Fic: The Lonely End of the Rink, Part 5.2
Part 5.1
Taking him home, on the other hand, was hard. Esca would be gone for almost a week, and it felt like Marcus had just got back from his trip. Truthfully, that day was the only time they’d had together, and being separated again was not a prospect Marcus was looking forward to. On the other hand, this was the last time Esca had to go away that season, so they’d be able to spend much more time together. The thought of that lifted Marcus’ spirits. A little.
When he’d parked the car in front of Esca’s building, they just sat in the silence, neither moving, until at last Esca undid his seatbelt.
“Put your seat back,” he said, looking out the windshield. Marcus looked at him, brow wrinkled, wondering what he was up to. But then Esca looked at him and Marcus obeyed, bending over to slide the seat back as far as it would go. Before it had slid all the way, Esca was crawling over the console and planting himself on Marcus’ lap. It was awkward and not very smooth, his foot got stuck on the steering wheel and his head bumped the ceiling, but then he was there, straddled over Marcus’ lap, breath puffing gently over Marcus’ face.
“You are insane, you realize,” Marcus said, wrapping his arms around Esca and pulling him closer.
“I’ve always wanted to do that,” Esca said, shrugging. “I saw it in a movie once, apparently not as cool in real life.” Marcus had to agree. “But now that I’m here,” Esca said quietly, leaning down and kissing the breath right out of Marcus.
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. “And I won’t be able to tear my eyes away from the TV.”
“Keep your phone with you, yeah?” Esca said, his eyes gleaming in the dim light of the cab. “I’ll call when I can.”
“Okay,” Marcus said, leaning in for another kiss, now that it was time to let go. “Love you.”
“Love you back,” Esca said, reaching over the seat to grab his satchel and pulling open Marcus’ door. “Bye,” he said, kissing Marcus one last time.
“Break a leg,” Marcus said, wondering if it was the right thing to say, but Esca just laughed and said, “you bet,” closing the door behind him and jogging toward the front door, not looking back. Marcus watched him in the rear-view mirror until he went inside, then started the truck with a sigh.
**
Esca was scheduled to skate on Wednesday and Friday, and was coming home Sunday. In a stroke of luck, Marcus had games on Thursday and Saturday, which he was thrilled about. Being able to watch live was a real bonus. By the time Wednesday rolled around, Marcus was a basket case. He and Esca had spoken several times on the phone, but it just wasn’t enough. By the time he sat down with Uncle to watch, he was anxious and excited, wanting to see Esca, if only through a TV screen.
Waiting for Esca’s program was nerve wracking, and Esca was scheduled near the end of the night. Marcus watched with nervous anticipation while the scores got higher, as the skaters got better. He knew Esca would be right up there with the leaders, if not leading the pack, but it was still difficult for Marcus to watch the scores mounting and knowing there was nothing he could do about it.
When Esca came on at last, Marcus’ stomach leapt, like it had every other time he’d seen Esca like this. He looked cool and collected, completely professional, dressed in black pin stripe slacks and waistcoat, with a crisp white shirt underneath. He wore a black and grey striped tie, with a matching handkerchief, the over all effect was striking. Marcus took in a deep breath and let it out, shaky, wishing he could be there in person.
Esca’s program was packed with jumps and spins and exquisite footwork to a catchy jazz tune. Marcus cheered out loud when he landed a flawless quad toe, triple toe combo, and again when he spun out of his final spin into the end pose.
They waited impatiently for the score, then Marcus jumped up and cheered again when Esca received the highest score yet, not only for the competition, not only for himself, but a world record score.
“God, he’s amazing,” Marcus gushed, slumping back beside Uncle on the couch. “Did you see that last spin? I swear he was going faster than I’ve ever seen, and his skate didn’t even move, you’d think he was on a dime or something.”
“It was certainly spectacular,” Uncle said, grinning nearly as wide as Marcus. “But we knew all along he is that good, what amazes me is your enthusiasm. I never thought I’d see the day when I’d see you that passionate about something other than hockey.”
“I’d give hockey up in a second if the choice was between it and him,” Marcus said, still watching the screen, where the next skater was finishing up his short program.
“I know you would, my boy,” Uncle said, patting Marcus’ arm. “It makes me very happy to see you so happy.”
“Thanks,” Marcus said, smiling at him and then turning his attention back to the TV, his uncle chuckling beside him. The final skater was just finishing up and, like the ones before him, could not match Esca’s score, in fact, he hadn’t even come close. So Esca was the leader after one skate, by a wide margin.
Once the skating was done, the interviews started, something Marcus hadn’t realized he’d been waiting for until Esca’s flushed, smiling face was on the screen in front of him. He barely listened to the words being exchanged, focused instead on memorizing Esca’s face all over again.
It was over far too soon, and they went on to interviewing the other skaters, which Marcus watched only half-heartedly. He knew he should go to bed, he had a game the following evening, in addition to school, but he hoped that he could stretch it out, hoping that Esca would call him. And, just when Marcus’ had given up hope of that happening, his phone rang, the familiar sound byte indicating that it was Esca.
He tugged it out of his pocket quickly and answered, “Esca? Yeah, we saw. No, hang on a sec,” he said, standing and pulling the phone away from his ear. “I’m heading up to bed, Uncle,” he said, trying to ignore his uncle’s smirk.
“Good night, Marcus,” Uncle said. “Give Esca my congratulations.”
“I will,” Marcus said, heading out of the room and upstairs.
“Tell your Uncle I said thank you,” Esca said when Marcus told him he was back.
“I will,” Marcus said, slightly breathless from taking the stairs two at a time. “Seriously though, you were amazing. Flawless.”
“You would think so,” Esca replied, his voice light with amusement. “You’re biased.”
“The judges thought so too, and they’re not in love with you,” Marcus pointed out, and Esca had to agree.
“A world record? They don’t just hand scores like that out to anyone,” Marcus said, closing his bedroom door and throwing himself backwards onto his bed. His cock had been half hard since watching Esca skate and now that he was alone in the dim light of his room, with Esca’s smooth, husky voice in his ear, it had hardened completely.
“I suppose you’re right,” Esca said, his voice lowering a bit. “Honestly, it was inspiring to know that you’d be watching.”
“Yeah?” Marcus asked, still feeling breathless, but for a completely different reason.
“Yeah. I wanted to call you before, but Andrew said it would be too distracting,” Esca laughed quietly. “He’s probably right, if I’d talked to you before I’d probably be half hard going out onto the ice.”
Marcus’ cock twitched at that, and he could no longer risk rubbing it, stroking slowly over his pyjama pants. “Next time you should, it’s only fair,” Marcus said, closing his eyes and letting his other senses take over.
“Oh yeah?” Esca asked. “Why’s that?”
“Because watching you skate makes me hard,” Marcus said plainly. “Which is a bit awkward while sitting with my uncle, let me tell you.”
“No more awkward than sporting a hard-on on the ice in front of an arena full of people, and a national TV audience,” Esca said. “My costumes aren’t exactly forgiving in that area.”
“I’ve noticed,” Marcus said, his voice getting raspy as he gave in to the inevitable and pulled his cock out, squeezing gently before letting it lay on his belly, tickling the underside with his fingertips, imagining they were Esca’s instead.
“Oh, I bet you have,” Esca replied. “Are you still hard, Marcus?” he asked, and Marcus shivered, loving the way Esca said his name in that tone, his accent sounding it out differently than how anyone else did.
“Yeah,” Marcus admitted, unable and unwilling to deny it, stroking himself slowly now.
“Are you wanking?” Esca asked pointedly. “‘Cause I totally am.”
“Nguh,” Marcus moaned, squeezing his cock, stroking quicker now. “Where are you?” he asked, suddenly remembering that Esca had just competed in a major competition and there were bound to be people everywhere.
“Changing room,” Esca said. “I’m not ashamed to say that I’m in the furthest toilet from the showers.”
Marcus gave a breathless laugh, oddly turned on by the thought that Esca had snuck away to find a place to call Marcus and have a wank.
“Do you miss me yet, Marcus?” Esca asked, a hitch in his voice. Marcus could imagine him, leaning against the wall of some random toilet stall, pants opened and pulled down to reveal his stiff cock, one hand holding the phone to his ear and the other stroking his cock roughly.
“Fuck, yes,” Marcus said, gasping for breath. “I want you back, preferably naked and in my bed.”
Esca groaned. “Only a few more days and I will be,” he said. “I can’t wait to strip you and suck your gorgeous cock until you come down my throat.” Marcus’ hand sped up, his mind conveniently providing him with accompanying images. He could feel the peak approaching, but Esca wasn’t done yet.
“Then I’ll fuck you until you’re hard again, and I won’t stop until you come all over yourself,” he continued, but Marcus had heard enough, his arousal had reached a fever pitch, and with a cry, he came, biting his lip to hold in any errant sounds. From the shaky breathing on the other end of the line, Esca had come as well, whether from his own words or from the muffled sound of Marcus’ orgasm, he wasn’t about to guess.
“That was,” he panted, and Esca finished the sentence for him.
“Fantastic,” he said, and Marcus could hear rattling noises and a bit of static, presumably as Esca wiped his hand off.
“Yeah,” he agreed, not bothering to wipe himself just yet. Luckily for him, he needn’t be seen in public anytime soon, unlike Esca. Marcus felt a pang of longing, wishing they could be together. ‘soon,’ he reminded himself.
“So, you’ll be watching on Friday, yeah?” Esca asked.
“Yeah,” Marcus replied, grinning with anticipation. Friday was only two days away and then Esca would be home on Sunday. Suddenly it didn’t look so far away. “Luke and Cottia are gonna come over and watch with me, and Uncle and Stephan, make it a proper party.”
“Shit,” Esca said, and Marcus could hear a voice calling, which he assumed was Andrew looking for Esca. “I’d better go, before Andrew does his nut.”
“If you must,” Marcus says, smiling. “Call me tomorrow, ‘kay?”
