesson in figure skating, from moves to judging to politics. Marcus' head was spinning by the time 6pm rolled around, and his stomach was growling. Learning was hungry work, it seemed.
They made their way down to the kitchen, joining Marcus' uncle at the table. Sassy gave Marcus a kiss on the forehead and patted Esca on the cheek again, before calling her good byes over her shoulder as she headed for the door.
“Right then, let's eat,” Marcus' uncle said, picking up a dish and leading the way to the table. The boys followed his lead to the dining room where the table was already set.
“So, did you boys have a good afternoon?” Uncle asked.
Marcus nodded his response, his mouth full of wild mushroom risotto, one of his favorites. Sassy was a genius in the kitchen.
“It was enlightening,” Esca said. “I never realized there was so much involved with slapping a puck around the ice.”
“And we didn't even get into the strategy much,” Marcus added with a grin.
“Indeed,” his uncle agreed, nodding sagely. “Hockey is more complex than it seems to the casual observer and it's taken very seriously around here, especially by this one.” He pointed his fork in Marcus' direction.
“This is wonderful,” Esca remarked, taking another bite of the risotto.
“Marcus’ favorite, Sassy spoils him too much, I think,” Uncle said, shaking his head. “She says it’s to make up for him not having a mother, but I think she just likes to spoil him.”
“What happened to your mother?” Esca asked Marcus solemnly. “If you don’t mind me asking.”
“No, I don’t mind,” Marcus said. “It was a long time ago, I don’t really remember her. She died in a car crash.”
“Drunk driver,” Uncle added, his face grim. “Marcus was not even three, and his father brought him here shortly after. He was on the road all the time, so he couldn’t take care of the boy on his own.”
“You didn’t mind, did you?” Marcus asked, wondering for not the first time if his uncle held any resentment at having had to raise his nephew alone.
“No, not at all,” Uncle said, giving Marcus a fond smile. “I’d often complained I didn’t get to see you enough, and I knew I wouldn’t have a family of my own, so it was ideal, really. I’ve valued having you here all these years, and I’m not looking forward to you leaving. It’ll be lonely here all over again.”
“Sorry, Uncle,” Marcus said, patting him on the arm. “That’s the way life goes, isn’t it?”
“It is indeed, mores the pity. If I had a choice I’d keep you a fourteen year old forever. Just old enough to pick up after yourself and not need a baby sitter, but young enough that I didn’t have to worry about you driving that truck around town at all hours.”
“When have I ever done that?” Marcus asked, indignant.
“You haven’t, I admit,” Uncle answered with a smirk. “But you could start anytime. I’m not sure my ancient heart could handle the worry.”
“You’re not that old,” Marcus said, laughing. “Besides, I go to bed earlier than you, most nights.”
“Yes, you are as regular as the sun,” Uncle agreed, turning to Esca before continuing. “He’s a very self motivated young man, this one, sets himself a schedule and keeps to it. Up at dawn doing laps in the pool, in bed when most kids his age are just getting up.”
“Hey!” Marcus objected. “I’m not that bad.”
“If you insist,” Uncle said, with a wink at Esca. “It’s an admirable trait, Marcus, truly. I wish I was half as fastidious as you.”
“Well, I must have learned it somewhere,” Marcus said.
“Your father was a lot like that too, before,” he was interrupted by a loud knock on the front door, then a voice calling, “hello?” from the doorway.
“We’re in the kitchen!” Uncle hollered, making Marcus and Esca wince. Soon another man entered, as silver as Uncle and with a smile as wide.
“Good evening boys,” he said, pulling out the only remaining chair, opposite Esca, and sitting.
“Let me get you a plate,” Marcus said, standing up and padding into the kitchen.
“Esca, this is Stephan, my business partner. He’s an excellent asset, there’s no better eye in the real estate business, but he’s irredeemably late. This is why I see the clients and he does the paperwork.”
“Only if I must,” Stephan said with a cheeky grin. “It’s good to meet you, Esca. Do you play hockey with our Marcus?”
“No,” Esca said as Marcus set a plate and cutlery in front of Stephan. “I’m a figure skater.”
“And a British one, at that. You remember our trip to Britain, Frankie? Good time that, we should do it again soon.”
“We should,” Uncle agreed. “Before we get too old.” They shared a laugh, but Marcus just rolled his eyes at Esca.
