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    Mark Arbour
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Bloodlines - 11. Chapter 11

August 12, 1998


There are times when life is good, when I feel like I'm on a cloud, or on top of the world. This was one of those times. I raced around the rink, which was virtually empty, flying, stretching my muscles, pushing my limits. It was exhilarating to be back in this milieu. I got a dirty look from a few of the beginners, but I also got a couple of looks from the figure skating instructor in the center. That was how rinks were organized. The lame-ass figure skaters dicked around in the center while everyone else got the oval to skate on.

Figure skating was pretty gay. Totally gay. Gay in that most of the guys who figure skated were gay, and ‘gay’ in the slang way that meant the same thing as a total loser activity. I acknowledged a basic problem there. On the one hand, there was the inherent conflict between hockey and figure skating, culminating in an argument about who got what ice time. On the other hand, some of the figure skaters were smokin'. The girl working today was no exception. She was short, about 5' 3”, with a slim body highlighted by her body suit. She had a really cute face, and short blond hair. I skated really hard, showing off. What a ham I was. Darius was staggering around the ice and I blew past him. He flipped me off so on my next pass I did a hockey stop, spraying ice all over him.

“Fucker,” he said, but he was kind of laughing anyway. His eyes were directed one place and one place only: at the cute figure skating instructor. He was so smooth he was laughing to make it look like he was too cool to be freaked out by some frozen water. It was too funny. After about an hour, Will and Darius were pretty competent, skating around the rink, so we started horsing around, bugging the shit out of everyone, but not JJ. I looked around for him, wondering where he'd gone, until I glanced out at the middle of the rink and looked at something besides the hot chick. There was JJ, watching her teach some girl how to figure skate and trying to mimic her moves in the other half of the center. Only he was really good.

I stopped skating and stood to the side, watching him. He said he had never skated, but that was hard to believe. He had such amazing balance. Where did he learn that?

“JJ's pretty good,” Will said. Both Will and Darius were pretty protective of him, I'd noticed.

“Yeah, what's with that?” I asked. “He never skated?”

“He was into gymnastics but he got bored with it,” Will said. “He was pretty good at that too.”

“You know, Darius, there's one big downside to his talent,” I said.

“What?” he asked skeptically.

“That coach only has eyes for him,” I said. “Think you can pull off a double axel? Do a pirouette?”

“Yeah, I think I better move on to a newer, hotter chick,” he said, cracking me up. I saw the coach finish up with the other girl, her lesson evidently ending, and then she skated over to JJ. I saw her talking to him, and I could see him blushing, which made all three of us snicker. Then he pointed to us and she started skating over toward us. Darius shit a brick; Mr. Big Talker.

She did a graceful stop right in front of me, much classier than my abrupt ones. “Hey there. So where's your stick?” She was teasing me. Figure skaters all maintained that hockey players couldn't skate worth a shit, that we were just ice thugs.

“I'll show you my stick anytime,” I said, flirting.

“It's probably all beat up and scarred. That's what happens when you rub it against every guy on the ice,” she taunted back playfully. You have no idea, I thought.

“Lately I'm the only one who's been handling it, so it's in pretty good shape,” I said and raised an eyebrow. “I'm new out here.”

“Well, I'll let you handle your own stick. He your kid?” she asked.

“Could be,” I said, pretending to be this man about town. She rolled her eyes. “He's my brother.” Darius and Will looked at me funny. That's the first time I'd ever referred to any of them as my brother.

“He's good,” she said. “How long has he been skating?”

I looked at my watch. “About two hours now.”

“Cute. We're talking skating, so cut the shit,” she said. It was like all of a sudden we had this professional bond and had to be serious. Our mutual love of frozen water, evidently. But I went with it.

“I'm serious, but I've been away for a while. Ask Darius,” I said, giving the little shit an in.

“He's done some gymnastics, but this is his first time on the ice,” Darius said so nervously Will started to giggle. I slid my skate back in a smooth motion that was almost imperceptible and pulled Will's legs out from under him, knocking him onto the ice and conveniently shutting him up.

“He's got talent,” she said.

“You're just trying to drum up business,” I said, trying to piss her off a little bit.

“My dance card is full,” she said with a cocky air. “But if I find an exceptional boy, I can make room.”

“What about an exceptional man?” I said.

“No such thing,” she said. “Mind if I work with him for a half hour? I'll give you a freebie, so you can afford to get a bigger stick.”

“Go for it,” I said. She skated back to JJ and started working with him. He had a natural talent for this. He just glided across the ice. Will and Darius vanished into the lobby of the rink to play video games and eat food, while I skated slowly around, watching her work with JJ. I saw her finishing up and I went out to see them.