“You bet. Night, Marcus,” Esca said softly. Marcus swallowed a sigh and just said, “night,” waiting for Esca to hang up, which he promptly did. Marcus sighed out loud and ended the call, just laying on his bed and staring at the ceiling for a few minutes before he realized that his hand was sticky and his belly cold and uncomfortable. He tossed the phone aside and pulled off his soiled t-shirt, wiping off the obvious mess and tossing the shirt in the hamper before heading to the bathroom for a proper clean, Esca’s voice still in his ears.
**
The game the following night was one of Marcus’ best. He had always been a high energy player, but he was really on fire that night. Two goals and two assists, one of each a short handed goal; he was out skating, out checking and out hitting every other player, and managed to get only one penalty. All in all, an excellent game, and it left Marcus’ spirits high.
He fell into bed that night, exhausted, ready to get up tomorrow and suffer through the day until Esca’s skate. He thanked heaven that Esca was only in LA, so that there was no time difference.
By the time he’d made it home from school, he was a bit of a basket case. So much so that Uncle insisted he go take a run before dinner, to calm his nerves. Marcus didn’t think it would work, but he did it anyway, running hard and fast, the pounding of his feet on the pavement temporarily drowning out his thoughts.
After the run he needed a shower, relaxing his muscles even as he scrubbed himself clean. But there, his thoughts inevitably turned to Esca, to wondering what he was doing at that moment, if he was nervous, if he was excited, if he was thinking of Marcus or focusing on the skate ahead.
Thinking of Esca led to thoughts of the conversation they’d shared on Wednesday after the short program, and that led to Marcus’ hand dropping to his half hard cock, which led to stroking, which, well. It wasn’t long before Marcus was coming all over the tile, eyes clenched shut against the flow of water, knees shaky and muscles weak, from the run or the shower or the wank, Marcus wasn’t sure. It was probably all three, but he was still slow and methodical as he got out of the shower and dried off. He pulled on some clean clothes and headed downstairs, knowing that Luke and Cottia would arrive soon.
They had actually arrived while he was in the shower, and were engaged in an animated discussion about Canadian hockey vs European hockey, the debate sparked by Don Cherry’s acerbic remarks about Alexander Ovechkin and the ‘soccer style’ goal celebrations.
“...to admit he goes too far,” Cottia was saying and Uncle was nodding, although Luke seemed to disagree.
“He has a point though, Cottia, and he’s not afraid to speak up about it,” Luke interjected. “All these Europeans come over and in a lot of ways they’re more skilled than the average Canadian player, because on those football fields they call rinks, they can skate circles around all the other players-”
“If they have that skill, why shouldn’t they use it to their advantage?” Uncle interrupted, with Cottia nodding along.
“It’s not a matter of their skill with the puck, it’s their style of play, and the grand-standing that goes on after every goal,” Luke insisted. “As if every goal they score is an individual effort.”
“Well it is, isn’t it?” Cottia said, shaking her head.
“Not the way we play,” Marcus said, leaning on the counter and joining the discussion. “On a smaller ice surface you have to battle for the puck, there’s no room to skate around the ice making pretty goals for the cameras, we have to battle it out on the boards and get those rebound goals.”
“Well, what’s wrong with the pretty goals?” Uncle asked.
“Nothing in and of themselves, it’s the individual mindset that’s behind that style of play. Here we need every player involved, someone has to fight the puck off the boards, someone has to take the long shots, someone has to be in the slot fighting for the rebounds, and you have to pass the puck around, because there’s no room to skate with it. That’s why assists are as important as goals, perhaps more. If you aren’t looking out for your team mate and setting him up to score, he won’t.”
“Exactly,” Luke agreed. “The difference is that the Canadian-trained players are the fighters, and I don’t mean brawling, Cottia, and the Europeans aren’t. They’re used to a more open game where they can make all the moves they need, but they don’t pass as much and when they’re hit, they stay down as if it’s the end of the world. That style of play just doesn’t fly on our ice surface.”
“The smaller ice surface lends itself to a more aggressive style of play, and that’s what we call Canadian hockey. We don’t have room to glide around the ice like...” Marcus trailed off looking for a comparison, but Luke found one for him.
“Like a figure skater,” he said with a laugh, nudging Marcus in the ribs. Uncle and Cottia laughed, while Marcus blushed a bit, but he agreed with the sentiment.
“Exactly,” he agreed. “It’s a team game and every goal is a team effort. These guys who grandstand after every goal are showing a lack of respect for the gritty game we play over here, as if it’s all about them and not about the team. And that’s why they get hurt, because the other players don’t respect that.”
“Isn’t that the point of cracking down on the heavy hitters?” Cottia asked. “Dad says they’re only trying to clean up the game.”
“No, there’s more to it than that,” Luke insisted. “If you can’t check someone into the boards or stop them mid-ice from going after your guy with the puck, you might as well just hand it to them. It’s about beating the other guy to the puck, and it’s about protecting your team mate who has it.”
“It comes back to the team effort,” Marcus added. “Some of the European players don’t pass the puck, even when they have a clean opportunity, because they aren’t thinking about the best, surest way of getting the goal, they aren’t thinking about the team. They’re thinking about how they are going to get another goal for their tallies.”
“You see a lot of unassisted goals in that style of play, and it’s just at odds with everything we are taught here,” Luke said. “It’s about the team, not the individual.”
“I think we’re a little out numbered here, Cottia,” Uncle said, gesturing to the table and leading the way. They all sat down, but the conversation wasn’t done, not that Marcus minded. There’s nothing he’d rather talk about than hockey, with the exception of Esca.
“You have to admit that Cherry goes too far, though,” Cottia said, and Marcus could see her point.
“Oh, I’ll admit he’s a wee bit xenophobic, but he’s also been around a long time and he sees the game that’s been played in Canada for a hundred years being eroded by these individually minded players,” Marcus said. “No wonder it pisses him off, and you have to realize that he understands hockey in a way a lot of fans don’t, and he respects the game.”
“Besides, he’s got a point,” Luke said. “When you get those players acting like that, as if every goal is another stroke to their egos, it’s disrespectful to their team mates. The other players won’t stand up for them in the same way, and it just creates an us versus them mind set and it affects team unity on and off the ice.”
Marcus was nodding along as he ate.
“But all that checking leads to more penalties and fights,” Uncle pointed out.
“And injuries,” Cottia agreed, but Marcus and Luke just shared a look and an eye roll.
“Not if it’s done with respect to the other team, which doesn’t happen when the other player is a grand-stander. It’s like pissing on the tradition we were raised on.”
“Marcus, that’s a little crude, isn’t it?” Uncle scolded but Marcus stood his ground.
“Maybe the words are, but the sentiment is there,” he insisted. “If you’re trying to change the game, take out the checking, crack down on the fighting, it’s not only disrespectful to the Canadian style of play, it’s detrimental to the morale of the team.”
“What the average fan doesn’t realize is that most of the fighting that goes on isn’t so much a personal thing as a defense of a team mate, or retaliation for dirty play or taunting,” Luke said. “It’s not about the guy fighting, it’s about the team as a whole.”
“Exactly,” Marcus agreed, pointing his fork in Luke’s direction.
“Well, Cottia, I suppose we should give up while we’re ahead,” Uncle said with a sigh. “I guess we should defer to those in the trenches, as it were.”
“If we must,” Cottia agreed, sighing dramatically. “I’ll never understand hockey players.”
“And yet, you are surrounded by them,” Luke said, smiling fondly at her. Marcus noticed and so did Uncle, if his meaningful look was any indication. More telling was Cottia’s return smile.
“You’ll have to try and explain it to me,” Cottia said, and Luke flushed, just a little.
“Maybe I will,” he said, to Cottia’s delight.
“It will have to be another time, however,” Uncle said. “Coverage is about to start.”
“I thought Stephan was coming over,” Marcus said.
“Oh, he’s late as usual,” Uncle replied, shaking his head. “He’s probably arguing with his sister about their plans to buy some big property out in Alberta. Mark my words, he’ll be flying out by the end of April to save them from themselves.”
They shared a laugh, getting down the business of dinner, the mood lightened considerably.
**
Stephan arrived while they were cleaning up, grumbling about overpriced, flashy properties and bandwagon investors, but Uncle placated him before long and everyone crowded into the TV room to watch. Marcus took note of Cottia settling into the loveseat beside Luke, Marcus slumping into the adjacent chair while Uncle and Stephan took the couch.
“Oh, I wish Esca didn’t have to skate last,” Cottia said with a sigh.
“It’s a good thing though,” Uncle replied. “It means he’s in the lead.”
“And quite a lead at that,” Stephan commented.
“That’s because no one can match him,” Marcus said, his voice conveying his bias.
“Yes, we all know he’s the bestest boyfriend ever,” Luke said, teasing. “But we’re talking about figure skating.” Marcus threw a pillow at him.
“Since we have time to kill,” Cottia said. “Are you boys excited for the prom?”
“What’s that?” Marcus asked, ducking when Cottia took the pillow from Luke and threw it back at him, missing and hitting Stephan instead.
“Hey now, no beating up the old man,” Stephan said with a laugh the others shared.
“Your aim sucks,” Marcus said, and Cottia stuck her tongue out at him.
“Seriously, have you given it any thought at all?” Cottia, asked. “It’s just over a month away. And you,” she said turning toward Luke. “You had better pick your best suit, I don’t want to have the scruffiest date there.”
“I’m taking you to prom?” Luke asked, his eyes wide.
“Unless there’s someone else you’d rather go with?” Cottia asked, her tone making the answer clear.
“No, no,” Luke said quickly, his cheeks flushing again. “No, there’s no one else.”
“Good,” Cottia said, smiling brightly at him. “That’s settled.” She turned to Marcus, who tried to shrink down in his chair.
“Now, do you and Esca have plans for dinner? The four of us should go out together.”