“Oh, come on Frankie, these young lads don’t want to hear us reminisce about our glory days. They’re living theirs, aren’t you boys?”
“I can only speak for myself, but I have far too much practicing to do,” Marcus said, provoking a loud guffaw from Stephan.
“Soon then,” he said. “After you’re drafted you should take some time off to have fun.”
“If I am drafted I’ll have to work even hard to prove myself,” Marcus said. “You’ll just have to have some fun for me.”
“If you insist,” Stephan said, giving Marcus a hearty slap on the shoulder. “It’s a dirty job, but someone has got to do it.”
“You really should make some time to enjoy yourself, Marcus,” Uncle insisted. “You and Esca should go for a swim after dinner.”
“I swim every day,” Marcus said, looking at his plate.
“Laps,” Uncle said, shaking his head. “You swim laps, Marcus.”
“I have to keep in shape,” Marcus said.
“You don’t have to work that hard to keep in shape,” Stephan commented. “I’ve never seen anyone as fit as you are, especially at your age.”
“Esca’s as fit as I am,” Marcus pointed out and all eyes turned to Esca.
“And do you ever indulge yourself with fun, Esca?” Uncle asked.
“Occasionally,” Esca replied cautiously. “But Marcus is right. If I want to reach my goals, I have to work harder than everyone else. It doesn’t leave a lot of time for fun.”
“They spent the afternoon going over Marcus’ stash of games,” Uncle told Stephan. “No time for play, even at leisure.”
“Oh, what a pair these two make!” Stephan said with a laugh. “Both trying to out serious each other.”
“No telling who the victor will be,” Uncle joined in enthusiastically, laughing.
“Alright, alright,” Marcus said, standing up, clearing his dinner dishes. “Are you done?” he asked Esca.
“Very much,” he replied, following Marcus’ lead and clearing his dishes.
“Behave you two,” Marcus called back, leading Esca into the kitchen where they cleaned up their dishes and grabbed some pop from the fridge.
“Do you want to go swimming?” Marcus asked, trying not to look too hard at his motivations for asking.
“Sure,” Esca said. “Why not? Although it will play into their little game, you realize?”
“We’ll try not to have too much fun,” Marcus said with a laugh.
“You’re on.”
**
“There’s towels out in the cabana,” Marcus said as he led Esca out the the pool area. “Sassy usually keeps some trunks out there for me...wait, you don’t have anything to wear. I’d lend you mine, but I doubt they would fit.” He stopped and turned, but Esca went right past him, carrying on toward the pool.
“No problem,” Esca said, shooting a cheeky grin at Marcus over his shoulder. “I’ve got my skivvies.”
Marcus stood frozen for several moments before forcing one foot in front of the other and following Esca to the cabana to change. When he arrived he found Esca shirtless and undoing his pants. Marcus watched, dumbfounded as he bent over to push them down, pulling his socks off as well.
Marcus was only able to tear his eyes away from Esca’s barely covered ass when tempted with the sight of his long, muscular legs.
“Are you getting changed?” Esca asked, straightening and folding his pants, laying them on the bench atop his shirt. Marcus pulled his gaze away and pulled his own shirt off, turning away as Esca faced him again.
“I’ll only be a minute,” he said, grabbing his trunks from a shelf.
“I’ll meet you out there,” Esca said, and Marcus breathed a sigh of relief as he was left alone in the cabana. He was regretting having ever opened his mouth. He took a few extra minutes getting changed, convincing himself that he could handle this, that he had to handle it. He’d have no career if his secret got out, and all his hard work would be for nothing.
When he thought himself calm enough, he left the cabana, only to lose his cool once more at the sight of Esca crouching over the pool, using the net to drag a few leaves out of the water. He then lifted the net up, swinging it in an arc over his body to dump the leaves over the fence onto the grass.
Marcus was transfixed once more as drops of water spattered across Esca’s chest and shoulders. He forced himself to look away, calling, “you all set?” when Esca put the net away.
“You have a diving board, I can’t wait to try it out!” Esca said enthusiastically. “I haven’t been on one for months.”
“Don’t tell me you’re a diver too,” Marcus said, pushing aside his preoccupation to focus on what Esca was saying, not on what he was wearing.