“You're really good JJ,” I said, giving him my classic 'knock down their shields' smile.

He beamed back at me. “Thanks Matt!”

“Would you like to skate again tomorrow?” the hot skater chick asked.

“That would be awesome!” he said.

“Show me some tricks,” I told him, to get rid of him. He jetted off and showed me how comfortable he was on the ice.

“He has talent. I can work with him. It'll cost you $50 an hour,” she said.

“Do you have a name?” I asked.

“Tiffany,” she said.

“Tiffany the figure skater,” I teased. Such a cliché name.

“You want me to work with him or not?” she demanded.

“What time tomorrow?” I asked.

“Two o'clock. Before the rink gets crowded.” I looked around, trying to visualize a crowd.

“Deal,” I said, extending my hand. She took it.

“You know, I was always taught that when someone introduced themselves to you, you should introduce yourself back,” she said, arching her eyebrow. Bitch. Caught me with my manners at half staff.

“I apologize for my oversight madam,” I said, bowing deeply. “I am Matt.”

“Nice to meet you, Matt. You can just drop him off tomorrow. Don't feel like you have to stay,” she said. God, she was exciting.

“You'd miss me if I weren’t here,” I said.

“How about if you don't show up and we find out,” she said, then turned and skated off to see JJ. I watched her sleek form. I could nail her in a week, maybe ten days, I thought, sizing up my chances. Then I shook that off. I had Alejandro and Cody around, both a fucking blast to fuck. No need to add this one to the mix and break her heart. I laughed at my own soaring ego and headed off the ice to take off my skates.

We ended up getting stuck in traffic, so we didn't get back home until 7:10pm. JP had this thing about everyone being punctually on time for dinner, so his irritation was palpable.

“We went ice skating!” JJ said enthusiastically.

“And you're late,” JP groused. Stef frowned at him.

I walked up to him and leaned in so only he and Stef could hear. “You're being a little anal retentive, aren't you? Need me to help unplug you?” He pushed me away playfully while Stef giggled. I missed those guys, or their asses anyway.

“I'm skating again tomorrow,” JJ announced.

“You've got a party tomorrow, JJ,” Jeanine said firmly.

“Screw the party. I'm skating,” he said. I smiled. He wasn't assertive like that normally, but ice could do that to you. I could see Jeanine starting to get pissed at him.

“I'm sorry, it's my fault. I shouldn't have scheduled his lessons without checking with you first,” I said. I'd found out Jeanine was a lesbian, but that didn't mean my charm wouldn't work a little bit.

“Lessons?” Brad asked.

“You should see him skate, Dad,” Will said. “He's awesome.”

“Really?” Brad said.

“He was skating in the center of the rink and a coach saw him and spent half an hour with him. She thinks he has potential, so I signed him up to spend a couple of hours with her,” I said. “Of course, if JJ can't go, Darius can take his place and get shot down for two hours while he tries to hit on her.”

“I didn't see you doing any better,” Darius said.

“Watch and learn boy,” I said patronizingly. He gave me a dirty look but I could tell by the twinkle in his eyes he was just having fun.

“I'm skating,” JJ said emphatically.

“What about this party, JJ?” Jeanine asked, irritated. “We said we'd go. It's Tyler's birthday.”

“I'm skating,” he said firmly.

“I think Tyler will understand,” Brad said, intervening. He'd picked up on it, on JJ's commitment.

“I suppose he will,” she said graciously. “I'll have to go watch.”

“Take a jacket,” I said.

“In August?”

“Ice rinks are cold. Get used to it. From what I saw, you'll be spending a lot of time in them,” I told her.

“You think he has talent?” she asked me seriously. “And how would a hockey player know anything about figure skating?”

“So you've skated before?” I asked her, teasing. “Yeah, he has talent. He's good.” I looked at her seriously, sternly. “I'm not shitting you.”

August 19, 1998

Dear Matt,

Your father and I think that, since you've concluded your business in Los Angeles and since you have almost a month before you move into the dorms, you should come home and visit. It's been lonely here without you, and we miss you.

Love,

Mummy

This was the e-mail that sat there on the screen of my laptop, the e-mail I'd been staring at for thirty minutes. I didn't want to leave, and I didn't want to go back to Cleveland. I liked it here, I was happier than I'd ever been. Except for the guilt, the guilt that came from knowing I was disappointing my parents by not visiting.