“I was hoping we could just skip it, actually,” Marcus said, envisioning confrontations from people like Charlie, or glares and disdainful looks from those who agreed but were not so vocal about it.
“And miss your prom?” Cottia was scandalized by the very idea. “I’m sure Esca would disagree with you.”
“He’s not a girl, Cottia,” Marcus said. “He probably doesn’t care either.”
“Well, I’ll have to insist then. I’ll expect the both of you to join Luke and I for dinner,” she said, crossing her arms and turning to the TV, as if the discussion was over. Marcus shot a look at his uncle but he just shrugged.
“Don’t you want to go with Ang and her date?” Luke asked. Cottia scrunched up her nose.
“No, she’s going with Charlie,” she said, shaking her head sadly. “She’s decided she agrees with his opinions about Marcus and Esca, so naturally I had to stop hanging around with her.” Luke took her hand and gave it a squeeze.
“That’s too bad, Cottia,” Uncle said. “I hope she comes around.”
“Not while she’s dating my brother, she won’t,” Cottia said. “She’s had a crush on him for years.”
“I didn’t think you realized,” Marcus said.
“Of course I did,” Cottia replied. “How could I miss the way she mooned over him every time she came over?”
“Look,” Stephan interrupted, pointing at the screen where Esca’s group of skaters had just begun their warm ups.
“Finally,” Marcus said, sitting forward in his chair, his eyes tracking Esca form one camera angle to the next.
“Ooh, he looks good,” Cottia said, and Marcus couldn’t help but agree. He looked extra sharp in a pair of black slacks and a trim fitting suit jacket, a patterned vest underneath completing the ensemble.
“Has he worn that before, Marcus?” Uncle asked, and Marcus shook his head.
“No, he’s been working on a new routine,” he said. “The outfit goes with it, apparently.”
“Well it suits him,” Cottia said. “I can’t wait to see him skate.”
The other skaters took the ice one by one, ratcheting up the tension, setting Marcus on the edge of his seat, until finally, during the last commercial break before the top three, he got up and headed to the kitchen. He poured a glass of water in an attempt to distract himself, feeling a little more settled when he sat down again.
“Wow, Marcus, someone would think you were skating tonight,” Luke said with a wink.
“No, I’m never this nervous before a game,” Marcus said, but further conversation was stopped when the commercial ended and there was Esca, gliding across the ice with ease, preparing himself for the start of his program. The announcers were discussing his performances in previous competitions, commenting on how astounding his successes were in light of his almost quitting the sport the previous year, after tragically losing his family.
Luke and Cottia turned to stare at Marcus, jaws dropped in shock, neither of them having had any idea about Esca’s past, but then, Marcus knew that he wanted it that way.
“Later,” he replied to their stares, gesturing to the screen where the first notes were playing and Esca began to move, his motions fluid, as if he was poured out over the ice instead of skating on it. He wound around the ice once before throwing himself into a jump, spinning out of it into more footwork, then building up for another series of jumps, all landed precisely, effortlessly.
The music built, tinkling over a series of notes as intricate as the footwork that matched them. Esca’s face was as expressive as ever, his whole body thrown into the role, the dance. He spun out of the footwork and into a spin, his hands starting low and moving up as his rotations increased, spinning so fast that his face was obscured.
“He seems to have an intensity here that goes beyond what he’s shown us in past competitions, and that’s saying something,” the announcer was commenting as Esca continued to flow over the ice.
“Indeed,” the other added. “And after so much turmoil in his personal life, for a while after the tragic death of his family, it was uncertain if he’d ever skate again competitively.”
“I’m sure I am not the only one who is thrilled that he decided to continue, a talent of his stature should not go unused,” the first said. “In an interview before the long program, Esca described his move to Canada and the decision to stay there permanently as a new starting point in his life.”
“New country, new coach, new outlook,” the second said.
“New boyfriend as well, from what I hear,” the first interjected, and they shared a laugh, as did those gathered to watch, which elicited a blush from Marcus, though he didn’t acknowledge them otherwise.
“Yes, that would help too,” the second said. “He certainly seems inspired. Just look at that spin,” he continued, as Esca performed another spin, a sit spin this time, his skate moving as if it was welded to the ice, allowing it to turn and still remain in the same place.
“He will certainly gain points for the lack of movement in the spin,” the first said. “And for the difficulty of the jumps, two quads in the first minute of the program, that has to increase his score as well.”
“And it did, if last night’s record breaking score was any indication,” they continued the discussion while Esca continued his program, leaping into the air with yet another quad, this one being lauded as a phenomenal show of athleticism, so close to the end of the program. When Esca had finished and the music had faded away, the crowd roared, a sound that Marcus was becoming accustomed to.
“He has to win,” Cottia exclaimed, bouncing on her seat.
“If he doesn’t it’ll be a scandal,” Uncle said. “Just listen to the crowd.”
“We’ll find out soon enough,” Stephan added.
“Wow, I knew he was good, but I had no idea how good,” Luke said, looking at Marcus in surprise.
“I know,” Marcus said. “You can’t tear your eyes away, can you?”
They all waited nervously, conversing quietly though Marcus couldn’t focus on the conversation when the camera was in close on Esca, discussing the performance with Andrew and waiting impatiently for his scores.
Finally the scores were up and there was Esca’s total, for the long program and for the overall.
“He did it!” Cottia cried, jumping up and down. The rest laughed, and Marcus just breathed a huge sigh of relief, pride and love filling him up as he watched Esca celebrate, wishing he could be there with them.
“Look,” he said, getting every one’s attention. “He didn’t just win, it’s a high score.”
“World record!” Uncle exclaimed, shaking his head in wonder. “Fabulous.”
“Marcus, aren’t you excited?” Cottia asked, having pulled Luke off the loveseat for a hug.
“I am, I just..can’t believe it,” he said, his body still, but his mind abuzz. He smiled up at her, and she must have seen something there that he wasn’t even aware of, because she just leaned down and kissed his forehead before flopping back on the love seat, chattering to Luke about how exciting it was and how Esca was their very own celebrity, until Marcus saw the picture switch from highlights of the skate back to Esca, who was standing beside one of the announcers, beaming.
“So Esca, this is a historic event, I can’t imagine what you’re feeling right now,” she said, tilting the microphone toward him.
“I can’t even tell you,” he replied, eyes wide. “I don’t even know, really.”
“I can imagine,” she laughed. “But here you are, eighteen years old, and it’s your first Worlds, and such a comeback after everything you’ve been through in the past year.”
“Yeah, it’s been rough, I was competing in the junior championships and hoping to be at Worlds last year, but I just...well, sometimes your life takes a turn that no one can predict,” he said, his tone taking a more somber pitch, though his face still showed his excitement. “It was along road back to where I’ve wanted to be, mentally mostly, but I feel like I’m finally in a place where I can accept it and move on, and not let it hold me back.”
“Well it certainly didn’t tonight,” the announcer said. “Not only did you take the Championship, but you’ve set three new world record scores, that has to be an amazing feeling.”
“Honestly, I can’t even believe it, I wanted the win and I skated after it, but the records,” he paused, shaking his head in disbelief. “I’ll have to get back to you on that one.”
“I was planning to ask you how you’re settling into Canada, what it’s like for you to live so far from where you grew up, but it seems that your performance has answered that question for me.”
“Oh, yeah, it was difficult at first, my family was still so fresh in my mind, but I’ve met some wonderful people, Andrew has been phenomenal, he’s really made me reach in many ways, with my artistry, with my technical routine. He’s really brought my weaknesses to the forefront and we’ve come a long way there.”
She nodded, grinning when Andrew’s hand came into view, giving Esca’s shoulder a shove, making him laugh. “Well, it’s certainly worked,” she said. “There wasn’t much in the way of weaknesses in your performances these past few nights. There has been talk that you’ve found someone special who has made a real change in your life, can you tell me about that?”
Cottia squealed like a schoolgirl, making Luke wince, but she didn’t notice, bouncing excitedly as Marcus stared at the screen, overwhelmed as Esca’s smile widened impossibly and he gave a little laugh.
“Yes, there has,” Esca replied, his face taking on a smitten kind of look, making Uncle give Marcus a little shove with his foot. “My boyfriend, he’s...he’s really made me feel like I’m at home again, you know? Like I can be safe and happy and I don’t have to spend my life living in the past, trying to live with the ghosts of my family, it’s been, illuminating, meeting him and getting to know him, quite an experience.”
“It shows in your skating, you had a presence about you tonight that, despite many wins this season, we haven't seen,” she commented, and Esca nodded along.
“It kind of all came together for me this weekend, like the merging of my past and future, and it really set me at ease, where I could just go out onto the ice and skate, it felt free again, like it was just me and the ice, and we were in it together, and he really helped me regain that, so it’s...yeah, it’s been great.”
“Well, I’ll let you get back to Andrew, he’s looking a bit antsy, and they’re going to award the medals soon, as well,” she said, and Esca nodded, a smile plastered on his face again. “Congratulations, and we’ll see you again next season, hopefully during the Olympic Games.”
“I look forward to it,” Esca said, giving the camera a wave and then turning away, all of it leaving Marcus speechless and elated in a way he’d never felt, even after his best game.
Two days, he reminded himself. Two days and Esca would be home.
**
Esca didn’t call Marcus until two hours later, when Marcus was lying in bed, wondering if he was going to get any sleep at all. When his phone rang, he snatched it up from his bedside table as if it was on fire.
“Esca,” he breathed, a smile splitting his face, somewhat sleepily.
“Marcus,” Esca replied. “I hope I didn’t wake you.”
“Nah, I’ve been lying awake thinking about you,” Marcus said. “I’m glad you called. Where are you?”
“Just got back to the hotel,” Esca said.
“What, just now?”
“Yeah,” Esca confirmed. “Lots of interviews, and a shiny gold medal for my Nan to hang in her shrine.”
Marcus laughed at the sardonic tone of Esca’s voice, just happy to hear it.