“Don’t be ridiculous, hockey boy,” Esca said with a laugh, climbing up the ladder and then walking out onto the diving board. He bounced a little, testing out the tension before jumping, once, twice and launching himself into the air, twisting his body lazily in two full rotations before gravity kicked in, pulling him down into the water with surprisingly little splash.
By the time he came back to the surface, Marcus had climbed out onto the diving board. “You’ve never taken diving lessons, have you?” he said, putting his hands on his hips and shaking his head at Esca, who was pulling himself out of the pool, no ladder needed. Marcus swallowed, focusing on his own dive, though it wasn’t near as showy as Esca’s.
When he resurfaced, Esca was sitting at the edge of the pool with his legs in, grinning at Marcus.
“I haven’t,” he said. “My old coach had me train on the diving board, to help me with jumps and spins. All the rotations, you know.”
“Ahh,” Marcus said, reaching the edge of the pool, crossing his arms on the deck and looking up at Esca, who was thankfully shielding him from the sun. “That makes sense, I guess.”
“It helped a lot, actually. It’s easier to train your body to do the revolutions when you give it a boost, and from there it was easier to get the jumps right. On the other hand, it didn’t help me learn how to stick the landings.” Esca was smiling down at him, his hair looking almost gold, silhouetted by the late evening sun. Marcus smiled back, his breathing growing heavier rather than lighter, the moment stretching impossibly.
Marcus had to do something to break the tension that was growing between them, so he reached up, letting his hand slide up Esca’s arm, his callused fingers catching slightly on Esca’s smooth skin. He shivered as goosebumps popped up under his fingers, but he kept going until he had a grasp of Esca’s elbow, then pulled with all his strength. It had the desired result, as Esca tumbled into the pool with a shout.
Marcus climbed out quickly, leaping onto the diving board and canon-balling into the water, splashing Esca just as he resurfaced.
“That does it!” Esca hollered once he’d pulled himself out of the pool again. He padded over to a bin on the poolside and pulled out a ball. “This is war, Aquila!” he said, tossing the ball at Marcus, who had just pulled himself up out of the pool. The ball hit him in the stomach and he fell back into the water with a laugh.
**
Once they’d exhausted themselves, they lay side by side on the deck chairs, soaking up the last of the day’s sunlight. Twilight was falling, and Esca looked as amazing in its light as he did in any other. Marcus sighed, wishing not for the first time that his life were less complicated, although he’d never before wished so hard that he could let go and just be himself.
Although, even if he could, there was no guarantee that Esca would be agreeable, so perhaps things were better the way they were.
“What time is it, do you reckon?” Esca asked, scratching his flushed shoulders.
“Time to get inside, by the look of you. You’ll probably have a bit of a burn, you pasty thing,” Marcus teased.
“I’ve never tanned well,” Esca remarked. “It won’t be the last time I’ve burned.”
Marcus twisted around to look at the clock his uncle had installed on the side of the house several years ago, so Marcus wouldn’t spend all day in the pool. “It’s almost 8:30.”
“Ahh, I’d better get going, then,” Esca said, standing and stretching. Marcus looked away, getting up as well.
“Your grandma worry about you out so late?” Marcus said with a smirk, earning a flick from Esca’s towel. He’d managed to get Esca to tell him a few things, namely that he’d moved in with his grandmother on his father’s side, admitting that he was lucky to have someone living in a place where he had located a coach who could help him progress in his skating.
“Knowing my Nan, she’ll probably be out when I get back,” Esca said, padding alongside Marcus toward the cabana. “Always out with one friend or another. It’s sad when your grandmother has a more active social life than you, you know?”
“Well, you’ve just moved, so it’s understandable,” Marcus said, nudging Esca’s shoulder with his elbow.
“I try and remind myself of that every time she heads out for another night on the town.” They shared a laugh as they entered the cabana, each grabbing their clothes and retreating into the changing stalls.
When Marcus had finished changing he pulled back the curtain on his stall to see Esca squeezing the water out of his briefs. Suddenly it occurred to Marcus that Esca was holding his underwear and therefore could not be wearing it. His eyes dropped to the top of Esca’s pants where they hung low, his hipbones visible under the waistband. He was unable to stop himself from imagining if the skin under that one flimsy layer of fabric was as soft as the skin on Esca’s arm had been.