But in their eyes a visit would be two, maybe three weeks. And since my GMC would be in California, I'd be stranded at home, a virtual prisoner, unless I borrowed Mummy's Lexus. She'd let me, grudgingly. Most schools started before Stanford, so none of my friends would be home, only those still in high school, and how totally pathetic was that, to go back and hang out with high school kids? Or worse, to go back and run into Cam or Kelso. I had to figure out a way out of this. I sent her an e-mail back telling her that I had taken on a brief internship with Stef's company and that I was learning a lot. I told her I'd try to find a break before school to come back. She'd be thinking a week, I was thinking a weekend.

I headed down for our morning meeting. Ever since Brad and Stef had invited me, I'd been there at 8:00am every morning. It was fascinating, the way they analyzed business opportunities and also the way they looked at their current portfolio. I'd also gotten a look at how Stef's wealth was structured. He had his own personal assets, which were the bulk of it, plus he was a partner in a venture capital firm, so he owned a percentage of those assets too. I got the impression that Stef had pretty much decided to let his partner, Luke Carruthers, handle that part of his empire. I got a feeling that Luke was gung-ho on the tech sector, and that flew against Stef's plan to lighten his exposure.

“Good morning!” Brad said cheerfully. “Jeanine wants to know if you can take JJ to skate today.”

“Sure,” I said. A chance to skate and a chance to flirt with Tiffany. It was really fun to do that, because I really had no intention of following through. Not that I wouldn't, I just didn't want to. I had never been so sexually satisfied in my life. Damn. “I can hit on Tiffany.”

“Isn't your harem getting a little full? Or are you, Cody, and Alejandro a formalized ménage a trois?” Brad liked to talk about other people's sex lives. I indulged him.

“Actually, they both want me, and it really is hard to blame them,” I told him. He rolled his eyes. “So I spend the nights with Cody and the days with Alejandro. I'm kind of tired.”

“And you think you can fit Tiffany in too?”

“Only one way to find out,” I joked.

Stef came strolling in with a single sheet of paper in his hand. He had a new color laser printer that he was enamored with: he liked to print stuff. “While you two have been gossiping and worrying about your libidos, the Russian economy has come crashing down.” So dramatic, so typical of Stef.

Brad took the paper. “They defaulted on their loans and effectively devalued the ruble.”

“Do you have any exposure in Russia?” I asked.

“We have some investments in oil and some other natural resources,” Brad said from memory. “Those should be OK, at least in the long run.”

“Unless there's another revolution,” Stef said. “But if there is, we will deal with it in turn. Meanwhile we will maintain our focus on domestic opportunities. What is on deck for today?”

“A domestic focus: That Laramie project is front and center,” Brad said. They were working on acquiring a large tract of land, along with mineral rights, near Laramie, Wyoming. “The numbers all check out, everything makes sense, but I think we should check it out before sinking that kind of money into one piece of land.” It would end up in the tens of millions if the deal went down.

“That is a wise precaution. When do you want to fly up there?” Stef asked.

“Before winter,” Brad joked. “As soon as you can.”

“Let's leave tomorrow morning. That way Matt can sate his carnal desires tonight and he will be less responsive to our advances,” Stef said.

“Me?” I asked.

“Do you not want to go?” Stef asked, playing with me.

“Hell yeah I want to go,” I said. “But I could never be so sexually exhausted that I could resist you guys.”

“It seems I will have to have enough willpower for all of us,” Brad said, giving Stef a patronizing look.

“You have grown so old at such a young age,” Stef quipped. “I am going to go meet some friends for lunch. You two can occupy yourselves today.”

“Surfs up,” Brad said. “See ya round skater boy.”

“You wait till winter when I can still skate and you can only look at the cold water,” I said.

“That's what wetsuits are for. I'll see you later,” Brad said.

“You should both be back here by 5:00pm,” Stef said. “The President is addressing the nation.”

“About this Russian thing?” I asked.

“No, about Monica Lewinsky sucking his dick,” Brad said. “We must look like idiots to the rest of the world, obsessing over who puts her mouth on the President's dick.” I thought the same thing, so I just nodded. Then I climbed the stairs and headed to Alejandro's room.

Our relationship was weird in a good way. He really didn't seem to want to sleep with Cody, and Cody didn't really want to sleep with him. I think Cody got his feelings hurt during our threesome when Alejandro wanted me to fuck him instead, and Alejandro never got over Cody's earlier rejection. The whole thing had had an ironic effect on both of them. Cody had grown more bitchy and demanding, while Alejandro had gotten more cheerful and easygoing. It was like they were alter-egos, and it was impossible for both of them to be happy at the same time.