“I’m so thrilled for you,” Marcus said. “You were absolutely amazing tonight.”
“Thanks, I...well, your gift really meant a lot to me,” Esca said, and Marcus swallowed, remembering Esca’s comments from before.
“Did you mean it, what you said?” he asked, before his brain caught up with his mouth.
“Of course I did,” Esca said, a faint whump making Marcus think that he’d fallen backwards onto the bed. “You’ve changed everything, Marcus.”
Marcus’ throat felt thick suddenly, he tried to swallow it down, with little success. “When are you coming home?” he asked suddenly, his mouth still speaking before he’d thought about what he was going to say.
“Sunday morning,” Esca replied. “We have an eight am flight, so we’ll be in at about eleven.”
“I’ll pick you up, or I can meet you somewhere in town, if that works better,” Marcus said, a plan forming in his mind.
“I...sure,” Esca said. “I’d love that.”
“Great. And, if you’re interested, there’s a Canucks game Sunday night, and we wanted to see one, so...” Marcus said.
“That’d be great,” Esca said, and Marcus was pleased to hear excitement in his voice.
“We can come home late, if that’s okay.”
“Aren’t you going to be tired for practice?” Esca asked
“Yes, but it’ll be worth it,” Marcus replied. “I’ll just sleep through school instead,” he said and Esca laughed.
“Yeah, I’d love to,” Esca said. “I’ll call Nan in the morning and let her know I’ll be late.”
“Okay,” Marcus said, finally feeling like he could sleep.
“I’d better go, tomorrow will be busy with the press conference and things,” Esca said, sounding regretful. “I’ll call you tomorrow as well, yeah?”
“Okay,” Marcus repeated. “Love you.”
“You too,” Esca said. “Sleep.”
“‘Kay. Bye.”
“Good night, Marcus.”
**
At a few minutes to noon on the following Sunday, Marcus was pacing nervously outside the restaurant, where he’d told Esca he would be. He didn’t know why he was so nervous, but the anticipation was making him crazy. They would be there any minute, but still, he paced. Until a black sedan pulled into the parking lot, stopping in the parking spot next to Marcus’ truck.
“Hi!” Esca called as he practically leapt out of the vehicle, once it had stopped moving. He threw himself at Marcus when he was close enough, arms around Marcus’ neck. Marcus returned the embrace, burying his face into Esca’s neck and breathing him in, thrilled that he was finally home. The previous seven days had felt much longer than a week.
Finally they pulled back, Esca’s had cupping Marcus’ jaw as Marcus gripped him by the shoulders, just smiling at each other until Andrew interrupted them.
“Aren’t you two a pair of smitten fools,” he commented with a smirk and a quirked eyebrow.
Marcus laughed as Esca grumbled, “thanks Andrew.”
“I call ‘em like I see ‘em,” Andrew said, patting Esca on the shoulder. “Your suitcase is in the truck, I’ll drop the rest off with your Nan, alright.”
“That’s great Andrew, thanks a lot,” Esca said, shaking his hand.
“You bet,” Andrew replied. “Enjoy your week off, I’ll see you next Monday. Have fun, boys.”
“Bye,” Esca said, as Marcus called, “Thanks Andrew.”
A moment later they were alone, turning to each other again and sharing a long, deep kiss, expressing all their relief to be together again.
“Congratulations, Mr. World Figure Skating Champion,” Marcus said with a grin as he held Esca close.
“Thanks,” Esca said. “It was pretty amazing.”
“Right then, you hungry?”
“Definitely,” Esca said, pulling back. “I haven’t eaten since breakfast.”
“Great, lets get your bag in the truck, I don’t trust it in the open in the big city,” Marcus said, pulling Esca’s suitcase out and locking it in the cab.
“So, the Spaghetti Factory?” Esca asked, scrunching his nose. “Pasta, then?”
“They have plenty of other stuff,” Marcus said, taking his hand and walking toward the doors. “It’s one of Uncle’s favorites, and I thought we could walk around Gastown for a bit. The game doesn’t start until seven.”
“Sure, sounds great,” Esca agreed. Soon they were settled and browsing the menu, Esca having received a raised brow from Marcus for ordering a coke. Esca was generally strict about his diet, Marcus doubted he’d had a pop since the day he ran into Charlie in the cafeteria the first day of school.
But when the waitress took their orders and Esca ordered calamari to start and a bacon cheeseburger, Marcus couldn’t help but comment, though he waited until he had placed his own order for some pesto chicken linguine.
“A coke and now a cheeseburger? Who are you and what did you do to Esca?” Marcus said dramatically, and Esca laughed.
“Hey, I just won the world championships, and I’m done competing until the fall,” Esca said, taking a sip of his coke. “I can have a burger today, back to normal tomorrow.”
“If you say so,” Marcus said, reaching across the table and playing with his fingers, running the tips of his up and down then, drawing patterns on Esca’s palm, eliciting a very enticing shiver.
“So a week off, eh?” Marcus said. “You deserve it.”
“I thought so,” Esca said, grinning. “I’m going to skate Saturday, but Andrew will take the weekend off. He deserves it too.”
“He works as hard as you do,” Marcus commented.
“And I’m not the only person he coaches. But at least he’ll get to sleep in a bit,” Esca said.
“So will you,” Marcus pointed out.
“I will,” Esca said, his smile returning in force. “I like getting up early, but it is nice to sleep in and take things easy a bit now and then.”
“I know what you mean,” Marcus said. “Not too much though, or you’ll throw your routine off.”
Esca grinned as the calamari was placed in front of him, thanking the waitress. She had brought them two plates, so he handed one to Marcus, waving it in the air when Marcus seemed to be hesitating.
“Sure, why not,” Marcus said. “I love calamari.”
“Mmm, me too,” Esca said, squeezing lemon juice over the whole dish before picking up a piece and popping it in his mouth with relish. “I haven’t had it in a long time, since before I left England.”
“Do you ever regret it?” Marcus asked, dipping his piece in tzatziki before eating.
“Leaving England?” Esca asked, continuing when Marcus nodded. “No. I mean, I didn't exactly hate it there, it’s where I was born and raised, you know? But after...well, it was easier to relocate here.”
“Because your Nan was here?”
“Yes, that’s the main reason,” Esca confirmed. “Although I have a grandfather in England who everyone assumed I would go live with.”
“Why didn’t you?” Marcus asked. Esca hadn’t mentioned a grandfather, but then again, Esca didn’t seem to mention anything without a specific reason.
“Well, being there, it was too hard. Everything reminded me of them, even Grandad’s place. We’d spent summers there. He lived by the ocean. The picture you put on my display was taken there.”
“I can imagine that would be difficult,” Marcus said.
“It was but, that wasn’t it, really. I mean, people have to move on with their lives, right?” Esca ate another piece of calamari, his eyes staring out into the restaurant, likely not seeing anything at all.
“Then what?” Marcus asked. He didn’t want to push, but he did think that Esca was ready to talk about it.
Esca turned back with a sigh. “Well, Grandad is a bit set in his ways, you know how older people get?” Marcus nodded, so Esca continued. “Well, he’d always hated my skating, called me down on it a lot, you know, it’s a girl’s sport and if I was a real boy I’d want to play football or something. The usually taunts.”
Esca took a sip of his drink, swallowing slowly. “Anyway, you can imagine what he thought when he found out that I’m gay.”
Marcus’ eyes widened. He knew he was lucky to have Uncle, but he’d never really thought about having a family member who was so homophobic. Marcus could tell from his opinion of figure skating what his opinion about homosexuality would be.
“I can. Esca, that sucks,” he said apologetically.
“Yeah, he made life difficult. My mom would stand up for me, but mostly he just ignored me from then on,” Esca said with a sad look. “He’d never really liked me, and then I was insisting on skating and then I came out, and that was the end of it for him. I doubt he’d have let me live there, even if I’d wanted to.”
“I’m so happy your Nan isn’t like that,” Marcus said.
“Yeah, she’s always hated Grandad. She loved my mom, but commented occasionally about how surprising it is my mom was wonderful when raised by a man like that,” Esca said, with a small smirk. “I don’t think we were meant to hear that, but we were sneaky.”
Marcus laughed. “I bet you were.”
“So anyway, deciding to move here was the only real choice, not that I minded. I needed a change to shake me up.” Esca stopped when the waitress arrived with their meals, taking their used dishes.
Esca lifted his burger right away and took a huge bite, his eyes fluttering shut in bliss and a low moan coming from his throat. Marcus’ mouth dried up, hanging open as it was. A week was a long time for a teenager who has become used to sex to go without. And he wouldn’t have a chance until the next day, to his chagrin.
“Mmm, so good,” Esca said when he’d swallowed his bite and then took a sip of his pop.
“Yeah,” Marcus croaked, taking a sip of his own drink to moisten his throat. “It looks good,” he said, while his brain substituted ‘you’ for ‘it’.
“So, what did you get up to while I was away?” Esca asked between bites.
“Not much,” Marcus said. “Met a scout for the Flyers, but I really am hoping for the Canucks. I want to stay in Canada, but BC would be preferable.”
Esca nodded, still looking like he was making love to his cheeseburger. Marcus closed his eyes. “Oh, and apparently we’re going to the prom with Luke and Cottia,” Marcus added.
“What?” Esca’s attention was suddenly fixed on Marcus. “Since when?”
“Since Friday night. They came over to watch you kick ass and Cottia insisted that not only was Luke her date, but that the four of us were going to dinner before prom.”
“And you agreed?” Esca asked. “Do you really want to go to prom?”
“Not especially,” Marcus replied. “Although so many people think it’s one of those rights of passage things.”
“I can think of a few dozen things I’d rather be doing,” Esca said wryly. “Do you think she’ll notice if we just go to yours to shag after dinner?”
Marcus laughed, although the thought of shagging had been on his mind a lot in the past hour. “Oh, knowing Cottia, she’ll rent us a limo and probably carry the three of us in there.”
“She would, wouldn’t she?” Esca asked, sighing.