He shuddered again as he had when he’d felt that skin first-hand, turning away to drop his towel in the hamper, looking up again only to be smacked in the face with Esca’s towel. As he peeled it from his head, he decidedly was not thinking about what part of Esca’s body it had recently dried. Esca laughed at him as he pulled on his t-shirt, and Marcus couldn’t help but grin back.
His denial was hanging by a thread and had been since he’d met Esca.
**
The drive back to town was quiet, in a comfortable way, which was nice. When he dropped Esca off in front of his building he said, “see you tomorrow.”
“You will,” Esca told him with a smile that Marcus returned, their gazes holding again as it had in the pool. 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. He really needed to get a handle on this thing, before it spiralled out of control. He knew that distancing himself from Esca would help, but he really doubted he could do that and more importantly, he didn’t want to.
**
It was full dark by the time Marcus made it home, but he’d taken a few detours to try and clear his head. He hadn’t had much success, but he’d needed to try.
When he got inside, Marcus could hear muffled sounds from the tv room, so he padded down the hall and went in, slumping down on the couch beside his uncle. They sat in silence for a long while, watching the program Uncle had on. It was something about Ancient Rome and how they conquered Britain, historical clap trap that Marcus was usually more interested in.
Finally Uncle spoke up. “Took Esca home, did you?” he said, not looking away from the tv.
“Mmhmm,” Marcus hummed.
“He’s an awfully nice boy, Marcus,” Uncle commented.
“I know,” Marcus said, trying hard not to think about how nice he was. How nice he looked. How nice his skin had felt under Marcus’ hand. He shifted on the couch, suddenly restless, uncomfortable.
“I’d like to see him around more,” Uncle said, glancing over at Marcus, no doubt because of all the fidgeting.
“I hope you will,” Marcus answered simply. Uncle sighed and changed the subject.
“So your birthday is coming up pretty fast,” he said, and Marcus hummed his agreement. Uncle continued, “I was wondering what you wanted to do this year. I wasn’t sure you’d want to have a party after what happened last year.”
“No thanks,” Marcus said vehemently. Last year he’d invited all his friends over for a pool party, he’d thought it a good idea at the time, but some of his friends had invited their friends and before long it had degenerated into a free for all. Some of the uninvited guests had brought various kinds of alcohol and began distributing it from the cabana, hidden from the ever more watchful eye of Marcus’ uncle. Many dishes and a deck chair had been destroyed, the pool needed to be emptied and refilled on account of several people using it as a vomit receptacle, and the cabana had smelled like alcohol for several days, even after a thorough cleaning by the less than pleased Sassy.
Marcus shuddered at the thought of a repeat. “I was thinking more along the lines of dinner in town. We can go early and hit a few of the sporting goods stores so I can get some new equipment for the season,” Marcus suggested.
“Do you need new equipment?” Uncle asked, and Marcus shrugged.
“It can’t hurt,” he said. Uncle snorted, amused.
“Nothing I buy you will equal last year’s gift, I’m warning you now,” he said, giving Marcus a smirk.
“Nothing could top it,” Marcus said. “I love that truck.”
“I know you do. And unlike many of your ruffians, I know you’ll care for it, even if you didn’t have to work for it,” Uncle said. “You work hard enough for everything else.”
“Thanks, Uncle,” Marcus said, smiling at him.
“Dinner in town then. We can pick some ridiculously expensive restaurant and make fools of ourselves in front of all the pretentious snobs and the people they’re trying to impress,” Uncle said, his smirk widening.
“Sounds great,” Marcus agreed. “I’d like to invite Sassy and Stephan, if that’s okay. We don’t have to bring any of the ruffians if you don’t want.” Marcus knew his uncle would agree, which was fine with him because he didn’t particularly want any of his friends to come anyway. He was feeling increasingly distant from them, anyway.
“We could bring Esca, if you like,” Uncle suggested, watching Marcus out of the corner of his eye.
“Yeah,” Marcus said, his cheeks flushing slightly at the thought of Esca dressed up for dinner. “Yeah, sounds good.”
“It’s settled then. Your birthday is a Thursday, but it would work best for Stephan and I to go on the Saturday. Alright?” Marcus nodded.