I walked into Alejandro's room and found him much as I had the first time I'd come in here. He was really a nice guy, with some sterling qualities that he kept hidden. He's the kind of guy who would do anything for a friend. I put on a condom and lubed myself up, pushing into him while he slept.

“Mmmmm,” he said and looked back at me, smiling. After that threesome, this boy had discovered his inner bottom. I slowly fucked him awake, then picked up my pace and fucked us both to an orgasm. “You are such an amazing lover,” he said.

I felt myself blushing. “Thanks. I have a good partner.”

“Oh, I am your partner?” he asked. Then he laughed at my expression. I'd allowed myself to look surprised, freaked out.

“You are a hot, sexy man. You make me so fucking horny I can't keep my hands off of you,” I said, going for the sultry mode.

“Good. Don't.” I laughed. “So what are you doing? What about your meeting?”

“We got a day off,” I said. “I'm going to Wyoming with Stef and Brad tomorrow. I'm taking JJ skating.” I looked at my watch. “Shit, I have to get ready!” I dragged him out of bed with me.

“What are you doing? I have nowhere to go!” he objected.

“Shower with me. I want to wash your body.” He followed me dutifully. I thought about the guys I'd found attractive before, hunky, muscular guys. Alejandro was none of those things. Soft and slim. It was awesome. We showered, a cool experience that stoked my libido even though my body hadn't recharged yet. I found an irritated JJ waiting for me.

“We're going to be late,” he said petulantly.

“No we aren't. Just get in the car,” I said.

“Tiffany said you're a good skater for a hockey player,” he said.

“Oh did she now?” I asked. That was too funny, and pretty cool. It was about the nicest thing a figure skater could say about a hockey player. We got to the rink a little early, so I gave JJ an ‘I told you so’ look. He ignored me and charged in. We walked in to find a conflict in progress.

“We booked the ice for practice,” said a kid, probably about 16. There were about 20 players there, waiting to take the ice.

“You're not supposed to be on the ice for another two hours,” said the rink manager.

“So let us go on early,” said one of the others.

“There are other people who are using the ice,” Tiffany said, facing the goon down.

“Figure skaters,” another sneered. Here we go, I thought.

“You've got two sheets of ice,” I said to the manager. “Let these guys go pretend to play hockey on the other one.”

“That rink costs $200 an hour, this one's only $100. Money don't work out,” he said.

“So you're going to let it go idle instead?” I asked, amazed at his stupidity. I had an idea. I turned to the players. “I need to get some practice in. I'll spring for the extra C-note if you guys will let me play with you.”

“You can try,” one of the captains said. “We're a AAA team.”

“Is that what they call fags in California?” I teased. I pulled out a hundred bucks and gave it to the manager and lugged my bag off to the dressing room while Tiffany and JJ hit the regular rink. I walked into the locker room and it was like I had stepped into a time machine and flown back in time about a year or so. All the banter, all the bullshit, a careful veneer laid across a bunch of 16 and 17-year-old guys still figuring things out.

They seemed like idiotic adolescents in the locker room, but then we hit the ice and I found out these guys were good. Really good. “And who the fuck are you?” the coach asked. I laughed inside at that. Coaches had to use the word 'fuck' in every sentence.

“Matt Carrswold,” I said, holding out my hand. “I'm playing at Stanford this fall and I was hoping to get in some practice. These guys said I could play with them if I promised not to hurt them.”

That got a grin. “Alright Carrswold, you're on a line with Baxter and Carter. If you suck, I'm pulling you.” Two hours later I dragged my exhausted ass off the ice, totally stoked at playing some kick-ass hockey. I showered and changed, ignoring the cute guys around me, and headed out to collect JJ. He was waiting for me with Tiffany.

“You waiting for me?” I asked, flirting.

“Yeah. I need to get paid,” she said. I grabbed my wallet and realized that I gave the hundred bucks to pay her to the rink manager. “You give my money away?”

“Very funny,” I said. “You take checks?”

“From most people,” she said. I rolled my eyes and led her out to my GMC and pulled out my checkbook and dashed out a draft for $100. “Shaker Heights? You lost?”

“Very funny. It's good.” Then I got my mojo back. “If not, I'll make it up to you.”

“Just what I need,” she said. “You're pretty good.”

“You watched me play?” I asked, raising my eyebrow. She nodded her head as she walked away.

“You were good,” JJ said. “I don't think I could do that. I'm not big enough.”

“Yeah, but you skate better than most of the guys on that team,” I told him. “You make your body do such beautiful things on the ice.”

“It's fun,” he said cheerfully. “Better than gymnastics, and the people aren't assholes.”