Part 6
Taking him home, on the other hand, was hard. Esca would be gone for almost a week, and it felt like Marcus had just got back from his trip. Truthfully, that day was the only time they’d had together, and being separated again was not a prospect Marcus was looking forward to. On the other hand, this was the last time Esca had to go away that season, so they’d be able to spend much more time together. The thought of that lifted Marcus’ spirits. A little.
When he’d parked the car in front of Esca’s building, they just sat in the silence, neither moving, until at last Esca undid his seatbelt.
“Put your seat back,” he said, looking out the windshield. Marcus looked at him, brow wrinkled, wondering what he was up to. But then Esca looked at him and Marcus obeyed, bending over to slide the seat back as far as it would go. Before it had slid all the way, Esca was crawling over the console and planting himself on Marcus’ lap. It was awkward and not very smooth, his foot got stuck on the steering wheel and his head bumped the ceiling, but then he was there, straddled over Marcus’ lap, breath puffing gently over Marcus’ face.
“You are insane, you realize,” Marcus said, wrapping his arms around Esca and pulling him closer.
“I’ve always wanted to do that,” Esca said, shrugging. “I saw it in a movie once, apparently not as cool in real life.” Marcus had to agree. “But now that I’m here,” Esca said quietly, leaning down and kissing the breath right out of Marcus.
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. “And I won’t be able to tear my eyes away from the TV.”
“Keep your phone with you, yeah?” Esca said, his eyes gleaming in the dim light of the cab. “I’ll call when I can.”
“Okay,” Marcus said, leaning in for another kiss, now that it was time to let go. “Love you.”
“Love you back,” Esca said, reaching over the seat to grab his satchel and pulling open Marcus’ door. “Bye,” he said, kissing Marcus one last time.
“Break a leg,” Marcus said, wondering if it was the right thing to say, but Esca just laughed and said, “you bet,” closing the door behind him and jogging toward the front door, not looking back. Marcus watched him in the rear-view mirror until he went inside, then started the truck with a sigh.
**
Esca was scheduled to skate on Wednesday and Friday, and was coming home Sunday. In a stroke of luck, Marcus had games on Thursday and Saturday, which he was thrilled about. Being able to watch live was a real bonus. By the time Wednesday rolled around, Marcus was a basket case. He and Esca had spoken several times on the phone, but it just wasn’t enough. By the time he sat down with Uncle to watch, he was anxious and excited, wanting to see Esca, if only through a TV screen.
Waiting for Esca’s program was nerve wracking, and Esca was scheduled near the end of the night. Marcus watched with nervous anticipation while the scores got higher, as the skaters got better. He knew Esca would be right up there with the leaders, if not leading the pack, but it was still difficult for Marcus to watch the scores mounting and knowing there was nothing he could do about it.
When Esca came on at last, Marcus’ stomach leapt, like it had every other time he’d seen Esca like this. He looked cool and collected, completely professional, dressed in black pin stripe slacks and waistcoat, with a crisp white shirt underneath. He wore a black and grey striped tie, with a matching handkerchief, the over all effect was striking. Marcus took in a deep breath and let it out, shaky, wishing he could be there in person.
Esca’s program was packed with jumps and spins and exquisite footwork to a catchy jazz tune. Marcus cheered out loud when he landed a flawless quad toe, triple toe combo, and again when he spun out of his final spin into the end pose.
They waited impatiently for the score, then Marcus jumped up and cheered again when Esca received the highest score yet, not only for the competition, not only for himself, but a world record score.
“God, he’s amazing,” Marcus gushed, slumping back beside Uncle on the couch. “Did you see that last spin? I swear he was going faster than I’ve ever seen, and his skate didn’t even move, you’d think he was on a dime or something.”
“It was certainly spectacular,” Uncle said, grinning nearly as wide as Marcus. “But we knew all along he is that good, what amazes me is your enthusiasm. I never thought I’d see the day when I’d see you that passionate about something other than hockey.”
“I’d give hockey up in a second if the choice was between it and him,” Marcus said, still watching the screen, where the next skater was finishing up his short program.
“I know you would, my boy,” Uncle said, patting Marcus’ arm. “It makes me very happy to see you so happy.”
“Thanks,” Marcus said, smiling at him and then turning his attention back to the TV, his uncle chuckling beside him. The final skater was just finishing up and, like the ones before him, could not match Esca’s score, in fact, he hadn’t even come close. So Esca was the leader after one skate, by a wide margin.
Once the skating was done, the interviews started, something Marcus hadn’t realized he’d been waiting for until Esca’s flushed, smiling face was on the screen in front of him. He barely listened to the words being exchanged, focused instead on memorizing Esca’s face all over again.
It was over far too soon, and they went on to interviewing the other skaters, which Marcus watched only half-heartedly. He knew he should go to bed, he had a game the following evening, in addition to school, but he hoped that he could stretch it out, hoping that Esca would call him. And, just when Marcus’ had given up hope of that happening, his phone rang, the familiar sound byte indicating that it was Esca.
He tugged it out of his pocket quickly and answered, “Esca? Yeah, we saw. No, hang on a sec,” he said, standing and pulling the phone away from his ear. “I’m heading up to bed, Uncle,” he said, trying to ignore his uncle’s smirk.
“Good night, Marcus,” Uncle said. “Give Esca my congratulations.”
“I will,” Marcus said, heading out of the room and upstairs.
“Tell your Uncle I said thank you,” Esca said when Marcus told him he was back.
“I will,” Marcus said, slightly breathless from taking the stairs two at a time. “Seriously though, you were amazing. Flawless.”
“You would think so,” Esca replied, his voice light with amusement. “You’re biased.”
“The judges thought so too, and they’re not in love with you,” Marcus pointed out, and Esca had to agree.
“A world record? They don’t just hand scores like that out to anyone,” Marcus said, closing his bedroom door and throwing himself backwards onto his bed. His cock had been half hard since watching Esca skate and now that he was alone in the dim light of his room, with Esca’s smooth, husky voice in his ear, it had hardened completely.
“I suppose you’re right,” Esca said, his voice lowering a bit. “Honestly, it was inspiring to know that you’d be watching.”
“Yeah?” Marcus asked, still feeling breathless, but for a completely different reason.
“Yeah. I wanted to call you before, but Andrew said it would be too distracting,” Esca laughed quietly. “He’s probably right, if I’d talked to you before I’d probably be half hard going out onto the ice.”
Marcus’ cock twitched at that, and he could no longer risk rubbing it, stroking slowly over his pyjama pants. “Next time you should, it’s only fair,” Marcus said, closing his eyes and letting his other senses take over.
“Oh yeah?” Esca asked. “Why’s that?”
“Because watching you skate makes me hard,” Marcus said plainly. “Which is a bit awkward while sitting with my uncle, let me tell you.”
“No more awkward than sporting a hard-on on the ice in front of an arena full of people, and a national TV audience,” Esca said. “My costumes aren’t exactly forgiving in that area.”
“I’ve noticed,” Marcus said, his voice getting raspy as he gave in to the inevitable and pulled his cock out, squeezing gently before letting it lay on his belly, tickling the underside with his fingertips, imagining they were Esca’s instead.
“Oh, I bet you have,” Esca replied. “Are you still hard, Marcus?” he asked, and Marcus shivered, loving the way Esca said his name in that tone, his accent sounding it out differently than how anyone else did.
“Yeah,” Marcus admitted, unable and unwilling to deny it, stroking himself slowly now.
“Are you wanking?” Esca asked pointedly. “‘Cause I totally am.”
“Nguh,” Marcus moaned, squeezing his cock, stroking quicker now. “Where are you?” he asked, suddenly remembering that Esca had just competed in a major competition and there were bound to be people everywhere.
“Changing room,” Esca said. “I’m not ashamed to say that I’m in the furthest toilet from the showers.”
Marcus gave a breathless laugh, oddly turned on by the thought that Esca had snuck away to find a place to call Marcus and have a wank.
“Do you miss me yet, Marcus?” Esca asked, a hitch in his voice. Marcus could imagine him, leaning against the wall of some random toilet stall, pants opened and pulled down to reveal his stiff cock, one hand holding the phone to his ear and the other stroking his cock roughly.
“Fuck, yes,” Marcus said, gasping for breath. “I want you back, preferably naked and in my bed.”
Esca groaned. “Only a few more days and I will be,” he said. “I can’t wait to strip you and suck your gorgeous cock until you come down my throat.” Marcus’ hand sped up, his mind conveniently providing him with accompanying images. He could feel the peak approaching, but Esca wasn’t done yet.
“Then I’ll fuck you until you’re hard again, and I won’t stop until you come all over yourself,” he continued, but Marcus had heard enough, his arousal had reached a fever pitch, and with a cry, he came, biting his lip to hold in any errant sounds. From the shaky breathing on the other end of the line, Esca had come as well, whether from his own words or from the muffled sound of Marcus’ orgasm, he wasn’t about to guess.
“That was,” he panted, and Esca finished the sentence for him.
“Fantastic,” he said, and Marcus could hear rattling noises and a bit of static, presumably as Esca wiped his hand off.
“Yeah,” he agreed, not bothering to wipe himself just yet. Luckily for him, he needn’t be seen in public anytime soon, unlike Esca. Marcus felt a pang of longing, wishing they could be together. ‘soon,’ he reminded himself.
“So, you’ll be watching on Friday, yeah?” Esca asked.
“Yeah,” Marcus replied, grinning with anticipation. Friday was only two days away and then Esca would be home on Sunday. Suddenly it didn’t look so far away. “Luke and Cottia are gonna come over and watch with me, and Uncle and Stephan, make it a proper party.”
“Shit,” Esca said, and Marcus could hear a voice calling, which he assumed was Andrew looking for Esca. “I’d better go, before Andrew does his nut.”
“If you must,” Marcus says, smiling. “Call me tomorrow, ‘kay?”