“We’ll make a day of it, then,” Uncle said. “I’ll let Stephan and Sassy know, you invite Esca. You’ll be seeing him tomorrow, I assume?”
“Yeah,” Marcus confirmed. “I’ll see if he’s free.”
“Good, good,” Uncle said, turning his attention back to the tv.
“It’s getting late, I’m off to bed, then,” Marcus said, standing. “Goodnight, Uncle.”
“Goodnight, Marcus.”
Marcus went upstairs, but he didn’t go to bed just yet, dropping onto the couch instead. His body was tired, it had been a late night and a busy day, but his mind was whirring with all that had happened. With Esca. He groaned, lying back and stretching out his legs, head resting on the armrest that Esca had propped himself on for most of the afternoon, arguing with Marcus about the little rules of hockey and how figure skating was so much more elegant and much more interesting than watching large men with no front teeth slap a piece of rubber around the ice.
Marcus smiled at the memory, he’d argued right back, insisting that it took skill, strength and plenty of quick thinking, awareness of one’s team and the opposing players, unlike sliding around the ice on one foot looking like some kind of malformed bird. They had both ended up in heaps of laughter, nudging each other in mock annoyance.
Suddenly a different picture of Esca flashed through his mind, from later in the evening. Esca on the edge of the pool, smiling down at him, all glowing hair and soft, smooth skin and white, straight teeth. Esca in the cabana after, wringing out his drenched briefs, all sharp hipbones and effortless grace. Esca, standing with one hand on the door of Marcus’ truck, staring at him with intense, unfathomable eyes, wishing him a good night in that low, intimate voice.
Marcus realized that he’d been stroking himself while the memories flashed through his mind, rubbing his now hard cock while visions of Esca danced in his head. He stopped, putting his hands behind his head and tried to will down his arousal, but it wasn’t working. He gave in with a groan, unfastening his jeans and pushing his underwear down enough to free his aching cock.
He wasn’t one for jacking off, generally, but then he’d been suppressing his sexual urges for so long that not doing it had become part of his routine. He only succumbed when his body insisted, but he kept it short and sweet, and tried not to think of anything but the touch of his hand around his swollen flesh.
This time, that was out the window. His mind was crowded with memories of Esca, in the pool, the cabana, the truck. In the rink, even at the dinner table, laughing with his uncle. Esca in his room, sitting in the very spot where Marcus lay working himself with fervour, faster and faster until he came with a shout, his whole body reverberating with the shock of the hardest, longest orgasm he’d ever had in his life.
He lay panting in the aftermath, his t-shirt and belly, not to mention his hand, covered in spunk. It was uncomfortable as it cooled, but Marcus couldn’t bring himself to care just yet, too overwhelmed with what he had just done to move, his body boneless from the release. He closed his eyes, thumping his head on the arm rest a few times in frustration.
He was royally screwed.
**
Esca had smiled widely when Marcus had invited him to go to the city with them, and accepted immediately. Marcus felt his stomach flip at Esca’s delight, and he found himself grinning like a loon for the rest of the day.
Until he’d got a phone call from Luke.
“Hiya, Luke,” he answered, still not down from his mood.
“Marcus, what’s up? You still skating circles around that rink, or what?” Luke teased.
“With my phone? Nah, all the calls would ruin my concentration, not that you’d know what that’s about,” Marcus teased back.
“Right, right, you’re ever so much more focused, I get it,” Luke said and Marcus could almost see the eye roll.
“Anyway, the lads and I were wondering what the plan is for your birthday this week. Gonna bust some more heads like last year, then?” he asked.
“Hell no,” Marcus said, repeating what he’d told his uncle. “No way am I doing that again, you can forget it.”
“Ahh man, that’s no good. What fun’s a birthday if you can’t party?” Luke said.
“That party was a disaster and you know it, Luke,” Marcus insisted. “Besides, I’ve got plan to go to Van with my Uncle on Saturday, he’s gonna drop a mint on a new kit.”
“You must be jizzing just thinking about it,” Luke said with a laugh.
“You are one disgusting bastard, Torus,” Marcus said, grimacing. He pointedly did not think about what he was had recently jacked off over.
“You love it, Aquila,” Luke said. “Fine, fine, no party this year. I guess we won’t see you until school then, eh?”
