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    Topher Lydon
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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. 

Carter's Fortress - 14. Chapter 14

Marc was driving, Will sitting in the passenger seat trying to figure out the battered map. One foot was braced on the dashboard as he lounged in the seat, occasionally reaching out to wipe the fog from the window to get his bearings. Typically they had lost sight of Lisa's minivan and Brody had taken off like a bat out of hell almost as soon as they had turned onto the highway.

Will shrugged, glancing over at Marc who kept both hands firmly on the wheel and darted glances up at the mirrors. He was a new driver and timid, but the only way he would get comfortable with driving was to get more practice, and Will adjusted his glasses as he returned to staring at the map.

The heat was cranked in the jeep, and the windshield wipers were going, flicking away the rain that was streaking the glass. Will settled back into the bucket seat just enjoying the warmth, Marc's cologne tickling his nose as he glanced over at the young man beside him.

"'Sup?" Marc asked, sniffing as he brushed the bottom of his nose with his knuckles, an oddly masculine gesture that always reminded Will of a homeboy.

"Nothing," Will replied as he smiled to himself and returned his attention back to the map.

"I'm not stopping," Marc said firmly, "no matter how much you flirt."

"I'm not flirting," Will said, examining the map again and checking a road sign.

"Sure," Marc said, giving him a suggestive sidelong glance.

Will shook his head, "You realize if we show up late everyone's going to know..."

Marc grinned, "You're navigating, I could just blame it on your British sense of direction."

Will looked at his boyfriend, "Excuse me? Last I checked we English were excellent navigators."

"Ok, Magellan," Marc said with a grin, "where are we?"

Will held up the map. "Somewhere on here," he said, holding up a map of the entire province.

"Yeah, that's a big help," Marc shot back as he squinted out of the front window at the rain-soaked road and the pair of taillights far off in the distance. "For all I know we could have passed it."

"Alright, I'll call," Will said fishing out the cell phone that Alicia had insisted he bring with him. True, it had rung twice already that trip, usually with inane questions, but he was glad at that moment he had it with him.

He dialed Brody and was rewarded with a single ring and a pick up. Brody's "Hey," was heard over the roar of an engine; some people weren't opposed to speeding along back highways in rural Ontario.

"Hey, old man," Will said, unfolding the map again. "Just wanted to check we're on the right track--we just passed an exit for..." Will glanced at the sign, "Antrim..."

"Stay on the Trans-Canada," Brody said. "You can't miss the exit."

"You'd be surprised," Will murmured. "See you in a few."

Almost as soon as Will closed the phone it was ringing again and he opened it. "Yes?" he asked.

"Hey, boss," Alicia's cheerful tones greeted him. "We finally got the Exhibition report from Public Works; I just thought you should know."

"Great," Will said. "A month late and no doubt totally inaccurate. I'll read it when I get back, just leave it on my desk...and Alicia..."

"Yeah, boss?" She asked.

"Go home." Will smiled as he closed the phone and tossed it on the dash, "I swear that girl works too hard."

"She's not the only one." Marc said accelerating the Jeep around a station wagon. He shot Will a grin, "You actually going to relax this week, or do I have to share you with work?"

Will shrugged, "Nature of the job, though I promise I won't let work interfere too much with spending time with you."

"Me?" Marc grinned. "I intend to get very drunk in front of the fireplace and pretend its not the middle of winter."

"It's not, though," Will observed.

Marc just ginned, "Not yet."

* * *

The cabin was not what Will had been expecting. Upon reflection he had been expecting a rustic log cabin with a dusting of snow on the roof and a stone chimney, he wasn't expecting a modern looking ski lodge. It was constructed of logs, with tall glass windows that offered a view over a swiftly flowing river.

Will stood in the circular lounge looking at the central fire place and the high arched ceiling extending far above him. It was tastefully furnished and must have cost a fortune to rent. Will glanced suspiciously at Brody, wondering again how it was Brody was able to afford such extravagances.

"Nice." Marc whistled as he set a cooler down beside the fridge in the spacious kitchen and began to unload supplies into it, beer first as always.

Will walked to the large picture windows and stared down at the water. From inside the cabin it looked like they were actually over the river, and he stared out at the cold night settling in, the rain splashing down on the rolling water and the barren trees swaying in the wind.

Peaceful, he thought.

That illusion lasted less than a minute as the Sternostis banged into the cabin, little Aiden tearing about squealing and making as much noise as he could. Jeff, it appeared, had thought giving the kid candy was a good way to keep him quiet. Typical mistake.

Will turned from the window and looked down at the rug rat: there was little to the kid, big blue eyes and lots of curls... and a set of lungs that rivaled Pavarotti's. It was going to be a long week, Will could already tell that.

"Best keep a leash on him," Brody said, coming in from the car carrying a couple of bags that looked suspiciously like gun cases, "Not a good idea to have him running loose this time of the year."

"I know," Lisa said tugging out a miniature set of clothes done in hunter orange; the cap she tucked onto Aiden's head as she carried him up the log stairs to the bedroom.

"Speaking of rug rats," Will said looking about him, "where's short stuff?"

"Peter's unloading the car," Brody said going back out for a second load. "You gonna give us a hand or are you just gonna stand there and supervise?"

Will shrugged and sauntered out of the lodge to give them a hand. He stopped cold as an all too familiar black car rolled to a stop. The distinctive Mustang with all the connotations that went along with it, and Will flipped back the tails of his tweed jacket as he leaned against the wall of the cabin, hands in his pockets.

His mood brightened when Jared stepped out of the passenger seat; an old friend and a welcome sight to Will as he realized how much he had missed Jared's company since moving back to Ottawa.