“You bet. Night, Marcus,” Esca said softly. Marcus swallowed a sigh and just said, “night,” waiting for Esca to hang up, which he promptly did. Marcus sighed out loud and ended the call, just laying on his bed and staring at the ceiling for a few minutes before he realized that his hand was sticky and his belly cold and uncomfortable. He tossed the phone aside and pulled off his soiled t-shirt, wiping off the obvious mess and tossing the shirt in the hamper before heading to the bathroom for a proper clean, Esca’s voice still in his ears.
**
The game the following night was one of Marcus’ best. He had always been a high energy player, but he was really on fire that night. Two goals and two assists, one of each a short handed goal; he was out skating, out checking and out hitting every other player, and managed to get only one penalty. All in all, an excellent game, and it left Marcus’ spirits high.
He fell into bed that night, exhausted, ready to get up tomorrow and suffer through the day until Esca’s skate. He thanked heaven that Esca was only in LA, so that there was no time difference.
By the time he’d made it home from school, he was a bit of a basket case. So much so that Uncle insisted he go take a run before dinner, to calm his nerves. Marcus didn’t think it would work, but he did it anyway, running hard and fast, the pounding of his feet on the pavement temporarily drowning out his thoughts.
After the run he needed a shower, relaxing his muscles even as he scrubbed himself clean. But there, his thoughts inevitably turned to Esca, to wondering what he was doing at that moment, if he was nervous, if he was excited, if he was thinking of Marcus or focusing on the skate ahead.
Thinking of Esca led to thoughts of the conversation they’d shared on Wednesday after the short program, and that led to Marcus’ hand dropping to his half hard cock, which led to stroking, which, well. It wasn’t long before Marcus was coming all over the tile, eyes clenched shut against the flow of water, knees shaky and muscles weak, from the run or the shower or the wank, Marcus wasn’t sure. It was probably all three, but he was still slow and methodical as he got out of the shower and dried off. He pulled on some clean clothes and headed downstairs, knowing that Luke and Cottia would arrive soon.
They had actually arrived while he was in the shower, and were engaged in an animated discussion about Canadian hockey vs European hockey, the debate sparked by Don Cherry’s acerbic remarks about Alexander Ovechkin and the ‘soccer style’ goal celebrations.
“...to admit he goes too far,” Cottia was saying and Uncle was nodding, although Luke seemed to disagree.
“He has a point though, Cottia, and he’s not afraid to speak up about it,” Luke interjected. “All these Europeans come over and in a lot of ways they’re more skilled than the average Canadian player, because on those football fields they call rinks, they can skate circles around all the other players-”
“If they have that skill, why shouldn’t they use it to their advantage?” Uncle interrupted, with Cottia nodding along.
“It’s not a matter of their skill with the puck, it’s their style of play, and the grand-standing that goes on after every goal,” Luke insisted. “As if every goal they score is an individual effort.”
“Well it is, isn’t it?” Cottia said, shaking her head.
“Not the way we play,” Marcus said, leaning on the counter and joining the discussion. “On a smaller ice surface you have to battle for the puck, there’s no room to skate around the ice making pretty goals for the cameras, we have to battle it out on the boards and get those rebound goals.”
“Well, what’s wrong with the pretty goals?” Uncle asked.
“Nothing in and of themselves, it’s the individual mindset that’s behind that style of play. Here we need every player involved, someone has to fight the puck off the boards, someone has to take the long shots, someone has to be in the slot fighting for the rebounds, and you have to pass the puck around, because there’s no room to skate with it. That’s why assists are as important as goals, perhaps more. If you aren’t looking out for your team mate and setting him up to score, he won’t.”
“Exactly,” Luke agreed. “The difference is that the Canadian-trained players are the fighters, and I don’t mean brawling, Cottia, and the Europeans aren’t. They’re used to a more open game where they can make all the moves they need, but they don’t pass as much and when they’re hit, they stay down as if it’s the end of the world. That style of play just doesn’t fly on our ice surface.”
“The smaller ice surface lends itself to a more aggressive style of play, and that’s what we call Canadian hockey. We don’t have room to glide around the ice like...” Marcus trailed off looking for a comparison, but Luke found one for him.
“Like a figure skater,” he said with a laugh, nudging Marcus in the ribs. Uncle and Cottia laughed, while Marcus blushed a bit, but he agreed with the sentiment.
“Exactly,” he agreed. “It’s a team game and every goal is a team effort. These guys who grandstand after every goal are showing a lack of respect for the gritty game we play over here, as if it’s all about them and not about the team. And that’s why they get hurt, because the other players don’t respect that.”
“Isn’t that the point of cracking down on the heavy hitters?” Cottia asked. “Dad says they’re only trying to clean up the game.”
“No, there’s more to it than that,” Luke insisted. “If you can’t check someone into the boards or stop them mid-ice from going after your guy with the puck, you might as well just hand it to them. It’s about beating the other guy to the puck, and it’s about protecting your team mate who has it.”
“It comes back to the team effort,” Marcus added. “Some of the European players don’t pass the puck, even when they have a clean opportunity, because they aren’t thinking about the best, surest way of getting the goal, they aren’t thinking about the team. They’re thinking about how they are going to get another goal for their tallies.”
“You see a lot of unassisted goals in that style of play, and it’s just at odds with everything we are taught here,” Luke said. “It’s about the team, not the individual.”
“I think we’re a little out numbered here, Cottia,” Uncle said, gesturing to the table and leading the way. They all sat down, but the conversation wasn’t done, not that Marcus minded. There’s nothing he’d rather talk about than hockey, with the exception of Esca.
“You have to admit that Cherry goes too far, though,” Cottia said, and Marcus could see her point.
“Oh, I’ll admit he’s a wee bit xenophobic, but he’s also been around a long time and he sees the game that’s been played in Canada for a hundred years being eroded by these individually minded players,” Marcus said. “No wonder it pisses him off, and you have to realize that he understands hockey in a way a lot of fans don’t, and he respects the game.”
“Besides, he’s got a point,” Luke said. “When you get those players acting like that, as if every goal is another stroke to their egos, it’s disrespectful to their team mates. The other players won’t stand up for them in the same way, and it just creates an us versus them mind set and it affects team unity on and off the ice.”
Marcus was nodding along as he ate.
“But all that checking leads to more penalties and fights,” Uncle pointed out.
“And injuries,” Cottia agreed, but Marcus and Luke just shared a look and an eye roll.
“Not if it’s done with respect to the other team, which doesn’t happen when the other player is a grand-stander. It’s like pissing on the tradition we were raised on.”
“Marcus, that’s a little crude, isn’t it?” Uncle scolded but Marcus stood his ground.
“Maybe the words are, but the sentiment is there,” he insisted. “If you’re trying to change the game, take out the checking, crack down on the fighting, it’s not only disrespectful to the Canadian style of play, it’s detrimental to the morale of the team.”
“What the average fan doesn’t realize is that most of the fighting that goes on isn’t so much a personal thing as a defense of a team mate, or retaliation for dirty play or taunting,” Luke said. “It’s not about the guy fighting, it’s about the team as a whole.”
“Exactly,” Marcus agreed, pointing his fork in Luke’s direction.
“Well, Cottia, I suppose we should give up while we’re ahead,” Uncle said with a sigh. “I guess we should defer to those in the trenches, as it were.”
“If we must,” Cottia agreed, sighing dramatically. “I’ll never understand hockey players.”
“And yet, you are surrounded by them,” Luke said, smiling fondly at her. Marcus noticed and so did Uncle, if his meaningful look was any indication. More telling was Cottia’s return smile.
“You’ll have to try and explain it to me,” Cottia said, and Luke flushed, just a little.
“Maybe I will,” he said, to Cottia’s delight.
“It will have to be another time, however,” Uncle said. “Coverage is about to start.”
“I thought Stephan was coming over,” Marcus said.
“Oh, he’s late as usual,” Uncle replied, shaking his head. “He’s probably arguing with his sister about their plans to buy some big property out in Alberta. Mark my words, he’ll be flying out by the end of April to save them from themselves.”
They shared a laugh, getting down the business of dinner, the mood lightened considerably.
**
Stephan arrived while they were cleaning up, grumbling about overpriced, flashy properties and bandwagon investors, but Uncle placated him before long and everyone crowded into the TV room to watch. Marcus took note of Cottia settling into the loveseat beside Luke, Marcus slumping into the adjacent chair while Uncle and Stephan took the couch.
“Oh, I wish Esca didn’t have to skate last,” Cottia said with a sigh.
“It’s a good thing though,” Uncle replied. “It means he’s in the lead.”
“And quite a lead at that,” Stephan commented.
“That’s because no one can match him,” Marcus said, his voice conveying his bias.
“Yes, we all know he’s the bestest boyfriend ever,” Luke said, teasing. “But we’re talking about figure skating.” Marcus threw a pillow at him.
“Since we have time to kill,” Cottia said. “Are you boys excited for the prom?”
“What’s that?” Marcus asked, ducking when Cottia took the pillow from Luke and threw it back at him, missing and hitting Stephan instead.
“Hey now, no beating up the old man,” Stephan said with a laugh the others shared.
“Your aim sucks,” Marcus said, and Cottia stuck her tongue out at him.
“Seriously, have you given it any thought at all?” Cottia, asked. “It’s just over a month away. And you,” she said turning toward Luke. “You had better pick your best suit, I don’t want to have the scruffiest date there.”
“I’m taking you to prom?” Luke asked, his eyes wide.
“Unless there’s someone else you’d rather go with?” Cottia asked, her tone making the answer clear.
“No, no,” Luke said quickly, his cheeks flushing again. “No, there’s no one else.”
“Good,” Cottia said, smiling brightly at him. “That’s settled.” She turned to Marcus, who tried to shrink down in his chair.
“Now, do you and Esca have plans for dinner? The four of us should go out together.”
“I was hoping we could just skip it, actually,” Marcus said, envisioning confrontations from people like Charlie, or glares and disdainful looks from those who agreed but were not so vocal about it.