“Nah, although I guess I should pick up supplies while we’re in town,” Marcus said, not looking forward to shopping for school. He wanted the year to be over already, studying would only distract him from his practicing. He kept up straight A’s, mostly because memorization and regurgitation came easy to him, but he didn’t enjoy it.
“You should, that’ll be fun, eh? Shopping with Unc, just like when you were a babe,” Luke laughed.
“Ahh, fuck off, mate,” Marcus swore. “I’ll see you Tuesday.”
“Yeah, alright. Have a good week,” Luke said before hanging up.
Marcus sighed, thinking about school, and it occurred to him that Esca would be going too. His stomach clenched at the idea of sharing Esca with anyone else, with his team mates. They wouldn’t see Esca for what he was, they would only see the skates.
This year might be the best of his life, but it could just as easily be the worst.
**
Saturday came quickly and before Marcus knew it, he was in the back of his Uncle’s suv, pressed between the door and Esca. He hadn’t thought this part through properly. Esca was warm and firm against him, thigh to thigh and shoulder to shoulder. Marcus had to concentrate hard in order to focus on something, anything else, especially when Esca leaned closer and breathed onto his neck.
“Are they always like this?” he asked, in reference to the banter being tossed around between Sassy and Stephan.
“Pretty much,” Marcus said, trying to shift away slightly without looking like he was. “Sometimes Uncle breaks them up and sometimes he joins in. Today it seems he’s just going to let them go at it.”
“Well, at least it’s entertaining,” Esca said, smiling widely. Marcus couldn’t restrain his smile, so he nudged Esca with his elbow.
“Ahh, enough of this shitty music,” he said, digging out his iPod and giving Esca a headphone. “I’ll teach you all about The Hip.”
**
The day went surprisingly fast and, for once, Marcus didn’t hate it quite as much as he usually did. He was sure it was Esca’s presence that did it, made everything better. By the time they made it to dinner, choosing a more relaxed atmosphere after all, Marcus was as happy as he’d ever been.
Until, just outside the restaurant, waiting for Sassy and Stephan to bring the car back, seeing as Uncle had enjoyed the wine a bit too much, they ran into an old friend of his uncle’s, Claude Marcel.
“Claude, my old friend!” Uncle said, reaching forward to clasp hands with a man Marcus recalled only vaguely.
“Ahh, Frankie Aquila, it’s been far too long, far too long,” Claude said, shaking Uncle’s hand excitedly.
“It has,” Uncle agreed. “You remember my nephew, Marcus?” Marcus stepped forward and grasped the man’s hand, shaking firmly.
“I do, I do,” Claude said. “He was just a wee little thing, last I saw him. You’ve grown up well Marcus, very well indeed.” Claude reached up and patted Marcus’ cheek, running his hand along his arm on the way down. Marcus heard snort from Esca’s direction, that turned immediately into a cough.
“My friend, Esca MacCunoval,” Marcus said, gesturing at Esca, who took Claude’s hand briefly, shooting a highly amused look at Marcus.
“Lovely to meet you, and how wonderful to see you again Frankie, it’s been far too long,” Claude repeated, getting another snort-cough from Esca and making Marcus hold his hand up to his mouth, faking a cough as well. Clearly Claude had been as fond of the wine as Uncle.
A throat cleared from beside Claude, and he turned around, remembering his companion, a tall, still-faced man, dressed in a pretentious suit. Marcus thought briefly of his uncle’s words about people wanting to impress the rich snobs and had to suppress another laugh.
“Ahh, my assistant, Galen Placyd, a fine lad by all accounts, isn’t he now?” Claude said, as Placyd shook their hands in turn. Marcus pulled his away quickly, Placyd had a handshake like a dead fish, heavy and limp.
“A pleasure to meet you all, I’m sure,” he said, smiling smugly at them as if it wasn’t a pleasure at all, looking down his nose at Esca’s battered leather jacket. Marcus’ jaw tightened, and he clenched his fists. He thought Esca looked amazing in that jacket, it was worn and soft and made him look a bit like James Dean, though Marcus would deny it if pressed. And here was Placyd, looking down on him, as if his prissy suit was so much better.
“Aquila? I recall that name,” Placyd was saying, his voice full of smarm. “Have we ever met?” he asked Marcus, looking at him as if they shared some great secret. “I’m sure I’ve seen you before. Perhaps at Club Tribune? I play a wicked round of golf, if I say so myself.”