"Yo!" Jared greeted Will with a wave as he resettled his Maple Leaf's hat further back on his head. Jared was still very much the same as he always was, dependable and a firm friend. Will remembered his high school days tucked away in biology class, the pair of them trying to work out what on earth osmosis was.

Andrew finally got out of his car a moment of two later. Still dressed stylishly, he looked set for a week in Aspen and not for hunting in back woods Ontario. He was becoming every inch the city lawyer, but no matter what the training, there was something about Andrew that would forever be a country boy. The way he didn't seem to care that he was walking through mud, or the way he appraised the surroundings at a glance. Andrew just seemed comfortable.

Will glanced at Brody, a questioning look to see if he was the one responsible for Andrew's invite. Brody flashed him a short nod as he gathered the last bag from his car and walked it back to the house. "Wouldn't be much of a reunion if we forgot someone," he said in a low tone as he went past.

Will rubbed his chin and shrugged as he went to give Marc a hand over at the Jeep. He couldn't argue with that logic.

"What's with you and that Andrew guy?" Marc asked, surprising Will as he accepted a suitcase.

Will struggled for an answer, realizing, as usual, he had underestimated Marc's observational skills. He decided the truth was probably the easiest, "That's The Andrew."

"Figured," Marc said looking over to the smartly dressed lawyer, his brow furrowing as he glanced down at his own simple clothes. He looked up again at Will, who had missed the exchange as he tried to reach for a bag deeper in the Jeep. "Just, seems he makes you uncomfortable."

Will sighed as he sat down on the rear fender of the Jeep and looked up at Marc, "There's a lot of history there, first love and all... My friends thought for the longest time that we were meant to be."

Marc set his bags down and fished out a cigarette, lighting it from his zippo, "What happened?" His eyes were heavy, and Will could pick up on his distress.

"I had my career and he had his school," Will replied standing up and reaching out to brush a strand of hair from Marc's face. "He was everything I wanted and I thought I'd never fall in love again." He touched a finger under Marc's chin, lifting his face so that he could see Marc's eyes, "Then I met you and that changed."

Marc got his usual cocky grin on his face as he smiled at Will, "Why?"

"I don't know," Will admitted truthfully. "You bring so much energy into my life, I love the way you take a stuffy stuck up man like me and shake things up..."

Marc grinned as he puffed on his cigarette, blowing out a smoke ring. "I know, I'm just too cool..." he said in a sarcastically amused tone. On impulse he reached down and flipped up the collar of Will's jacket, stepping back to admire his handiwork and nodded in satisfaction, "Much better."

Will shook his head, "You just like me looking disheveled."

"You always look disheveled," Lisa commented, coming out to bring her bags in and catching the tail end of the conversation. "Sweater vests went out years ago, dear..."

Will rolled his eyes. "Look, I like the way I dress, thank you very much," he said half-heartedly.

"I'm on a mission," Marc confessed to Lisa. "I want to get him in jeans and a tee-shirt, just once..."

"I've seen it," Andrew commented, walking over, backpack slung over a shoulder. "He used to dress really cool in high school, this sort of James Dean-meets-the-nineties look. But then his Uncle Arthur used to drag him shopping and choose outfits."

"Glad I can still amuse people with that," Will said shaking his head as he stood up and gathered up his bags. "I'll be inside if anyone needs to rib me further."

* * *

Marc finished his cigarette, flicking the butt away into the river as he looked back at the Mustang. That was Andrew, the Andrew.

Gay or straight, there was always one guy that was a threat. That one that got away who would sooner or later resurface and turn the whole world upside down. And Marc wondered if he was jealous?

Andrew seemed to be everything he was not: stylish, confident, successful. He was everything Will deserved in his life, and yet he wasn't with Andrew. He had chosen Marc instead.

He stood there in the cold night, staring at that menacing black car trying to figure out his life, feeling inadequate again. He remembered his last relationship with his ex-girlfriend, all the pretending and wishing he was in love with her... that had all been blown away after meeting Will.

The love he didn't believe he'd ever feel was suddenly offered to him, and it was reciprocated. And as terrifying as that fact still was, Marc was afraid he was going to lose it. Will deserved so much better than him...

"He doesn't love me," Andrew said from the doorway to the cabin looking across at Marc standing there in the cold. "At least not like he used to."

"What?" Marc asked, turning to the stranger who seemed remarkably aware of what he was thinking.

"I'm guessing that's what you're thinking," Andrew said, walking down the steps and over to his car, sitting down on the hood, hands stuffed into the pockets of his ski jacket.

"What do you want?" Marc asked, sounding defensive; he didn't like people he didn't know making assumptions about him.

Andrew stared at him, a pair of intelligent blue eyes reading him as they gave him the once over, "You've been out here awhile, and since I know what's going through my mind I can guess what you're thinking."

Marc bristled, who did this guy think he was? Just waltzing back into their lives and interfering. "You don't know me," he said firmly.

"I know him," Andrew said, nodding towards the window where Will could be seen talking on the phone unaware of the two men outside discussing him. "I know how he touches people..." He glanced over at Marc, "I just wanted to reassure you I'm not here to take him from you."

"Then why are you here?" Marc fired back, realizing he was angry, angry with this guy's arrogance... angry at how he was so damn right.

"I don't know," Andrew replied standing up again. "Maybe I just miss the way my life was simpler back when we were all in school together. Or maybe I just miss Will." He looked at Marc, "He's in love with you, though..."

"And you're still in love with him," Marc said softly.

"Yes." The word hung in the cold November air between them, drawing a battle line between the two men.

Copyright © 2011 Christopher Patrick Lydon; 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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