“And miss your prom?” Cottia was scandalized by the very idea. “I’m sure Esca would disagree with you.”
“He’s not a girl, Cottia,” Marcus said. “He probably doesn’t care either.”
“Well, I’ll have to insist then. I’ll expect the both of you to join Luke and I for dinner,” she said, crossing her arms and turning to the TV, as if the discussion was over. Marcus shot a look at his uncle but he just shrugged.
“Don’t you want to go with Ang and her date?” Luke asked. Cottia scrunched up her nose.
“No, she’s going with Charlie,” she said, shaking her head sadly. “She’s decided she agrees with his opinions about Marcus and Esca, so naturally I had to stop hanging around with her.” Luke took her hand and gave it a squeeze.
“That’s too bad, Cottia,” Uncle said. “I hope she comes around.”
“Not while she’s dating my brother, she won’t,” Cottia said. “She’s had a crush on him for years.”
“I didn’t think you realized,” Marcus said.
“Of course I did,” Cottia replied. “How could I miss the way she mooned over him every time she came over?”
“Look,” Stephan interrupted, pointing at the screen where Esca’s group of skaters had just begun their warm ups.
“Finally,” Marcus said, sitting forward in his chair, his eyes tracking Esca form one camera angle to the next.
“Ooh, he looks good,” Cottia said, and Marcus couldn’t help but agree. He looked extra sharp in a pair of black slacks and a trim fitting suit jacket, a patterned vest underneath completing the ensemble.
“Has he worn that before, Marcus?” Uncle asked, and Marcus shook his head.
“No, he’s been working on a new routine,” he said. “The outfit goes with it, apparently.”
“Well it suits him,” Cottia said. “I can’t wait to see him skate.”
The other skaters took the ice one by one, ratcheting up the tension, setting Marcus on the edge of his seat, until finally, during the last commercial break before the top three, he got up and headed to the kitchen. He poured a glass of water in an attempt to distract himself, feeling a little more settled when he sat down again.
“Wow, Marcus, someone would think you were skating tonight,” Luke said with a wink.
“No, I’m never this nervous before a game,” Marcus said, but further conversation was stopped when the commercial ended and there was Esca, gliding across the ice with ease, preparing himself for the start of his program. The announcers were discussing his performances in previous competitions, commenting on how astounding his successes were in light of his almost quitting the sport the previous year, after tragically losing his family.
Luke and Cottia turned to stare at Marcus, jaws dropped in shock, neither of them having had any idea about Esca’s past, but then, Marcus knew that he wanted it that way.
“Later,” he replied to their stares, gesturing to the screen where the first notes were playing and Esca began to move, his motions fluid, as if he was poured out over the ice instead of skating on it. He wound around the ice once before throwing himself into a jump, spinning out of it into more footwork, then building up for another series of jumps, all landed precisely, effortlessly.
The music built, tinkling over a series of notes as intricate as the footwork that matched them. Esca’s face was as expressive as ever, his whole body thrown into the role, the dance. He spun out of the footwork and into a spin, his hands starting low and moving up as his rotations increased, spinning so fast that his face was obscured.
“He seems to have an intensity here that goes beyond what he’s shown us in past competitions, and that’s saying something,” the announcer was commenting as Esca continued to flow over the ice.
“Indeed,” the other added. “And after so much turmoil in his personal life, for a while after the tragic death of his family, it was uncertain if he’d ever skate again competitively.”
“I’m sure I am not the only one who is thrilled that he decided to continue, a talent of his stature should not go unused,” the first said. “In an interview before the long program, Esca described his move to Canada and the decision to stay there permanently as a new starting point in his life.”
“New country, new coach, new outlook,” the second said.
“New boyfriend as well, from what I hear,” the first interjected, and they shared a laugh, as did those gathered to watch, which elicited a blush from Marcus, though he didn’t acknowledge them otherwise.
“Yes, that would help too,” the second said. “He certainly seems inspired. Just look at that spin,” he continued, as Esca performed another spin, a sit spin this time, his skate moving as if it was welded to the ice, allowing it to turn and still remain in the same place.
“He will certainly gain points for the lack of movement in the spin,” the first said. “And for the difficulty of the jumps, two quads in the first minute of the program, that has to increase his score as well.”
“And it did, if last night’s record breaking score was any indication,” they continued the discussion while Esca continued his program, leaping into the air with yet another quad, this one being lauded as a phenomenal show of athleticism, so close to the end of the program. When Esca had finished and the music had faded away, the crowd roared, a sound that Marcus was becoming accustomed to.
“He has to win,” Cottia exclaimed, bouncing on her seat.
“If he doesn’t it’ll be a scandal,” Uncle said. “Just listen to the crowd.”
“We’ll find out soon enough,” Stephan added.
“Wow, I knew he was good, but I had no idea how good,” Luke said, looking at Marcus in surprise.
“I know,” Marcus said. “You can’t tear your eyes away, can you?”
They all waited nervously, conversing quietly though Marcus couldn’t focus on the conversation when the camera was in close on Esca, discussing the performance with Andrew and waiting impatiently for his scores.
Finally the scores were up and there was Esca’s total, for the long program and for the overall.
“He did it!” Cottia cried, jumping up and down. The rest laughed, and Marcus just breathed a huge sigh of relief, pride and love filling him up as he watched Esca celebrate, wishing he could be there with them.
“Look,” he said, getting every one’s attention. “He didn’t just win, it’s a high score.”
“World record!” Uncle exclaimed, shaking his head in wonder. “Fabulous.”
“Marcus, aren’t you excited?” Cottia asked, having pulled Luke off the loveseat for a hug.
“I am, I just..can’t believe it,” he said, his body still, but his mind abuzz. He smiled up at her, and she must have seen something there that he wasn’t even aware of, because she just leaned down and kissed his forehead before flopping back on the love seat, chattering to Luke about how exciting it was and how Esca was their very own celebrity, until Marcus saw the picture switch from highlights of the skate back to Esca, who was standing beside one of the announcers, beaming.
“So Esca, this is a historic event, I can’t imagine what you’re feeling right now,” she said, tilting the microphone toward him.
“I can’t even tell you,” he replied, eyes wide. “I don’t even know, really.”
“I can imagine,” she laughed. “But here you are, eighteen years old, and it’s your first Worlds, and such a comeback after everything you’ve been through in the past year.”
“Yeah, it’s been rough, I was competing in the junior championships and hoping to be at Worlds last year, but I just...well, sometimes your life takes a turn that no one can predict,” he said, his tone taking a more somber pitch, though his face still showed his excitement. “It was along road back to where I’ve wanted to be, mentally mostly, but I feel like I’m finally in a place where I can accept it and move on, and not let it hold me back.”
“Well it certainly didn’t tonight,” the announcer said. “Not only did you take the Championship, but you’ve set three new world record scores, that has to be an amazing feeling.”
“Honestly, I can’t even believe it, I wanted the win and I skated after it, but the records,” he paused, shaking his head in disbelief. “I’ll have to get back to you on that one.”
“I was planning to ask you how you’re settling into Canada, what it’s like for you to live so far from where you grew up, but it seems that your performance has answered that question for me.”
“Oh, yeah, it was difficult at first, my family was still so fresh in my mind, but I’ve met some wonderful people, Andrew has been phenomenal, he’s really made me reach in many ways, with my artistry, with my technical routine. He’s really brought my weaknesses to the forefront and we’ve come a long way there.”
She nodded, grinning when Andrew’s hand came into view, giving Esca’s shoulder a shove, making him laugh. “Well, it’s certainly worked,” she said. “There wasn’t much in the way of weaknesses in your performances these past few nights. There has been talk that you’ve found someone special who has made a real change in your life, can you tell me about that?”
Cottia squealed like a schoolgirl, making Luke wince, but she didn’t notice, bouncing excitedly as Marcus stared at the screen, overwhelmed as Esca’s smile widened impossibly and he gave a little laugh.
“Yes, there has,” Esca replied, his face taking on a smitten kind of look, making Uncle give Marcus a little shove with his foot. “My boyfriend, he’s...he’s really made me feel like I’m at home again, you know? Like I can be safe and happy and I don’t have to spend my life living in the past, trying to live with the ghosts of my family, it’s been, illuminating, meeting him and getting to know him, quite an experience.”
“It shows in your skating, you had a presence about you tonight that, despite many wins this season, we haven't seen,” she commented, and Esca nodded along.
“It kind of all came together for me this weekend, like the merging of my past and future, and it really set me at ease, where I could just go out onto the ice and skate, it felt free again, like it was just me and the ice, and we were in it together, and he really helped me regain that, so it’s...yeah, it’s been great.”
“Well, I’ll let you get back to Andrew, he’s looking a bit antsy, and they’re going to award the medals soon, as well,” she said, and Esca nodded, a smile plastered on his face again. “Congratulations, and we’ll see you again next season, hopefully during the Olympic Games.”
“I look forward to it,” Esca said, giving the camera a wave and then turning away, all of it leaving Marcus speechless and elated in a way he’d never felt, even after his best game.
Two days, he reminded himself. Two days and Esca would be home.
**
Esca didn’t call Marcus until two hours later, when Marcus was lying in bed, wondering if he was going to get any sleep at all. When his phone rang, he snatched it up from his bedside table as if it was on fire.
“Esca,” he breathed, a smile splitting his face, somewhat sleepily.
“Marcus,” Esca replied. “I hope I didn’t wake you.”
“Nah, I’ve been lying awake thinking about you,” Marcus said. “I’m glad you called. Where are you?”
“Just got back to the hotel,” Esca said.
“What, just now?”
“Yeah,” Esca confirmed. “Lots of interviews, and a shiny gold medal for my Nan to hang in her shrine.”
Marcus laughed at the sardonic tone of Esca’s voice, just happy to hear it.
“I’m so thrilled for you,” Marcus said. “You were absolutely amazing tonight.”