“He does, best putter on the green,” Claude was saying to Uncle.
“No, I don’t think so,” Marcus said, shaking his head. “I don’t play golf, I prefer hockey.”
“I thought all hockey players played golf,” Claude remarked. “Gives them something to swing at during the off season, eh?” He and Uncle shared a laugh, but Marcus was not particularly amused.
“Hockey, that’s where I’ve heard it,” Placyd broke in, a triumphant smirk on his face. “Are you any relation to Flavian Aquila, who played in the NHL? Wonderful goalie he was, so I’ve heard, until he let in the goal that lost the Canucks the Cup back in ‘94. Do you remember that, Claude?” Placyd looked imploringly at Claude who nodded along.
“Indeed, indeed, who doesn’t remember? Died not long after, didn’t he?” Claude said solemnly, patting Uncle on the arm consolingly.
Marcus bit back a curse and uncurled his fist. “He was my father,” he said, his voice like steel. He felt Esca put a hand on his arm, restraining.
“A shame he died in such an undignified way,” Placyd said, oblivious to Marcus’ rising ire. “Did irreparable dishonour to the family name, didn’t he?”
“Galen, I hardly think-” Claude attempted to intervene, but Placyd stupidly continued anyway. “Just a junkie in the end-” he stopped suddenly, unable to speak further with Marcus’ fist in his mouth.
“Marcus!” shouted Esca, who leaped in front of him, both hands on his chest, putting steady pressure on him to hold him back. Marcus could have broken free, gone after Placyd again, God knows he wanted to, but Esca, so close, his face inches from Marcus’, was an effective distraction.
“Right then, time to be off,” Uncle said, stepping between Marcus and Placyd, who was holding his bleeding jaw in one perfectly manicured hand.
“Go on boys, I’ll meet you at the car,” Uncle said, waving them off. Marcus gave in to the pressure on his chest, his breathing slowing as Esca’s presence calmed him.
“Let’s go Marcus, he’s not worth it,” Esca said, meeting Marcus’ eyes, his face set, hard as stone.
“Fine,” Marcus said, shrugging off Esca’s hand and storming away from the restaurant, not stopping until he was a few blocks away, where he braced his hands on the brick of a nearby building.
“Marcus,” Esca said softly, leaning a shoulder against the wall beside him. “I’m sorry about your father.”
“It’s alright,” Marcus said, waving a hand. “He’s right, my father was a junkie in the end. He turned to alcohol and cocaine after my mom died, he just couldn’t handle it.” Marcus turned toward Esca, his eyes damp with tears of sorrow and frustration.
“He must have loved her very much,” Esca said, putting a hand on Marcus’ shoulder, squeezing gently.
Marcus nodded, overwhelmed with memories, the few that he had of the time when they had been a family, whole, together. His sudden grief fell on him, and he stumbled clinging to Esca in an attempt to stay upright. He breathed heavily, his nostrils flaring with the force of his despair, but Esca held him up, sure and strong, far stronger than he looked. He had a will of iron, and Marcus admired him greatly.
Finally he was able to pull back, brushing himself off and setting his jacket to rights while Esca did the same.
“That’s why,” he said suddenly, staring into the road but not really seeing anything. “That’s why I have to play in the NHL. Not just because I want it, but for him. To regain the honor of my name, his name. He was a great goalie, the best, there was none like him. I’ve seen the tapes, I’ve watched him play.” He took a few deep breaths, calming himself, steeling himself for the task ahead.
“I have to do it, don’t you see?” he continued. “If I go first in the draft, if I play better than anyone has before, I can restore that honor to my family’s name. I have to.”
“Marcus,” Esca said, but Marcus just shook his head, turning to look at Esca again.
“I can’t let anything distract me,” he said, his gaze burning into Esca’s. “No matter how I feel about-” he trailed off, took another breath and went on. “No matter what. I’ll do it, you’ll see. I’ll regain our honor.”
“I believe you,” Esca said softly, his eyes reflecting a deep understanding. He seemed to read between the lines, taking meaning from Marcus’ words, meaning that was not spoken aloud.
“I’ll do him proud,” Marcus said, holding himself even straighter, then, pushing past Esca, walked away.
Part 2