“Is that why you quit gymnastics?” I asked.

“It's not fun if people just make fun of you,” he said.

“Nope, it isn't. They won't make fun of you now though, and if they do, it's only because they're jealous.”

We got home to find everyone in Stef's great room. He had a huge projection television that was built into the wall, and a screen that came down opposite it in front of the windows to the deck and pool, blocking the sunlight so you could watch the projected image during the day. It was the coolest system: there when you wanted to watch something and completely out of sight when you didn't. “You are just in time,” Stef said. I plopped down on the couch next to Robbie and he put his arm around me.

“Thanks for taking JJ skating,” he said.

“No problem. I even got into a pickup game with one of the teams there,” I said.

“Matt kicked ass,” JJ said.

“Look who's talking,” I teased.

“Shhhh,” JP said grumpily. Clinton wasn't even on yet.

“You sure are grumpy JP. You not getting any?” I asked. He gave me a dirty look.

“Stef's not doing his job,” Brad said.

“That is most certainly not true,” Stef said airily.

“Can we watch this without the background noise?” JP asked. The historian in him didn’t want to miss any of the live action in this farce. President Clinton came on and started talking. About how he'd testified before the Independent Counsel and Grand Jury. About how his private life was being scrutinized like no other American's. And about how he had a wrong and inappropriate physical relationship with Monica Lewinsky. And that, while his statements in January were technically true, from a legal point of view, he hadn't volunteered information. I just watched him, so smooth, trying to lay this out so we wouldn't hate him. Then it was over.

“Well that was interesting,” Cody said. “Nothing like a blow job to get a married man in trouble.”

“That looked painful,” Stef said.

“I suspect the real pain was when he told Hillary,” Robbie said. I nodded. That must have been a ball-buster.

“They'll impeach him now,” JP said.

“For a blow job?” I asked. “Are you serious?”

“No, for lying under oath,” JP said.

“Any of those guys would have done the same thing,” I said. What guy wouldn't try to lie his way out of it?

“The Republicans hate Clinton,” JP said. “Logic is irrelevant. What they may or may not do is irrelevant. They've got a smoking gun with a few bullets left, and they're going to use them.” We stared at him, knowing he was right but thinking that the whole thing was an enormous waste of time and money.

“We must talk about our travel plans,” Stef said, changing the subject. “Do you have a passport?” It took me a second to figure out that he was asking me.

“Of course,” I said, almost offended. I'd been all over the place with my parents. What, did he think I was Brian?

“Good. We are taking Alejandro back to school next week,” he said. “I'm sure he'd like it if you went along.” I looked over at Cody who pretended that didn't bother him.

“Where is he going to school?” I asked.

“Barcelona,” Stef said.

“That's in Spain!” I exclaimed.

“Unless it has moved,” he observed with a smile. I was surprised. I figured that since Alejandro was Mexican, he'd go to school there, or here in the US. I never expected him to go to Europe.

“That's fine, but I need to be at Stanford by Labor Day, September 7,” I said.

“The quarter doesn't start until the 21st, which means that freshmen move-in and orientation isn't until the 14th,” JP said.

“I know, but the hockey team has some optional practices the week before. In hockey, 'optional' means 'required'” I joked.

Copyright © 2011 Mark Arbour; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

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It is so funny to look back and see when people meet up with each other for the first time and how they act with each other. It is amazing how just a few things changing can make all the difference in the world.

 

I do find it interesting that in his head, Matt keeps comparing himself to Brian. Is it just about their connection to Cody or is it something else???

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On 9/13/2013 at 3:37 PM, centexhairysub said:

It is so funny to look back and see when people meet up with each other for the first time and how they act with each other. It is amazing how just a few things changing can make all the difference in the world.

 

I do find it interesting that in his head, Matt keeps comparing himself to Brian. Is it just about their connection to Cody or is it something else???

I agree with David. Rereading these chapters and knowing the future is both sad (loss of Robbie) and interesting (seeing the relationships and bond between these people grow). I think as these chapters pass the reader can see the true nature of Brian and Matt. Matt is basically a good person finding his way in this new life in CA. Brian, however, seems to become more and more evil as the story unfolds. 

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More people need to go back, reread these stories and then make comments to make up for the comments that were on the forum on the old site. 

It is fun seeing characters "for the first time" like Tiffany, Cam, soon Wade, etc. I'd forgotten how they got into the story in some cases.

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JJ being so happy about finding something to be good at that his brothers can't touch was sweet. And Tiffany! Always saw her as Kristen Bell. 

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