“Thanks, I...well, your gift really meant a lot to me,” Esca said, and Marcus swallowed, remembering Esca’s comments from before.
“Did you mean it, what you said?” he asked, before his brain caught up with his mouth.
“Of course I did,” Esca said, a faint whump making Marcus think that he’d fallen backwards onto the bed. “You’ve changed everything, Marcus.”
Marcus’ throat felt thick suddenly, he tried to swallow it down, with little success. “When are you coming home?” he asked suddenly, his mouth still speaking before he’d thought about what he was going to say.
“Sunday morning,” Esca replied. “We have an eight am flight, so we’ll be in at about eleven.”
“I’ll pick you up, or I can meet you somewhere in town, if that works better,” Marcus said, a plan forming in his mind.
“I...sure,” Esca said. “I’d love that.”
“Great. And, if you’re interested, there’s a Canucks game Sunday night, and we wanted to see one, so...” Marcus said.
“That’d be great,” Esca said, and Marcus was pleased to hear excitement in his voice.
“We can come home late, if that’s okay.”
“Aren’t you going to be tired for practice?” Esca asked
“Yes, but it’ll be worth it,” Marcus replied. “I’ll just sleep through school instead,” he said and Esca laughed.
“Yeah, I’d love to,” Esca said. “I’ll call Nan in the morning and let her know I’ll be late.”
“Okay,” Marcus said, finally feeling like he could sleep.
“I’d better go, tomorrow will be busy with the press conference and things,” Esca said, sounding regretful. “I’ll call you tomorrow as well, yeah?”
“Okay,” Marcus repeated. “Love you.”
“You too,” Esca said. “Sleep.”
“‘Kay. Bye.”
“Good night, Marcus.”
**
At a few minutes to noon on the following Sunday, Marcus was pacing nervously outside the restaurant, where he’d told Esca he would be. He didn’t know why he was so nervous, but the anticipation was making him crazy. They would be there any minute, but still, he paced. Until a black sedan pulled into the parking lot, stopping in the parking spot next to Marcus’ truck.
“Hi!” Esca called as he practically leapt out of the vehicle, once it had stopped moving. He threw himself at Marcus when he was close enough, arms around Marcus’ neck. Marcus returned the embrace, burying his face into Esca’s neck and breathing him in, thrilled that he was finally home. The previous seven days had felt much longer than a week.
Finally they pulled back, Esca’s had cupping Marcus’ jaw as Marcus gripped him by the shoulders, just smiling at each other until Andrew interrupted them.
“Aren’t you two a pair of smitten fools,” he commented with a smirk and a quirked eyebrow.
Marcus laughed as Esca grumbled, “thanks Andrew.”
“I call ‘em like I see ‘em,” Andrew said, patting Esca on the shoulder. “Your suitcase is in the truck, I’ll drop the rest off with your Nan, alright.”
“That’s great Andrew, thanks a lot,” Esca said, shaking his hand.
“You bet,” Andrew replied. “Enjoy your week off, I’ll see you next Monday. Have fun, boys.”
“Bye,” Esca said, as Marcus called, “Thanks Andrew.”
A moment later they were alone, turning to each other again and sharing a long, deep kiss, expressing all their relief to be together again.
“Congratulations, Mr. World Figure Skating Champion,” Marcus said with a grin as he held Esca close.
“Thanks,” Esca said. “It was pretty amazing.”
“Right then, you hungry?”
“Definitely,” Esca said, pulling back. “I haven’t eaten since breakfast.”
“Great, lets get your bag in the truck, I don’t trust it in the open in the big city,” Marcus said, pulling Esca’s suitcase out and locking it in the cab.
“So, the Spaghetti Factory?” Esca asked, scrunching his nose. “Pasta, then?”
“They have plenty of other stuff,” Marcus said, taking his hand and walking toward the doors. “It’s one of Uncle’s favorites, and I thought we could walk around Gastown for a bit. The game doesn’t start until seven.”
“Sure, sounds great,” Esca agreed. Soon they were settled and browsing the menu, Esca having received a raised brow from Marcus for ordering a coke. Esca was generally strict about his diet, Marcus doubted he’d had a pop since the day he ran into Charlie in the cafeteria the first day of school.
But when the waitress took their orders and Esca ordered calamari to start and a bacon cheeseburger, Marcus couldn’t help but comment, though he waited until he had placed his own order for some pesto chicken linguine.
“A coke and now a cheeseburger? Who are you and what did you do to Esca?” Marcus said dramatically, and Esca laughed.
“Hey, I just won the world championships, and I’m done competing until the fall,” Esca said, taking a sip of his coke. “I can have a burger today, back to normal tomorrow.”
“If you say so,” Marcus said, reaching across the table and playing with his fingers, running the tips of his up and down then, drawing patterns on Esca’s palm, eliciting a very enticing shiver.
“So a week off, eh?” Marcus said. “You deserve it.”
“I thought so,” Esca said, grinning. “I’m going to skate Saturday, but Andrew will take the weekend off. He deserves it too.”
“He works as hard as you do,” Marcus commented.
“And I’m not the only person he coaches. But at least he’ll get to sleep in a bit,” Esca said.
“So will you,” Marcus pointed out.
“I will,” Esca said, his smile returning in force. “I like getting up early, but it is nice to sleep in and take things easy a bit now and then.”
“I know what you mean,” Marcus said. “Not too much though, or you’ll throw your routine off.”
Esca grinned as the calamari was placed in front of him, thanking the waitress. She had brought them two plates, so he handed one to Marcus, waving it in the air when Marcus seemed to be hesitating.
“Sure, why not,” Marcus said. “I love calamari.”
“Mmm, me too,” Esca said, squeezing lemon juice over the whole dish before picking up a piece and popping it in his mouth with relish. “I haven’t had it in a long time, since before I left England.”
“Do you ever regret it?” Marcus asked, dipping his piece in tzatziki before eating.
“Leaving England?” Esca asked, continuing when Marcus nodded. “No. I mean, I didn't exactly hate it there, it’s where I was born and raised, you know? But after...well, it was easier to relocate here.”
“Because your Nan was here?”
“Yes, that’s the main reason,” Esca confirmed. “Although I have a grandfather in England who everyone assumed I would go live with.”
“Why didn’t you?” Marcus asked. Esca hadn’t mentioned a grandfather, but then again, Esca didn’t seem to mention anything without a specific reason.
“Well, being there, it was too hard. Everything reminded me of them, even Grandad’s place. We’d spent summers there. He lived by the ocean. The picture you put on my display was taken there.”
“I can imagine that would be difficult,” Marcus said.
“It was but, that wasn’t it, really. I mean, people have to move on with their lives, right?” Esca ate another piece of calamari, his eyes staring out into the restaurant, likely not seeing anything at all.
“Then what?” Marcus asked. He didn’t want to push, but he did think that Esca was ready to talk about it.
Esca turned back with a sigh. “Well, Grandad is a bit set in his ways, you know how older people get?” Marcus nodded, so Esca continued. “Well, he’d always hated my skating, called me down on it a lot, you know, it’s a girl’s sport and if I was a real boy I’d want to play football or something. The usually taunts.”
Esca took a sip of his drink, swallowing slowly. “Anyway, you can imagine what he thought when he found out that I’m gay.”
Marcus’ eyes widened. He knew he was lucky to have Uncle, but he’d never really thought about having a family member who was so homophobic. Marcus could tell from his opinion of figure skating what his opinion about homosexuality would be.
“I can. Esca, that sucks,” he said apologetically.
“Yeah, he made life difficult. My mom would stand up for me, but mostly he just ignored me from then on,” Esca said with a sad look. “He’d never really liked me, and then I was insisting on skating and then I came out, and that was the end of it for him. I doubt he’d have let me live there, even if I’d wanted to.”
“I’m so happy your Nan isn’t like that,” Marcus said.
“Yeah, she’s always hated Grandad. She loved my mom, but commented occasionally about how surprising it is my mom was wonderful when raised by a man like that,” Esca said, with a small smirk. “I don’t think we were meant to hear that, but we were sneaky.”
Marcus laughed. “I bet you were.”
“So anyway, deciding to move here was the only real choice, not that I minded. I needed a change to shake me up.” Esca stopped when the waitress arrived with their meals, taking their used dishes.
Esca lifted his burger right away and took a huge bite, his eyes fluttering shut in bliss and a low moan coming from his throat. Marcus’ mouth dried up, hanging open as it was. A week was a long time for a teenager who has become used to sex to go without. And he wouldn’t have a chance until the next day, to his chagrin.
“Mmm, so good,” Esca said when he’d swallowed his bite and then took a sip of his pop.
“Yeah,” Marcus croaked, taking a sip of his own drink to moisten his throat. “It looks good,” he said, while his brain substituted ‘you’ for ‘it’.
“So, what did you get up to while I was away?” Esca asked between bites.
“Not much,” Marcus said. “Met a scout for the Flyers, but I really am hoping for the Canucks. I want to stay in Canada, but BC would be preferable.”
Esca nodded, still looking like he was making love to his cheeseburger. Marcus closed his eyes. “Oh, and apparently we’re going to the prom with Luke and Cottia,” Marcus added.
“What?” Esca’s attention was suddenly fixed on Marcus. “Since when?”
“Since Friday night. They came over to watch you kick ass and Cottia insisted that not only was Luke her date, but that the four of us were going to dinner before prom.”
“And you agreed?” Esca asked. “Do you really want to go to prom?”
“Not especially,” Marcus replied. “Although so many people think it’s one of those rights of passage things.”
“I can think of a few dozen things I’d rather be doing,” Esca said wryly. “Do you think she’ll notice if we just go to yours to shag after dinner?”
Marcus laughed, although the thought of shagging had been on his mind a lot in the past hour. “Oh, knowing Cottia, she’ll rent us a limo and probably carry the three of us in there.”
“She would, wouldn’t she?” Esca asked, sighing.
Part 6